TWO-HOUR ;
> THE TRANSITION TO GUIDED DEMOCRACY:
INDONESIAN POLITICS, 1957-1959
DANIEL S. LEV c P
MONOGRAPH SERIES
MODERN INDONESIA PROJECT
Southeast Asia Program
Department of Asian Studies
Cornell University
Ithaca, New York
Price - $3.50
SEAP Publications

Do not remove from room 213
640 Stewart AvenueTHE TRANSITION TO GUIDED DEMOCRACY:
INDONESIAN POLITICS/ 1957-1959
DANIEL S. LEV
Assistant Professor of Political Science,
University of California, Berkeley.
MONOGRAPH SERIES
Modern Indonesia Project
Southeast Asia Program
Department of Asian Studies
Cornell University
Ithaca, New York
1966(c) 1966 by Cornell Modern Indonesia ProjectPREFACE
Periods of major political transition are generally so
complex as to present the political analyst with one of his
most difficult challenges. Indonesia between 1957 and 1959 was
no exception. During these years a previously wide diffusion
of political power was superseded by its increasing concentra-
tion in three major bases? President Soekarno, the Army and
the Communist Party. This was also a period of crisis in the
relationships of Djakarta and Java with the other major islands
of the archipelago; and it was marked by ideological ferment
and change/ largely dominated by the views of President Soekarno
It was during these years that Guided Democracy was given its
initial shape# with the stage being set for a power struggle
which was to become increasingly intense. So dramatic were the
political experiences of this period and so deeply etched in
the minds of many Indonesians that their effect is still
strongly felt and can be expected to influence the character
of Indonesia*s political development for many years to come.
Dr. Daniel S. Lev is particularly well qualified to
examine the course of Indonesian political developments between
1957 and 1959. Arriving in Indonesia towards the end of this
period# he remained there for three years engaged in an inten-
sive study of its political life. His monograph constitutes
by far the most searching analysis yet to appear of this criti-
cally important period. As well as providing a guide to these
earlier formative years in the nation's political development#
it will# I am sure# long remain relevant for all those seriously
interested in understanding contemporary Indonesian political
life.
Ithaca# New York
August 10# 1966
George McT. Kahin
Director
iiiTABLE OF CONTENTS
Page
INTRODUCTION ........................ ................ 1
Chapter
I.	THE END OF PARTY GOVERNMENT AND THE COURSE
OF THE REGIONAL CRISIS........................ 11
The Fall of the Second Ali Cabinet and
the Formation of the Kabinet Karya ......	12
The National Council ............................. 23
The PRRI Rebellion................................ 28
II.	GUIDED DEMOCRACY: SOEKARNO AND THE ARMY.......... 44
Soekarno and Guided Democracy .................... 46
The Army and Martial Law ..................... 59
III.	INTER-PARTY CONFLICT - 1957	.................... 75
The PKI and the United Front ..........	75
The Regional Elections? PKI Displacement
of the PNI....................................   84
Regional PNI vs. PKI and the Posture of
the National PNI............................... 105
Regional PNI-Masjumi-NU Cooperation ............. 112
The Failure of National PNI-Masjumi-NU
Cooperation.................................... 116
The Constituent Assembly......................... 123
IV.	THE REBELLION AND THE POLITICAL	SYSTEM.............. 133
The Parties After the Rebellion .............. 134
The Cabinet Reshuffle of June.................... 146
The PNI and the Re-emergence of Partindo ....	160
Postponement of the Elections.................... 164
V.	THE DRIVE TO GUIDED DEMOCRACY (I)................... 173
Djuanda.......................................... 176
The Army Initiative.............................. 182
The National Council and Guided
Democracy:	First	Phase ........................ 201
The National Council:	Second Phase . ............ 220
vPage
Chapter
VI. THE DRIVE TO GUIDED DEMOCRACY (II)................. 235
The Open Talks and the Decision to
Return to 1945 ............................... 235
The Constituent Assembly Debate and
the Decree of July 5th........................ 257
The New Government and the Developing System . .	278
APPENDIX:	THE CONSTITUTION OF 1945	................... 290
viFOREWORD
The paper offered here is limited in scope. It deals
narrowly with political developments during the years 1957
through mid-1959, the period that led up to the repromulgation
of the 1945 Constitution. The study ends there not because the
constitution was of major importance but only because it offered
a convenient place to mark the end of the transition to Guided
Democracy. Politically more significant events on which to end
the study might have been the suspension of Parliament in March
1960/ the conference of martial law administrators in September
1960/ the convening of the Provisional People's Consultative
Assembly in 1961, or even the start of a more forceful and deter-
mined West Irian policy in late 1961.
The study is also limited by its concern primarily with
upper level politics in Djakarta, a fascinating and turbulent
political system unto itself yet by no means fully representa-
tive of all of social and political Indonesia. Finally, for
reasons of time, it has not been possible to add the new material
which has recently become available on the events which I discuss
Nevertheless, this paper is humbly offered in the hope of adding
some new material and perspectives on post-revolutionary politics
in Indonesia. In time it will be revised as part of a broader
study of the years 1957-1961.
In my acknowledgments, I will not try to name the many
Indonesians who helped me in this research; but I am primarily
indebted to them.
I want especially to thank George McT. Kahin for his
guidance and friendship, and for his education of me. I owe
him too much ever to be able to repay it.
Among those who read and criticized this paper, always
too politely, and helped me in other ways with it, I am grateful
to Ben Anderson, Fred Bunnell, John Echols, Herbert Feith,
Claire Holt, John Legge, James Mackie, Gerald Maryanov, Ruth
McVey, and Audrey Richey. I want also to express my deep grati-
tude for years of knowing and being influenced by John R. W.
Smail, to whom I apologize for the way this paper is written,
I want to thank Susan Finch for her major contribution of editing
the manuscript. Finally, for innumerable kinds of critical help
and encouragement, I am grateful to Arlene Lev.
Berkeley, California
July, 1965
Daniel S. Lev
vii1
INTRODUCTION
The political history of Indonesia since the transfer of
sovereignty from the Dutch on December 27, 1949, can be divided
nicely into two periods. The first, from 1950 to 1957, has been
admirably discussed by Herbert Feith in The Decline of Constitu-
tional Democracy in Indonesia.It was largely dominated, under
the imperfectly operating parliamentary constitution of 1950, by
the political parties which had existed before the war and been
revived during the revolution or shortly afterwards. The main
political event of that period was the inconclusive elections of
1955 for Parliament and the Constituent Assembly; from then
onwards the parliamentary system came under increasing attack
by extra-parliamentary forces. In the second period, defined
for the sake of convenience as beginning in February 1957 with
President Soekarno's Konsepsi (and as yet unended), the extra-
parliamentary forces came into power. This period has been
characterized by the decline of the parties and parliamentary
institutions, the rise of the army, the growing power of the
Communist Party, and the apparently dominant influence of Presi-
dent Soekarno. In contrast to the parliamentary democracy of the
earlier period, the political system of the second period has
been called by President Soekarno Guided Democracy.
There are certain obvious distinctions between the two
periods. In the first, politics were freer and more open, there
was a strong and active press, and political conflict had a
recognized though inadequate institutional place. Guided Demo-
cracy, on the other hand, is explicitly authoritarian; political
suppression has accelerated since 1957, with the government
attempting to maintain a tight rein on an increasing number of
activities. The divisive ideological conflict of the first
period gave way in the second, on the surface, to more defined
and exclusive ideological goals determined by Soekarno.
The development of Guided Democracy after 1957, however,
was neither radical nor revolutionary. There was no rush of
new people with essentially new ideas. A few new leaders entered
the stage, mainly from the army, and a few left, mainly from
the Islamic party Masjumi. There were major shifts of power and
influence, consequent upon the resolution of important political
issues, and these shifts gradually changed the style of national
politics. But by and large the topmost leadership of the early
1960's is the same as it was in the early 1950's, only older.
To a limited extent, the period of Guided Democracy can be seen
as an extension of the period of parliamentary democracy, in
that the dominant elite simply gave up trying to maintain itself
Ithaca, N. Y. s
Cornell University Press, 1962.2
according to one set of rules and turned to another set that
seemed to offer better protection. Thus if the leadership
appears to be the same, the political institutions of the second
period have become very different from those of the first.
Many of the institutions adopted in 1950 were unimagi-
native copies of those existing in Western Europe. They repre-
sented the power of Europe and a prestigeful European intellec-
tual tradition. Increasingly that tradition came under attack
after the revolution. It was never accepted unequivocably by
more than a handful of highly educated men, and it was quickly
undermined by the search for Indonesia's own traditions and by
the fundamental struggle for political power. In the course of
the development of Guided Democracy after 1957, the institutions
of the earlier period were smashed and replaced by either imper-
manent new ones or variations of older ones. One of the few
national structures of importance to remain intact through this
second period was the pamong pradja, the centrally directed
regional administration. The pamong pradja did not originate
in the parliamentary system at all, but had been developed by
the Dutch from its roots in the pre-Dutch kingdoms of Java. In-
deed, the pamong pradja had been threatened with extinction
during the parliamentary period. Similarly, the 1945 Constitu-
tion, to which the advocates of Guided Democracy turned in 1959,
was more a copy of Netherlands-Indies than of European institu-
tions. The bodies created after the repromulgation of this
constitution stemmed from the authoritarian traditions of ancient
Java, the colony, and, too, the Japanese occupation.
Those traditions knew little of institutionalized polit-
ical control. Throughout Indonesia, traditional political con-
cepts had assumed, if often without fulfillment, the moral
responsibility of an ascriptive elite for the well-being of a
popular clientele equipped with no regular means of enforcing
that responsibility.2 The matter of enforcement was usually
left to supernatural intervention, however conceived. When the
Provisional People's Consultative Assembly, one of the bodies
provided for by the 1945 Constitution, was finally appointed in
1960, President Soekarno declared that he was responsible only
to the Assembly, which formally gave him a full mandate, and to
God. Under both the parliamentary system and Guided Democracy
Indonesia continued to be ruled by a largely ascriptive elite—
though this elite has been increasingly challenged by a more
socially mobile youth, by the principle of merit, and by popular
power. The difference in the second period has been that what-
ever institutional controls had earlier existed began to dis-
integrate. The moral responsibility of the elite, in both
periods, rapidly deteriorated in the Hobbesian struggle for
power, position, wealth, and prestige of post-revolutionary
Indonesia.
2
See Soemarsaid Moertono,
Java" (unpublished manuscript).
"State and Statecraft in Old3
Guided Democracy developed in the wake of several
serious and interrelated conflicts which began to come to a
head in 1956. These conflicts are basic to the post-revolu-
tionary history of the country, but most of them are pre-revo-
lutionary in origin and have been part of nearly all of Indo-
nesian history. The great issues that concerned Indonesia
after 1950 derived partly from the fact that the state, as
presently constituted territorially, was the result of long
years of Dutch domination over most of the islands. Once Indo-
nesia became independent, the social and political issues which
had been suppressed during the colonial period naturally re-
emerged. There were also new issues which appeared with the
rise of relatively new social groups during the Japanese occu-
pation and the revolution.
Three or four basic conflicts stand out. One, which
culminated in open rebellion in 1958, was that between Java
and the outer islands. The issues involved in this conflict
cannot be described simply. The opposing economic interests
of the over-populated importing areas of Java and the under-
populated exporting areas of the outer islands—particularly
the oil, copra, rubber, and tin producing islands of Sumatra,
Sulawesi, and, though much less significant, Kalimantan—was
not nearly as important a factor as it was made out to be before
the rebellion began. Nor was Communism, whose major stronghold
was in East and Central Java; this issue was given exaggerated
significance partly by American interest in the regional con-
flict. Rather, the Java-outer islands problem comprised a
complicated combination of social and cultural, as well as
political and economic, hostilities. These hostilities might
be summed up as a test of Java's real and inevitable domination
of the archipelago. Javanese dominance rested on superior
numbers—the ethnic Javanese of East and Central Java constitute
about 45% of the total population—a more elaborate culture,
and the disunity of the other Indonesian ethnic groups. The
Javanese elite saw in independence an opportunity, as it were,
to fulfill the ambitions and promises of Javanese civilization
in the new national state, while the smaller and more particu-
laristic societies of the rest of Indonesia recoiled before
the vision of their eventual subordination or assimilation in
a Javanese-dominated nation.3
The process of assimilation—to use the term loosely—
had already begun, a fact which may have lent more bitterness
to the conflict. Except for the Sundanese of West Java,
3
For a provocative comment on the Javanese view of the
independent state, see Clifford Geertz's study of a Javanese
village in G. William Skinner, ed., Local, Ethnic and National
Loyalties in Village Indonesia (New Haven: Yale University
Southeast Asia Studies Program, Cultural Reports Series, 1959).4
numbering seventeen million and enjoying many historical memo-
ries of their own, most of the outer island groups were not
only small in numbers and mutually hostile but also culturally
less self-assured than the Javanese. Their relationships with
Java were and are ambivalent; the Javanese are seen as effete
and elusive, but also as halus (refined and cultured) and as
politically clever—a people to be disdained but also to be
emulated. For their part, the Javanese never doubted their
cultural superiority over other groups; nor did they doubt their
right to the principal voice in independent Indonesia.
The possibility of open conflict between the daerah
(regions) and the pusat (center, usually Djakarta but sometimes
all of Java) was increased by the existence of a territorially
organized army and a party system that divided to an extent
along ethnic and religious lines. But it is important to empha-
size that when the clash came neither side denied nationalist
ideals. The battle took place in terms that recognized the
continuing existence of a whole Indonesian state.
A second major conflict that helped to pave the way to
Guided Democracy—that between the leaders of the army and the
civilian governing elite—had its roots more strictly in the
revolution. Basic to this conflict were the efforts of a large
part of the officer corps to gain entrance to the political,
social, and economic world controlled since the revolution by
civilian politicians who allowed the army no extra-military
role. More than any other immediate factor, it was the army
which brought down parliamentary government—a system in which
it had no stake and to which it had no commitment.
There is no easy way to describe the army as a political
force. Indeed, to refer to "the army" is merely a convenience,
for it has no common and compelling military or political tra-
dition. The officer corps was and is divided, the origins of
its members varied. A handful had pre-war Dutch military
training. Many more started out in para-military organizations
created by the Japanese. Still others began as members of the
revolutionary armed student corps or of one or other of the
politically aligned guerilla groups.4 Consequently, some offi-
cers took as their military models the highly nationalistic
and martial types who staffed the Japanese occupation force.
Others shunned this in favor of a view that emphasized techni-
cal competence. Yet others leaned towards the notion of a
people's army exercising an important measure of political
leadership, as had been the case to some extent during the
4
George McT. Kahin, Nationalism and Revolution in Indo-
nesia (Ithaca, N. Y.: Cornell University Press, 1952), passim.5
revolution. The development of the army during the revolu-
tion differed from island to island· and the territorial or-
ganization maintained after 1950—with each military district
(at first roughly co-terminous with the provinces) having a
division or smaller unit made up largely of native sons—mili-
tated against rapid and thorough unification. At first, top
level staff and command training made little difference in the
situation, and a national military academy was not founded
until 1957.
During the early years of independence, the army was
poorly organized, poorly disciplined, and poorly equipped.
Yet there was no question of its isolating itself from national
affairs and developing itself as a purely military organization
once revolutionary hostilities had ceased. The revolution was
too fresh in the minds of most officers; they saw themselves
as having played too crucial a role in it to retire into the
background immediately. Moreover, units of the army were con-
stantly deployed after 1950 against various groups involved in
violent internal disturbances: the fanatic Darul Islam in
West and Central Java, Atjeh, and South Sulawesi; the Republic
of the South Moluccas; the supposedly Communist-inspired rebels
in the north-central hill areas of Central Java—the so-called
Merapi-Merbabu Complex; and other groups creating disorders
and minor rebellions. As a result, army officers remained im-
pressed with their responsibility for saving the state, whose
creation, some believed, was mainly the army's doing. More-
over, the ideological character of these rebellions kept them
politically conscious. And, the officer corps not being a
class apart, their political awareness was strengthened by
their constant contact with civilian groups in the highly
politicized atmosphere of post-revolutionary Indonesia.θ Many
officers maintained or developed connections with political
parties, either on their own or through family and social con-
nections. At the same time, some officers, from the vantage
point of their novel military experience, felt justified in
5
For a comment on these divergent views current within
the officer corps, see Major Sajidiman, "Pertumbuhan Kepemim-
pinan Militer di Indonesia" (The Development of Military
Leadership in Indonesia), in Pengantar Sedjarah Militer (Intro-
duction to Military History; Bandung: Military History Center,
1959), pp. 237-245.
β
Gen. Nasution said in 1954 that, "it is often the case
that a government which consists of various political parties
emphasizes the desires of those parties. And in a state which
is not yet well run, ambitious military men not infrequently
use party channels to get the best chances. The Indonesian
army has also given such bad examples" (Tjatatan2 sekitar
Politik Militer Indonesia [Notes on Indonesian Military Policy;
Djakarta: Pembimbing, 1955], p. 112).6
condemning the ineffectiveness of the civilian government, con-
trasting this with the accomplishments of the army, whose pro-
gress was impeded by few existing social-military traditions.
Often simplistically and self-righteously, they deprecated the
national disunity, ideological confusion, political bickering,
inefficiency, bureaucratism, corruption, and lack of consensus
so evident after the transfer of sovereignty; and they blamed
the army's own deficiencies on the influence of the civilian
order. These protests against civilian inadequacy also repre-
sented an incipient demand for recognition of the social and
political aspirations of the officers themselves.
The challenge of the army to civilian government became
clear during the early 1950's in a series of eruptions of mili-
tary indiscipline. The first and most important of these
"affairs," as they were called, occurred on October 17, 1952,
when a group of officers led by Army Chief-of-Staff A. H.
Nasution gambled for army control of the government by trying
to force President Soekarno to assume a strong executive posi-
tion to the detriment of Parliament. Constitutionally Soekarno
was weak, but politically he was a major and growing power.
He rejected the demands of the October 17 officers, however,
asserting that he would not become a dictator.? This was the
first of several occasions on which the President avoided
making himself politically dependent on the army. The October
17th Affair indicated how badly the officer corps was divided,
both on principle and on personal interest, and the division
remained apparent for years afterwards. Nasution was relieved
of his position soon after the incident, but he regained it in
1955 following another affair in which the officer corps, then
led by Col. Zulkifli Lubis, embarrassed the Cabinet by reject-
ing its initial Chief-of-Staff appointee. By this time Nasu-
tion had reassessed the situation and decided to work with
rather than against Soekarno. Indeed, he was too weak politi-
cally to do otherwise. Following his reappointment as Chief-
of-Staff, Nasution set about unifying the top level of the
officer corps under his own direction, aiming to accomplish
this primarily through selection of the panglimas, the regional
commanders of the several military districts. Before he could
make any headway, however, the regional problem and the army
problem came together in a new series of affairs in the second
half of 1956. Encouraged and followed by regional civilian
politicians, several outer island panglimas openly defied the
authority of the central government, undertook their own
7
On the complicated October 17th Affair, see Herbert
Feith, The Wilopo Cabinet, 1952-1953? A Turning Point in Post-
Revolutionary Indonesia (Ithaca, N. ¥.t Cornell Modern Indo-
nesia Project, Monograph Series, 1958), pp. 103 ff. For a
general comment on the military "affairs," see Maj. Gen. T. B.
Simatupang, Pemerintah, Masjarakat, Ankatan Perang (Government,
Society, Armed Forces? Djakarta! Indira, 196l), pp. 90-94.7
external trade, and in some provinces of Sumatra and Sulawesi
took over the regional governments by illegal proclamations of
martial law.
Of the major skeletal structures of the state—the
army, the political party system, and the bureaucracy (mainly
the pamong pradja)—the army was the most important. The
party system was itself divisive. Three of the four largest
parties were based mainly in East and Central Java; only the
Islamic party Masjumi, though predominantly an outer-island
party, enjoyed an electoral distribution that divided about
evenly between Java and the other major islands.® The pamong
pradja was an enormously important instrument of central govern-
ment control in Java, but elsewhere it was new and without
traditional influence to lend it strength. Although national
unity was buttressed by other non-institutional factors, in-
stitutionally it was primarily the army which held the state
together; and if the army began to divide, the state threatened
to divide with it. Consequently, when national seams appeared
to be ripping apart in 1956 and 1957, the officer corps insisted
that it must act to repair both the army and the state. In
doing so, under martial law, army leaders stepped directly into
the political affairs of the nation and became prime contenders
for political authority.
The main opponents of the army were the political
parties, whose survival was threatened by any serious challenge
to parliamentary government. But the party system, represent-
ing another major source of post-revolutionary conflict, was
paralyzed by internecine struggle. This, however, was a
struggle of a different order from those previously mentioned,
for in a sense inter-party hostility summed up much of the
history of social, political, and economic conflict in Indone-
sia. The parties articulated long existing historical antago-
nisms; and even when the party system was decisively weakened
after 1957, those antagonisms continued.
Inter-party conflict did not consist merely of the
struggle for political power between the Nationalists (Partai
Nasional Indonesia, PNI), Masjumi, the Moslem Ulama (Nahdatul
Ulama, NU), the Communists (Partai Komunis Indonesia, PKI),
and the several dozen minor parties of varying significance.®
Q
On the 1955 elections, see Herbert Feith, The Indo-
nesian Elections of 1955 (Ithaca, N. Y.: Cornell Modern Indo-
nesia Project, Interim Reports Series, 1957), and A. van Marie,
"The First Indonesian Parliamentary Elections," Indonesle, IX,
3 (June 1956).
g
On the origins and orientations of Indonesia's many
parties, see Kahin, Nationalism and Revolution, and Feith,
Decline of Constitutional Democracy.8
Among these parties there was little common ground of political
and social consensus. The elite generally was small enough for
its members to know one another well, but they were socially
diverse and ideologically divided. Except for a few minor
parties organized around Djakarta cliques, the party system
was based primarily on pre-existing social divisions which were
articulated, usually, in ideological terms. Of the major
parties, the PNI, Masjumi, and NU particularly represented
distinguishable aliran (literally "currents") of social-politi-
cal origins and attitudes.
The PNI, formed in 1945 as the successor to the original
PNI of the late 1920's—the first explicitly nationalist party,
led by Soekarno—was and remains the party of the Javanese
elite, the aristocrats who occupied the upper level of tradi-
tional Javanese society, the bureaucrats new and old, whose
orientation was less ideological in fact than social. In the
1955 elections the PNI emerged as the strongest party partly
because it controlled the regional bureaucracy, partly because
it was identified with President Soekarno, and partly because
it represented a middle ground between Islamic and Communist
extremes. Even after the PNI began seriously to decline after
1957, this latter consideration remained one of its advantages.
Moreover, no matter how weak the party seemed to become, its
essential strength as the party of the Javanese elite, the
quintessential in-group of Djakarta politics, remained. Several
minor parties, some of them split off from the PNI, were
largely of the same aliran. One common concern among them was
their enmity towards the Islamic aliran.
Masjumi, NU, the Partai Sarekat Islam Indonesia (PSII)
and four or' five minor parties of mainly local significance
represented Islam between them. It was a badly divided world.
Masjumi was created originally during the Japanese occupation
as an umbrella organization of disparate Islamic groups and
was then organized again with the same name early in the revo-
lution. The PSII split away from the party in 1947; and NU,
which had been first organized in 1926, followed suit in 1952.
The truncated Masjumi reflected the "modernist" trend in Islam,
under strong Abduhist and purist influences, while NU repre-
sented a Javanese Islam of powerful conservative, traditional-
ist, and sufiist inclinations. Masjumi was the party of the
outer islands and West Java, with adherents among small and
middle-sized Islamic traders. NU was supported mainly by the
landowning ulamas and kiajls of East Java and the Islamic
bureaucracy (primarily Islamic courts and religious offices)
of Central and East Java. Originally NU had been formed as a
reaction against the modernist efforts of Muhammadijah, an
educational and social foundation which became a major source
of leadership for Masjumi. The differences between the two
parties in orientation, interest, and character made Islamic
unity almost impossible to achieve, even in the face of pro-
found threats to the cause of political Islam.9
The struggle between the proponents and opponents of
ideological Islam is basic to post-revolutionary Indonesian
history, but of much older origin. The Dutch had in effect
imposed an uneasy truce on a centuries long struggle. It
emerged again early in the nationalist movement and accelerated
through the revolution and into independence. It appeared to
be the main barrier to ideological consensus in the independent
state, and sooner or later it had to be settled. The struggle
was exacerbated by the election campaign of 1955, and there-
after was constantly articulated in the Constituent Assembly
on the basic (but nevertheless somewhat spurious) issue of
whether the state should be secular or based on Islamic tenets.
Inevitably, because of the distribution of Islamic strength
through the archipelago, the resolution of the struggle became
entangled with the fate of the regional conflict. Divided,
and in any case historically weak in the Central and East
Javanese heartland, political Islam fell in the period of
Guided Democracy. Masjumi was finally abolished, and NU quickly
adjusted to the new situation, reducing the national role of
the Islamic aliran.
In opposing the claims of Islam, the PNI and other
nationalist parties were joined by the PKI, which in 1955 was
the fourth largest party in the country and by 1957 had become
the largest. The role of the PKI in the period of Guided
Democracy was, however, quite different from that of the other
parties. For while most parties grew continually weaker, the
PKI was able to grow stronger and to bring increasing pressure
to bear on the government, from which it was in large measure
excluded.
One important reason for the differing fates of the
parties was the PKI's ability to transcend aliran politics. A
major source of Communist support, it is true, came from the
abangan majority of Central and East Java—the pre- and essen-
tially non- but still nominally Islamic Javanese peasant class.
The PNI and the PKI shared the abangan vote, but while the PNI
approached the peasant through the traditional channels of the
aristocratic and bureaucratic prljaji (gentry) elite, the PKI
appealed directly to his interests. In general the PNI took
the peasantry (and the urban lower classes) for granted? the
PKI did not. The difference was indicated by the way in which
leaders of the various parties conceived their political role.
After the 1957 regional elections, in which the PKI greatly
increased its electoral strength, the PNI accused the PKI of
stealing PNI voters while pretending to be the PNI's friend.
This accusation betrayed an assumption common in the party
world except among the PKI that parties were mainly a means of
selecting leaders, who would then exercise their leadership
undisturbed by popular demands. Many party leaders felt that
they had a well defined clientele, requiring only a certain
minimum of attention, and that this entitled them to partici-
pate in the government without challenge. The antipathy of10
non-Communist party leaders to the PKI was due as much to that
party's violation of the traditional rules as it was to the
more sophisticated reasons sometimes offered. The fact was
that the PKI came closer than the other parties to playing the
parliamentary game as it should be played.
Unlike the PNI, the PKI was truly an ideological party?
and, unlike Masjumi and the NU, its ideology was unquestionably
modern. In this, and in its obvious concern for popular social
and economic interests/ the PKI was able to extend its appeal
beyond a simple aliran context. The PKI therefore threatened
not only the other parties but the entire traditional elite.
It has been mentioned that this elite is an ascriptive one/ a
main threat to whose position would appear to be the growth of
a forceful egalitarianism. In fact/ however/ the elite escaped
this threat partly by adopting egalitarian ideological symbols.
Thus there developed the contradiction that while Indonesian
ideology often appears to be radical/ the social reality of
Indonesia—the very elite which articulates the radical ideol-
ogy—is decidedly conservative. Assuming the garb of the
opposition was not enough, however, and the traditional elite
quickly recognized the danger of the PKI's more genuine radi-
calism. The development of Guided Democracy was also in part
a reply to this challenge.11
CHAPTER I
THE END OF PARTY GOVERNMENT AND THE
COURSE OF THE REGIONAL CRISIS
The fall of the second Ali Sastroamidjojo Cabinet in
March 1957 marked the end of parliamentary government in Indo-
nesia. Like every Cabinet before it since the revolution# the
second Ali Cabinet was based on a coalition# this time of the
PNI (the party of the premier)# Masjumi# NU# and a few minor
parties. The coalitions had always been led by either Masjumi
or the PNI# and of the larger parties only the PKI had been
excluded from all post-revolutionary cabinets. In the six
years since the transfer of sovereignty# the system of party
government had come under increasingly strong attack; and when
the 1955 elections failed to produce a more decisive national
leadership the attacks intensified. Condemnation of the parties
stemmed partly from utopian attitudes about politics and from
memories of a supposed golden age of national unity during the
revolution· but still it was true that party government had
not lived up to national hopes. The national press frequently
charged that there were too many parties# about forty of which
had survived the elections. No single party had a sufficient
majority to govern; and the result was instability# with cabi-
nets falling before they could hope to undertake—if they were
so inclined—effective programs of economic development. The
parties were accused of putting cabinets together on the basis
of petty political bargaining# something which enabled the
small parties to play disproportionately important roles. It
was also claimed that it was the second echelon notables who
were being chosen as cabinet ministers# while the top party
leaders were taking the role of powers-behind-the-throne,
making the Government always dependent upon their judgments.
The parties were also accused# with some justice, of having
become leadership cliques# with little representative character.
Only the Communists enjoyed the reputation of having a respect-
able party organization and good discipline. The other parties
were plagued by corruption# and government offices under their
influence fell prey to party and personal financial needs.
Under the pressure of national crisis, the Ali Cabinet
received the full impact not only of these accusations but in
addition of an assault upon parliamentary government by Presi-
dent Soekarno# who for the first time stepped actively and
openly into the position of leader of the anti-parliamentary
forces of independent Indonesia. When the Government finally
resigned# Soekarno played the major role in creating a new
Government. This new Government# formed in April, was a transi-
tional cabinet,something between the old party type cabinet
and the presidential cabinet that was to be introduced later.12
The parties continued to be represented in it, informally, but
their influence on policy was minimal, and Parliament's author-
ity began to decline more rapidly. Shortly after the new
cabinet took office, it created under Soekarno's leadership
the National Council (Dewan Nasional)—an extraordinary consti-
tutional innovation, which became the institutional focus of
Guided Democracy for nearly the next five years, before it too
declined in importance.
The formation of the new cabinet and the National
Council were made possible by martial law, proclaimed on
March 14, 1957, the day after Prime Minister Ali resigned. In
retrospect, it is clear that martial law was the death blow to
the parliamentary system. Not only did it place heavy restraints
on normal political activity, but it also provided a legal basis
for the anti-party activities of Soekarno and the army. In
particular it brought the officer corps legitimately into poli-
tics.
The immediate cause of these events was the regional
crisis, which dominated Indonesian politics from 1956 through
early 1958, when the conflict broke out into open rebellion.
The resolution of the regional crisis was to help consolidate
the new political order of Guided Democracy.
This chapter will discuss very briefly the fall of the
Ali Cabinet, the formation of the new Kabinet Karya (Work
Cabinet), the establishment of the National Council, and the
development of the regional conflict. Martial law will be
left for the next chapter. Neither chapter I nor chapter II
is intended to cover its subject fully, but only to sketch in
major developments during 1957 and early 1958.
The Fall of the Second Ali Cabinet and
the Formation of the Kabinet Karya
As it drew to its end, the Ali Cabinet had to contend
with the combined effects of regional disobedience, army rest-
lessness, and national impatience with the imperfect workings
of parliamentary government. The Government had been trying
for several months to control the illegal smuggling and barter
activities that were being carried out under the aegis of mili-
tary commanders in Sulawesi and Sumatra.! A series of army-
centered crises began in October with the attempted arrest of
Foreign Minister Roeslan Abdulgani by the West Java commandant,
Col. Kawilarang, a highly respected officer from Sulawesi. In
November a handful of West Javanese troops, led by Col. Zulkifli
^See Herbert Feith, The Decline of Constitutional
Democracy in Indonesia (Ithaca, N. Y.: Cornell University
Press, 1962), pp. 487ff.13
Lubis, a young political activist from Sumatra, tried to march
on Djakarta. This attempt was foiled, but Lubis refused to
appear before his military superiors and went into hiding; from
there he later became involved in the rebellious activities of
the outer island commanders. By the end of December bloodless
coups had led to the establishment of dissident regional
councils in Central, North, and South Sumatra. In North
Sumatra, however, a successful counter-coup forced the panglima,
Col. Simbolon, to flee to Central Sumatra (under the command
of Lt. Col. Husein); his subordinate, Lt. Col. Djamin Gintings,
took over the command of North Sumatra with Djakarta's help.
Already very high, national tension was increased by
the resignation of Vice President Hatta, in December 1956. A
Sumatran, Hatta was regarded by outer island groups as their
own representative and a counterpoise to the Javanese Soekarno
(for reasons of political attitude and approach as well as
ethnic origin). But Soekarno and Hatta—the symbolically
crucial Dwitunggal (duumvirate) of Indonesian national politics
since the Japanese occupation—had found it increasingly diffi-
cult to get along with one another both personally and politi-
cally. When Hatta finally resigned, only partly because he
disagreed with the Government's handling of the regional crisis,
outer island leaders took the situation as another major
affront to the position of all non-Javanese. Thereafter Hatta
became the symbol not of unity but of dissension.
At the same time, during the final months of 1956, the
political party system was coming daily under more vehement
attack—by Soekarno, by Hatta himself, by army leaders, and by
the independent press. Elements within the party system itself
even joined the attack, in particular the minor party Murba
(Proletarian), 5^iose leaders and sympathizers were developing
a close political association with Soekarno.
In these critical months of early 1957, the major
parties differed fundamentally in their response to the regional
conflict and to the prospect of a new cabinet. Masjumi justi-
fied the regional movement as a proper demand for the redressing
of the balance between the outer islands and Java. Masjumi
therefore sought a new cabinet capable of working out a solu-
tion of the regional crisis which would be favorable to the
regions. The party's future in fact depended upon such a solu-
tion. Thus Masjumi, and several allied parties, called for a
new "business" (non-party) cabinet headed by Hatta to be
established for an indeterminate period during which it could
restore confidence in the government.2 it was calculated that
2
Hatta had led two "Presidential" cabinets—formally
responsible to the President—during the revolution; the last
one had accepted the transfer of sovereignty from the Dutch.
This kind of non-party business cabinet, as in the Netherlands,14
a Hatta cabinet would be the best means of both restraining
Soekarno and countering his dealings with the Communists.
The PNI and NU were more inclined to take the Javanese
view, that the regional challenge was a threat to national
unity; both were distinctly reluctant to give up the existing
cabinet. The PKI, supporting the cabinet but not represented
in it, had good reason to encourage a firm stand against the
regions. For not only were the outer islands strongly anti-
communist, but in addition the dissident regional councils were
led by army officers; and to the extent that the officer corps
was generally anti-Communist, the PKI had much to gain from a
split among the officers and much to lose from their reuniting.
Therefore, concerned lest a new cabinet favor Masjumi's posi-
tion or bring the anti-Communist Hatta back into authority,
the PKI gave as much support as the PNI and NU to the Ali
Cabinet's attempt to continue.
The burden of so many pressures, however, was too great
for the cabinet to hold together. In December, IPKI, a minor
party composed largely of former army members, withdrew its
Minister of Veteran's Affairs from the Government, a move which
probably reflected the army's interest in bringing the cabinet
down.3 On January 9, 1957, despite the opposition of several
Masjumi leaders, all five Masjumi cabinet ministers resigned.
A week later, the minor Islamic party Perti also left the
cabinet. Following Masjumi's resignation, the truncated coali-
tion of the PNI and NU decided to reshuffle the cabinet and
continue with parliamentary support from the PKI. But President
Soekarno, on being informed of Prime Minister Ali's intentions,
said he was convinced that not even a complete renovation of
the cabinet would enable it to achieve stability; nothing less
than a new system of government was needed.* * 3 4 The cabinet lasted
one more month.
was regarded as the best means of handling a politically divi-
sive crisis. Hatta himself wanted to become Prime Minister
rather than to return to the vice-presidency, which he con-
sidered an ineffective position.
3
IPKI (Ikatan Pendukung Kemerdekaan Indonesia, League
of Supporters of Indonesian Independence) had been organized in
1954-1955 by a group of former army officers, including Gen.
Nasution before his return to the position of Chief-of-Staff.
It was more of an army pressure group than a party. Once back
in command of the army, Nasution gradually pulled away from
IPKI, though he maintained some influence over it. But IPKI
continued to represent an army point of view and increased in
significance during the next few years as the army itself
became politically more active.
4
See Soekarno's speech of February 21, 1957, in Minis-
try of Information, Kronik Dokumentasi, Demokrasl Terplmpin
(Guided Democracy), pp. 4-5.15
Clearly much more was involved now than the mere demise
of another Government. Five cabinets had fallen since 1950/
but never with any question that parliamentary government would
survive. Parliamentary debates in December and January touched
on this issue again and again. Members of the PNI, NU, and
the PKI argued that for the cabinet to resign because of the
regional crisis would prove the incapacity of Indonesian
government to cope with the most critical national problems.
Supporters of the Government asked whether, "if we do not all
defend this Cabinet, the result of general elections, should
the parties now existing in Indonesia continue to have the
right to exist?"5 one MP asserted that what was important for
his party was not the cabinet itself, but the question of the
life or death of the parliamentary system of government.6
On March 2nd, Lt. Col. Sumual, commander of the seventh
military district (Sulawesi and the rest of East Indonesia),
followed the lead of his Sumatran colleagues by proclaiming a
state of siege in his territory and announcing the creation of
a "Total Struggle" movement (Perdjuangan Semesta, or Permesta)
to assume governmental responsibility for the area.? The
cabinet could not face this new challenge. Amidst conflicting
but equally vociferous demands for the restoration of the
Soekarno-Hatta Dwitunggal on the one hand and the implementa-
tion of Soekarno's Konsepsi on the other, Ali went to the
President on March 14th to return the cabinet's mandate.
Throughout the preceding weeks, Maj. Gen. Nasution and Deputy
Chief-of-Staff Gatot Soebroto had been pressing their view
that martial law should be declared throughout the state to
counteract the effect of the regional proclamations of martial
law and to enable military leaders to deal with the ominous
split in the army. Soekarno agreed, and just before he resigned
Ali signed a decree—the validity of which was much disputed
because of the demissionary status of the cabinet—proclaiming
a national state of siege.°
5
Ajip Muchamad Dzukhri (of NU), in Ichtisar Parlemen
(IP, Summaries of Parliamentary Debates) 1957, p. 50, session
of Jan. 29, 1957.
θ
Soepardi (Pembangunan, associated with the PKI) in
IP/1957, p. 56, session of Jan. 30, 1957.
7
Feith, Decline of Constitutional Democracy, pp. 544-546
Q
The State of Siege was based on a Netherlands East
Indies statute, the Regeling op den Staat van Oorlog en van
Beleg (Regulation on the State of War and of Siege) of 1939,
usually shortened to SOB. A State of Siege is the most drastic
of the two levels of martial law? art. 37 of the law provided
that "The military authority is empowered, in deviation from
provisions of general regulations, to take measures of any kind16
Martial law catapulted military commanders everywhere
in the country into positions of formidable authority, such as
they had known only during the revolution. In each region the
civil administration was subordinated to army headquarters.
At the national level in Djakarta, however, though the General
Staff headed the martial law administration, it was not Gen.
Nasution but Soekarno who became the chief martial law author-
ity, θ This did not follow from the law, however, for according
to that the President's position as Commander-in-Chief of the
armed forces was symbolic. But both Ali and the General Staff
agreed that Soekarno should assume the role, and if the theory
of this was never worked out it meant in practice that Soekarno's
real political authority was unquestionable and that army
leaders remained loyal to him. This fact did not reduce—al-
though it did limit politically—the immense legal authority
given to army leaders under martial law. Nasution was himself
being challenged by the regionalist officers, and he did not
then possess the political strength which he acquired subse-
quently. Between him and Soekarno a mutual political dependence
arose which was to be of profound significance for the next
two years.
Meanwhile Soekarno announced his "Konsepsi" on February
21st, after weeks of rumour about his intentions. In October
1956, on his return from a trip to China, the U.S.S.R., and
Eastern Europe, he had attacked the parliamentary system and
proposed, before the opening session of the Constituent Assembly,
that political parties be "buried." He was later to say that
he meant this to shock the parties into reform. Whether seeing
the progress mainland China had made moved him to demand imme-
diate change in Indonesia is not entirely clear, though that
may have influenced him. It is likely, however, that the
greater influence on him in late 1956 was the regional crisis
and the apparent groundswell of opinion that had already de-
veloped against the parties. Moreover there was a possibility
that the army might do something if he did not. In any event,
the ideas he advanced then were old ones in his thinking.
Following the Constituent Assembly speech, Soekarno declared
his belief that Indonesia should develop a new political system,
one more closely related to the country's traditions, a demo-
cracy with leadership that would give the nation a just and
whatsoever ... when it considers them necessary in view of
the immediate emergency situation." Since the beginning of the
revolution, various parts of the country had been under either
a State of War or a State of Siege, so that it was not alto-
gether a new experience? indeed, martial law had been protested
for years in several regions.
g
In formal terms, however, it was Djuanda, as Minister
of Defense, who was ultimately responsible for all acts under
the State of Siege.17
prosperous society. Near the end of 1956 he announced that he
had an idea—a Konsepsi—whose implementation would save the
country from impending disaster.
The Konsepsi contained two basic proposals. The first
was that a new cabinet should be formed of all four major par-
ties/ thus ending the post-revolutionary ostracization of the
PKI. Comparing the three-party cabinet to a horse with only
three legs, Soekarno pointed out that the Communists repre-
sented a quarter of the nation and therefore should not be
excluded from the government. The new four-party cabinet
would be a gotong-rojong (mutual help) cabinet, one in which
all the parties would somehow be made to work together for the
national interest. Part two of the Konsepsi was that a National
Council (Dewan Nasional) made up of representatives of func-
tional groups—labor, peasants, youth, women, etc.—should be
established under Soekarno's leadership. Its function would
be "to give advice to the Cabinet, whether this advice is re-
quested or not. And because this National Council will con-
sist of representatives ... of groups that are functional
in society, therefore ... it will be a reflection of society,
just as the Cabinet is a reflection of Parliament."10 A major
purpose of the National Council would be to buttress the
authority of a new Government.
The first part of the proposal set off an explosive
reaction. There were several reasons why Soekarno sought to
bring the PKI into the Government, though it is impossible to
determine now what his final objectives were in relation to
the party. The exclusion of the PKI was an element in the
national disunity which Soekarno wanted to end by forcing all
the parties to stand together. Moreover the PKI was by far
the best organized and most vigorous party in the country? its
labor federation, SOBSI (Sentral Organisasi Buruh Seluruh
Indonesia, All Indonesia Central Labor Organization), and
peasant organization, BTI (Barisan Tani Indonesia, Indonesian
Peasant Front), were the largest and most active of all such
organizations.il To Soekarno it may have seemed that Communist
vitality and dedication—and their increasing popular support--
would be useful in stimulating the government to more progressive
policies. There may be some doubt about the relative importance
See Kronik Dokumentasi, Demokrasl Terpimpln, pp. 4 ff,
for the text of the speech? see also Ministry of Information,
Dewan Nasional (National Council), 1957, passim.
HaII the major parties and a few of the minor ones
had both labor and peasant organizations associated with them,
but none were as effective as the PKI's.18
of these points in Soekarno's mind/ but there were others of
unquestioned importance. Being feared by the other parties and
disliked by army leaders, the PKI was a useful ally to Soekarno,
who possessed no organized political following of his own. The
PKI had already decided, a few years earlier, to give the
President its support—just as it made every effort to cooperate
with the PNI, the bourgeois nationalist middle group—against
the right wing, represented mainly by Masjumi and the small
but intellectually influential Socialist Party (Partai Sosialis
Indonesia, PSI). These tactics enabled the PKI to recover
gradually from the decline it had suffered after its rebellion
against the revolutionary republic at Madiun in 1948. In ex-
change for its backing, the PKI expected and increasingly needed
Soekarno's protection against the army. Through the operation
of inbuilt political hostilities, Soekarno was able to develop
an intricate system of tacit alliances: with the army against
the party system on the one hand; and with the PKI (and to a
lesser extent the other parties) against the army on the other.
Soekarno did not fear, as many others did, that the
PKI would somehow take over the country. Not only were the
Communists restricted by the army, but in addition Soekarno
was convinced that they were as much nationalist as Communist
and that the party could be divorced from its foreign alle-
giances. It was also significant that the PKI alone among
the parties remained untainted by responsibility for the polit-
ical and economic decline of the post-revolutionary years; and
from this fact the Communists drew strength. Soekarno's
attempt to bring the PKI into the Government was partly aimed
at giving it a share of responsibility, thus making it harder
for the Communists to avoid some blame for whatever went wrong.
For its part, the PKI wanted to enter the Government both for
the protection this would offer it and for the step this might
be on the road to power.
Opposition to the idea of a gotong-rojong cabinet was
too great, however. Army leaders made their misgivings clear
to Soekarno. Masjumi, the NU, PSI, Christian parties, and a
host of others—not to mention regionalist leaders—who regarded
Soekarno's support of the PKI as disastrous, attacked the four-
legged cabinet notion vehemently. Under Soekarno's influence,
the PNI might reluctantly have accepted PKI membership in the
cabinet; but the PNI alone was not enough, and Soekarno was
compelled to retreat. Opposition to a gotong-rojong cabinet
was the first major strategic error of the parties in their
12
See Ruth T. McVey, "Indonesian Communism and the
Transition to Guided Democracy," in A. Doak Barnett, ed.,
Communist Strategies in Asia (New York, London: Praeger, 1963),
and Donald Hindley, "President Soekarno and the Communists:
the Politics of Domestication," APSR, LVI (Dec. 1962), 915-927.19
attempt to defend the parliamentary system. By rejecting PKI
inclusion in the Government, the anti-Communist parties also
sacrificed party control of the Government.13
Ignoring Masjumi's claims to the right to form a new
Government, and avoiding demands for either a Hatta cabinet or
one led by himself, Soekarno on March 15, 1957, appointed the
national chairman of the PNI, Suwirjo, as formateur of a party
cabinet. Suwirjo failed, but on March 25th Soekarno reappointed
him to form a business cabinet of experts, a cabinet "which
will take ... firm steps [to deal with the political crisis]
and will establish a National Council in accord with the Presi-
dent's Konsepsi." Again Suwirjo failed, returning his mandate
on April 2nd.
The inability of the PNI, NU, and Masjumi to come to
terms ended the parties' opportunity to create a new Govern-
ment, for Soekarno then took matters into his own hands. On
April 14th he convened a meeting at the palace of sixty-nine
leaders from various parties and half as many military officers
and others. The President told the assembled group that he
intended to appoint himself formateur of an extra-parliamentary
emergency business cabinet. Much to their surprise, the poli-
ticians were then handed slips of paper on which they were
asked to indicate whether they would be willing to serve in
this new cabinet. A majority said they would; most Masjumi
leaders present said they would not. The procedure betokened
a graduation from old political forms. Masjumi and its allies
accused Soekarno of a gross illegality, for he had no substan-
tive constitutional authority· but the charge was no more
13
In 1958, Roeslan Abdulgani, vice-chairman of the
National Council, said, "It should be borne in mind that his
[Soekarno1s] idea of a 'gotong-rojong' cabinet, if implemented,
would have tended to divest the President himself of some de
facto power. This, of course, the President well knew. His
own position of political strength is, in the present instabil-
ity, based to some extent on the fact that he, and the presi-
dency, are stable factors. A 'gotong-rojong1 cabinet would
have been stable, resting on the elected Parliament, and shar-
ing in whatever stability that Parliament maintained. Thus,
relatively speaking the President's de facto power would have
been lessened." Roeslan Abdulgani, "The First Year of the
National Council," Far Eastern Survey, XXVII, no. 7 (July 1958),
97-104.
It is questionable whether such a cabinet would in
fact have been more stable, but the point is that the parties
would at least have been in control of the cabinet. However,
this proposition is qualified by some doubt about how army
leaders would have reacted to a four-party cabinet.20
effective than the earlier one that Ali Sastroamidjojo1s signing
of the proclamation of martial law had been invalid.*4
Soekarno proceeded to form a new Government, which he
called the Kabinet Karya. As Prime Minister he appointed Ir.
Djuanda Kartawidjaja, an independent who had served in nearly
every cabinet since 1945. Djuanda, who had earlier headed the
National Planning Bureau, was widely respected as a technically
capable and moderate man with no political debts. But his
appointment was politically important in that he was Sundanese
(West Java)j he thus represented the second most powerful
ethnic group in the country, one whose enmity towards the
Javanese had found expression in the regional crisis, and whose
importance is enhanced by the fact that the capital is located
in West Java.
Masjumi and the Catholic Party formally refused seats
in the new cabinet, but Soekarno undercut their opposition
somewhat by detaching individual members from Masjumi and by
otherwise representing the Catholic community. The Protestant
Party (Partai Keristen Indonesia, Parkindo) also refused ini-
tially to support the Kabinet Karya but reversed its stand
soon afterwards. In the list of cabinet members that follows,
party affiliations are given in parentheses because the Kabinet
Karya was explicitly non-partys
Prime Minister
First Vice-Prime Minister
Second Vice-Prime Minister
Third Vice-Prime Minister
Defense
Foreign Affairs
Internal Affairs
Justice
Ir.15 H. Djuanda
Mr. Hardi
K. H. Idham Chaiid
Dr. J. Leimena
Ir. H. Djuanda
Dr. Subandrio
Sanusi Hardjadinata
Maengkom
Information
Sudibjo
(non-party)
(PNI)
(NU)
(Parkindo)
(non-party)
(non-party)
(PNI)
(non-party,
a Catholic)
(PSII)
14
Both "deviations" were justified by the chairman of
the Supreme Court, Wirjono Prodjodikoro, on the grounds that
an emergency situation—which undoubtedly existed—permitted a
government to override some procedures. For Ali's defense of
his counter-signature of the State of Siege decree, see Pedoman,
April 9, 1957.
15
Ir. is an abbreviation of the Dutch title Engineer?
Mr. is Meester in de Rechten, master of laws, or lawyer. H.
before a name usually signifies Hadji, one who has made the
pilgrimage to Mecca. K. H. is Kiaji Hadji, Kiaji being an
honorific title for a venerated Islamic leader or teacher.
Drs. (Doctorandus) is a Dutch academic degree higher than a
master's but lower than a doctorate.21
Finance	Mr. Sutikno Slamet	(PNI)
Industries	Ir. F. J. Inkiriwang	(non-party,
Trade	Prof. Drs. Sunardjo	a Protestant) (NU)
Agriculture	Mr. Sadjarwo	(BTI)
Communications	Mr. Sukardan	(non-party)
Navigation	Col. (Navy) Nazir	(non-party) (Masjumi)1θ
Public Works	Ir. Pangeran Moh. Noor	
Agrarian Affairs	Mr. Sunarjo	(NU)
Labor	Mr. Samjono	(non-party)
Education and Culture	Prof. Dr. Prijono	(Murba)
Health	Dr. Col. Aziz Saleh	(IPKI)
Social Affairs	Muljadi Djojomartono	(Masjumi)16
Religion	K. H. Iljas	(NU)
Veterans Affairs	Chaerul Saleh	(non-party)
Mobilization of People's Energies for Development	A. M. Hanafi	(non-party) (SKI)17
Interregional Relations	Dr. F. L. Tobing	
The cabinet program, determined by Soekarno, consisted
of five points: 1) to establish the National Council; 2) to
normalize the situation of the Republic; 3) to continue with
the abrogation of the Round Table Conference agreements
4) to continue the struggle for West Irian; and 5) to undertake
rapid development.19
The Kabinet Karya came immediately under attack from
anti-Communists who mistakenly regarded several new ministers—
16
Noor and Muljadi Djojomartono were expelled from
Masjumi for accepting posts in the new cabinet.
17
SKI—Serikat Kerakjatan Indonesia, Indonesia People's
Association, a quite minor nationalist party.
18
The Round Table Conference agreements were concluded
in The Hague before the transfer of sovereignty at the end of
1949. Among other things, they created a Netherlands-Indonesia
Union, saddled Indonesia with a considerable debt, and offered
protection to Dutch commercial enterprises in Indonesia. The
Union was unilaterally abrogated by the Burhanuddin Harahap
(Masjumi) Cabinet in 1955 (see Feith, Decline of Constitutional
Democracy, pp. 450-456) and further abrogation of the agreements
was in the programs of both the succeeding Ali Sastroamidjojo
Cabinet and the Kabinet Karya. The demand for abrogation was
party connected with Indonesia's attempt to force the Dutch
Government to negotiate the status of West Irian. The RTC
agreements were in fact finally swept away completely in late
1957.
19
See Djuanda's first report to Parliament in IP/1957,
pp. 242 ff, session of May 17, 1957.22
including Hanafi, Sadjarwo, Prijono, and Chaerul Saleh--as
either Communists or sympathetic to the PKI. Hanafi was the
most suspect of these ministers because of informal connections
he apparently had with PKI leaders. Sadjarwo had formerly been
a member of the BTI but had left it and was not closely associ-
ated with the PKI thereafter? in 1958 he joined the PNI. Pri-
jono, recipient of a Stalin Peace Prize, was a member of the
Murba party, and Chaerul Saleh was merely sympathetic with
Murba's views. Although Murba and the PKI had on occasion been
close to one another, their relationship was in the main one
of open and bitter hostility. Sometimes called a national
communist group, though its views were hardly that clearly de-
fined, Murba was of minor significance as a party organization.
But its leaders had been the young radicals of the revolution?
they had been followers of Tan Malaka, the longtime revolution-
ary thinker and leader who was killed during the revolution,
and they remained devoted to his memory. In August 1945,
several of these men—including Chaerul Saleh, who did not be-
come a member of Murba, however—had kidnapped Soekarno and
Hatta and forced them on to proclaiming independence. From
this endeavor they apparently enjoyed a psychological influence
over Soekarno, who was also sympathetic to the radical nation-
alist way of thinking they still represented. Soekarno chose
Chaerul Saleh for special grooming. Chaerul and several Murba
leaders were closely connected with the vaguely articulated
"Generation of 1945," which, as a symbol of revolutionary
radicalism, also received increasing attention from Soekarno.
Apart from the Communist issue, Masjumi attacked the
Kabinet Karya as unconstitutional. More to the point for Mas-
jumi was the fact that this Government seemed unlikely to favor
the regional cause, to whose fate Masjumi's own position was
closely related. There were others who rejected the cabinet,
but most groups, having already concluded that something new
must be tried, found it at least acceptable.20
Despite his calling this a non-party business cabinet,
it is obvious that in forming it Soekarno paid careful atten-
tion to the parties. Implicitly the Kabinet Karya was a PNI-NU
coalition, and it was to remain that for the next several
years. Furthermore, both Soekarno and Prime Minister Djuanda
emphasized the cabinet's continuing responsibility to Parlia-
ment? and Djuanda promised to report to it regularly. Several
months after the new Government was inaugurated, Djuanda said
that although there had been no motion or resolution of any
kind in Parliament on whether the Kabinet Karya should be ac-
cepted, yet he felt it should be pointed out that in fact only
Masjumi, the Catholic party, and the Indonesian People's Party
(Partai Rakjat Indonesia, PRI, a very minor party, led by
20
See press reports in Kronik Dokumentasi, Demokrasi
Terpimpin, pp. 99 ff.23
Sutomo—Bung Tomo—an East Javanese revolutionary hero) had
rejected the cabinet.21 The Kabinet Karya thus enjoyed a par-
liamentary majority and was therefore legitimate in constitu-
tional terms. This was but one of the anomalies of the Kabinet
Karya system, in which the formal structure of the government
was adjusted to the realities of political power.
No one doubted, however, that Parliament had suffered
a precipitous decline. Regardless of Djuanda's assurances,
Parliament could no longer exercise full control over the
Government. This was only partly because the cabinet could not
be forced to resign—a guarantee of stability. More important
was the fact that the cabinet itself, whatever pressure Parlia-
ment might bring to bear on it, no longer in fact exercised
full governmental powers. Political authority in the new
system was more diffuse than ever. Soekarno's power was great
and could not be touched. Moreover, martial law reduced the
powers of civil government generally, and it also justified
an extraordinary use of executive emergency laws and decrees,
over which Parliament could exercise very little control.
Parliament's own legislative powers were not formally re-
stricted, but in practice they were shared with the President
and with the military commanders, and neither of these forces
was in any way accountable to Parliament. Summing up the
changing distribution of authority, Kahin said in 1958 that,
"the inauguration of this cabinet has diminished the role of
both Parliament and the political parties in approximate pro-
portion to the considerably increased role of the President
and the army."22
The National Council
The Kabinet Karya established the National Council by
emergency law in May 1957.22 This major innovation was not in-
tended simply as an aid to the cabinet. As a "reflection of
society," in Soekarno's view, it must be of a higher order than
the cabinet, which was only a "reflection of Parliament."
21
Ministry of Information, Djuanda's second report to
Parliament, p. 19.
22
George McT. Kahin, "Indonesia," in Kahin, ed., Major
Governments of Asia (Ithaca, N. Y.: Cornell University Press,
1st ed., 1958), p. 568.
23
For the law, see Ministry of Information, Dewan
Nasional, pp. 8-13. Use of the emergency law evoked strong
criticism from Parliament by groups opposed to Soekarno and by
others (in NU, for example) who feared that the National Council
would push Parliament from the scene. See IP/1957, p. 341,
session of June 3, 1957, and Djuanda's defense of the Council,
IP/1957, p. 352, session of June 7, 1957.24
The National Council served several purposes. First,
it did reinforce the authority of the cabinet by giving Soekarno
a channel to it and by associating him with it. From now on,
the public perceived the Kabinet Karya, Soekarno, and the
National Council as collectively constituting the Government,
formalities notwithstanding. Soekarno's tremendous prestige
enabled the Government to govern, most importantly by making
it acceptable to the officer corps.
Second, the National Council gave Soekarno an institu-
tional forum and means of obtaining advice and support in deal-
ing with other political forces. Previously he had required no
regular assistance, for he had only occasionally made purpose-
ful excursions to the center of political activity. From now
on Soekarno was to be continually and critically involved, an
arrangement for which the 1950 Constitution made no provision.
A precedent for the National Council existed in the first con-
stitution of the Republic, that of 1945. In this instrument
the President had possessed extremely broad executive powers.
For reasons that will be discussed later, however, in 1957
Soekarno did not wish to resume the formal authority given him
by the 1945 Constitution.
Third, the National Council, based as it was on func-
tional groups, was intended as a counterpoise to the ideological
party system. This was an important issue in the development
of Guided Democracy, for Soekarno and many others regarded the
ideological divisions of the party world as largely to blame
for national disunity. The functional group concept, which
Soekarno had had in mind already in the 1930's, was an alterna-
tive basis for organizing the nation. Functional groups—
although they never acquired true organizational form—also
offered a source of new political leadership, which the aging
parties (excepting the PKI) had ceased to produce. And they
were, moreover, a source of political support for Soekarno,
insurance against the time when the parties might disappear
altogether. From the beginning, party leaders recognized the
threat of the functional group idea, and by the second half of
1957 they were warily trying to shunt it aside. Mr. Utrecht,
a legal scholar and an active member of the PNI, had this to
say of the National Council in 1959:
What has been achieved by the National Council since its
creation in 1957? It is necessary to point out first that
although the National Council was not intended to replace
Parliament as the highest legislative body, yet it did
have a special objective . . . : the political parties—
which control Parliament—were presented with a counter-
balance in the form of functional groups, which in the
National Council were given an opportunity ... to partici-
pate in policy making. The National Council was meant to
reduce the influence on the Government of Parliament, which
suffered the instability of the party system .... It was
intended that there would be a shift of political power25
from Parliament—i.e., from the political parties—to the
Government via the National Council! In practice, these
objectives in forming the National Council have to some
extent been realized. Since its establishment, as the
"politbureau" of the President, the National Council has
become an executive policy making body whose influence is
greater than that of Parliament. Most measures taken by
the executive during these last two years have been the
result of the work of the National Council. Thanks to
the National Council ... we have a more stable Govern-
ment. 24
Groups openly opposed to Soekarno also opposed the
National Council as an unconstitutional creation7 but from its
inception it was an essential part of the government. In
1957 and 1958 it played a key role in dealing with the regional
crisis, in formulating new domestic and foreign policy, and,
following the outbreak of rebellion in early 1958, in further
developing Guided Democracy. Although the cabinet was not
formally bound by the National Council's advice, Djuanda and
his Ministers rarely risked disregarding it. But an important
reason for this was that until mid-1958 the National Council
undertook little that directly threatened other interests.25
When in 1958 it began to deal with revision of the party system,
a major conflict developed between it and the cabinet. By
that time, moreover, Djuanda had become a more confident and
independent Prime Minister, inclined to try to pick his own
course between opposing forces.
The procedure of the National Council was determined
by Soekarno, who was its chairman? but organization and day to
day leadership was in the hands of the vice-chairman, Roeslan
Abdulgani, a member of the PNI, formerly Minister of Informa-
tion and Minister of Foreign Affairs, and an intelligent and
trusted associate of the President. Issues were not supposed
to be put to a vote, but rather to be discussed in committee
and plenum until some identifiable consensus had been reached.
This was the musjawarah (discussion)-mufakat (agreement)
deliberative process that Soekarno, seeking to revive Indo-
nesia's own traditions, had urged on the entire government.
24
E. Utrecht, Pengantar dalam Hukum Indonesia (Intro-
duction to Indonesian Law? Djakarta? Ichtiar, 1959), p. 442.
25
For a list of topics discussed by the National Council
in 1957 and 1958, see Ministry of Information, Mendjelang Dua
Tahun Kabinet Karya (Towards Two Years of the Kabinet Karya?
1959), pp. 748-752. Among the problems dealt with in 1957 were
the establishment of a New Life Movement, the National Confer-
ence and National Conference on Development, security and
national preparedness, problems of finance and the economy,
decentralization, cultural problems, and foreign affairs.26
But neither in the National Council nor elsewhere—with the
possible exception of village Indonesia, where issues are less
complicated—did the practice of musjawarah-mufakat live up to
the theory. Usually, in any group, it merely gave an added
advantage to the recognized group leader, whose responsibility
it was to determine what the sense of the discussion was; to his
judgment everyone would normally submit. But where vital
interests were at stake, the procedure either did not work at
all or it worked only on the surface, any decision being ig-
nored once everyone had played his part by giving public assent.
Thus in the National Council too, the musjawarah-mufakat ap-
proach seemed to work until, in late 1958, the members divided
on an issue crucial to the existence of political parties.
Then a vote had to be taken.
The National Council was inaugurated on July 12, 1957.
Forty-two members were originally appointed to the body and a
few were added by Soekarno in the course of the next year.
Several men refused membership, in some cases because they dis-
approved of Government policy towards the regions. Besides
functional groups, there were two other categories of repre-
sentation. The first was regional representation, the hope
being that the Council would serve as an effective channel for
regional demands. It was often proposed—usually by those who
feared the other aims of the National Council—that it might
eventually become a kind of senate.The second category was
ex-officio representation; under this heading were included
the vice-premiers—thus facilitating coordination with the
cabinet—and the armed forces (also police) chiefs-of-staff.
Providing a forum for the military greatly increased the signi-
ficance of the National Council. It also constituted recogni-
tion of the fact that the army could not be denied a place in
the inner circles of government.
The original members of the National Council were as
follows:
Soekarno
Roeslan Abdulgani
Vice-Prime Ministers Hardi, Idham, and Leimena
Army Chief-of-Staff Nasution
Navy Chief-of-Staff Subijakto
Air Force Chief-of-Staff Suryadarma
Chief Public Prosecutor Soeprapto
Chief of State Police Soekanto
Munir
Ahem Erningpradja
S. Sardjono
Sastrodikoro
Chairman
Vice-Chairman
Ex-officio
Ex-officio
Ex-officio
Ex-officio
Ex-officio
Ex-officio
Labor
Labor
Peasantry
Peasantry
2 G
Djuanda suggested this as late as October 1958; see
Pos Indonesia, Oct. 28, 1958.27
Sujono Atmo
Dahlan Ranumihardjo
Achmad i
Notohamiprodjo
Henk Ngantung
Armunanto
B. M. Diah
S. K. Trimurti
Rangkajo Rasuna Said
Sukarni
Sidik Kertapati
Achmad Chatib
K. Fatah Jasin
Ds. W. J. Rumambi
Sugriwa
Prof. Tjan Tjoe Som
E. F. Wens
Ir. Indra Tjaja
Abdullah
Nja' Diwan
Mr. Iwa Kusumasumantri
Kat j a sungkana
Lt. Col. Hasan Basri
Tjilik Riwut
Andi Mappanjuti
Prof. Ir. H. Johannes
Muhammad Djambek
Prof. Dr. Siwabessy
Muhamad Padang
Rumagesang
N. L. Suwages
Youth
Youth
Ex-armed revolutionaries
National businessmen
Artists
Journalists
Journalists
Women
Women
Generation of 1945
Generation of 1945
Islamic religious leaders
Islamic religious leaders
Protestants^'
Balinese Hindu religion
Citizens of Foreign Extraction
Citizens of Foreign Extraction
Sumatra
Sumatra
Sumatra
Java
Java
Kalimantan
Kalimantan
Sulawesi
Nusatenggara (Lesser Sundas)
Nusatenggara
Maluku
Maluku
West Irian
West Irian
This formal breakdown is misleading in several respects
For example, the functional group representatives also repre-
sented regions, so that more than forty percent of the Council
membership was Javanese—approximately in proportion to actual
population distribution. Also, despite the lack of a distinct
category of political representation—which was added in 1959—
only Masjumi was not in fact represented on the Council. Thus
the PNI and the PKI largely shared the labor, peasantry, youth,
and journalists categories. Ahem Erningpradja, for example,
was a member of the PNI, and B. M. Diah was close to the party;
Munir was a leader of the Communist labor front, SOBSI, while
Sujono Atmo and Henk Ngantung were in varying degrees sympa-
thetic to the PKI. NU monopolized the Islamic religious
27
It is not clear why a member was not appointed at
this time to represent the Catholics. One may have been chosen
later on. Possibly the Catholic Party decided against accept-
ing a seat in 1957; it is also possible that Soekarno chose to
ignore the Catholics in order to make his displeasure with
their party leadership clear.28
representation. Six or seven of these Council members with
political party connections would, when necessary, firmly de-
fend the interests of their parties against the encroachments
of Guided Democracy.
The political and institutional changes of 1957 were
only half-way measures. Martial law gave the army a legitimate
part in the governance of the country, but this was explicitly
a temporary arrangement supposedly dependent on Parliament for
any temporal extension of the state of siege. The political
parties and Parliament were greatly weakened, yet they continued
to exist and to play a significant role in the politics of
1957-1958. Soekarno's political role assumed a somewhat more
realistic institutional character, but he refused to make the
jump to the formal position of a strong and responsible execu-
tive. He often reminded his public that the 1950 Constitution
remained in effect, and this gave him no such position.
Soekarno also frequently said during this period that
Guided Democracy had not yet begun. The National Council and
the Kabinet Karya, he insisted, were only the "antennae" of
Guided Democracy. To those who assumed that the National
Council was created mainly to deal with the regional crisis, he
replied that that was not the case, that it was the forerunner
of a new political system.But he did not indicate what
would be the shape of the new system? he probably did not know
himself. In 1957 and early 1958 the further development of
Guided Democracy was postponed while the regional crisis held
everyone's attention.
The PRRI Rebellion
To call the regional crisis a simple confrontation
between Java and the outer islands is to do Indonesia an in-
justice, for few political conflicts in that country have had
the benefit of simplicity. There were numerous subsidiary
issues of political interest that made the regional problem
extremely complex. No attempt will be made here to analyze
them all, for other writers have already dealt with the crisis,
though its history has yet to be written in full.29 The
2 8
See Soekarno's speech of July 3, 1957, on the occa-
sion of the 30th anniversary of the PNI, in Ministry of Informa-
tion, Dewan Nasional, p. 111? Roeslan Abdulgani's article in
Far Eastern Survey, cited supra, note 13.
29
See especially Feith, Decline of Constitutional Demo-
cracy? Kahin, in Major Governments (2nd ed.)? Justus M. van der
Kroef, "Disunited Indonesia," Far Eastern Survey, XXVII, nos.
4 and 5 (April and May, 1958)? B. Η. M. Vlekke, Indonesia1s
Struggle (The Hague: Netherlands Institute of International
Affairs, 1959). A forthcoming study by J. A. C. Mackie should
be definitive on the politics of 1957.29
development of the rebellion will be discussed only briefly
in this section to call attention to a few matters important
for the rest of the study.
Djakarta's response to the regionalist movements was
complicated by various tendencies and counter-tendencies. For
example# to the extent that the PNI and NU represented Javanese
views they were hostile to the regionalists' claims, while
Masjumi was increasingly isolated by its identification with
the other side. But PNI-NU attitudes were checked slightly
by the views of their outer island branches. And the great
increase in electoral support shown by the PKI in the 1957
local elections (cf. Chapter III) provided an impetus for the
other major parties to move together, regardless of the regional
issue. Those elections, however, also had the effect of making
regionalist objections to the PKI and to its Javanese strong-
hold more extreme.
Within the leadership of the army, the cabinet, and the
National Council a strong inclination to be sympathetic to
outer island demands was balanced by anger at the indiscipline
of the regionalist councils, which threatened the unity of the
state. Among Javanese leaders, both civilian and military,
there was a conviction that the central government should not
go too far in compromising with regional interests. Thus
despite the strong desire of most army officers to heal the
breach within their corps, at the National Conference of
September 1957 Col. Suharto, panglima of Central Java, made it
clear that he regarded appeasement of the dissidents in Sumatra
and Sulawesi as perverse partiality. He pointed out that the
54 million people of Java would feel unjustly treated should
the Government relax its development efforts there in order to
permit the obstreperous regions to catch up.^O Furthermore,
both Soekarno and Nasution (a Sumatran) were personally under
challenge by the regionalists. Distrusting Soekarno1s dealings
with the PKI, the regionalists wanted the President to give
Hatta a greater role in government· and they opposed Nasution
for his apparent attachment to Soekarno and for having forsaken
both the regions and the regional officers.
In mid-1957, the National Council and army leaders in
Djakarta set about trying to deal with grievances common to
Java and the outer islands. The martial law administration
undertook a massive anti-corruption campaign, which, as it
turned out, claimed as victims several PNI and NU leaders,
among others. In August, Soekarno inaugurated a New Jiife Move-
ment (Gerakan Hidup Baru) proposed by the National Council—
but with a precedent of the same name, interestingly, during
the Japanese occupation—to promote austerity, to restore
■^"Diktat Musjawarah Nasional" (Minutes of the National
Conference; mimeographed), p. 17.30
national morale, and generally to revitalize the state. It was
completely unsuccessful and soon became the butt of elite jokes
in the capital.3^ At the same time, the Djuanda Cabinet at-
tempted to deal directly with the regionalist councils. Central
government delegations were sent to the outer islands to talk
with regional leaders and to deliver funds,· the term "regional
development" was much bandied about. Along with the new decen-
tralization law, approved in late 1956, additional financial
and administrative measures were drafted which it was hoped
would cool regional tempers. A limited attempt was made to
satisfy the demands of the regions for more of the foreign ex-
change earned by their exports.
The Government was restricted in these efforts, however,
by general economic conditions—e.g., inflation, which became
more rapid with the huge increase in deficit financing—and by
its own depleted foreign exchange reserves. By May 1957 there
was in fact a deficit in foreign exchange holdings amounting
to 12 million rupiah, approximately $1,000,000 at the then
legal rate of Rp. 11.40 to the dollar. Finance Minister Sutikno
Slamet told Parliament in September that the state had been
approaching bankruptcy earlier in the year.32 To encourage
exports the cabinet established a new export certificate system
in June which permitted exporters to sell certificates (Bukti
Expor, B.E.) representing their total exchange earnings to
importers at the going free market rate. A tax of 20 percent
on these sales was paid by the exporters.33 This helped to
improve the foreign exchange situation somewhat, but it did
not eliminate completely the favorable exchange differential
for importers against which the exporting areas were protesting?
and it did not halt the large scale regional barter activities
which had contributed to the serious exchange problems of the
Government in the first place. Nor did it stop inflation? on
the contrary, it seemed to encourage it. By August and Septem-
ber there were regional demands that the B.E. system be abol-
ished, most generally on the grounds that it had caused higher
prices. The market rate of the B.E. certificates, which became
a current economic indicator, soared so high that in early 1958
Djuanda was compelled to freeze the rate.
31
On the New Life Movement, see Justus M. van der
Kroef, "Indonesia's 'New Life Movement,'" Eastern World, Nov.
1957, pp. 16-19.
32IP/1957, pp. 709-710, session of Sept. 18, 1957.
33
See Douglas Paauw, "The High Cost of Political In-
stability in Indonesia," in Vlekke, Indonesia1s Struggle. For
further comment on the economic background, see Bank Indonesia,
Report, 1957-1958.31
In mid-August 1957 the National Council took up the
question of "normalizing the situation of the Republic." De-
spairing of finding a solution through normal government chan-
nels, the Council proposed that all regional and military
problems should be discussed in a great National Conference
(Musjawarah Nasional) of leaders from all the major islands.
Djuanda organized the conference, which was held on September
10th-14th. It was followed in November by a National Conference
on Development (Musjawarah Nasional Pembangunan) devoted to
discussions of the economic development of all areas of the
country· this second meeting was of much less significance
than the first.’'*
The National Conference of September covered a broad
range of difficult issues? restoration of the Soekarno-Hatta
Dwitunggal, military disunity, the distribution of political
and economic power throughout the country, economic develop-
ment, and national morale. For a brief period the conference
seemed to achieve a sense of unity. Lt. Col. Husein, leader
of the dissident Buffalo Council (Dewan Banteng) in Central
Sumatra, invited the delegates to make a pilgrimage en masse
to the grave of the first commander of the national army, Gen.
Sudirman, in Jogjakarta, capital of the revolutionary republic.
At the end of the conference, Soekarno and Hatta signed a joint
statement in praise of the national revolution and the
Pant jasila—Soekarno1s five-point statement of national ideo-
logy. 35
It soon became apparent, however, that very little had
actually been accomplished. The conference had appointed a
34
The November conference produced massive proposals
and comments on national development. See Risalah Musjawarah
Nasional Pembangunan (Proceedings of the National Conference
on Development· four vols., mimeographed). On the National
Conference of September, see also Djuanda's report to Parlia-
ment, IP/1957, pp. 715 ff, session of Sept. 20, 1957.
35
Soekarno delivered the Pantjasila speech, which will
be mentioned often, in an address to the Preparatory Committee
for Indonesian Independence in mid-1945. See Soekarno, Lahlrnja
Pantjasila (The Birth of the Pantjasila? Djakarta: Ministry of
Information), the original speech. It consists of these five
principles:	Belief in God, Nationalism, Internationalism (or
humanitarianism), Sovereignty of the People, and Social Justice.
These translations do not do justice to the original Indonesian
terms, by which Soekarno, and others, meant—especially in the
cases of the third and fourth items—something rather different
from the ideas Americans or Europeans might ascribe to them.
It is unnecessary, however, to discuss that matter fully here.
During the revolution and after, the Pantjasila became the sym-
bol of parties and groups opposed to the ideas of ideological
Islam.32
committee to work out a practicable new relationship between
Soekarno and Hatta, whose joint declaration, mentioned above,
had been a general one, avoiding anything of substantive import
ance. Parliament also took one of its few initiatives in form-
ing a Committee of Nine to help restore the Dwitunggal, but
this did not add much to the effort. Neither Soekarno nor
Hatta was prepared to come to the other's terms. If he could
avoid it, Soekarno was not going to give Hatta a determining
say in the Government· and Hatta had already decided, as he
often said, to "let Soekarno try to run things his way." Soon
after the National Conference ended Hatta made a trip to China,
and not long after he returned Soekarno also went abroad, so
that there was little opportunity to bring them together. Only
when the rebellion finally broke out did the two leaders hold
talks, but they had no apparent result.
The National Conference established another and more
important committee—the Committee of Seven—to deal with the
army's problems. More successful than the Soekarno-Hatta com-
mittee, the Committee of Seven was able to produce a set of
proposals that, had they been implemented, might have contrib-
uted to settlement of several outstanding problems of military
organization and army politics. In November the committee
agreed on a formula under which the officers who had been in-
volved in the various "affairs" since 1956 would be given an
amnesty? those officers who had broken discipline would be
asked to choose between army life and discipline on the one
hand and civilian politics on the other. On the problem of
dissatisfaction with the existing army leadership, a Military
Council was to be created to which several regionalist officers
would be appointed· this council would also discuss further
settlement of difficulties besetting the army.^u Although this
solution was bound to be met with some discontent on all sides,
it was in many ways a good compromise. But from the beginning
the Committee of Seven suffered from a basic disability in the
eyes of regionalist officers? though it included the Sultan
of Jogjakarta—a national figure of immense prestige and a
former Minister of Defense (at the time of the October 17th
Affair) whom regionalist army leaders found sympathetic—it
also included Nasution, whose removal from office was for outer
island dissident officers an essential part of any solution to
36
See Nasution's lecture of Feb. 22, 1958, to army
officers in Djakarta, on the events leading up to the rebellion,
in Madjalah Angkatan Darat (Army Journal), VIII, no. 1 (Jan.
1958), 6-9? Pesat (PNI-leaning weekly), XIV, no. 9 (March 1,
1958), 16. For further comments on the Committee of Seven, see
Yudhagama (Armed Forces journal), VIII, no. 77 (Dec. 1957),
3232-3234? Siasat (PSI-leaning weekly), Sept. 25, 1957, where
it was pointed out that Soekarno's and Hatta's absence would
made the Committee of Seven's progress difficult.33
37
army disunity. For his part, Nasution, who might have been
seriously disadvantaged if the committee's proposals had been
carried out, took the first opportunity to declare them worth-
less.
The opportunity came soon, for whatever the National
Conference had accomplished was swept aside by a wave of radi-
calism in late November and early December that gave Djakarta
the political initiative. On November 30th, while Soekarno
was visiting his children's school, a small team of assassins,
apparently acting under the banner of Islam, threw several
grenades at him. A number of adults and children were killed
or injured, but Soekarno escaped this the first major attempt
on his life. Col. Zulkifli Lubis was accused of having master-
minded the "Tjikini Affair," though he denied it from his place
of hiding, and some of the blame rubbed off on to the Sumatran
regionalist officers with whom he had become associated.38
One immediate result was that the Committee of Seven was brushed
aside. Nasution said a month later that after Tjikini he had
decided there could be no coming to terms with assassins.39
The pace of events quickened after the Tjikini Affair.
Within a few days there came another major event in Indonesian
political and economic history, this time in the context of
the campaign to wrest West Irian from the grip of the Dutch,
who had retained this one last vestige of their former eastern
empire after the transfer of sovereignty. The West Irian cam-
paign was peculiarly Soekarno's? he had always regarded it as
a unifying nationalist cause, and in times of stress, as in
1957, he tended to put increasing emphasis upon it. In late
1957 the Irian question was once again before the United
Nations. Soekarno warned that should the General Assembly vote
go against Indonesia, "other means" would be used to force the
Netherlands to give up the territory. But on November 29th
the motion to support Indonesia's request that the Dutch nego-
tiate the dispute failed to win a two-thirds majority in the
Assembly. On December 3rd, three days after the Tjikini Affair,
PNI and PKI labor unions—the PNI federation (KBKI) took the
lead—began to take over the plants and offices of every signi-
ficant Dutch company in the country. Two days later the Minis-
try of Justice issued an order expelling some 46,000 Dutch
nationals.
37
The members of the Committee of Seven were Soekarno,
Hatta, Djuanda, Leimena, the Sultan of Jogjakarta, Azis Saleh,
and Nasution.
38
On the Tjikini Affair, see the book compiled from the
trial of those involved and from other materials by the daily
newspaper Pemuda, entitled Perlstiwa Tjikini (The Tjikini Affair;
Djakarta:	Usaha Penerbit Pemuda, 1958).
39
Madjalah Angkatan Darat (Jan. 1958), p. 7.34
The take-overs were begun with Soekarno's encouragement/
and a few leaders of the recently established Youth-Military
Cooperation Body (of which further mention will be made later)
were involved in the action.40 But if the take-overs were not
entirely spontaneous/ nor were they fully planned. Neither
Djuanda, who did not agree with the take-overs# nor Nasution
was entirely aware of what was happening# and policy during the
tense days of early December was largely ad hoc# with the
presidential palace# the cabinet, labor unions, and youth groups
all working more or less at cross purposes. Djuanda and other
members of the cabinet warned against ruinous "excesses," and
the confusion was brought under control only with difficulty.
With Djuanda1s assent, Nasution and the army stepped in to take
charge of the Dutch firms.41 Thereafter the unions were ordered
to desist from their operations. The army remained in control
of the enterprises until late 1958. They were not nationalized
until a year after the take-overs. Initially the Government
was uncertain what action it should take in this connection,
but there was no intention of restoring the firms to their
original owners· Dutch control over the Indonesian economy was
finally broken, however traumatically. Funds for compensation
were later set aside in London pending settlement of the West
Irian dispute, but they were consumed in a financial crisis
before the Dutch agreed, in 1962, to surrender the territory.
From any point of view the immediate effects of the
take-overs were troublesome. The economy, already strained,
suffered from the sudden departure of Dutch personnel and the
lack of any adequate replacement for them. Political tension
increased. Masjumi, the PSI, the Christian parties, and allied
groups attacked the take-overs as nonsensical and uselessly
destructive radicalism. Hatta publicly disagreed with the
Government's policy, forcing Djuanda—who respected Hatta—into
an angry defense of the position into which the cabinet had
been pushed. Soekarno, the PKI, and the PNI defended the action
as necessary to Indonesia's existence as an independent nation
in control of its own economy. It was also justified as a blow
against the memory of Dutch colonial oppression, and most of
the politically aware public probably appreciated it in that
light. Djakarta became exceedingly tense as a result of this
issue and the regional crisis in December. Masjumi leaders who
40
Some time afterwards, Soekarno told Louis Fischer that
he had ordered the seizure of the Dutch firms. Fischer, The
Story of Indonesia (New York: Harper, 1959), p. 300. See also
Feith, Decline of Constitutional Democracy, pp. 583-585.
41
For documents relating to the take-overs and the role
played by Nasution's headquarters, see the appendices to Djuanda1s
statement to Parliament on extension of martial law in late
1958, Rlsalah Perundingan Dewan Perwakilan Rakjat (Parliamentary
Debates), pp. 5145-5151, session of Dec. 1958.35
opposed the take-overs—particularly Mohammad Natsir, general
chairman of the party, and Sjafruddin Prawiranegara, head of
the (circulation) Bank Indonesia—found themselves subjected
to personal harassment by roaming youth groups who regarded
themselves as acting for Soekarno. Natsir, Sjafruddin, and
Burhanuddin Harahap, a former Prime Minister, finally left
Djakarta for Padang, capital of the regionalist movement in
Sumatraj there they soon joined the rebellion against Djakarta.
The events of December drove regionalist leaders even
further from the central government. In part this was because
the KPM, the Dutch inter-island shipping and sea transport
line, had been among the enterprises seized in Djakarta. KPM
succeeded in keeping its ships away from Indonesian waters in
December, leaving the archipelago without effective sea com-
munications. Regionalist leaders were encouraged to believe
that Djakarta would consequently be even less capable of exert-
ing its authority in the outer islands.
At the same time, United States sympathy for the
regionalist cause was being expressed more openly, and American
aid had already begun to flow into West Sumatra. There is evi-
dence that several U.S. intelligence agents were present in
Sumatra by the beginning of 1958.42	a result of American
interest and encouragement—and in the hope, no doubt, that
more assistance would be forthcoming—the anti-Communist aspect
of the regionalist movement became much more prominent in late
1957 and early 1958. Fuel was added to the regionalist fire
at the end of 1957 when rumors spread that a $100 million loan
negotiated between Djakarta and Moscow would be used to purchase
arms. Washington had already made it clear—partly because of
Dutch anxiety over West Irian—that it would not supply arms to
Djakarta.
As tension mounted in late 1957, Soekarno was scheduled
to go abroad on December 25th for an Asian trip. Opposition
to his leaving during the crisis induced him to postpone his
departure for a short while. But he left nevertheless on
January 6th, not to return until February 16th, the day after
Padang's ultimatum to Djakarta expired.
42
See the account of the rebellion by James Mossman,
Rebels in Paradise: Indonesia's Civil War (Londons Jonathan
Cape, 1961). Several American journalists in Sumatra during
early 1958 were aware of the presence of U.S. military agents,
but—according to their own admissions in private conversations
—were reluctant, partly for patriotic reasons, to report this
to their newspapers. In 1961, after the rebels finally surren-
dered, it was indicated to me by one rebel military leader that
American military advisors had been in Padang for some time
before the rebellion broke out.36
Regionalist leaders had themselves been moving away
from a peaceful solution of the crisis since early September,
even before the National Conference. They had become accus-
tomed to opposing Djakarta. Their ultimate objectives with
respect to the central government were never perfectly clear,
and soon the more negative aspects of their opposition became
as compelling as their original—and often vaguely formulated—
demands for a fairer political and economic balance between
Java and the outer islands, for more attention to regional
needs, for better and more honest government, and so on. Thus
the longer barter trade with Singapore, Hongkong, and elsewhere
continued, the more it whetted the appetites of the regionalists
for both capital and luxury goods, and the more reluctant they
were to submit to any restrictions on their trade. Moreover,
and more important, by mid-1957 those military commanders who
had committed themselves to the regional cause—Simbolon,
Husein, Sumual, and Lubis, among others—could not expect their
positions to improve if the regionalist movement came to nothing
They would probably not be allowed to achieve again the power
they enjoyed while the regions were running their own affairs?
in all likelihood they would be transferred to uninfluential
staff posts. Col. Simbolon had already lost his command in
North Sumatra and could not hope to rise again in the central
government's army. Among the civilians in the regionalist
movement, Prof. Sumitro Djojohadikusumo—a PSI leader and a
former Minister of Finance—had fled Djakarta under charges of
corruption? he too had little to gain from a reasonable com-
promise with the central government. Finally, the hopes
regionalist leaders had of forcing Djakarta into complete sur-
render to all their demands were encouraged by American hostil-
ity to Soekarno's willingness to cooperate with the PKI.
On September 7th and 8th, Lt. Cols. Husein, Sumual,
Barlian—panglimas of Central Sumatra, North Sulawesi, and
South Sumatra respectively—Simbolon, Lubis, and several others
met in Palembang, provincial capital of South Sumatra, to dis-
cuss the position of the regionalist movement. Skeptical that
the National Conference would achieve anything, they agreed on
six demands: 1) the Soekarno-Hatta Dwitunggal must be restored?
2) the existing leadership of the army must be replaced? 3) the
regions must be given extensive autonomy? 4) a senate must be
formed? 5) there must be a general rejuvenation of the govern-
ment and of the nation? 6) "internationally oriented Communism"
must be forbidden. Following the National Conference, these
demands were reduced to three essential points: 1) the Dwitung-
gal must be restored in such a way that Soekarno's "pro-Commun-
ist" activities would be restricted (i.e., by making Hatta
Prime Minister)? 2) Nasution and his staff must be replaced?
and 3) Communism must be outlawed. The Sumatran officers also
agreed at this time to set up a common Sumatran command, with
headquarters in Padang, and to establish closer political and
economic relations with the Permesta (Sulawesi) area in order37
to strengthen the regionalist movement as a whole. All this
was set down in a signed document, the Palembang Charter.4 3
The regionalist officers felt that Soekarno had evaded
their demands at the National Conference, though they had ap-
parently expected as much from the beginning. Hatta's trip to
China made them doubt that a real effort would be made to
restore the Dwitunggal. Further, the National Conference had
not discussed the possibility of a senate. Nor had anything
been done about the Communist issue. And the regional officers
were also frustrated by Nasution's membership of the Committee
of Seven.
On October 5th the officers met again in Sumatra to
draw up another document emphasizing the failure of the National
Conference to satisfy regional demands.44 They decided upon a
new policy, one major element of which was that the Dwitunggal
"mythos" should be dropped—that the regionalists should no
longer depend upon restoration of the Dwitunggal to cure all
the country's ills. It was agreed, however—indicating how
powerful the "mythos" was—that this decision should not be
made public, in part to avoid the possibility that Djakarta
leaders might use it against the regionalists. The regional
officers also agreed that henceforth they would work for a
general election to choose a new President of Indonesia. Nor
was this made public, however, presumably because the power of
Soekarno as a symbol of national unity was too great to risk
an attack on him until the time was ripe. The officers gave
increased emphasis to other symbols of national unity: the
Pantjasila, the Proclamation of Independence, and the revolu-
tion itself, which formed a special bond for all army officers.
The October 5th document also voiced the intention of
regionalist officers to form a counter-governmentj
As long as the PKI continues to exist in the Center (Java)
[sic], the central government cannot be recognized as the
central government of the Republic of Indonesia. ... From
43
The documentary material here is taken from a publi-
cation by the Ministry of Information, Perlstiwa Sumatera Barat
(The West Sumatra Affair), Vol. I, I960? see pp. 52, 58. The
documents, according to official sources, fell into army hands
in a raid on regionalist headquarters in 1958. They check with
other sources, particularly pieces written abroad by Sumitro
Djojohadikusumo.
44
There was an earlier meeting in Padang on September
21 and 22 between Husein, Barlian, and others to review the
National Conference results. Soon afterwards Husein and Barlian
flew to Makassar to meet with Sumual, who agreed with their
assessments.
45
Peristiwa Sumatera Barat, pp. 55-58.38
now on efforts must be made in the direction of forming an
Emergency Central Government of the Republic of Indonesia/
situated outside of Java.46
The Sumatran common command was eventually to be expanded into
an inter-regional command. Propaganda was to be intensified,
and Communism made the basic issue in order to attract the
attention of all Indonesians (and, it must be added, of numer-
ous Amer i can s).
Rumors were current in December and January that the
dissident Sumatrans were about to establish an independent state
In mid-January news reached Djakarta of an important gathering
of regionalist leaders in Sungai Dareh, a small town east of
Padang in the Djambi area. The meeting was attended by Husein,
Simbolon, Lubis, Dahlan Djambek—a respected Sumatran officer—
and the civilian leaders Natsir, Sjafruddin, and Sumitro Djojo-
hadikusumo. They discussed the necessity of issuing a final
challenge to Djakarta.47
Politicians in the capital actively sought to avoid the
disaster that threatened. Masjumi leaders who had not gone to
Padang and who were horrified at the thought of open rebellion
went to Sumatra in an attempt to dissuade the regionalists. A
PSI mission did the same, but with no more success. The cabinet
also made numerous efforts, as did those close to the Government
with family or other connections in Sumatra and Sulawesi.
Nasution, in the meantime, took steps to try and prevent rebel-
lion or, if it broke out, to localize it. On January 23rd he
flew to Sumatra, where he spent three days sounding out the
military commanders of Tapanuli (North Sumatra), East Sumatra,
Atjeh, and Riau. He was assured of their loyalty—or at least
their neutrality.4θ He had visited Sulawesi earlier on the
same mission.
Following several days of public meetings and demon-
strations in Padang, the regionalist leaders on February 10th
issued their ultimatum to Djakarta. Five demands were made?
1) that within five days the Djuanda Cabinet resign? 2) that
46
Ibid., p. 61. On January 6, 1958, a raid in Djakarta
resulted in the capture of a document alleged to have been
written by Zulkifli Lubis for the benefit of his anti-Djakarta
associates. Dated June 9, 1957, it proposed the establishment
of an independent countergovernment. See Djuanda1s statement
to Parliament, in IP/1958, p. 83, session of Feb. 3, 1958.
4?see the comments by Nasution on Feb. 22, 1958, in
Pesat, XIV, no. 10 (March 8, 1958), 6.
4ft
Ibid. See also Djuanda's statement to Parliament on
Feb. 3, IP/1958, p. 83.39
Hatta and Hamengku Buwono (the Sultan of Jogjakarta) be ap-
pointed formateurs of a new cabinet; 3) that Hatta and Hamengku
Buwono accept this charge; 4) that Parliament permit Hatta and
Hamengku Buwono to form a national business cabinet with a
mandate to work until the next general elections; and 5) that
Soekarno resume a "constitutional position" and give full
opportunity and his assistance to the new national business
cabinet.The cabinet rejected the ultimatum a day after it
was received. Husein, Lubis, Djambek, and Simbolon were dis-
honorably discharged from the army, and on February 12th Nasu-
tion ordered their arrest for "attempting to assassinate the
President and attempting to change the state and government by
violence.When the ultimatum expired on the 15th, the
Padang group announced the formation of a Revolutionary Govern-
ment of the Republic of Indonesia (Pemerintah Revolusioner
Republik Indonesia, PRRI). Sjafruddin was appointed Prime
Minister and fifteen ministries were established.51 on
February 17th, Lt. Col. Somba in Sulawesi declared for the
PRRI and severed all relations with Djakarta. The rebellion
had begun.
49
Peristiwa Sumatera Barat, pp. 41-46. The ultimatum
has been preceded on January 29 by a radio message containing
nearly the same demands which the Radio Republik Indonesia was
requested to give to Acting President Sartono and to Djuanda.
The message was sent by the Badan Aksi Rakjat Sumatera Tengah
(BARST, Central Sumatran People's Action Body) a front for the
regionalist officers in Padang. See Djuanda's statement to
Parliament on Feb. 3, IP/1958, p. 84.
50
Of all the officers who joined the rebellion, only
one was not dishonorably discharged: Col. Alex Kawilarang,
who joined the rebellion in Sulawesi in May, travelling there
from Washington, where he had been military attache. Army
leaders may have hoped Kawilarang—a highly respected officer
who appears not to have been in full agreement with the aims
of the PRRI—could be induced to stop fighting and bring the
rebellion in Sulawesi to an end.
51
Those included in the cabinet were Sjafruddin, Sim-
bolon, Djambek, Burhanuddin, Moh. Sjafei, Warouw, Said, Saladin
Sarumpaet, Muchtar Lintang, Saleh Lahade, A. Hani Usman, and
Sumitro Djojohadikusumo. The last, it might be mentioned, was
the first of the civilian leaders to flee Djakarta, in May
1957, where corruption charges were being brought against him.
Mr. Assaat had been president of the Republic of Indonesia for
a short time before the United (Federal) States of Indonesia—
of which Soekarno was president—became the unitary state in
1950. He was later appointed vice-premier of the PRRI. See
Peristiwa Sumatera Barat, p. 50.40
Soekarno returned to Djakarta from his trip abroad on
February 16th, and the next week was taken up in deliberations.
Several groups outside the Government were opposed to using
military force against Sumatra and Sulawesi; Masjumi, and psi,
the Christian parties, and Hatta deprecated Padang's action
but nevertheless wanted compromise and no bloodshed. Possibly
a few members of the cabinet took the same view. On the other
side were those—including Soekarno, Nasution, and Djuanda,
many in the PNI, and certainly the PKI—who insisted that the
line must be drawn at rebellion. They argued that the Govern-
ment could not permit rebellion to go unpunished without admit-
ting its own failure as a government and Indonesia's failure
as a state. The ultimate issue of civil war having been raised
and compounded by the apparent threat of possible intervention
by the United States—there was really no choice but to meet
it squarely.
A further effort at conciliation was made nevertheless,
partly, it seems, because of Soekarno's own uncertainty. On
February 19th he went to see Hatta at the latter's home, and
the two men met again on March 3rd, but without result. It is
unlikely that they could have found much to agree upon at that
stage. On February 21st, Soekarno resumed his office from
acting President Sartono (Speaker of Parliament) and praised
the cabinet's action thus far against the PRRI. Djuanda added
that Government measures against the rebels would be confined
mainly to an economic blockade, though perhaps shooting could
not be avoided altogether. Yet that same day and the following
day—possibly without Djuanda's knowledge or concurrence—the
air force bombed a bridge in West Sumatra and rebel-controlled
radio stations in Padang, Bukittinggi (PRRI headquarters), and
Menado (North Sulawesi).
The major military campaigns in Sumatra were over
within two months. Nasution had laid his military plans early.
On March 12th, the army quickly occupied Pakanbaru, a strategic
area both because the Caltex oil fields were located there and
because it offered a position from which to control Medan.
Major Nainggolan took over Medan for the PRRI for one day, on
March 16th, but government forces bombed the city radio station
and on the 17th Mainggolan and his troops fled to Tapanuli and
Atjeh, where they were able to take refuge among a few friendly
groups. In mid-April, Padang itself was taken with virtually
no resistance from the PRRI defenses.52 Thereafter the Govern-
ment army turned its primary attention to Sulawesi, which was
considered a much tougher military nut to crack. In mid-May,
Gorontalo was brought under control; and Menado fell in late
June. The rebellion was by no means over, but the major rebel
cities had been captured; the PRRI retired to the jungles to
carry on as guerillas.
52
See Mossman's account of the invasion of Padang in
Rebels in Paradise.41
So rapid were the government's military successes,
particularly in Sumatra, that it is difficult to understand
why rebel leaders decided on open revolt when they were obvi-
ously unprepared to carry it through. There are probably
several contributory explanations. One is that other regions
were expected to join the rebellion immediately. But the PRRI
lost its most important ally when Lt. Col. Barlian failed to
bring South Sumatra into the rebel campy pressure from many
primarily Javanese groups—particularly organized oil workers--
resident in his area and the fear of a major attack from nearby
Java apparently persuaded Barlian to take no risk. Most of
North Sumatra, South Sulawesi, and Kalimantan (except for
pockets) also held fast with the Government, partly because of
the effect of internal rivalries and partly because of their
unwillingness to act without prior assurance of success.
Atjehnese neutrality followed from the same reasons and in
addition the fear of a renewed outbreak of violence between
fanatic Moslems and traditional aristocratic groups; but there
was some sympathy there for the rebellion against the govern-
ment, and within two years violent hostilities did resume in
Atjeh when the Darul Islam accepted arms from the PRRI in ex-
change for an alliance. But by 1958 the rebellion was effec-
tively contained within the relatively manageable areas of
Central Sumatra, South Tapanuli, and Djambi in Sumatra, and
Central and North Sulawesi.
Rebel leaders had also hoped to cripple Djakarta finan-
cially by cutting off its foreign exchange. They tried to
stop the foreign oil concerns in South Sumatra from making
payments to the Government, but without success; Djakarta
assured Caltex, Stanvac, and Shell of protection and the oppor-
tunity to keep their wells flowing. Djafruddin attempted to
induce the United States Government to freeze Indonesian ac-
counts, but this effort also failed. PRRI leaders continued to
believe nevertheless that Djakarta would eventually be strangled
by the economic consequences of the rebellion. In this too
they were wrong.
The PRRI had also expected substantial assistance from
the United States and SEATO. American arms and radio equipment
had been dropped near Padang and other areas before Padang
fell, and afterwards some aid came in from Taiwan to Sumatra
and Sulawesi. American-flown airplanes based at Clark Field
supplied Sulawesi and bombed government targets in the east.
In May a B-26 piloted by an American, Allan Pope, was shot down
in the vicinity of Ambon, seriously but only temporarily hin-
dering efforts then being made to improve Indonesian-American
relations; Pope was captured and brought to Djakarta for even-
tual trial. Britain also aided the rebels, and South Korea,
Taiwan, the Philippines, and Malaya expressed sympathy for the
rebel cause and hostility to the central government, usually
on anti-Communist grounds. Relations were particularly strained42
between Djakarta and Malaya and Singapore, whence the rebels
smuggled arms, found contacts, and enjoyed enough sympathy to
allow them to travel freely.
During the early months of the rebellion, the foreign
intervention issue was the most volatile one in Indonesia, and
anti-American sentiment in Djakarta was at fever pitch. The
decision to occupy Pakanbaru was made in part out of fear that
the United States would send marines to the area to protect
American oil company personnel—a proposal actually made by
Washington and rejected immediately by Djakarta. For weeks
before the invasion of Padang it was unclear what Washington
would do? the fact that several ships of the Seventh Fleet, in-
cluding a carrier, were in the area caused Djakarta great anxi-
ety, though the ships were not finally used to intervene. It
appears that after the fall of Padang the State Department
decided the PRRI could hot succeed and Washington should there-
fore quickly attempt to restore amity with Djakarta. A new
ambassador, Howard Jones, had been appointed earlier to replace
Ambassador Allison—who had been reassigned in 1957 following
a serious disagreement with the State Department's policy
towards Indonesia—and Jones began his attempt in late April
and May of 1958 to improve relations between the two states.
At that time Soekarno, Djuanda, and Nasution were also anxious
to ease the strain with Washington and to eliminate the threat
of intervention, so that Jones' effort met with some success.
On May 20th, Secretary of State Dulles made a statement con-
demning intervention of any sort in behalf of the rebels, and
an agreement was later concluded to sell American small arms
to Djakarta.53 Soekarno and Jones had lunch together to sym-
bolize the rapprochement. But Indonesian suspicions of U.S.
intentions never ceased.
The PRRI rebellion continued until mid-1961. It caused
considerable economic strain for the country, and though it
never threatened to become unmanageable yet it constantly tied
down several battalions from each of the three Javanese divi-
sions. 54 Although casualties were higher than sometimes sup-
posed, there was little wanton destruction in areas from which
the rebels originated and took sustenance. Officers on both
53
See Djuanda's statement to Parliament on July 4, 1958,
IP/1958, pp. 728-741, in which considerable space is devoted
to the foreign intervention threat earlier in the year.
54
Most of the fighting in rebel areas was done by the
Javanese divisions, because they were better trained and equipped,
because their loyalty was certain, and because this would pre-
vent intra-island ethnic rivalries from flaring up. Siliwangi
division (West Java) troops were sent to North Sumatra, Dipone-
goro (Central Java) troops to West Sumatra, and Brawidjaja
(East Java) troops to Sulawesi.43
sides knew and often respected one another, and they were not
entirely out of sympathy with one another's ideas. Negotiations
between the rebels and army leaders began several times during
the next two and a half years. But until 1961 they were un-
successful, despite the desire of Nasution and other loyal
officers to bring their former colleagues out of the woods,
for the rebellion was also a significant issue in Djakarta
politics. The PKI particularly opposed any hint of a compro-
mise, and so did Soekarno, for fear that it might greatly
strengthen the leadership of the army and favor the demands of
the regionalists.
As for the PRRI, at the end of 1959 it changed itself
into the RPI—Republik Persatuan Indonesia, United Republic
of Indonesia, a "federal" arrangement—signifying among other
things its alliance with Darul Islam. Rebel leaders themselves,
however, soon began to divide into ideological, religious, eth-
nic, and personal factions—not to mention a civil vs. military
split—indicating that the PRRI suffered from the same splinter-
ing tendencies as the rest of the Indonesian elite.55
For as long as it continued, the rebellion influenced
the course of national politics. Its immediate consequences
for the political structure and the balance of political forces
in Indonesia were crucial to the development of Guided Democracy
These consequences will be discussed in a later chapter.
55
See Herbert Feith and Daniel S. Lev, "The End of the
Indonesian Rebellion," Pacific Affairs, XXXVI, no. 1 (Spring
1963).44
CHAPTER II
GUIDED DEMOCRACYs SOEKARNO AND THE ARMY
The extent of Guided Democracy's challenge to the par-
liamentary order was not clear at first, for the central issues
of 1957 did not concern the political system per se. The crise
de regime of that difficult year revolved around the question
of who should exercise power in whatever government existed.
In the bewildering maze of mutually reinforcing conflicts be-
tween Java and the outer islands, between the PNI-PKI and
Masjumi, between Soekarno and Hatta, and between Nasution and
the dissident colonels, the form of government was a secondary
issue. Had it been primary, the battle lines would have formed
mainly around Soekarno and army leaders on the one hand and
the political parties on the other—which is approximately what
happened after the rebellion had decisively settled the other
major questions posed in 1957. But before the rebellion the
two camps consisted of Soekarno, the PNI, the PKI, and NU—
though the last much preferred the middle of the road—against
Masjumi, the PSI, the Christian parties, and allied groups, with
the army uncertainly divided between the two.
Inevitably there were major contradictions between the
anti-party, regional, and inter-party conflict themes in 1957.
The development of Guided Democracy, initially held in abeyance,
obviously acquired some of its flavor from the other ongoing
struggles. Thus the opposition of Masjumi and its allies to
Guided Democracy must be seen at first primarily in terms of
their hostility to Soekarno and his supporters. It has already
been suggested that had Masjumi and the NU accepted a gotong-
rojong cabinet in early 1957, this might have left the parties
in a better position to defend the party system than they were
after a cabinet had been appointed by Soekarno. D. N. Aidit,
chairman of the PKI, later claimed that his party did all it
could to ensure a party-based cabinet, indicating his awareness
of the issues involved.But the implacable opposition of
Masjumi and NU to the PKI blinded them to the necessity of de-
fending party control of the Government. For them—and also for
a growing number of PNI followers—the PKI itself became the
central issue of politics. From another point of view, the
support which the PNI, the PKI, and, to a lesser degree, NU
initially gave to Guided Democracy—once Soekarno had dropped
the proposal that parties be abolished—was ambiguous. Such
public support actually represented approval of Djakarta's side
in the regional crisis and, to some extent, of the Kabinet
Karya and Soekarno himself, but certainly not of the anti-
^Harian Rakjat (PKI daily), April 8, 1957.45
parliamentarism inherent in the ideas of Guided Democracy. In
1958, the PNI, the PKI, and NU were to be without any defense
against the charge of hypocrisy when the National Council began
to fill in the details of Guided Democracy, for then they had
no choice but to oppose it. Similarly, the PKI approved the
proclamation of martial law in 1957, despite the anti-Communist
sentiments of the officer corps, because this was regarded as
a Djakarta initiative against the regional councils—whose
destruction had top priority with the PKI—and because it would
bring the two main opponents of the PKI, the army and Masjumi,
into conflict.
The saga of Guided Democracy thus embraced several
distinct but related battlesr its development must be seen in
the light of kaleidoscopically changing conflict situations,
in which assessments of political interest necessarily influ-
ence relative positions on other battle fronts—particularly
in the confrontation between the parties and anti-party forces.
The latter, Soekarno and the officer corps, also suffered in-
creasingly divisive tensions which were only partly submerged
in 1957 by their common cause against the regional challenge.
This is not to say that there were no differences in
the commitments of men to democratic or authoritarian institu-
tions, though the differences were not so great as they are
sometimes portrayed as being. The question was much less one
of commitment, however, than of political interest—admitting
that the distinction between political interest and political
commitment is not always easily drawn. Whether or not the PNI,
the PKI, and NU were dedicated to democratic institutions--
and there is little evidence that they were—they unquestion-
ably had an interest in maintaining parliamentary institutions.
As parties, they had nothing to gain from a party-less state,
nor from one in which parties enjoyed no authority. Beyond the
basic issues of conflict in 1957, therefore, most political
parties--except those, like Murba, which had fully allied
themselves with Soekarno—responded alike to threats against
the party system. But they were unable to respond together.
Inter-party conflict will be discussed in the next
chapter. This chapter is concerned with the anti-party allies
and their role in developing Guided Democracy during 1957 and
1958. The discussion will touch, though in no great detail,
on the appeals of Guided Democracy which Soekarno articulated
and on the growing political role of the army.
Harian Rakjat, March 15, 1957.
246
Soekarno and Guided Democracy
The political changes begun in 1957 were made possible
by the power of the army; but it was Soekarno who provided the
symbols which made Guided Democracy seem a reasonable and
necessary alternative to the parliamentary system. He was
himself a major national symbol, particularly for the Javanese,
towards whom men would look to identify the state--or if not
the state, the political community. He possessed two great
advantages over his opponents—his effective political person-
ality and his well known oratorical ability. To these, the
presidency added the authority not only of office but also of
the palace (istana), previously occupied by the colonial gover-
nor-general and itself a source, like the older Javanese kingly
kratons (palaces), of enormous, even mystical, power; Soekarno
used the traditional symbols and attributes of this authority
very effectively. The president had played a sporadic part in
politics since the revolution; but in the development of Guided
Democracy he became a political pivot, never possessing an
effective organization of his own but depending on the manipu-
lability of natural political balances to enhance his power as
an extremely active buffer.
A shrewd, charming, and energetic man—admired for
those qualities by friends and enemies alike—Soekarno appears
to be the archetype of the pure politician, far more interested
in power and leadership than in particular policy goals and
broad objectives. (This is a frequent enough phenomenon that
one is tempted to call it culturally Javanese, deriving from a
conception of leadership in which it is sufficient to symbolize
the community without further organizing or changing it. It
is also true, however, that the peculiar diffuseness of polit-
ical power in Indonesia—as in many of the ancient Javanese
kingdoms as well—leaves the government without adequate
strength to pursue predetermined goals, so that the practice
of politics as a vocation alone is both less demanding and more
necessary for survival than the attempt to use political power
for policy purposes.) It is often very difficult to assess
Soekarno's motives, for despite his outgoing character he plays
a cautious and solitary political game; he has no permanent
and intimate political friends or confidants.
Soekarno is familiar with ideas from innumerable sources,
both European and Asian, which he has always been fond of quot-
ing at length—as, for instance, in "Indonesia Accuses," his
defense before the colonial court in 1930. Yet one cannot
easily pinpoint the intellectual influences on him. Frequently
he speaks the language of the early Marxists and insists that
Marxism is a basic element in his thinking, as is the case with
most Indonesian intellectuals who participated in the pre-war
nationalist movements. But a careful reading of his many
speeches brings to light little evidence to show that he has in
fact been deeply affected by Marxist analysis, even though he47
3
may rely on its terminology. Since the 1920's and 1930's,
the ideas which he has emphasized have been remarkably con-
sistent? the themes of anti-imperialism, anti-colonialism,
national unity, mass organization, and reliance on Indonesian
traditions appear again and again, though without further
development over the years. Never having studied abroad in
his youth—he took his engineering degree in Bandung—he seems
much less influenced by Europe than many of his contemporaries
who did go to Holland. Like most of the Javanese elite, he is
culturally proud? and though he often demands social, political,
and economic change—to which the whole twentieth century
nationalist struggle was explicitly dedicated—perhaps he is
not truly convinced that much in Java ought to be different.
Although practical and skillful in daily politics,
Soekarno is romantic, almost utopian, in his ideas. He is
capable of tremendous abstract anger against historical wrongs,
as he sees them—colonialism is one obvious and understandable
example, "liberalism" another—an anger which is maintained
both out of personal feeling and for its usefulness as a
national rallying point. As Feith has emphasized, Soekarno
has always been politically concerned mainly with national
unity, consensus, and solidarity, and he takes seriously the
need to produce a constant flow of unifying symbols. By tem-
perament he is radical and adventurous, virtues which he often
proclaims and which he insists Indonesia as a nation must
3
For Soekarno's early views, see especially his defense
in 1930, Indonesia Menggugat, and Mentjapai Indonesia Merdeka
(Towards a Free Indonesia) written in jail in 1933 and often
reprinted by the Ministry of Information in recent years.
Soekarno seems most inclined to use Marxian analysis
with respect to the development of colonialism. But in dealing
with post-colonial Indonesia, he leaves Marxism behind in favor
of a mixture of modern and traditional ideas, frequently of
powerful symbolic significance. For a good example of his use
of Marxism, see Soekarno's speech for the 30th anniversary of
the PNI on July 3, 1957, translated by Claire Holt, Marhaen
and Proletarian (Ithaca, N. Y.? Cornell Modern Indonesia Pro-
ject, Translation Series, I960). This speech contains ample
indication that Marxism is not the controlling strain in
Soekarno's thought.
For further comment on Soekarno, see George McT. Kahin,
"Indonesia," in Kahin, ed., Major Governments of Asia (Ithaca,
N. Y.? Cornell University Press, 2nd ed., 1963), pp. 601-604?
also, Leslie H. Palmier, "Sukarno, The Nationalist," Pacific
Affairs, XXX, no. 2 (June, 1957), 101-120? John Koe, "Sukarno?
An Examination of a Charismatic Leader in a Non-Western Society,"
The Indian Journal of Political Science, XXIV, no. 1 (Jan.-
March, 1963), 33-50? J. M. van der Kroef, "Sukarno and Hatta?
The Great Debate in Indonesia," The Political Quarterly, XXIX,
no. 3 (July-Sept. 1958), 238-251.48
substitute for the submissive psychology he believes was left
over from the colonial period.
Soekarno is profoundly ideologically inclined, but
without a fully developed and effective ideology. The five-
point Pantjasila, which Soekarno delivered in 1945, was at once
an effort towards unity and political compromise (with Islamic
groups) and a statement of attractive ideals attesting to his
own humanistic sentiments and ability to synthesize? but it
was not a social analysis or a plan of political, social, and
economic organization and action. He has always sought to
lead the whole people. Long associated with the PNI, where his
oldest political friends were, he pulled away from that party
in the mid-1950's because it was insufficiently radical, popu-
lar, and mass-based. Soekarno wanted to lead the "revolution-
ary" forces of Indonesia—forces of momentous change in the
abstract—a movement without precise aim. Thus, at its initia-
tion Guided Democracy was less an idea than a protest. Soe-
karno 's ideas had got no further than a desire for a political
transformation, which he should direct, and an inclination
towards a more "Indonesian" political system, whose details
could be left to future negotiation.
In his attack on the existing political system begin-
ning in 1956, Soekarno assumed the role of spokesman for every
strand of dissatisfaction with national conditions. He disso-
ciated himself from the entire post-war history of political
parties and challenged the very basis of parliamentary govern-
ment. In the debate that developed in 1957 his antagonists
were primarily Hatta, Masjumi, the PSI, Christian parties, and
independent moderates· the PNI and PKI remained silent so long
as no concrete measures were threatened against the political
parties. The arguments in defense of democracy will not be
discussed here? they were mainly traditional arguments--the
need for a legal opposition, freedom, liberty, pluralism, and
the iniquity of dictatorship.Soekarno expatiated on quite
different themes? but as well as his ideas his sense of timing
was important, for his words exactly matched the heart of
Indonesia's mood after half a decade of independence. He had
said many of the same things before, but in the mid-1950's
Indonesia was more receptive? and Soekarno began to drive his
points home.
The national temper to which Soekarno addressed himself
was one of deep malaise; a dissatisfaction with the results of
independence but with no particular direction and no obvious
resolution. Adam Ulam has analyzed the appeals of Communism
4
See, for example, the article by Masjumi general
chairman, Moh. Natsir, in Abadi, March 1 and 4, 1957. Having
clearly restated democratic principles, Natsir turned abruptly
and called for obliteration of the PKI.49
to societies in transition from agrarianism to industrialism
partly in terms of the anarchist protest that arises in the
incipient transformation. Indonesia was not yet in transition
to industrialism, but it suffered similar symptoms, and in
many ways the mood of the country had become anarchic. What-
ever stability, security, and social certainty had existed in
the past was disappearing after the revolution, but the promises
of a new post-revolutionary society were as yet unfulfilled.6
Instead the revolution was followed by a pervasive struggle
for power, felt at nearly every level of society. Competing
and confusing political symbols invaded the villages and urban
kampongs. Thrown together in the new state, without any
foreign power to act as a buffer between them, hostile ethnic
groups came into often violent conflict. At the same time,
economic processes began to show signs of break-down. Corrup-
tion seemed appallingly widespread, and bureaucratic unconcern
was oppressive. Social tensions found expression, as always,
in anti-Chinese activities. New religious sects mushroomed.7
And tough and lawless youth groups roamed the cities; in
Djakarta some of these who had fought in the revolution rallied
Adam Ulam, The Unfinished Revolution (New York: Random
House, I960): "Marxism inherited the most rigid expression of
early liberal materialism, but supplanted it with a Hegelian
methodology that weakened the earlier bias toward individualism
and, paradoxically, with an anarchist protest against material-
ism and industrialism. Hence Marxism has been able to appeal
to both the grievances and the aspirations of a society in the
process of transition, whereas liberalism appeals to the society
that has forgotten both nostalgia for the past and excessively
utopian visions of the industrial future" (pp. 288-299).
θ
Curiously, the colonial period is often referred to
in lower class Indonesia as djaman normal—the normal period.
The origins of the phrase are unclear, but it expresses a con-
sciousness that security and calm (tenang) times have disap-
peared, giving way to times that are decidedly not calm. In a
more abstract sense, djaman normal sometimes expresses the
hope for a utopian future. That the symptoms of social transi-
tion may exist without industrialization is an obvious point.
Urbanization proceeds apace without factories to attract people
from the villages; rather, it is population growth that forces
people from the land. General economic decline brings with it
social misery. Politics enters the villages and urban kampongs
via political party competition, adding to the new tensions.
7
Herbert Feith, The Decline of Constitutional Democracy
in Indonesia (Ithaca, N. Y.: Cornell University Press, 1962),
p. 509; Justus M. van der Kroef, "New Religious Sects in Java,"
Far Eastern Survey, XXX, no. 2 (Feb. 1961).50
to Soekarno in 1956-1957, devoting themselves to harrassing his
opposition. Political parties, most of them closed cliques at
the top, offered little leadership; Parliament seemed to spend
its time in eternally hopeless bickering. Groups to whom the
revolution had given hope of active participation now resented
their being shunted aside in the independent state.
Possibly the PKI1s rise after 1952, as an out-group
sharing no responsibility for the situation, was partly attrib-
utable to its riding the wave of these tensions among the poor
peasantry and urban labor. But Soekarno was riding precisely
the same wave after 1956. With a cultural depth which the
Communists were hard put to match, he spoke to the grievances
of a traditionally-inclined people by glorifying tradition—
even as he attacked some of its social characteristics, such
as "feudalism"—and portraying its restoration in a future
utopia.
Soekarno attacked, for example, the alien ways which
Indonesia had adopted, thereby giving direction to the general
discontent by focussing it on the political system and on ideas
taken over from the imperialist West, the very source of Indo-
nesia's anguish. Attacking liberalism, conceived largely in
nineteenth century terms, as the Western import to blame for
both the party system and an individualistic economy—which
Hatta also condemned—Soekarno stressed two themes in particular
that had deep meaning for many to whom he spoke. One was the
constant political, economic, social, and psychological strife
which, though in fact endemic, liberal democracy was damned as
having introduced. The continual tensions between Parliament
and Cabinet had always brought down Governments before they
could accomplish anything· the idea that a loyal opposition was
necessary had led to simple obstructionism. At another level,
the nation as a whole was divided into a thousand selfish fac-
tions. From any point of view this fissility was discomfiting
and debilitating. Possibly it was even more so for most Indo-
nesians, particularly Javanese, for whom conflict, though
recognized as inevitable, is not perceived as productive; it
is upsetting in a world-view that prefers unity, harmony, and
esthetic balance in the relationships of all things. Soekarno
insisted that conflict and contradiction must be eliminated
from the government and from society. Unity, he demanded, must
be restored and maintained, "dualisms" of various kinds weeded
out, opposition replaced with a harmonious search for consensus.
The second, and related, theme was the return to Indo-
nesia's own identity. The existing political system, according
to Soekarno, was nothing more than a copy of something that
might work in Europe—though even this he occasionally doubted
in his attack on liberalism—but not in Indonesia, which must
create its own system. Gotong-rojong, musjawarah, and mufakat
were the traditional ways of Indonesia, he argued, not the rule51
g
of the 50% plus one majority. Ignoring these traditions, said
Soekarno, had contributed to Indonesia's adversity· in his
Konsepsi speech he appealed to the nation to return to them:
"Ah, what is freedom, my friends. I've always said that freedom
means to return to one's individual character. Let us return
to our own character; who cares if foreigners say this or that.
Who cares if foreigners say 'this system is wrong.' Let them.
But the system is right (tjotjok) for the Indonesian soul."θ
With this appeal, Soekarno touched a very tender spot.
The political elite was uncomfortably sensitive to the judgment
of the world—particularly the Western world, whose social and
political standards it sometimes imitated indiscriminately.
This sensitivity was a basic element in the much talked about
inferiority complex of Indonesian leaders, the result partly
of Dutch tutelage and numerous other cultural and historical
factors. What Soekarno demanded, in effect, was that Indone-
sians be proud of their own heritage and to hell with the rest
of the world, a notion which for some was truly liberating.
In order to become a great nation, Indonesia must become con-
fident, courageous, and assertive; Soekarno appealed to the
ksatria strain in Java, insisting that to look up to others
who were outside the circle was shameful. He also condemned
the imports of foreign culture (rock and roll dancing, for one)
and pointed accusingly at how Indonesia's youth had been led
astray from their own rich culture.If he did not make much
impression on the younger generation of the urban elite in this
respect, he did among the older people, whose sensitivities
were offended by the inevitable relaxation in social standards
and morals that accompanied the post-revolutionary plunge into
the fast-moving world of the 1950's.
θ
In March 1956, Soekarno had appealed to the first
session of Parliament after the 1955 elections not to rely on
50 per cent plus 1 democracy. See Feith, Decline of Constitu-
tional Democracy, p. 515. Hatta objected, in his last speech
before resigning the vice-presidency, that decisions by mufakat
(consensus) were not possible in Parliament? "Here, like it
or not, we must accept the Western system of democracy—i.e.,
making decisions by majority rule"; speech of Nov. 27, 1956,
at Gadjah Mada University, Lampau dan Datang (Djakarta;
Penerbit Djambatan, 1957), p. 45. This speech has been trans-
lated as Past and Future (Ithaca, N. Y.? Cornell Modern Indo-
nesia Project, Translation Series, 1960).
g
Speech of Feb. 21, 1957, in Ministry of Information,
Dewan Nasional, p. 35.
1°See his Independence Day address, Aug. 17, 1957, in
the collection of Soekarno's August 17th speeches from 1945
through 1961, Dari Proklamasi sampal Resopim (Ministry of
Information), p. 324.52
While calling for a purely Indonesian political system,
however, Soekarno also offered the elite an alternative source
of international approval. If Western Europe favored parlia-
mentary systems, the great nations of Soviet Russia and the
People's Republic of China successfully used another system—
and this had nothing to do with the ideology involved. Soekarno
tried to overcome the implicit anti-Eastern bias of highly
educated leaders whose uneasy orientation was to Western
Europe; at the same time, he made less educated nationalists
aware of clear alternatives to the existing political order.
Another theme that Soekarno played upon was that of
revolution, which became his own symbol in contrast with the
staid conservatism of Hatta. The advantage which Soekarno had
in the political temper of the time is evident. The revolution
was modern Indonesia's hour of glory—a time too of anarchic
moods, as are all revolutions. It was a reference point for
many, close enough in time for everyone to remember exictedly
and for all to want to share in the prestige of having partici-
pated. Those whose roles in it had been important forever re-
minded their public of the fact· those who had played insigni-
ficant parts invented new and more spectacular versions of
them. When compared with the years of independence, the revo-
lution seemed more glorious still· and it was recalled in
increasingly romantic terms for its expression of great ideals,
sacrifice, and national unity. The "Spirit of the Proclamation
of '45" became a popular symbol for these feelings.H Exciting
the fascination of men with the revolution, Soekarno demanded
its resuscitation and continuation in terms well suited to a
period of political dissatisfaction. Everything, he declared
In early 1958, the National Council undertook to
interpret the Independence Proclamation of August 1945. Soe-
karno reported the result in his August 17th address of 1958j
"1) The Proclamation of 17 August 1945 is the summit of the
Indonesian people's centuries long struggle, with sacrifice of
property, blood, and life, to build their unity and to seize
their national independence from the hands of the colonialists.
2) The Proclamation of 17 August 1945 is the lighthouse that
illuminates and points out the path of history, the giver of
inspiration and of eternal strength in the struggle of the
Indonesian people and nation in all fields and in every situa-
tion. 3) The Proclamation of 17 August 1945 is a treasury of
mental virtues and the best ideals collected by Indonesian
authors, leaders, and people, who in carrying out the revolu-
tion continually equipped themselves with new national virtue,
thus giving shape to the Indonesian identity which determined
the emergence of the State" (Dari Proklamasi sampai Resopim,
p. 359). The actual text of the Proclamation of Independence
is singularly brief, unromantic, and businesslike.53
time and time again, must be torn down and rebuilt· a revolu-
tion was umwertung aHer werte.12
In recalling the revolution, Soekarno also tacitly re-
called the political differences and tensions of those years:
for example, the division, usually oversimplified, between
those who had been willing at times to negotiate with the Dutch
and those who had wanted to fight on for unconditional victory.13
Soekarno, whose role late in the revolution had been in many
ways less prominent than Hatta's, retrospectively identified
with the uncompromising diehard group. His encouragement of
Chaerul Saleh—who had organized a "bamboo spear" group in
West Java during the revolution to oppose a soft Republican
policy towards the Dutch—and the Murba leaders after 1956 was
in a sense a measure of his own return to the revolution.14
Those who were supposed to have taken the "moderate" stand
during the revolution (and included among those, often quite
incorrectly, were some leaders of Masjumi and the PSI) stood
condemned by the radical view. Incomparably more delicate
was the position of those men who, for one reason or another,
had crossed over the lines to work for the Dutch-sponsored
federal states.
12
Speech of June 9, 1957, to military and civilian
officials in Serang, West Java, entitled "Revolusi--Umwertung
aller Werte," in Dewan Nasional, pp. 37-56. Hatta used the
same phrase to describe revolution, but said that because of
it revolutions must end quickly. "Those who say that our
national revolution is not yet finished [as Soekarno constantly
did] are making a big mistake. A revolution is a sudden ex-
plosion of society, which carries out an 'umwertung aller
Werte.' Revolutions shake the floor and the foundation. . . .
For that reason a time of revolution cannot go on too long,
not more than several weeks or months. After that they must
be restrained· the time comes for consolidation, to realize
the fruits of the revolution" (Speech of Nov. 27, 1956, Djam-
batan edition, p. 55).
13
On politics late in the revolution, see George McT.
Kahin, Nationalism and Revolution in Indonesia (Ithaca, N.Y.:
Corne11 University Press, 1952), passimj
14
It has been mentioned that men associated with Murba
considered themselves followers of the ex-Communist and revo-
lutionary thinker, Tan Malaka, whose fascinating life ended
during the revolution. Tan Malaka had once challenged Soe-
karno 1s leadership of the revolution· yet he represented an
orientation to which Soekarno was sympathetic. One might
speculate that Soekarno's turn to the Murba group—for its
psychology rather than its power—also symbolized an effort to
merge in himself the spirit of two great revolutionary leaders,
Soekarno and Tan Malaka.54
The renewed call to revolution evoked an enthusiastic
response from army officers. In fact, the army was a primary
impetus behind the idea of the ongoing revolution, and this
made it even more necessary for Soekarno to establish his own
claims to revolutionary symbols. For the army was born in the
war of independence, which many officers remembered as the time
of their greatest glory. To revive the revolution was to re-
store the army to its heritage. Numerous officers, including
Nasution himself, had felt cheated of the opportunity to drive
the Dutch out by force of arms, and they remained angry at what
they regarded as civilian perfidy.15 it was they who insisted
most fiercely that all who had cooperated with the Dutch must
be ejected from the government. And in general it was also the
leadership of the army who first sought in the revolution
answers to the perplexing questions of independence. Revolu-
tionary symbols provided the army elite with the ideological
satisfaction which it lacked as a non-ideological group; as
the army became politically more involved, from 1957 onwards,
those symbols became more important to it.16
One significant, and rather negative, symbol from the
revolution was used by Soekarno with considerable effect as a
double barrelled attack on the political parties and Hatta.17
15
On the reluctance of army officers to give up the
fight in favor of a negotiated settlement, see Maj. Gen. T. B.
Simatupang, Laporan dari Benaran (Report from Benaran· Djakarta:
Pembangunan, 1960), p. 139. Simatupang, a Sumatran intellectual
usually associated with the PSI, was Chief-of-Staff of the
armed forces in the early years of independence until the posi-
tion was abolished in late 1953, partly as an after-effect of
the October 17th affair. Thereafter, he continued to write on
problems of military development. See also on the army and the
revolution, The History of the Armed Forces of the Republic of
Indonesia (Ministry of Information, 1960?).
16
The essentially non-ideological character of the army
was reflected in the early attempts of army leaders to create
specific sets of principles—for example, the seven point
statement of duties and purposes of the army—the Saptamarga—
which would serve to unify and identify the army. See The
Identity of the T.N.I. (Tentara Nasional Indonesia, Indonesian
National Army] published by the army information service in
1960(?). In national ideological terms, however, the army was
dedicated to the Pantjasila.
17
It should be emphasized that Soekarno and Hatta, who
seem to have had at least a rhetorical influence on one another
during their debate—a bitter one without names—were both
saying much the same thing about the political system after mid-
1956. Both spoke in glowing terms of the Indonesian heritage,
collectivism, the social conscience and social justice of the55
The President asserted that he had had nothing to do with
creating political parties:
On the matter of parties ... I am not responsible. I
wash my hands of all wrong, because it wasn't I who ordered
the existence of parties. Not I. In November 1945, a de-
cree was issued to establish parties. Thank God, it wasn't
Soekarno who signed that decree.1®
19
Hatta had signed it. Every attack thereafter on the parties
and on the Decree of November 3rd, 1945, implied an attack on
Hatta.
Pantjasila, which ideals the parties had raped, siring the
bastards of particularism and individualism. See especially
Hatta's Nov. 27, 1956, speech. Thereafter they diverged, the
jacobin Soekarno advising devastation of the political system
and its replacement, the conservative Hatta calling for preser-
vation of parliamentary government and its improvement. But
both demanded reform, one in more extreme terms than the other,
both equally idealistic in the heat of the argument. Their de-
bate was influenced as well by mutual dislike, distrust, and
fear—shared by their respective supporters—and by concern for
the eventual shape of the political system. Lashing out at one
another's ideas, they were also striking at one another person-
ally. Soekarno, for example, was accused of wanting a dictator-
ship by the opponents of Guided Democracy, a charge which he
denied vehemently. In June, Hatta gave a speech before the
alumni of the University of Indonesia in which he said that dic-
tatorships were at times useful in history to encourage the
growth of new forces to lead transitional traditional societies
responsibly. But such dictatorships, he said, "can only be run
well and safely by a man with high moral standards, with courage
to act and to accept responsibility, and with extraordinary
ability to organize and administer—an organizer." He went on
to say that such men are rare and therefore dictatorships must
always give way quickly to democracies. The qualities he de-
manded of a dictator, however, were precisely those which many
Indonesian leaders believed Soekarno lacked and Hatta possessed.
See Tanggung Djawab Moril Kaum Intelligensia (The Moral Respon-
sibility of the Intellectual Elite; Djakarta: Penerbit Fasco,
n.d.), speech of June 11, 1957, pp. 18-20.
18
Speech of June 9, 1957, in Serang, Dewan Nasional,
P. 44.
19
For the Decree of Nov. 3, 1945, see Koesnodiprodjo,
Himpunan Undanq2, Peraturan2, Penetapan2, Pemerintah Republik
Indonesia (Compilation of the Laws, Regulations, and Decrees
of the Government of the Republic of Indonesia), vol. for 1945,
p. 76. The decree proposed the rapid establishment of polit-
ical parties before the beginning of 1946. For the background
of the November 3rd decree, see Kahin, Nationalism and Revolu-
tion, pp. 147 ff.56
Soekarno also drew upon the struggle for independence
to indict the political parties for deviating from the true
ideals of Indonesian nationalism. At the PNI anniversary cele-
bration in July 1957, he pointedly asked the party members to
compare themselves with the young and dedicated nationalists
they had been in 1927, when the original PNI was founded under
his leadership. He reminded them of their early agreement that
mass action was the key to the nationalist movements.2θ How far
those ideals had been left behind was obvious; except for the
PKI, all the parties remained—as they had originated—as essen-
tially elite groups enjoying little contact with the millions
whom they were supposed to represent. The revolution, said
Soekarno elsewhere, indeed the entire nationalist movement, was
"for the people"? but the parties did not represent the people,
not did Parliament, and therefore nor did the cabinet.
It was to serve the function of representing the people
that the National Council was formed. The reasoning behind this
claim was indicative of some basic tendencies in Guided Demo-
cracy. Because the first general elections had failed to satis-
fy national aspirations, Soekarno—and many others—denied the
validity of those elections as a source of popular legitimacy.
But Soekarno's own appeal, unlike that of the parties, was un-
questioned; even his enemies paid it their respect. This
popular appeal was itself legitimate, and it lent legitimacy
to the Government behind which Soekarno stood. in the later
development of Guided Democracy this was a central considera-
tion. For beneath the surface appeals to such notions as
gotong-ro jong and musjawarah-mufakat, which had very little
real significance for the style of national politics, there was
also a more subtle and implicit appeal to traditional sources
of legitimate authority, which the political system fell back
on as soon as the novel forms—elections—began to collapse.
When Soekarno turned from the failures of the old
system to the expectations of the new one, the picture became
much more cloudy. Having addressed himself to such problems
as the lack of singleness of purpose, national disunity, social
upset bordering on anarchy, cultural disintegration, and the
declining authority of political leadership, Soekarno outlined
the restorative powers of Guided Democracy in terms that indi-
cated a great deal of political work would be needed to flesh
out the future system. The National Council, he explained,
was only a beginning, necessary to bridge the gap between the
people and the Government. Conflict would eventually be elim-
inated; there would be no institutional opposition. Strong and
unified leadership would stimulate and direct national economic
progress. The main objective of Guided Democracy, according
to Soekarno, was a just and prosperous society, to be achieved
through planning—a Guided Economy, as it came to be called.
20
Marhaen and Proletarian, passim.57
But what would he the structure of Guided Democracy? The de-
mands of Soekarno's opponents for a clearer view of the govern-
ment he wished to create were never satisfied, because Soekarno
himself was uncertain and, also, because his aims were severely
limited by what he believed to be practicably attainable.
As well as introducing functional groups, Soekarno
indicated in 1957 that he would prefer a single mass party to
lead the state. This was a longtime predilection. In August
1945, the Preparatory Committee for Indonesian Independence,
under Soekarno's leadership, had agreed to establish a single
Partai Nasional Indonesia, but the idea never got beyond the
paper stage and was succeeded shortly by the introduction of
the multi-party system, encouraged, for a number of reasons,
by the revolutionary Government.21 Soekarno's interest in
single party systems was apparently stimulated again during
his trip in 1956 to the Soviet Union and China. In June 1957
he described his view of Soviet practice to a group of military
and civilian officials in Madiunj
... the decree to establish parties, thank God, did not
come from me. But—well--what can you do? It's too late.
. . . Now there are many big parties and small parties.
In other countries the situation is different. There it
is easy to bring about [social and economic] change. In
the Soviet Union for example . . . there is only one
partyi Change is easy there. [Soekarno then describes the
Soviet government.]
Thus the ministers in the Soviet Union are a "distil-
lation, "--the people are distilled to form the Supreme
Soviet, the Supreme Soviet is distilled to form the Pre-
sidium, the Presidium is distilled to form the Government.
So there is always a straight line between the government
and the people. Consequently all development there runs
smoothly. ... What the ministers determine is in fact
distilled from the people, and what is ordered by the
ministers penetrates to the common people.
But not here, my friends, or in parliamentary democracy
as in the Western world? no, no, the system is different
... all the more so what is called constitutional parlia-
mentary democracy.22
Soekarno also dwelt on the advantages of Nehru's Con-
gress and U Nu's AFPFL. But in 1957 he did not propose to
21
See Kahin, Nationalism and Revolution, pp. 147 ff·
Benedict R. O'G. Anderson, Some Aspects of Indonesian Politics
Under the Japanese Occupation: 1944-1945 (ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell
Modern Indonesia Project, Interim Report Series, 1961), pp.
109-112.
PP
72-73.
Speech in Madium on June 19,
1957, Dewan Nasional,
2258
create a new single state party. Nor did he insist, as he had
in 1956, that all political parties ought to be abolished? on
the contrary, he said later that it would be difficult to elim-
inate the parties.23 The gap between what Soekarno may have
desired and what it was politically possible to achieve was
too great. In 1957 the situation was not ripe for replacing
the parties? and it never became so. Political conditions
were too much in flux to risk the additional upheaval which an
attempt to get rid of the parties would cause. If the army
undertook the job, it would inevitably take control of the en-
tire country, a possibility against which Soekarno was on con-
stant guard. Moreover, there was as yet no real alternative
to the parties? no organization existed, amenable to the Presi-
dent's control, that could assume the role of a national mass
organization. When such a body was established—the National
Front for the Liberation of West Irian—it was led by the army
and therefore hardly useful to Soekarno.
Having no organization of his own through which to
exert political control, Soekarno therefore wanted institutional
change to proceed at a moderate and controllable pace. In
spite of his surface radicalism, he continually insisted that
Indonesia's new political system would be created by constitu-
tional means? and he appealed to the Constituent Assembly to
draft a constitution incorporating the ideas of Guided Demo-
cracy. 24 Soekarno justified the National Council partly as an
experiment for the Constituent Assembly to take into considera-
tion. In view of his prolonged assault on the party system,
the specific proposals he made in 1957 for its modification
were quite moderate? one, for example, was to adopt a law,
similar to West German practice, eliminating parties which
failed to win the support of at least five per cent of the
electorate.
The National Council spent little time in 1957 discuss-
ing Guided Democracy—primarily because of the pressing regional
situation. One highlight, however, was a lecture to the Council
23
On occasions Soekarno said that he had intended the
abolition proposal in 1956 only as shock therapy for the par-
ties. At other times, he said that this was the first in a
series of moves intended to reform the political system. The
second move was the Konsepsi, with the gotong-rojong cabinet
proposal. This having failed to gain acceptance by the anti-
communist parties, he retreated yet another step and established
the Kabinet Karya and the National Council. See speech by
Roeslan Abdulgani at the Pantjasila Seminar in February 1959,
Seminar Pantjasila ke-I (Jogjakarta: Seminar Committee, 1959),
pp. 149-150.
24
See his August 17th address, Dari Proklamasi sampai
Resopim, pp. 332-333.59
in October by Professor Djokosoetono, the highly respected
Dean of the University of Indonesia Faculty of Law. Djokosoe-
tono offered a political analysis suggesting that real author-
ity had shifted from the parties to President Soekarno, in
whose hands therefore now rested the ability to determine
policy and to bring about further change in the political
system. He also presented a learned discourse on the theory,
origins, and practice of functional representation elsewhere
in the world. But Professor Djokosoetono made no proposals
that the Council took up at this time, and his talk appears to
have received scant attention.
The Army and Martial Law
Though it was not always evident, because of the domi-
nating figure of Soekarno, the main driving force behind Guided
Democracy was the army. Its officers were contemptuous of the
old political system and most of its civilian leaders. They
were angry at the confusion of political parties, the corrup-
tion, the ideological strife, the political instability, all
of which they believed, in simplistic fashion, was to blame
for the lack of progress in the country and for the divisions
within the army and the nation. Nasution and many other offi-
cers sought a highly disciplined social order, a government
undisturbed by parliamentary politics, and a reorganization of
political activity down to a minimum of nationally unified and
consolidated groups under the tight control and direction of
a powerful governmental executive. These at least were a few
elements in the thinking of politically conscious army leaders.
25
No attempt will be made here to undertake a full dis-
cussion of the development of the army, in either its military
or its political aspects. A body of material is beginning to
build up on the Indonesian army and on armies in the new states
generally. For background, see Kahin, Nationalism and Revolu-
tion, and in Major Governments of Asia? Feith, Decline of Con-
stitutional Democracy, and "Dynamics of Guided Democracy" in
Ruth T. McVey, ed., Indonesia (New Haven: HRAF, 1963)7 Guy
Pauker, "The Role of the Military in Indonesia," in J. J.
Johnson, ed., The Role of the Military in Underdeveloped Coun-
tries (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1963) and "The
Role of Political Organizations in Indonesia," Far Eastern
Survey, XXVII (Sept. 1958); Daniel S. Lev, "The Political Role
of the Army in Indonesia," Pacific Affairs, XXXVI, no. 4
(Winter 1963-64). In Indonesian, see A. H. Nasution, Tjatatan2
sekitar Politlk Militer (Djakarta: Pembimbing, 1955), an ex-
tremely important introduction to the army and to Indonesian
politics since the revolution, and T. N. I. (Tentara Nasional
Indonesia? Djakarta: Jajasan Pustaka Militer, 1956) on the
revolutionary history of the army? T. B. Simatupang, Pelopor
dalam Perang, Pelopor dalam Damai (Pioneer in War, Pioneer in60
But much more was involved in the army's quest for a new
political system. The development of Guided Democracy also
turned on a direct conflict of interest between the officer
corps and the political parties: the army was trying to gain
admission to the center of the political arena# while the par-
ties were trying to save themselves from being removed from
exactly that spot.
Martial law legalized the entry of the officer corps
into the political life of the nation. The power of regional
army authorities was greater than that of the national military
administration, which in Djakarta was subject to more restrain-
ing influences, but the army everywhere set out haphazardly to
exercise maximum authority after March 1957. The emphasis of
the General Staff was mainly political: Nasution called several
conferences of martial law administrators in the first half of
1957 to deal not only with regional problems but also with army
disunity, restoration of the Dwitunggal, and the establishment
of the National Council.2θ In the regions, army commanders
initially stressed economic development, promising the people
of their territories that the army would now put things right.
The powers given to the army under the state of siege
were extensive; even so they were often exceeded, for there was
no authoritative civilian supervision. Nearly every civil
office was subject to military control or the possibility of
it. But although the administration of the country was there-
fore overcapped by a new authority, the army did not actually
attempt to assume responsibility for running the state. Rather,
army headquarters in the several provinces and in Djakarta in-
truded into parts of the administration, then stayed or withdrew
as circumstances dictated. Offices of particular importance—
those in charge of economic affairs in the provinces, for exam-
ple—quickly came directly under army control. But the martial
law administration was enabled to intervene anywhere and at any
time it chose.
Peace; Djakarta: Jajasan Pustaka Militer, 1954), Soal-Soal
Politik Militer di Indonesia (Problems of Military Policy in
Indonesia; Djakarta: Gaja Raja, 1956), and Pemerintah, Masjara-
kat, Angkatan Perang (Djakarta: Indira, 1961); see also The
History of the Armed Forces in Indonesia (Ministry of Informa-
tion, 1961). General works on the military role in the new
states include S. Huntington, Changing Patterns of Military
Politics (Glencoe: The Free Press, 1962); S. Andrzejewski.
Military Organization and Society (London: Routledge, 1954);
H. Daalder, The Role of the Military in the Emerging Countries
(1s-Gravenhage: Mouton, 1962).
2 6
See Madjalah Angkatan Darat (Journal of the Army),
VII, no. 4 (April 1957), 34-35, and 37; and no. 5 (May 1957),
36-40.61
The result was a growing number of dysfunctions in the
governance of the country. For the relationship between the
new martial law administration and civil government was unclear,
and there was little effective coordination of the two. In
his capacity as Minister of Defense, Djuanda was formally re-
sponsible for the activities of the armed forces under martial
law· but, although his relations with Nasution were good, his
actual authority over the General Staff was limited and over
the regional army almost non-existent. Military authorities
were not reluctant to promulgate regulations—often in contra-
diction to existing laws—on every conceivable subject, from
gambling to taxation.27 Legal forms were not the army adminis-
tration's strong point. Within weeks of the March proclama-
tion, the army came under attack for causing confusion in the
law, in the government, in economic affairs, and in numerous
concerns of private citizens. Some groups expressed the
suspicion that army leaders wanted to rule the country alone,
which Nasution took pains to deny, and there was considerable
misgiving in Parliament (and in the Cabinet) over the baffling
lines of authority which arose when the martial law administra-
tion was superimposed on the civilian governmental structure.
Martial law was everywhere in evidence? and everywhere
the novel oppressiveness of military control—albeit not always
intentionally, consistently, or efficiently oppressive--con-
tributed to the growing unpopularity of the army. But the
state of siege did not affect all regions equally. The differ-
ences were related to the position of the army in each territory
prior to March 1957 and to the character of the local civil
administration. Where the army had been continually active
in suppressing local rebellions or dacoity, regional commands
were much stronger and more assertive under martial law than
elsewhere. Thus in West Java, home of the Darul Islam, the
army assumed greater authority than in Central or East Java.28
27
See, for example, Himpunan Peraturan, Penetapan,
Instruksi, Pengumuman dan Surat Keputusan (Compilation of
Regulations, Decrees, Instructions, Announcements, and Deci-
sions) of the West Javanese martial law administration for the
first six months of 1958. See also G. Kanahele, "The Role of
the Military in Indonesia: 1957-1960" (unpublished paper,
Cornell Modern Indonesia Project, 1962) and Daniel S. Lev,
"State of Siege in Indonesia" (unpublished paper, Cornell
Modern Indonesia Project, 1957).
28
The Siliwangi division of West Java was by far the
best trained and equipped in the army, and as the first divi-
sion formed during the revolution its esprit de corps was second
to none. One of its commanders in the revolution was Nasution,
who maintained a close personal relationship with it thereafter.
Siliwangi was of prime political importance because its juris-
diction included the capital city until 1960, when a separate62
In the latter area, which had never suffered serious security
problems, civil-military relations under martial law were the
best in the country; the regional command, under Col. Sarbini,
supported the widely respected governor of the province,
Semadikoen, and was the source of more assistance than inter-
ference in local industry. Throughout Java, the army initially
worked with and through the pamong pradja, which remained the
effective administration over the island. In part this re-
flected not only the prestige of pamong pradja officials, but
also a concurrence of interest between the pamong pradja and
the army, neither of which was sympathetic to the political	-g
parties or had any profound commitment to a parliamentary order.
Within two years, however, local army commands began to make
their presence felt in the villages, a traditional sphere of
influence of the pamong pradja, and the latter soon began to
turn back to the parties for help.
In the outer islands, the army commands assumed author-
ity in nearly every phase of civil administration far beyond
anything known in Java. One obvious reason for this was that
army leaders there were either at the helm of regional opposi-
tion to Djakarta—and indeed, had themselves proclaimed martial
law in their areas—or else, in some non-dissident areas, were
in a good position to take advantage of the critical situation
(e.g., through smuggling activities). In addition, however, no
administrative structure existed in the outer islands of com-
parable strength, organization, and authority to the pamong
pradja in Java. In the outer islands the pamong pradja was an
import from Java with few local roots, while the pre-war tradi-
tional political and social organization was shattered at the
garrison and command was created in Djakarta primarily in order
to reduce Siliwangi's control. Siliwangi officers had always
been more politically minded than officers of the other divi-
sions, because of their higher education, their revolutionary
experience, and their continual operations against the ideo-
logical rebellion of the Darul Islam.
29
There was a high degree of political compatibility
between the pamong pradja and the army elite. The strength
and sustenance of neither derived basically from the parliamen-
tary system. Since the Japanese occupation, the pamong pradja
had been in decline and was eventually to be eliminated alto-
gether under the new decentralization law. Pamong pradja offi-
cials looked to the army for help to avoid abolition of their
corps, and army leaders saw in the pamong pradja the unifying
national administration they believed Indonesia must have. An
alliance thus evolved. Before long Nasution began (in early
1958) to demand a reconsideration of the decentralization law
(Law 1/1957) approved by Parliament in late 1956. The pamong
pradja was in fact rescued and its position greatly strengthened
by new regional administration laws in 1959, which served also
to weaken the parties' hold on local government.63
top levels. A potential vacuum of authority existed into which
the army was rapidly drawn as soon as a crisis developed.30
The powers exercised by the regional army under martial
law operated in a significant way to restructure the state.
Already identified with their provinces, army commands hyper-
actively and over-optimistically undertook to fulfill local
demands for the economic development which civilian government
had been unable to accomplish. Soon local officials and groups
began to look to the powerful military to assist them or to
serve as a shield against Djakarta policies considered damaging
to local interests. Regional military headquarters gradually
took it upon themselves to decide which government regulations
to apply, which to put aside, and which to alter in the appli-
cation. Neither the Cabinet nor, for that matter, the General
Staff was able to exercise full control over the regional
martial law administrations. The result was that through the
structure and authority of the army under martial law, a kind
of de facto federal arrangement evolved. A true federal system,
which outer island-based parties had demanded in the Constituent
Assembly, was an emotional negative symbol for most national
leaders, partly because the Dutch had sponsored a federal con-
stitution during the revolution and because federalism was re-
garded as a threat to national unity. The irony of this aspect
of martial law was that it worked to satisfy regional demands
for local autonomy even as the regional crisis, one of the ex-
plicit bases of which was over-centralization, was coming to a
head.
Apart from the structural consequences of martial law,
its influence on the character of politics generally was pro-
found. Civil liberties suffered enormously. Although it had
not been unusual before, particularly in areas where local
martial law had existed, arrests and long detentions without
accusation or trial now became frequent. In most areas, mili-
tary headquarters had no compunctions about taking men into
custody on grounds of being a threat to security. Too often
there was insufficient evidence to bring charges· sometimes
those arrested were simply forgotten. Parliamentary protests
did little to mitigate this problem. Along with other abuses
of martial law powers, the constant possibility of arbitrary
arrest laid a pall of fear over political activity that was to
become worse as time went on.
A serious political blow was also struck at labor
unions, the most important of which was the Communist-controlled
SOBSI. Soon after martial law was proclaimed, regional army
commands began to restrict union activity; strikes were for-
bidden in certain "vital industries," and in some areas the
30
See Feith's stimulating discussion in
Guided Democracy," pp. 332-334.
"Dynamics of64
martial law administration assumed the function of labor arbi-
tration. Unions were compelled to request permission of army
authorities before undertaking labor actions of any sort. The
PKI was the most hurt by these restrictions and openly protested
them. In August 1957 a national military regulation forbidding
strikes in all "vital industries"—which were to be designated
by army headquarters—evoked an angry attack by the PKI that
martial law was being used against working class interests.31
The anti-Communist press, however, had praised earlier measures
of similar import and called for further restrictions on SOBSI
and the PKI.32 Indeed, the non-Communist parties took increas-
ing interest in the army as an anti-PKI weapon. But it was a
weapon over which they had no control, and frequently it turned
against them as well.
Press restrictions called forth protests from all sides.
Army leaders in general regarded the press as provocative, divi-
sive, sensationalist, and politically motivated.33 No sooner
had the state of siege begun than the martial law administra-
tion clamped down first on news reports concerning army affairs
and then, increasingly, on nearly all other kinds of political
reporting. Before long the daily press was suffering temporary
closures, bans, and the arrest of journalists and editors.
The Indonesian press had always been lively and vital, and
journalists put up a continual and vigorous battle against all
restrictions, but to no avail. Limitations on daily newspapers
varied from region to region, but everywhere martial law damaged
press freedom and morale. During the first two years of martial
law, the press gradually became more silent on major political
issues? editors resorted increasingly to the art of oblique
statement in the effort to say something significant without
being held criminally responsible.34
The direct challenge of martial law to the political
parties became obvious almost before the ink was dry on the
March proclamation. Both in Djakarta and in the provinces, the
parties faced formidable restrictions on their activities.
Political meetings were controlled, demonstrations curtailed,
and organizational efforts blocked by military headquarters.
31Persbiro Indonesia (PIA), Aug. 28, 1957.
33Pedoman, March 25, 1957.
33
For one comment on the press, see M. Istijarso, "Pers
didalam Negara SOB" (The Press under Martial Law) in Madjalah
Angkatan Darat, VII, no. 5 (May 1957), 4-6.
34
On press restrictions, see Kronik Pers, published by
the Lembaga Pers dan Pendapat Umum (Press and Public Opinion
Institute) in Jogjakarta, 1957 and 1958. See also Lev, "State
of Siege in Indonesia."65
Members of Parliament and of the regional legislative assemblies
were arrested on various grounds. Parliament was permitted to
convene, though some MPs had feared that it might not be, but
in the regions military authorities sometimes ordered the
legislative assemblies to refrain from discussing "political"
topics, and in a few instances the assemblies were forbidden
to meet at all. At the same time, in an effort to "clean up"
the country soon after martial law began, Nasution ordered a
large-scale anti-corruption campaign that badly damaged the
leadership circles of several parties. Personal bank accounts
were made liable to examination in order to determine the ori-
gins of sizable holdings. In addition, many sources of party
funds were co-opted by military headquarters as they established
control over key government offices, especially in the regions.
Only the Communists did not suffer from this diversion of funds
and from the anti-corruption campaign, for the PKI did not de-
pend on the government for funds and harbored few corruptors.
But all the parties found themselves increasingly hemmed in by
the hostile army.
Army leaders were more than negatively active in poli-
tics, however. The organizational efforts which they pursued
beginning in June 1957 indicated that Nasution and several of
his staff officers were aware of the political potential of
martial law. In that month, the first Youth-Military Coopera-
tion Body (Badan Kerdja Sama Pemuda Militer, BKS-PM) was estab-
lished under the leadership of Lt. Col. Pamurahardjo, who later
played a leading role in the take-over of Dutch firms. Follow-
ing formation of the BKS-PM, several other civil-military
cooperation bodies were formed during the next two years among
labor and peasant organizations, women's groups, religious
leaders, and others.^5 The cooperation bodies consisted of
youth organizations most of which had political party ties,
including the Pemuda Demokrat (PNI), GPU (Masjumi), Ansor (NU),
Pemuda Rakjat (PKI), and more than two dozen other youth and
student organizations belonging to various federations.
Nasution1s purpose in creating the cooperation bodies
was to loosen the parties' grip on these "functional groupings"
and to bring them instead under the army's wing. All the activ-
ities of the constituent organizations were to be channelled
through the cooperation bodies, which would exercise extensive
control over them. The theoretical basis of the effort was the
35
For background on the several civil-military coopera-
tion bodies, see Karya Kerdja Sama Sipil-Millters 25 Djuni 1958-
6 Djuli 1959 (The Results of Civil-Military Cooperations June
25, 1958-July 6, 1959) published in 1959 by the State Ministry
for Civil-Military Cooperation Affairs, established in mid-1958.
See Program Kerdja Sama Pemuda Militer (Program of
the Youth-Military Cooperation), published in 1958 by the BKS-PM66
concept of territorial warfare, the basic doctrine of defense
strategy to which Nasution had committed the army. Possibly
originating in Japanese occupation ideas and undoubtedly influ-
enced by revolutionary experience, territorial warfare, as
Nasution explained it, was essentially a guerilla strategy in
which each area of the country would be prepared to defend it-
self, independent of central direction, against outside attack.
This would require not only proper logistics and tactics but
also considerable social, economic, and political preparation,
in which the army would necessarily assume the leading organi-
zational role.37 The political implications of the doctrine
are obvious and, after 1957, tended to take precedence over
its military significance. As for the civil-military coopera-
tion bodies, they were justified as an attempt to unify the
multifarious organizations then divided among the political
parties in order to prevent further splintering of the nation.3θ
The effort was not successful. Most parties had will-
ingly allowed their subsidiary organizations to join the
cooperation bodies at first, but they quickly became aware of
the danger of doing so. After a year's experience, the PKI
declared that it would avoid further involvement in the coopera-
tion bodies, and other parties were similarly inclined. Army
leaders were never able to establish complete control over the
various groups—partly because the officers designated to work
with them were often politically incompetent—and the parties
retained their hold on the constituent organizations. But the
cooperation bodies remained a civil arm of the military, which
never ceased its attempt to infiltrate the civilian polity.
The one group over which the army was able to establish control
was that of the veterans, due to the special relationship in-
volved. Veterans of the revolutionary war had been organized
under the political parties for several years. In 1957 and
1958 Nasution successfully undertook to dissolve all previously
existing veterans' groups, which were then reorganized into a
single Veterans' Legion supervised by the army. The protests
of the parties—especially the PKI, which had a powerful
veterans' organization—were ignored.
Nasution's next step, after the initial formation of
the cooperation bodies, was to attempt to create a larger and
more comprehensive national organization under the army's aegis.
Both Soekarno and army leaders were interested in establishing
an all-inclusive national front which would eventually replace
the political parties. But the problem was who should lead it
and what should be its political orientation. Following the
37
On territorial warfare, see Nasution, Tjatatan2,
especially pp. 199-200, and Perang Gerilja (Guerrilla Warfare^
Djakarta: Pembimbing, 1953), passim.
38
See Karya Kerdja Sama Sipil-Militer, p. 83.67
take-overs of late 1957, Nasution took the initiative in setting
up a new organization that would assume responsibility for all
further actions in connection with the West Irian campaign.
Soekarno attempted to have this organization based on the
People's Congress (Kongres Rakjat), an ephemeral body that had
first met in 1955 and was considered to be distinctly on the
political left, the PKI having played an important part in it
after both the PNI and Masjumi (along with the PSI and Christian
parties) had refused to participate.39 Nasution side-stepped
Soekarno1s proposal, however, and in January 1958 succeeded in
forming a National Front for the Liberation of West Irian
(Front Nasional Pembebasan Irian Barat, FNPIB) based upon the
civil-military cooperation bodies.Thereafter Nasution tried
to expand the FNPIB into a multi-branched national structure
which would be able to compete with the parties for popular
support. But its effectiveness was contained by the parties,
which did everything possible to obstruct it, and by Soekarno,
who gained influence in the FNPIB through several of its indi-
vidual leaders. The FNPIB lasted until 1960, but as in the
case of the cooperation bodies it never became an effective
political organization; its leaders were politically inexperi-
enced and, particularly in the regions, their occasional misuse
of the body for the improper collection of funds quickly brought
it into disrepute.
Meanwhile, by mid-1957 martial law, the formal basis
of these army activities and the chief threat to the parliamen-
tary system, became a prime target of the political parties.
The army was under continual attack in the press from April
onwards for its interference in political and economic affairs
and for the numerous restraints imposed under martial law.
The martial law statute itself was vulnerable because of its
Netherlands East Indies origin; a frequent accusation was that
the colonial law was being applied in free Indonesia much as it
had been when the country was still a colony. A new statute
had been under consideration since the early 1950's, for the
"state of war" then existing in several provinces, including
all of Java since 1952, had provoked widespread agitation.
But it was only in 1957, when civilian leaders were thoroughly
shaken by the use to which the state of siege regulation was
put by the now politically aggressive army leadership, that
both the Government and Parliament considered it imperative to
pass a new law. The Government introduced the new bill in
June, and the debates, lasting intermittently until December,
39
On the Kongres Rakjat, see Feith, Decline of Consti-
tutional Democracy, p. 408, n. 154. The Kongres Rakjat con-
sisted of a core of the PKI, PSII, and Murba.
4^See Karya Kerdja Sama Sipil-Militer, pp. 110 ff, and
Kanahele, "The Role of the Military in Indonesia," pp. 73-81,
on the development of the FNPIB.68
were among the hottest in Parliament's history, ranging over
the entire question of the army's place in independent Indonesia
But the regional crisis gave army leaders the advantage in
pressing the Government both for an extension of martial law
and for a new statute which would provide the military with
powers no less drastic than before.
Initially the Cabinet had requested a statute with four
progressive levels of martial law. This the parties opposed
vehemently, fearing that four stages would enable the Govern-
ment to declare martial law on the least provocation and that
it would be all too easy for the military to maintain it in
force for a prolonged period merely by dropping down one level
as a concession. Djuanda then offered a three-level statute,
but this too was unacceptable to Parliament, which insisted
upon a two-level progression, one giving the military extensive
powers and the other maintaining the civilian government's
authority. Under this scheme, once a serious crisis had passed,
administrative authority would be transferred from the military
to civilians; parliamentary control would be restored to some
extent, even though the Government would still possess extra-
ordinary powers under the less drastic stage of martial law.
The Cabinet accepted the views of Parliament after informal
talks in late 1957, and the new law passed in December incor-
porated only two martial law levels: a keadaan darurat (state
of emergency) in which civil authority obtained, and a keadaan
perang (state of war) in which the military held dominant
authority.41 Little was accomplished in the new law in the way
of clarifying military-civil relations under the keadaan perang,
though a few articles were included whose purpose was to estab-
lish some control over the army's powers.
In practice the 1957 law gave the parties no relief.
For the old state of siege now became the new style state of
war, and the limitations on military authority put into the
statute had almost no effect in restraining army officers; for
example, regional martial law administrators were enjoined by
the new law to establish collegial bodies, including some
civilian officials, but these councils never became strong and
in some areas they were never even created. Moreover, under
its new name martial law was extended for a further full year
41
On the legislative history of the new martial law
statute from the early 1950's onwards, see Jusmar Usman,
"Sedjarah Perkembangan Pembentukan Undang2 Keadaan Bahaja 1957"
(History of the Development of the State of Danger Law of 1957)
mimeographed in 1958 by the University of Indonesia Institute
for Social Research; also, Djody Gondokusumo, foreword in
Koesnod iprodjo, Undang2 Keadaan Bahaja dengan Peraturan Pelak-
sanaannja (The State of Danger Law and its Implementing Regula-
tions; Djakarta: S. K. Seno, 1957), pp. 1-8.69
until December 17, 1958. Thereafter the law of December 1957
became more a focus of interpretive attention than had ever
been the case with the 1950 Constitution, which it largely
supplanted.42
The army's rapidly increasing involvement in political
affairs was accompanied by a plunge, from the diving board of
martial law, into the warm waters of the economy. Officers
became accustomed not only to the exercise of legitimate author-
ity but also to its perquisites. Control of key administrative
offices opened new vistas of wealth in the form of bribes and
contacts with private (often Chinese) businessmen. This became
a matter of concern for civilian opponents of martial law and
for some army leaders themselves. The main event in the army's
economic evolution was the seizure of Dutch firms in December
1957. Soon after the army took charge of the firms, a stream
of surplus officers was fed into them. Those appointed to
management positions within the companies were not the best
officers; most were either ready for pension with nothing else
to do or were men for whom the army did not have good use.
Even the cream of the officer corps, however, would not have
been well suited to manage the complicated affairs of the
companies, whose decline may be attributed partly to the army's
role in them.
Aside from this problem, however, the important point
to be made here is that the officer corps had acquired an in-
stitutional foothold in the economy that it would not willingly
relinquish. In late 1958 the large diversified firms (as well
as the smaller ones) were nationalized and broken up into their
component parts for distribution among several appropriate
ministries. But before this could be accomplished, Nasution
insisted that the companies remain a source of jobs for older
army personnel about to be displaced by younger officers. At
the same time, on August 30, 1958, he issued an order placing
a large number of officers attached to the central martial law
administration on the management boards of the former Dutch
firms.43 Only after the Government had agreed to these
42
See, for example, Erman, Ichtisar Undang-Undang
Keadaan Bahaja 1957 (Survey of the State of Danger Statute of
1957; Djakarta: Tantular, 1957); Koesnodiprodjo, Peraturan Dasar
S. Ο. B. dengan Peraturan Pelaksanaannja (Basic Regulation on
the State of War and Siege and Implementing Regulations; Dja-
karta, S. K. Seno, 1957) with supplement; Basarudin Nasution,
S. Ο. B. (Djakarta: Fasco, 1957); Goenawan and Soedarto, Undang-
Undang Keadaan Bahaja 1957 (State of Danger Statute of 1957;
Semarang: Kreshna, 1958). Numerous publications on martial law
appeared from the Ministry of Information and the martial law
administration itself.
43
See the appendices to Djuanda's report to Parliament
on the operation of martial law in December 1958, Risalah
Perundingan D. P. R. (Parliamentary Debates), Dec. 1958, pp.
5145-513T.----------70
conditions were the companies allowed to pass from full army
control. For a time army personnel in the companies remained
under military discipline and sanctions, making it very diffi-
cult for civilian managers to supervise them. Eventually,
however, growing pressure brought them under the same criminal
and civil code provisions as other employees? but their connec-
tions with the army continued to be distinctly advantageous,
both for those officers in the firms and for those outside.
It should be mentioned that, once ensconced in the
economy, the army elite lined up with other groups that favored
a thoroughgoing state economy. An element in the development
of the Indonesian economy after 1957 is evident here, for only
those groups and parties—like Masjumi and the NU—which repre-
sented some private commercial interests made any plea at all
for the Dutch firms to be turned over to private hands. Apart
from a strong ideological predilection for socialism inherent
in the nationalist movement since the 1920's, there was also a
natural impulse for groups grounded in the government to favor
state ownership. And this meant not only the bureaucracy it-
self and those parties, like the PNI, closely related to the
bureaucracy, but also the officer corps, which possessed no
legitimate basis for individual commercial activity and had no
appreciation of the private economy.
Some of the points mentioned in the preceding pages
are relevant to a discussion of the army's evolution as a polit
ical force. A comparison with other countries in Southeast
Asia and elsewhere shows the Indonesian army to be peculiar as
armies go in the new states. The most obvious distinction is
that at no time did it seriously attempt to take over the state
though within a year or two the army's political involvement
came to be called, by puzzled journalists, a "creeping coup
d'etat."
One reason for this was that most army leaders in fact
had limited ambitions. They did not see themselves as perma-
nently running the state and assuming full responsibility for
its concerns. Politically they were not overly confident.
Nasution himself had been burned in 1952 by his first confron-
tation with Soekarno and apparently feared a repeat perform-
ance.44 But the likelihood of a coup did not depend on Nasu-
tion1 s views alone? it was influenced by the character of the
officer corps as a whole. In many respects, Nasution was no
more than primus inter pares within the top leadership of the
army, and though he was highly regarded and often admired there
44
For indications of Nasution's high regard for Soe-
karno' s strength as a popular leader and as a skilled politi-
cian, see Tjatatan2, passim. See also Feith's comments on
Nasution1s resumption of his position in 1955? Decline of Con-
stitutional Democracy, pp. 440-444.71
were nevertheless serious restrictions on his ability to
maneuver. He needed the support not only of the General Staff
but also of the regional panglimas, whom Nasution tried con-
stantly to cultivate. Far from being politically unified,
however, the officer corps was badly divided on several crucial
issues.
With admitted over-simplification, the officers might
be classified as radicals and moderates. Despite their common
sentiment that the army must play a significant role in the
state, that civilian politicians must be restricted, and that
the PKI ought to be eliminated, the officer corps enjoyed no
consensus on two primary issues: the character of the army's
role and the place of Soekarno. The "moderates," particularly
the Javanese officers, were as loyal to Soekarno as most
Javanese. Many outer island officers, on the other hand—
including those who finally joined the PRRI—recognized Soekarno
as a symbol of national unity but did not feel an emotional
commitment to the man. Similarly, officers in the Javanese
divisions believed that the army should serve as a driving
force behind the civil administration rather than attempt to
assume full responsibility for administration and policy making?
often they doubted their own ability to deal with difficult
problems of policy in which they had no experience. In the
outer islands, however, army leaders were much less impressed
with the civilian regime, and this attitude was not balanced
by a respect for the social superiority of the civilian elite,
as was the case in Java. In part the reasons operative here
were the same as those for the differing character of martial
law in Java and the other islands. Yet it must be emphasized
that there were vast differences between the outer island
regions themselves in these respects, and moreover other—fre-
quently personal—factors entered into the considerations of
officers who did or did not incline to a coup. Thus, not even
all of those who joined the PRRI believed that the army should
try to rule the country by itself.
General Jani, one of the officers in charge of Sumatran
operations against the PRRI in 1958 and a future Chief-of-Staff
of the army, described the division of the officer corps before
the rebellion as follows:
One group of officers wanted a very quick change in the
government [in 1956-1957], one that if necessary would go
ahead without the President. This group ended up in the
rebellion. The second group was more moderate, and it
. . . is now the leadership of the army. This second group
realized that there could be no very rapid change—i.e.,
no military coup—and certainly not one that left out the
President. These officers realized that the President was
essential, that there was no other political leader with
the influence of the president over the masses and over
other political groups in the country.72
Also, this moderate group took the view that if the
President were pushed aside, unity in the army would be
endangered. Above all, the most important factor is army
unity· it is essential to the nation and to the welfare of
the army as a participant in the life of the nation.
There was no unity in the army between these two major
groups, and the moderates realized that a military coup
would prevent unity from being achieved, since the differ-
ences between the two groups would then be thrown into
stark relief.
The moderate group also feared ... government by
coup. Because there was no unity in the army, the first
coup would eventually set off another coup by an opposing
group and so on ad infinitum. This the moderate group
wanted to prevent at all costs.
Jani's analysis ignored the regional conflict itself, important
generational differences in the army elite, and many other com-
plicating factors in military politics, but it does indicate
part of the range of army thinking on these issues. It also
offers significant clues to the style of army participation in
national politics after the rebellion.
The rebellion served to bring about greater unity within
the officer corps by eliminating many of its "radicals." The
moderates left in control were determined to have more of a
say in the government, but with some important exceptions during
the following years they were opposed to a coup. Furthermore,
the rebellion also militated against renewed radicalism on the
part of officers in the regions· it was in effect a "lesson."
But the unity achieved as a consequence of the rebellion did
not extend equally to all political issues. Army leaders were
never able to forge the true consensus in the officer corps that
would make it an effective political organization with well
defined and articulated goals. It was partly for this reason
that the FNPIB and the civil-military cooperation bodies were
unsuccessful as political instruments of the army. And so long
as differences continued to exist within the officer corps, it
was more convenient to recognize the authority of President
Soekarno than to risk exacerbating internal disunity by assuming
more political responsibility.
There were other important factors at work reducing the
likelihood of a coup. It was of crucial significance that the
officer corps was not excluded from the political arena. Had
they been on the outside, as in Burma and Pakistan, for example,
a coup—other conditions remaining constant—would probably
have occurred. But martial law gave the officer corps legal
power, and the power satisfied, corrupted, and moderated. The
economic engagement of the army elite was clearly important in
Interview of Oct. 18, 1961
4573
this regard. Utrecht, with typical trenchancy and some bias,
had this to say about the army's role in the take-overs and
subsequent disposition of the Dutch firms?
In 1958 the contest for political authority between the
political parties and ... the army, as a new force which
rose to the throne of power on 14 March 1957 under martial
law ... entered its second phase. Beginning on 3 December
1957 Dutch property was taken over from private Dutch
businessmen by the Indonesian government. This take-over
was accomplished under the direction of the Armed Forces,
particularly the Army. Subsequently the State Firms--the
new form of the old Dutch companies—became a new field of
endeavor for a certain group of officers of the Army. As
a result, the Army also participated in the Indonesian
economy, becoming a force with economic interests. These
officers who entered the economic arena became a new social
group with a special place in the economic life of Indo-
nesia. Consequently—and this is often forgotten by those
involved—the Army shares the responsibility for [economic
conditions] in our country]
Using part of the state apparatus, this new social
group, continually strengthening its position as a new
'ruling class,' has made every effort to transfer the en-
tire significant part of the economy into the hands of the
State Firms which it controls. It has also tried to push
aside the national private firms, only some of which are
controlled by political party leaders [or]adventurers . . .
connected with the parties.46
Utrecht went on to point out that the corrupt activities of
the parties were not necessarily eliminated when the "new
social group" took over the firms.
To sum up some of these points, the army elite under
martial law was rapidly absorbed into the national political
elite. Political and economic power brought not only such
material perquisites as homes, cars, trips abroad, and imported
luxuriesy in addition, the social position of officers naturally
improved, and it might be that research would indicate a rising
ratio of marriages between daughters of the social elite and
army officers after 1957. Officers as a group did not want to
give up these benefits which had been denied them for so long.
One of the few open channels of upward social mobility, the
army offered a way up that its officers finally managed to use.
46
E. Utrecht, Pengantar dalam Hukum Indonesia (Introduc-
tion to Indonesian Law; Djakarta: Ichtiar, 1959), pp. 450-451.
47
For a comment on armies as counter elites—and in
general for a profound analysis of elites in the new states—
see Harry J. Benda, "Non-Western Intelligentsias as Political
Elites," reprinted in John H. Kautsky, Political Change in
Underdeveloped Countries (New York, London? John Wiley and Sons,
1962), pp. 235-251.74
This too militated against military radicalism? and it also re-
duced the potential of the army as an instrument of social and
political change. Like the civilian elite which it was to some
extent succeeding, the officer corps became a political group
with visible interests to defend. The antagonism between the
army elite and the PKI must be understood partly in these terms.
For the existing hostility of officers towards the Communists—
on nationalist, religious, and historical (the Madiun rebellion)
grounds—was intensified by the threat that the PKI's true
radicalism offered to the interests of what Utrecht called "the
new social group."
The development of the army as a political participant
caused noticeable strains within the officer corps that also
help to explain why there was no coup. Burdened by something
of a split personality, the army suffered constantly from un-
certainty about its proper role. Nasution and other politically
conscious officers tried to formulate flexible conceptions of
the military function which would admit a place for the army
in government. Their concern was to find a legitimate basis
for military participation in the state, independent of martial
law, and it was in pursuing this goal that the army leadership
played a key part in the development of Guided Democracy. On
the other hand, there were numerous field officers, with pri-
marily martial conceptions of the military function, who re-
sented the idea that the army must perform non-military tasks.
The fact that their colleagues were becoming engaged in all
manner of political and economic pursuits—and becoming spattered
with the grime of corruption—increasingly irritated profes-
sional soldiers who understood the army as a technical organi-
zation with highly specialized functions. This cleavage in the
officer corps between the narrower and broader views—conven-
tional and unconventional conceptions, as Nasution labelled
them—of the army's relationship to the state never disappeared.
It served as another limitation on the freedom of action of
the political leaders of the army.75
CHAPTER III
INTER-PARTY CONFLICT - 1957
The threat which Guided Democracy posed to the entire
party system did nothing to bring the parties nearer one another
in a common defense of parliamentary democracy. In 1957, in
fact, partly as a result of the regional elections, party con-
flict grew more intense, and the ability of the party system to
maintain itself against the attacks of the anti-party forces
became more open to question. The major issue within the party
world from 1956 onwards was the rapidly increasing strength of
the PKI, which was illustrated dramatically by the regional
elections. It is an essential point of this analysis that
Communist successes in the parliamentary system contributed to
the eventual replacement of that system by Guided Democracy.
This chapter will deal with the position of the PKI,
the attempts in 1957 to forge an anti-Communist alliance, and
the reasons why such efforts failed. The discussion will also
examine the inadequacy of the party system for its own defense.
The PKI and the United Front
Long before February 1957 it was evident that the PKI
had become a major political force. Its recovery since the
Madiun rebellion of 1948 was completed under the youthful,
dynamic, and intelligent leadership of D. N. Aidit, whose poli-
cies had worked convincingly well since 1952. The heart of
those policies was the national united front approach to the
PKI's domestic political position and (as defined in 1956)
acceptance of parliamentary methods as a means to power.
In Aidit's terms, the elections of 1955 had indicated
that Indonesian political forces divided into three major
groups of roughly equal strength: the progressive, the middle,
and the reactionary "pig-heads."1 The first included the urban
"'■"Bersatulah untuk menjelesaikan tuntutan2 Revolusi
Agustus 1945," report to the fourth pleno session of the PKI
Central Committee in July 1956, in D. N. Aidit, Pilihan Tulisan
(Selected Writings· Djakarta: Jajasan "PembaruanT" 1959-1960),
II, 44-45. Also on the national unity front policy see, inter
alia, Aidit, "Menempuh Djalan Rakjat" (1952), ibid., I, 41-54,
"Front Persatuan Nasional dan Sedjarahnja" (1952), ibid., I,
66-75, and the Department of Agitation and Propaganda of the
PKI Central Committee, Mengapa Front Nasional (Why the National
Front· Djakarta, 1957).76
proletariat and the peasantry, led by the PKI; the second was
the petit bourgeoisie and the national bourgeoisie, represented
by NU, the PNI, and a few of the smaller parties; the third was
"the feudal and comprador class working hand in hand with
foreign imperialism,"2 3 4 led chiefly by Masjumi and the PSI.
Aidit's national united front policy required an alliance be-
tween the progressive and middle groups against the pig-heads.
This united front from above was based on sound polit-
ical considerations.2 Being weak and vulnerable when the
transitional Alimin leadership gave way to Aidit and other
young men in the party, the PKI needed protection in order to
survive. Its chief antagonists were Masjumi and the intellec-
tual-led PSI, either of which would have been pleased at any
time to see the PKI crushed. And that such a danger indeed
existed was brought home to the Communist leadership in August
1951, when the Masjumi Prime Minister, Sukiman, undertook to
suppress a series of Communist-led strikes and to arrest some
regional and national Communist leaders on charges of conspir-
acy against the republic.4 in order to defend itself from
similar anti-Communist actions and to win time to organize an
effective mass proletariat and peasant base, the PKI had to
seek protective cover. It turned to the PNI, which also saw
its most powerful competitor for power in the Masjumi.
A tacit arrangement with the PKI was useful to the PNI
in that it offered parliamentary support for which little posi-
tive repayment was necessary· the PNI need only permit the PKI
freedom to develop. PNI leaders were not complacent about the
PKI's potential, but many of them were less concerned with this
threat than with the immediate danger posed by Masjumi. It is
important to emphasize what an ominous challenge those in East
and Central Java who genuinely feared the possibility of a
militantly Islamic state perceived in Masjumi. With moral sup-
port and encouragement from President Soekarno, who was also
much less worried about the PKI than Masjumi, the left wing
radical nationalist PNI leadership of Sidik Djojosukarto and
Sarmidi Mangunsarkoro induced their party to "cooperate" with
the PKI. The most important manifestation of this cooperation
appeared during the parliamentary election campaigns of 1955,
2
Mengapa Front Nasignal, p. 5.
3
For an excellent discussion of the development of the
national unity front, see Ruth McVey, "Indonesian Communism and
the Transition to Guided Democracy," in A. Doak Barnett, Com-
munist Strategies in Asia (New York, Londons Praeger, 1963).
See also Arnold Brackman, Indonesian Communism (New York:
Praeger, 1963).
4
Herbert Feith, The Decline of Constitutional Democracy
in Indonesia (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1962),
pp. 187-192.77
when PNI opposition to the PKI was played down in favor of a
common drive against Masjumi.
The PNI was not the only object of the PKI's united
front attentions. There were also efforts directed to some
extent at courting the NU, with two objectives in minds to
blur the anti-religious label with which Communism had been
stamped, and to isolate Masjumi from its natural Islamic allies.
Neither of these ends was of course fully attainable, but the
second was frequently within sight. Differences of origin and
character between NU and Masjumi leaders—which had been a
contributory factor in the NU's withdrawal from Masjumi—made
the Islamic bonds between the parties meaningful only on purely
Islamic issues.
As much cooperation, or uneasy truce, as there was in
this temporary camp which the PKI sought to create was limited
territorially to East and Central Java. It was most necessary
there, because these were the areas of major strength for the
PNI, NU, and the PKI. And it was also most feasible there, so
long as those three parties for one reason or another regarded
Masjumi as their chief opposition. For—with many qualifica-
tions, however—it was easier for the Javanese parties to
cooperate with each other than with the primarily non-Javanese-
based Masjumi. McVey and Feith have both noted that the shared
values of the abangan-related PKI and the prijaji-abangan-based
PNI facilitated cooperation between those two parties.5 More-
over the santri kolot (conservative Islamic, as opposed to
modern reform Islamic) outlook which NU represented had some-
thing in common with abangan and prijaji views. The NU kiaji
(Islamic leader), the PNI prijaji, and the PKI peasant spoke
the same language and shared the same stereotypes of the non-
Javanese for whom Masjumi often spoke. Social communications
between the three groups in Java flowed with more or less
traditional ease--which is not to deny the occasional violence
of santri-abangan relations—and this was not true of the
^For a discussion of the abangan, santri, and prijaji
variants of Javanese religious culture, see C. Geertz, The
Religion of Java (Glencoe: Free Press, I960). Briefly (and
much too simply) the abangan are the majority of village and
urban Javanese whose religion is nominally Islamic but primar-
ily pre-Islamic in origin. The santri are the more devout Mos-
lems, divided between the modern reform oriented and the con-
servative (and more sufi influenced) groups. The NU represents
a greater proportion of the second santri group; Masjumi is
based on the first. The much smaller prijaji group consists
of higher and lower Javanese officials, many of whose religious
practices seem to be a more sophisticated form of abangan prac-
tices. However, among the prijaji are some who are more closely
related to santri than non-santrl views, and who were to be
found in Masjumi rather than PNI.78
relations between thoss
santri in Masjumi.θ
groups and the majority of non-Javanese
Working on their common Javanese base and common oppo-
sition/ in some form, to Masjumi, the PKI sought to maintain
an alliance with the PNI and a friendly agreement to disagree
with the NU. The effort was almost entirely the PKI's. Com-
munist newspapers and party journals avoided attacking the two
parties, frequently flattered them, and aimed their artillery
at Masjumi and the PSI. PKI policy statements promised full
support for the "progressive" parts of PNI-NU cabinet programs.
Indeed, the only government which the PKI did not support was
the Burhanuddin Harahap (Masjumi) Cabinet in 1955. To maintain
its individuality, however, the PKI also insisted that it would
criticize "the incorrect ideas and mistaken policies ... of
these parties"”7 with which it sought to cooperate.
In 1955, the general elections confirmed the success—
for the PKI—of its united front policy and determined organi-
zational efforts. At the fourth plenum of the central committee
(CCPKI) in 1956—following the twentieth party congress of the
CPSU, which took the same view—Aidit reviewed the parliamentary
efforts of the party and made it clear that they would continue:
Indonesian Communists have long thought that the road
to socialism which the Indonesian People must take need not
be precisely the same as that taken by the Russian People,
the Chinese People, or the Peoples of other countries which
now constitute the socialist family. [On the 32nd anniver-
sary of the PKI, May 23, 1952, the CCPKI said that] "every
people will follow its own road to socialism, in accordance
with the development of its own national, situation, polit-
ical, economic, and cultural situation." ...
In the PKI program accepted by the fifth National PKI
Congress in 1954, it was said inter-alia that "the PKI has
participated and will continue to participate most actively
in the parliamentary struggle. The PKI, fully conscious
θ
In Masjumi's leadership there were some Javanese, among
them Jusuf Wibisono, Sukiman Wirjosandjojo, Kasman Singodimedjo,
Mohd. Roem, Prawoto Mangkusasmito, and others. When Masjumi
began to divide in 1958 over what to do about its leaders who
were in the PRRI, the Javanese leaders of the party split be-
tween those who wanted to condemn them and those who refused
to do so. Within the Masjumi itself, apart from personal in-
clinations and predilections, tension existed between its Java-
nese and non-Javanese components. But on the whole the outer
island and Sundanese (West Java) Islamic strength of Masjumi
gave the party the character to which Javanese parties reacted.
7
Aidit, "Menempuh Djalan Rakjat," Pilihan Tulisan, I,
4679
of its political responsibility, carries out its parlia-
mentary work with full seriousness."
The Communists consider the execution of the general
elections of late 1955 as an important success of the
People's struggle.θ
By mid-1956, however, there were already threatening
anti-parliamentary and anti-Communist clouds on the horizon.
In the same CCPKI speech, Aidit averred that the Communists
would always choose the peaceful, parliamentary path to social-
ism. "Now," he said, "the question arises whether other groups
and parties will allow a peaceful, parliamentary, transition
to a system of People's power."θ He feared two possibilities,
the first being that parliamentary institutions might be de-
stroyed or the PKI's future endangered by rigged election laws
which would make parliamentary successes meaningless. On this
point he offered a caution:
We need to be reminded of a simple matter, that is, if
we want to have a transition to a better situation in a
peaceful way, in a parliamentary way, then above all there
must be a parliament ... a transition via parliament isn't
possible without a parliament. Therefore one of the im-
portant responsibilities of Communists, democrats, and
patriots now is to oppose every force that wants to abolish
parliament, to oppose efforts to make undemocratic election
laws, and to fight for a more democratic election law than
the one we have now.10
The second fear was that repressive steps might be
taken against the PKI. As in 1951, the answer to this problem
was that, "Arbitrary measures by the reactionaries against the
People and the Communist Party can only be broken by a People's
strength greater than the strength of the reactionaries and by
firm leadership from the Communist Party united with other
democratic parties."H The united front policy remained neces-
sary to the PKI for the foreseeable future.
The very electoral successes the Communists had achieved
in 1955, however, contained the seeds of destruction for the
8
"Bersatulah untuk Menjelesaikan Tuntutan2 Revolusi
Agustus 1945," Pilihan Tulisan, II, 76-77. See also D. N.
Aidit, Selamatkan dan Konsolidasi Kemenangan Front Nasional
(Secure and Consolidate the Victory of the National Frontj
Djakarta: Pembaruan, 1955).
^"Bersatulah, " p. 79.
^Ibid., pp. 79-80.
nibid., p. 79.80
united front policy. In part this was because they bred over-
confidence in lower echelon party leaders.12 But more import-
ant, the PKI had been returned as the fourth largest party,
with its greatest strength in the PNI-NU bastion of East and
Central Java, and such an outcome might well cause all other
parties serious second thoughts about the Communist danger.
In an analysis of the parliamentary elections, Aidit was full
of praise for the PKI, PNI, PSII, and NU victories. He com-
pared NU with Masjumi—a comparison showing the former to be
infinitely preferable.12 The PSII and Perti, Aidit guaranteed,
would achieve important advances as Islamic parties if they
retained their progressive and democratic policies. Of the
PNI, he had this to say:
The PNI is the oldest nationalist party ... and ac-
cording to its tradition the PNI is anti-colonialist. Ex-
perience shows that to achieve its anti-colonialist goals,
the PNI considers it a must to cooperate with all parties
which are struggling for national freedom, thus also with
the PKI. . . .
In the Ali-Arifin Cabinet the PNI indicated the large
and important differences between its policies and those
of Masjumi-PSI. This is the most important factor among
others which has made it possible for the PNI to appear as
the largest party in these last elections.
12
There had always been some opposition to the united
front. Alimin, from whom Aidit had taken over the party
leadership, attacked it in March 1956. The CCPKI replied
critically in July. See ibid., p. 90. Alimin was not so in-
fluential, however, as to cause great concern among party
leaders.
13
Aidit, Selamatkan dan Konsolidasi, pp. 10-11. Aidit
said of the NU, that:
There are people who think that the shift of the Islamic
masses from Masjumi to NU proves that the Islamic masses
are becoming more conservative. This is not true, because
the policies of the NU in the Ali-Arifin Cabinet and the
policies set forth by NU leaders in their campaign speeches
were not all conservative, but rather indicated the willing-
ness of the NU to cooperate with democratic parties, also
with the PNI and PKI, with the condition of course that
Islam not be damaged.
Thus in political problems ... the NU is more demo-
cratic and more national than Masjumi-PSI. ... The adjust-
ment of Islam to the special character of Indonesia along
with the anti-colonialism policy of the NU is more attrac-
tive to the Islamic masses than the "modernism" of Masjumi
in religion and the agreement of that party's policies with
the interests of foreign monopoly capital.81
As long as the PNI is faithful to its democratic and
anti-colonial tradition, and as long as the PNI holds
firmly to its foreign policy formulated at the Asia-Africa
Conference in Bandung, and all the more if the PNI success
fully cleanses itself of corrupt elements, then the PNI
will remain the most important nationalist party.14
Throughout 1956 the PKI avoided clashes with the PNI and NU,
emphasizing its own support for the anti-imperialist, progres-
sive ideas of Soekarno (until he suggested burial of political
parties) and bidding the PNI and NU continue their joint strug
gle with the PKI against reaction, against Masjumi and the PSI
and against foreign monopoly capital.
But the concern about the PKI which its showing in the
general elections had aroused among leaders of other parties
was increased a hundredfold by Soekarno's demand for a four-
party cabinet. This threw an even brighter spotlight on the
powerful position which the PKI had achieved in six years.
The advantages which the PKI enjoyed after .1956 were
considerable. It was without competition as a well organized,
unified, active, and spirited political party. The PNI, NU,
and Masjumi, all of which had participated in the second Ali
Cabinet, were under attack for their inability to govern, for
the deterioration of their party organizations, for their
corruption? their demoralization was progressive. Soekarno
had favored the PKI with his trust, and the party stood with
him against the dangers of regionalism, with which Masjumi was
increasingly identified. But the PKI's problems were per-
plexing. In the first place, the fall of the Ali Cabinet im-
periled the continued operation of parliamentary institutions,
to which the PKI was committed. Even if the opposition of
other parties to the PKI prevented it from joining a new cabi-
net, the Communists nevertheless preferred a party cabinet to
one that was extra-parliamentary. The only condition for the
PKI was that a new party cabinet would have to be one in which
Masjumi played at most a peripheral role around a PNI-NU nu-
cleus. The PKI supported Suwirjo's efforts as formateur, "so
that the crisis could be overcome by the political parties."15
When Suwirjo failed and Soekarno appointed himself formateur,
14
Ibid., pp. 12-13. The PKI reserved to itself the
right to accuse the PNI of harboring corrupt elements. Three
paragraphs above this quote, Aidit stated that Masjumi-PSI
accusations against PNI corruption and dealings in special
licenses were only a cover-up for the Masjumi-PSI defense of
foreign monopoly capital and of the terrorist Darul Islam.
I^CCPKI statement on its attitude concerning Soekarno
as formateur, Harian Rakjat, April 8, 1957.82
the PKI had no choice but to give him full backing. The re-
sulting Djuanda Cabinet, with its implicit PNI-NU core, was the
second best development the PKI could hope for. Thereafter the
PKI made every effort to shore up Parliament and to improve
prospects for the return of the parties to a position of power.
The second great worry of the PKI was that the army,
under martial law, was threatening both parliamentary govern-
ment and, in a very direct way, the PKI. Other parties, worried
by Communist successes, might encourage amenable army commanders
to restrict the activities of the PKI and its subsidiary organ-
izations· or they might demand an outright ban on the PKI. It
was this thought that prompted Aidit in 1956 to ask whether
other parties and groups would permit a parliamentary transi-
tion to socialism. To discourage army leaders from contemplat-
ing any action against the PKI, Aidit reminded them in a parlia-
mentary speech in early 1957 that:
It is a public secret that in the elections for both
Parliament and the Constituent Assembly more than 80% of
armed forces members voted for Democratic parties, and 30%
of the armed forces vote was given to the ΡΚΙ.Ιθ
Aidit was defending the PKI from an attack by a Masjumi MP on
its responsibility for the Madiun rebellion and replying with
an attack of his own on the Sumatran dissident councils. Later
in the speech he expressed his conviction that no responsible
person would want the Madiun tragedy to be repeated:
[We in the Indonesian Communist Party] want to, and we
are convinced that we can achieve our political goals in a
Parliamentary way. We will avoid every possibility of
civil war so long as we are guaranteed political rights to
fight for our ideals. But if bayonets are thrust at us
and bullets whistle towards us as in the Madiun Affair,
... we will not present our breasts to be punctured by
the bayonets and pierced by the bullets of the counter-
revolutionaries. 17
16
"Konfrontasi Peristiwa Madiun (1948)—Peristiwa Suma-
tra (1956)" (Confrontation: The Madiun Affair [1948]—The Suma-
tra Affair [1956]), speech before Parliament, February 11, 1957,
in Pilihan Tullsan, II, 127. The rest of the comment is as
follows: "The PSI and the Masjumi got less than 20%, thus less
than the votes given to either the PKI or PNI alone. The PSI,
which has influence over a number of high echelon officers, was
the fifth party in the armed forces, while the Masjumi, because
of its pro-Darul Islam character, was the sixth party." The re-
mark about the PSI was intended to indicate a division of polit-
ical loyalties between military brass and ranks.
17
Ibid., p. 132. The entire paragraph is italicized.83
Aidit and other party spokesmen repeated this threat several
times, in 1957 and later, warning the army that the party might
be forced to go underground.1θ
In facing these challenges, the PKI needed the united
front in order to avoid the dangers of complete isolation. But
the logic of the PKI's position made a deterioration of the
united front almost inevitable. As Masjumi grew weaker, the
threat of the PKI to the two center parties, the PNI and NU,
appeared ever stronger.
In these circumstances, it was of the utmost necessity
for the PKI to prevent Communism from becoming a central polit-
ical issue. The united front policy was based on the assump-
tion that there were grounds for cooperation with several non-
Communist parties, and that by emphasizing those grounds the
PKI could survive without sacrificing its program. From 1956
on, the tangle of difficult issues that emerged, running be-
tween and through most groups on the political scene, worked
in the PKI's favor in this respect. Thus, if the NU was moving
towards Masjumi on the Communist issue, it was moving away from
it on regionalism. The same was true of the PNI—which was
also amenable to pressure from Soekarno—and to some extent of
the army, whose officers were divided over the issues of re-
gionalism, army leadership, and army policy. Anti-Communist
unity was unattainable so long as no agreement existed between
the most important parties and groups on other pressing matters.
The PKI had maintained that colonialism, imperialism, and con-
tinued Dutch control of the economy were the essential issues
which the nation must face; in 1957 it added regional "separa-
tism" to the list. These problems, said the PKI, deserved the
undivided attention of all loyal parties. In taking this posi-
tion the PKI could point to the similar views of Soekarno,
making it awkward for national PNI leaders to disagree too
fervently.
By mid-1957, however, it was becoming increasingly hard
for the PKI either to take the spotlight off itself or to make
the PNI and NU feel secure against an eventual Communist tri-
umph. Regionalist charges against the Communists became more
vituperative after Soekarno asked for their inclusion in the
cabinet. In July, PKI and SOBSI headquarters in Djakarta were
grenaded, increasing the political tension. And the regional
elections which began in June delivered a further powerful blow
to the united front, particularly to PKI-PNI "cooperation."
18
At a PKI meeting in Bandjermasin, Kalimantan, a member
of the PKI provincial committee stated, using Aidit's words,
that if the Communists were denied the use of parliamentary
methods, they could not be blamed for "choosing another road."
A Communist leader in Surakarta, Central Java, said the same
thing; Pedoman, November 16, 1957.84
The Regional Elections: PKI Displacement of the PNI
Despite martial law, the regional elections scheduled
for 1957 were held throughout Java, South Sumatra, Riouw, and,
in 1958, Kalimantan.19 Elsewhere political conditions resulting
from the regionalist movement precluded them, but the mere fact
that elections took place in some areas was significant, for it
seemed to indicate that the parties would maintain their right-
ful place in the political system.
The elections were for representative councils in the
provinces and second level districts (kabupaten), including
municipalities. They marked a transformation of local govern-
ment, the result of years of debate over the issue of centrali-
zation versus local autonomy.20 Those advocating more local
autonomy had triumphed in Parliament in 1956, and a larger
measure of autonomy was incorporated in Law 1/1957.21 In the
second half of 1956 local legislative assemblies which had been
in existence since the early 19501s had been replaced with
transitional assemblies—to function until the elections of
1957—constituted according to party strength in each area in
the 1955 parliamentary elections. Law 1/1957 authorized three
local government levels, corresponding to the province, regency,
and village.22 At the first two levels, popularly elected
legislative councils (Dewan Perwakilan Rakjat Daerah, DPRD)
were to select executive councils (Dewan Pemerintahan Daerah,
19
No thorough research has been done on the elections
of 1957, and there will be no attempt here to discuss them fully
apart from their influence on political party relations. What
material is available on the elections can be found in Indone-
sian newspapers and a few political journals. Legge has pro-
vided some statistical data on the elections and the make-up of
the regional legislative councils, as well as more discussion
than can be found anywhere else of the workings of post-election
regional government· see J. Legge, Central Authority and
Regional Autonomy in Indonesia (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University
Press, 1960).
20
See G. Maryanov, Decentralization in Indonesia as a
Political Problem (Ithaca, N.Y.s Cornell Modern Indonesia Pro-
ject, Interim Reports Series, 1958) and Decentralization in
Indonesia; Legislative Aspects (same, 1957).
21
For a full discussion of Law 1/1957, see Legge,
Central Authority.
22
They were called first, second, and third level
autonomous districts. The third level was to consist of a unit
comprising one or several villages. Its establishment was
postponed, however, primarily because of the difficulty of de-
ciding upon the optimum size and powers of the unit.85
DPD) according to distribution of party strength. The DPRD
were also to select a chairman of the DPD to act as regional
executive (kepala daerah), his appointment being subject to
approval by the central government. Although certain central
government supervisory powers were retained in Law 1/1957, in
the main regional government was accorded vastly increased
authority. For the political parties, regional autonomy por-
tended a tremendous expansion of their influence, if they were
capable of taking advantage of it.
In spite of the importance of the regional elections,
both to local government and as an indicator of national polit-
ical trends, the campaigns of 1957 were lackadaisical and un-
exciting compared with those of 1955 for Parliament and the
Constituent Assembly. With the exception of the PKI, the par-
ties had lost their £lan. Parliament's impuissance had become
apparent, and the government parties of the last cabinet seemed
to have lost control of everything.
Moreover, the issues of 1957 which were considered im-
portant had little to do with the elections. The regional
conflict was of overriding importance, but no one thought that
the regional elections would solve it. In the campaign, the
PKI and Masjumi exchanged charges involving the regional prob-
lem, but most of the other parties did not bring it up. Guided
Democracy, the second issue of the day, was not one that the
parties cared to discuss either, insofar as it meant restric-
tion of parliamentary government. Generally their activities
were confined to praising their own ideologies, pointing out
one another's ideological deficiencies, and promising a better
life to the people of the villages and cities. These platitudes
could not compete with broader national issues for public atten-
tion. Finally, the elections of 1957, unlike those of 1955,
did not themselves offer hope of a great national reformation.
Rather they seemed merely another event in an extremely event-
ful year.
Regional election campaigns suffered from what was
called "the martial law atmosphere." Everywhere restrictions
were imposed by military authorities on political activities.
In East Java, for example, after an initial postponement of the
elections, the martial law administration limited the campaign
to five days, from July 21 to July 25.23 Political rallies
and demonstrations were watched closely. But election cam-
paigning also suffered from a lack of interest within party
headquarters themselves. According to one reporter who surveyed
the pre-election mood in East Java, many parties simply did
not consider it as urgent to campaign for the DPRD as for the
23Duta Masjarakat (NU daily), July 15? Keng Po, July 5,
1957.86
24 m,
national Parliament and the Constituent Assembly. The re-
wards of local government did not increase quickly enough after
the general elections to exert a counter-attraction. And be-
cause national party organizations were not especially respon-
sive either to lower echelons within the party or to local
electorates/ the sense of importance of very few regional poli-
ticians was satisfied.
Also, most parties' treasuries were depleted, as is
illustrated by the fact that, in East Java for example, several
parties were using campaign posters left over from the 1955
elections.25 Small parties complained that their pocketbooks
were empty. Only the PKI seemed to have enough money? its
posters and party insignia, assiduously hung up everywhere
possible, were new.25
Everywhere in the campaign, the PKI began first and ex-
pended the greatest energy.27 Each of the other parties tended
to campaign in the locale of its known strength, conceding
areas where the 1955 elections had shown it to be weak. Masjumi
worked hardest in Djakarta and West Java, the NU in East Java—
where it confidently told other parties to stop worrying about
the PKI28—the PNI somewhat haphazardly throughout Java. But
following the elections of 1955, the PNI, NU, Masjumi, and
other parties had permitted their organizations to atrophy.
4Keng Po, June 16, 1957. The non-party Keng Po1s was
by far the best reporting on the elections, and for that matter
on politics generally.
25
These posters were decorated primarily with the party
insignia. In Indonesian elections a vote was cast by puncturing
the symbol of the party. Among the many illiterate it was
therefore of crucial importance that the parties make their
symbols well known.
Keng Po, June 16, 1957. The source of PKI funds has
always been a matter for speculation. Some came from contribu-
tions of party members. It was often claimed by the non-Com-
munist parties that prime sources of Communist funds were sym-
pathetic Chinese and the embassies of the Soviet Union and Com-
munist China, but there is no real evidence of this. It should
be mentioned that the PKI seems to have been much more efficient
and careful in handling its funds than the other parties. Com-
munist Party journals paid considerable attention to budget
procedures, something that one would not expect to see in the
publications of other parties.
2 7
See Keng Po, comment on the West Java campaign,
July 19, 1957.
28Puta Masjarakat, July 4, 1957, July 25, 1957.87
Little attention was paid to local party workers, with the re-
sult that their interest flagged once the major campaigns for
Parliament had ended. National leaders of these parties con-
centrated on Djakarta politics, while the PKI worked feverishly
in villages and cities throughout the nation. It took nothing
for granted.
In addition to its high morale, healthy financial
position, and powerful organization, the PKI could also cam-
paign on issues not available to other parties. Never having
been in the Government, it abjured responsibility for all
governmental failures since 1950. It could identify itself
with Soekarno, and in the campaign used the slogan "To Carry
Out the Konsepsi Choose the Hammer and Sickle] "29 The ρκι was
also able unhypocritically to attack the corruption of the
other major parties.3θ As if to prove the point, martial law
authorities had begun to arrest prominent members of the PNI,
Masjumi, and NU on usually well-founded charges of corruption;
no PKI leaders were similarly accused. Other parties lamely
explained that the Communists had had no opportunity to be
corrupt.3! There were also more substantive issues: for
example, the PKI demanded land for the peasant, and in this
the party was convincing, for the Communist-associated Barisan
Tani Indonesia had proved its dedication to peasant interests.33
Regional PNI, NU, and Masjumi leaders could not very well
vigorously take up this cry of "land to the peasant," because
in some cases it was their land or that of important financial
supporters which was at stake. Communist charges of landlordism
against the PNI and NU in several areas stung painfully.
29
See the campaign speech by M. Lukman, vice-chairman
of the CCPKI, in Harian Rakjat, June 21, 1957.
30
An election slogan frequently used was "Anti-Subver-
sion—Elect the PKI; Anti-Corruption—Elect the PKI; Anti-
Bureaucratism—Elect the PKI"; Harian Rakjat, June 19, 1957.
31
See Duta Masjarakat, July 4, 1957; and for an analysis
of the elections, combined with an attack on the PKI, by
Darsono, see Keng Po, Sept. 9, 1957. Darsono pointed out that
PKI accusations were made more effective by the failure of the
PNI, Masjumi, and NU to condemn their corrupt members. Indeed,
they usually felt obliged to defend them.
32
Harian Rakjat, June 20 and 21, 1957. The BTI's legal
aid was constantly provided to peasants squatting on government
land, and it was almost always available for help, advice, and
leadership. For a comment which throws some light on the
difference between the BTI and PETANI (Persatuan Tani Indonesia,
Indonesian Peasant Union) of the PNI, see Sikap (PSI journal),
March 20, 1957, p. 10.88
The PKI also apparently enjoyed a campaign windfall
from the state visit of USSR President Voroshilov (May 6 - May
11) shortly before the elections began. Soviet flags were
flown all along Voroshilov's itinerary, adding by that many to
the number of PKI election posters. Even without the flags,
however, the visit of the Soviet leader would probably have
benefitted the PKI cause.
Understandably, the Communists entered the elections
optimistically; but they also had reason to be concerned, par-
ticularly with respect to the united front, for in Java the
PKI and PNI necessarily competed. NU and Masjumi electoral
support came primarily from groups unlikely to change their
affiliations quickly—the NU relying on kiaji-led villagers in
East Java, Masjumi on the devout Moslems of West Java (as well
as outer island Moslems). Except for the Protestant and
Catholic vote, the PNI and PKI divided most of the rest of the
Java vote between them. By 1957 it was obvious that while the
PKI had expanded its support among both the urban and the rural
electorate, the PNI had lost ground since the 1955 elections.
There were several reasons for the PNI's decline, one
of which was the fact that it was truly a center party, stranded
between the ideological poles of Communism and Islam at a time
when those poles were increasing their force of attraction.
For those who wanted a middle ground ideology, the vague
Marhaenism (Indonesian Proletarianism) had once provided satis-
faction, but it could do so less and less as the demand for
answers to political, economic, and social problems became more
insistent. Much of the politically conscious electorate, in-
cluding younger people within the PNI itself, was angered by
the corruption in the party and by the inadequacy of its leader-
ship. Frustration with the PNI was exacerbated by its failure
to win greater electoral support in 1955, the inability of the
second Ali Cabinet to settle the crises besetting the nation
at the end of 1956, and the failure of Suwirjo to form a new
cabinet. The result was that many who had voted for the PNI
in 1955 lost their faith in the party. When they sought another,
the Islamic parties were automatically excluded on ideological
grounds. Of the major parties, the PKI remained; and it had
much to offer.
Although the PKI concentrated most of its fire on
Masjumi and the PSI, it did not avoid battle with the PNI during
the campaign. Communist attacks were directed at PNI corrup-
tion. The PKI also accused the PNI of being a "half-way group,"
33
See Keng Po, June 16, 1957, for an analysis of the
pre-election situation in East Java. The Keng Po correspondent
correctly predicted that PNI would fall to third place after
NU and the PKI in East Java.89
34
unwilling to choose between the right and the left· it tried
constantly to convince the PNI that its proper place was on
the left. At the same time, Aidit and the Central Committee
were especially solicitous of the PNI outside the campaign
itself.^5 But once the election returns began to appear there
was no stopping the groundswell reaction within the PNI at the
local level.
The first election held was in the special district of
Greater Djakarta, on June 22, 1957. Forty-two parties partici-
pated, some twenty more than in 1955. There were fewer voters
than in 1955, possibly because it was raining that day, a flu
epidemic was just ending, some voters did not receive their
registration cards, and interest was flagging. But approxi-
mately 70 per cent of registered voters turned out, compared
with about 75 per cent in the 1955 elections.56
34
Harian Rakjat, July 4, 1957; in the daily corner
squib, one character (Njoto) asks the other (Aidit) who Soekarno
would vote for, since he was the founder of the PNI but called
himself a Marxist. The answer was that Soekarno would choose
the party which was not "half-way." See also Suara Marhaenis
(PNI party journal), March 31, 1957, p. 29, in which the PNI
replied to attacks by the PKI and NU.
35
Aidit continually spoke of the united front and
national unity during the campaign. He and Sakirman, a top
member of the CCPKI, attended the 30th anniversary celebration
of the PNI in Bandung on July 5, 1957, while someone else read
Aidit's speech to the fifth CCPKI plenary session in Djakarta?
Harian Rakjat, July 4-5, 1957. In an editorial on the PNI
birthday, Harian Rakjat, July 5, noted that unlike Europe,
where socialist parties traditionally existed alongside Com-
munist parties, in Asia the socialists were replaced by nation-
alists. Asian nationalist parties, said the editorial, were
progressive and anti-colonialist—while in Indonesia the PSI
was not. In its anti-colonialism, the PNI meets with the PKI
and NU? more than that, they work shoulder to shoulder. Of
course there were differences between the three parties, but
they were secondary, even tertiary differences compared with
the great principle of anti-colonialism which binds together
the national unity front. The editorial concluded that PKI ex-
perience in its cooperation with the PNI was very good, though
at times not smooth.
See Keng Po, June 23, 1957. The total Djakarta vote
in the parliamentary elections was 766,764? in the Constituent
Assembly elections, 738,890? and in the 1957 council elections,
698,575. Despite what has been said above about this being a
lackadaisical campaign, and despite the interpretation of
Keng Po and a few other newspapers that the people were not as
interested in elections in 1957 as they had been in 1955, it is90
When the results were tabulated, the PKI was seen to
have taken a great leap forward. The total votes in Djakarta
of the ten largest parties, compared with figures from the 1955
elections, were as followsj37
		Constituent	Regional
	Parliament	Assembly	Council
Masjumi	200,460	180,488	153,709
PNI	152,031	173,580	124,955
NU	120,667	124,923	104,892
PKI	96,363	89,612	137,305
PSII	23,245	19,971	22,717
PSI	34,949	27,136	20,089
Parkindo (Protestants)	17,456		17,667	14,583
BaperkiJ°	26,944	23,384	26,642
IPKI	14,586	12,313	9,818
Katolik	7,570	7, 052	7,234
Masjumi	and the PNI had dropped	approximately four and	
two percentage	points respectively from	their parliamentary	
vote; NU bad lost less than one point,		and the PKI	had gained
six percentage	points.Masjumi remained in first		place, but
important to point out that a sizeable proportion of the elec-
torate did turn out. If more were known about the voting beha-
vior of the Indonesian electorate, some tentative conclusions
might be drawn from this fact about the popular evaluation of
the parliamentary system; for if one assumes that parliamentary
democracy had lost its legitimacy in the eyes of the people,
then the question must be answered: why did so many people
cast their votes in the 1957 elections? But even if the legiti-
macy problem were a clear one—which it is not—it remains to
be asked whether elections and the parliamentary system were
obviously related in the public mind. They probably were not,
in which case the size of the vote in 1957 cannot be taken as
a popular judgment in favor of the parliamentary system. It
was certainly not considered to be such a judgment.
37
These figures are from Herbert Feith, The Indonesian
Elections of 1955 (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell Modern Indonesia Pro-
ject, Interim Reports Series, 1958) and Keng Po, July 9, 1957.
38
Badan Permusjawaratan Kewarganegaraan Indonesia (Con-
sultative Body for Indonesian Citizenship), an organization of
Chinese, representing mainly anti-assimilationist views.
39
In the parliamentary elections, Masjumi won 26% of
the vote in Djakarta, the PNI 19.6%, NU 15.7%, the PKI 12%. In
1957, Masjumi received 22%, PNI 17.9%, NU 15%, and PKI 19.6%.
It should be pointed out that Djakarta's population, despite
major influxes of Central Javanese after the revolution, is
mainly (and naturally) from West Java. The West Javanese and
indigenous Djakartans are strongly Islamic and, as is clear from
the above figures, Masjumi-oriented.91
the PKI moved from fourth to second, the PNI from second to
third, and NU from third to fourth. Most other parties remained
more or less the same, though both the PSI and IPKI suffered
heavy losses.40
Newspapers immediately pointed out the shift to the
left. Harian Rakjat headlines claimed the PKI victory was at
Masjumi's expense, but the polls spoke for themselvesj the PNI
had slipped, and the PKI was victorious.41 The results of the
Djakarta election indicated what the trend was going to be in
Central Java, East Java, West Java, and the special district
of Jogjakarta. Political leaders wondered how strong the PKI
would prove to be in those areas, whether the PNI would suffer
most, and if so, whether it would do anything about it.
Central Java was the key region of the PNI-PKI conflict
of 1957. It was an area of strength for both parties, the PNI
having won over 33 per cent of the vote there in 1955 and the
Communists something more than 25 per cent. The large PKI
vote in 1955 had caused local PNI leaders (in East as well as
Central Java) much consternation. When the transitional second
level legislative assemblies were constituted in 1956 on the
basis of party strength in the parliamentary elections, the
PKI assumed majority control of seven areas, including the
regional capital of Semarang.42 consequently tensions between
the two parties were very great. Although Semarang had a PKI
majority in 1955, the mayor of the city was Hadisubeno, the
influential chairman of the Central Java PNI and a member of
40
Only three parties which had also run in 1955 in-
creased their vote in Djakarta in 1957: the PKI, Gerpis
(Gerakan Pilihan Sunda, Sundanese Election Movement), and
Banteng Republik Indonesia (RI Buffalo), the latter two being
West Javanese-based parties. In 1957, the four major parties
received 74.5% of the total vote in Djakarta? in the parlia-
mentary elections they had 73.4%. Thus even with the addition
of 20 more parties in 1957, the major party vote remained
about the same, the tiny newcomers having gained their support
almost exclusively at the expense of the small parties among
the old-timers.
4^See Harian Rakjat, June 24, 1957.
42
The PKI had an absolute majority of council seats in
the municipalities of Semarang, Surakarta, and Salatiga and
in the kabupatens of Bojolali, Klaten, Semarang, and Sukohardjo.
The PNI had majorities in the kabupatens of Banjumas, Pekalon-
gan, Purworedjo, and Sragen. In Bandjarnegara, Pemalang, and
Purbolinggo, the PNI had exactly half the seats. (Legge,
Central Authority, appendix A.)92
the national party council. Between Hadisubeno and the PKI
relations were constantly strained.43
The election in Central Java was held on July 17.
Apparently some PNI leaders were not pessimistic. On election
day# Hadisubeno told the press that the Central Java PNI would
not suffer the decline of the PNI in Djakarta; if it did, he
promised to resign his party chairmanship.44 When he was asked,
however, about rumors of future cooperation between the PNI,
Masjumi, and NU—against the PKI, and in conflict with national
PNI policy—Hadisubeno replied "That's not impossible."45
Over eight million voters, about 85 percent of those
registered, cast their ballots in the province. Although it
was several weeks before the final tabulations were made, the
electoral pattern was clear within a day or two.46 Hadisubeno
and other PNI leaders, one may surmise, were stunned by the
outcome. The total votes for each of the major parties in
Central Java in 1955 and 1957 were as follows:47
43
As mayor, Hadisubeno was able to exercise consider-
able control over the city executive council (DPD), a majority
of whose members were Communists. PKI policy innovations con-
sequently were often frustrated. But in mid-1957, the DPD re-
duced taxes in the major marketplace of Semarang while Hadisu-
beno was on a trip to Bandung. He angrily accused the PKI of
using the city government for its own political benefit, but
to rescind the DPD act was politically awkward. For their part,
PKI leaders in Semarang believed that the PNI had been behind
the razing of squatters' houses in the area, an action that
would be attributed to the PKI city government. See Keng Po,
July 17, 1957.
45
In early July, Suwirjo denied that any meetings had
taken place between Masjumi, NU, and PNI leaders to discuss
cooperation. Keng Po, July 11, 1957.
46
Central Java was divided into two zones for the elec-
tions, which were held a few days apart. Reports of provisional
figures for the two zones can be found in PIA, July 22, 30,
Aug. 3, 7.
47
Compiled from Feith, Indonesian Elections, p. 66,
Legge, Central Authority, p. 150, and the official report of
the Jogjakarta elections from the national committee on elec-
tions. The figures for Parliament and the Constituent Assembly
above include the special district of Jogjakarta. In the par-
liamentary elections, Jogjakarta gave the four major parties
approximately the following support· PNI 207,000 votes, Masjumi
134,000, NU 99,000, and PKI 237,000. See Feith, Indonesian93
PNI
Masjumi
NU
PKI
Parliament
3/019/568
902/387
1/772,306
2,326/108
Constituent
Assembly
3,171,588
892,556
1,822/902
2,305/041
Provincial
Council
2,235/714
714,722
1,771,556
2,706,893
All Central
Java 1957
(including
special
district of
Jogjakarta)
2,400/282
833,707
1,865,568
3,005/150
Here there was no question about where the PKI's gains
had come from· the electoral positions of the PNI and PKI in
1955 were reversed in 1957. In 30 out of the 34 second level
districts of Central Java, the PKI increased its vote propor-
tionally more than any other major party, assuming majority
control of three cities and six kabupatens.48 The PNI retained
majority control of only one kabupaten, Purworedjo. There was
a violent reaction against the PKI in regional PNI circles.
In vain the PKI attempted to treat the election results in
Central Java as it had those in Djakarta; Harian Rakjat pro-
claimed the rise of the PKI and the decline of Masjumi, which
no one considered to be important in Central Java. A day after
the Central Javanese elections began, Aidit reminded party
workers in East Java that their task was to win without damaging
the united front.49
East Java was no happier an experience for the PNI than
Central Java. The PNI was weaker in East than Central Java,
having come in third behind the NU and PKI in the parliamentary
elections, though second (displacing the PKI) in the Constitu-
ent Assembly elections. Since 1955, the PNI organization in
East Java had deteriorated seriously, there being dissension
within its leadership and considerable dissatisfaction among
younger members of the party. Although the real contest in
this province was between the PKI and NU, most attention was
focussed on the position of the PNI; should it suffer a bad
defeat, many expected an anti-Communist alliance to be that
Elections, p. 85. The Jogjakarta election in 1957 was held
several weeks after the rest of Central Java. The results gave
the PNI 164,568 votes, Masjumi 118,985, NU 94,012, and the
PKI 298,257.
ΛΟ
In addition to those which it controlled since 1956,
the PKI added Grobogan and Tjilatjap. See Legge, Central
Authority, appendix A, for a complete list of Javanese second
level districts and a comparison of the composition of their
DPRD's in 1956 and 1957.
49
Harian Rakjat, July 18, 1957.94
much closer. For its part, NU was to some extent worried about
the PKI challenge but was generally confident of its hold on
East Javanese villages.
In fact, all fears of Communist strength were well
founded. Alone of the major parties the PKI increased its
vote—and by the considerable amount of 400,000. The statis-
tics for the major parties follow·50
Parliament
Constituent
Assembly
Provincial
Council
PNI
Masjumi
NU
PKI
2,251,069
1,109,742
3,370,554
2,299,602
2,329,991
1,119,595
3,260,392
2,266,801
1,899,782
977,443
2,999,785
2,704,523
The NU remained in first place, but the PKI had moved within
striking distance.51 The PNI was firmly displaced by the PKI,
and again it seemed likely that a large portion of the PKI's
new support had formerly belonged to the PNI. It also appeared,
however, that the PKI had begun to invade NU territory in the
villages. The PKI won majority control of seven second level
districts, an increase of five; the NU maintained its control
of eight but won no more.52 in Surabaja, a major industrial
city and the provincial capital, the PKI nearly won a majority,
while the PNI vote fell drastically. The Surabaja PNI immediately
50
See Feith, Indonesian Elections, p. 66, and Legge,
Central Authority, p. 150. For provisional figures on other
parties, see PIA, Aug. 7, 1957. In the parliamentary elections,
the four major parties polled 9,030,967 votes; in 1957,
8,581,533 votes. A considerable number of smaller parties in
both elections received over 25,000 votes. The election was
held on July 26.
51
In fact, during the first several weeks of the elec-
tion count it seemed that the PKI would win, Keng Po of Sept. 8,
1957, going so far as to predict that the PKI would get 23
seats to the NU's 20 on the provincial council.
52
In 1956, the PKI had majority control of the cities
of Blitar and Madiun, the latter being the capital of the area
in which the Communist rebellion of 1948 started. In 1957,
the PKI won absolute majorities also in the kabupatens of
Blitar, Madiun, Magetan, Ngawi, and Ponorogo. NU retained
control of the city of Pasuruan and the kabupatens of Pasuruan,
Probolinggo, Panarukan, Bangkalan, Pamekasan, Sampang, and
Sumenep, the latter four making up the entire island of Madura.
See Legge, Central Authority, appendix A.95
53
protested irregularities and demanded a new election. After
considerable wrangling. Minister of Internal Affairs Sanusi
(PNI) ordered a re-election which was held in 1958, when the
PKI came close to an absolute majority.
West Java, where the election was held on August 10,
confirmed the trend. In 1955, Masjumi had emerged as the
largest party of the strongly Islamic area, its greatest sup-
port coming from villages and small cities. The PNI ran
second and the PKI third, the latter showing strength in the
major cities of Bandung and Tjirebon. West Javanese PNI leaders
did not perceive in Islam the threat feared by PNI supporters
in the ethnic Javanese areas of the island; indeed, in some
cases they shared with Masjumi a common antipathy to Communism
based on religious grounds. The coolness of PNI-PKI relations
in West Java challenged the view of those who claimed that the
PNI decline was due entirely to the party’s cooperation with
the PKI. More graphically than in Central or East Java, the
West Javanese elections illustrated the seriousness of the
PNI's plight. Masjumi remained the province's strongest party,
with nearly the same strength as in 1955. NU lost 75,000
votes, but the PNI dropped by nearly half a million, and the
PKI rose by three-fifths of that amount:
Parliament
Constituent
Assembly
Provincial
Council
PNI
Masjumi
NU
PKI
1,541,927
1,844,442
673,552
755,634
1,586,507
1,761,406
692,755
827,858
1,055,801
1,841,030
597,356
1,087,269
Communist strength increased in nearly all of the 23 second
level districts of West Java. A plethora of smaller parties
did about as well as they had in 1955.
By the time South Sumatra went to the polls in December,
the PNI was in a state of boiling internal conflict, as a con-
sequence of the election results in Java. The South Sumatra
statistics are given here to point up the fact that the trend
in favor of the PKI was not limited to Java:
53
The irregularities had involved the failure of the
local election committee in Surabaja, headed by a Communist,
to send election summons to all registered voters. This had
also occurred in Djakarta and Central Java, in areas where
Communists did not head the election committees. See PIA,
Aug. 28, Duta Masjarakat, Sept. 21 and Oct. 3, 1957. Election
irregularities resulted in several re-elections in various
parts of Java. It should be noted in passing that the elec-
tions were marked by a minimum of violence and untoward inci-
dents.96
	Parliament	Constituent Assembly	Provincial Council
PNI	213,766	257,528	187,042
Masjumi	628,386	594,662	553,276
NU	115,938	136,008	113,888
PKI	176,900	168,095	228,965
These elections had been preceded by considerable anti-Communist
activity—in many cases by both civil and military authorities
of the region. In September, a conference of Islamic leaders
in Palembang, the regional capital of South Sumatra, had issued
a strongly worded condemnation of Communism. During the month
before the election began on December 1, anti-Communist pressure
in South Sumatra seemed to take on campaign proportions and was
reported as such in the anti-Communist press.54 The PKI vote
increased nevertheless, possibly because of intensive organiza-
tional activity among South Sumatran oil workers. Perhaps,
too, the PKI had picked up more support among the numerous
Javanese migrants in the area as a result of the regional con-
flict. Whatever the source of Communist support—and some of
it probably came from former Masjumi voters—it had put the
party in second place, behind Masjumi, moving the PNI to third.
The consequences of the Communist election victories
were manifold. For one thing, they exacerbated the suspicions
of the outer island dissidents, making a Djakarta-regions
settlement more difficult. Second, it seems likely that the
rapid rise of the PKI stiffened the determination of some army
leaders to destroy the party system altogether. Third, the
election results may have caused President Soekarno to have
second thoughts about the PKI and how to deal with it. More
immediately, however, the impact of the elections was felt
within the party system itself.
The non-Communist parties offered various explanations
for the PKI's success. Some ascribed it to the moral support
given the party by Soekarno1s demand for a gotong-rojong cabi-
net, to the visit of Voroshilov, or to apathy among voters.55
Others, like Isa Anshary, the West Javanese Masjumi firebrand,
stated bluntly that the PKI had worked harder, while the
54
See Keng Po, Nov. 25, Dec. 1, 1957. At the same
time, anti-Communist activity in West Sumatra was intense and
growing every day. The same was true of several areas in
Sulawesi, where a number of Communist leaders were arrested
late in 1957. As the regional crisis grew worse, anti-Communist
pressure in the regions increased.
55
See, for example, the statement by Mawardi Noor
(Masjumi) in PIA, Aug. 9, 1957; Suara Marhaenis, before the
elections, May 15, 1957, p. 1; Hadji Moh. Soleh (NU) in East
Java, PIA, Aug. 8, 1957.97
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CO98
fighting spirit of the other parties had withered away. Yet
others argued that poor economic conditions and the unsatisfied
demands of the people had given the Communists an advantage.57
There was some serious soul-searching among regional party
leaders following the elections. Natsir Lahay, of the East
Java PNI, said that his party was weak because it was internally
divided, based on cliques which eliminated good and upright men
who did not belong to the right clique or enjoy the right family
connections. He accused the PNI of overweening pride and lazi-
ness, its leaders, intoxicated by wealth, of neglecting their
work among the peasants, forgetting about religion, and failing
to train young cadres.58	south Sumatra, Djalil Abdullah,
regional chairman of Masjumi, pointed out that his party might
have done better had it spent less time attacking the PKI and
more time bettering the living conditions of the people.59
The PKI offered additional explanations. Aidit noted
after the Djakarta election that PKI voters did not seem to be
apathetic, and without belittling the effect of Voroshilov's
visit he insisted that because the PKI was based on the masses
its campaign was original, creative, and inexpensive.θθ "But
the campaign would not be very meaningful if it were not pre-
ceded by continual and concrete deeds of the PKI, if the PKI
did not continually prove the worth of Communist programs and
action, both in representative bodies and among the masses."51
Arguing that the voting shift had been from Masjumi and its
allies to the PKI, Aidit rejected the notion that Masjumi
voters would turn to the NU or at the furthest to the PNI:
"The People's Dynamic does not need a PNI-NU intermediary sta-
tion to go from the Masjumi to the PKI." If the PNI and NU
had lost votes, said Aidit, it was only because they had been
Keng Po, July 11, 1957. Anshary was the leader of
the Front Anti Komunis (FAK), a loosely organized but noisy
group.
57
Darsono in Keng Po, Sept. 9, 1957.
58
Trompet Masjarakat, Aug. 13, 1957.
59
Pedoman, Jan. 15, 1957.
G 0
Aidit, "Rakjat Indonesia Sedang Bergeser Kekiri" (The
Indonesian People are Shifting to the Left), statement of
June 27, 1957, Pilihan Tulisan, II, 189. Of the Voroshilov
visit, Aidit said that the PKI "never ... slighted the mean-
ing of election campaigning." Furthermore, the visit of the
Soviet leader "was a great demonstration of the failure of the
anti-Soviet and anti-Communist policies of foreign imperialists
and domestic reactionaries."99
insufficiently firm in traveling the road of unity and doing
battle with the reactionaries.
At the fifth and sixth sessions of the CCPKI (July 1957
and April 1958), Μ. H. Lukman, first vice chairman, dealt with
the significance of the regional elections for the future of
the PKI. Lukman told the July CCPKI session, a few days after
the Djakarta balloting, that the regional elections would con-
firm the shift to the left indicated by the parliamentary elec-
tions of 1955. The new political balance would accelerate the
implementation of the President's Konsepsi:
Comrades, following this reasoning it becomes more com-
prehensible and we become more convinced that we can prose-
cute the parliamentary struggle, the struggle via elections
for Parliament as well as the DPRD's, not simply as a means
of propaganda, but also as a means of achieveing fundamental
political goals.63
It was no longer impossible for a Communist party to win an
electoral majority, said Lukman. The international balance of
power was favorable—i.e., the Soviet Union was capable of pre-
venting intervention by the imperialists—and the political
consciousness and radicalization of the masses in "certain
countries" (e.g., Indonesia) had risen sufficiently for the
Communist Party to defeat bourgeois parties in both local and
national elections. These were objective factors and therefore
irrevocable.64
With its greatly increased strength in the local legis-
lative assemblies (DPRD) and its full control of eighteen
second level DPRD's in Central and East Java, the PKI could
now undertake activities designed to show the party's sincere
dedication to the people's interests. Lukman paid careful
attention to this aspect of the party struggle in his report
to the sixth plenum of the CCPKI in April 1958.65 He told the
62Ibid., pp. 190-191.
63M. H. Lukman, "Tentang Pemilihan Untuk DPRD" (On the
Elections for the DPRD's), statement to the CCPKI in July 1957,
Bintang Merah (Red Star, Official PKI journal), XIII (March-
April, 1957), 220.
64Ibid., pp. 220-221.
6 5
Lukman, "Gunakan DPRD Untuk Membela Demokrasi dan
Kepentingan Rakjat" (Use the DPRD's to Defend Democracy and the
People's Interests), report to the sixth CCPKI plenary session,
in PKI dan Perwakilan (PKI and Representation, Journal dealing
with parliamentary affairs), III, no. 2 (2nd quarter, 1958),
70-76.100
party that it must assure the implementation of Law 1/1957,
insist on the formation of first, second, and third level
autonomous districts, and obtain for local government the full-
est measure of autonomy. Powers still exercised by the pamong
pradja must be transferred to local authorities; local finan-
cial autonomy must be guaranteed.θθ Lukman urged party members
to study the procedures of local government, to make those pro-
cedures more efficient, and to eliminate corruption.67 Wherever
the PKI was strong, he said, it must make every effort to im-
prove the living conditions of the people. This would have the
effect not only of keeping the party strong in those areas but
also of inspiring other areas where the PKI was weak.®®
In Lukman's otherwise glowing account of the PKI's
electoral successes, the one sour note concerned the united
front. Partly, he explained, the strain in the united front
resulted from "excesses" during the election campaign—e.g.,
PKI attacks on the PNI and NU. But it was especially due,
said Lukman, to the fact that the "middle force" (the PNI par-
ticularly) had suffered a decline. The difficulties which this
placed in the way of strengthening the united front would have
to be overcome.
In fact, however, this had become almost an impossi-
bility by mid-1957. As the last table shows, the PKI emerged
from the regional elections as Indonesia's largest party, at
least in those major areas of the country where elections were
66
The PKI was the leading opponent of the pamong pradja,
the traditional arm of the central government in the regions.
Particularly in Java, the pamong pradja formed a conservative
bulwark over which the PKI had little influence. This was an
important factor in PKI-PNI disunity, for the PNI was by and
large the party of the pamong pradja, upon which the party re-
lied for much of its strength in rural Java. Through Law 1/1957,
the PNI was committed to abolishing the pamong pradja, but its
commitment was reluctant and was to be evaded. Hadisubeno,
chairman of the Central Java PNI, was also chairman of the
pamong pradja employees association in Central Java; he did
not believe the pamong pradja should be done away with.
67
An indication of the importance accorded local govern-
ment by the PKI is the translation, in PKI dan Perwakilan, III,
no. 1 (1st quarter, 1958), 29-48, of Jacques Duclos1 report of
the 14th Congress of the French Communist Party in July 1956,
concerning local government assemblies and the interests of
the working class. Many other articles appeared in PKI jour-
nals on party work in local government.
68Lukman, "Gunakan DPRD," pp. 74-75.101
69
held. The PNI had slipped in less than two years from first
place to third in the five districts considered.70 Masjumi and
the NU had declined, but retained their relative positions in
the provinces. The ominous thing for these last two parties
was less the fact that they had declined slightly than that
the PKI had made such a startling advance. What was most dis-
turbing was that the PKI was the only party to have increased
its support since 1955. It was a growing party, while the
others were apparently shrinking? and all the evidence pointed
to the likelihood of the PKI continuing to grow and the others
continuing to shrink. It seemed highly improbable that the
non-Communist parties could reorganize and recover before the
second national parliamentary elections scheduled for 1959.
It was for this reason that these parties were later to be re-
luctant to hold the 1959 elections.
The conclusion of the regional elections, a parliamen-
tary exercise, called forth a traditional parliamentary response
Menaced by the PKI, the PNI turned against it and made motions
in the direction of an anti-Communist alliance, for which Mas-
jumi and the NU were also eager. In a meaningful parliamentary
situation this might have been immensely significant, producing
a major party realignment as crucial as that which had occurred
in the early 1950's when the PNI and PKI had moved together.
Masjumi, increasingly isolated since the 1955 elections as a
non (ethnic)-Javanese party, might have been able to link
forces with NU and the PNI in a national coalition, in turn
isolating the PKI on the left.
69
The 1958 election statistics for the major parties
in South, East, and West Kalimantan follow, with 1955 parlia-
mentary election figures in parentheses. It will be noticed
that the upward trend of the PKI obtained in Kalimantan too.			
	South Kalimantan	East Kalimantan	West Kalimantan
NU	282,691	18,235	31,703
	(380,874)	(20,795)	(37,945)
PKI	22,283	14,952	17,124
	(17,210)	(8,209)	(8,526)
Masjumi	188,606	29,245	139,741
	(252,296)	(44,347)	(155,173)
PNI	18,566	38,245	62,734
	(46,440)	(43,067)	(64,195)
In the newly created province of Central Kalimantan, NU re-
ceived 23,186 votes, the PKI 16,717, Masjumi 26,470, and the
PNI 18,810.
70
If the figures are based on the vote for second level
DPRD's rather than first level (provincial) councils, including
the districts of Jogjakarta and Riouw, the PNI came in second,
less than 95,000 votes above the NU.102
But in the second half of 1957 the situation was no
longer meaningfully parliamentary. The parties were not in
control of the country. Uncertain of their positions, they
were unwilling to endanger their apparently precarious hold on
the government. The PNI, NU, and the PKI were already begin-
ning to adjust to the new circumstances in mid-1957. While
Masjumi continued recalcitrantly to oppose Soekarno, Guided
Democracy, the National Council, and the Kabinet Karya, the
other major parties came uneasily to terms with them.
The drive towards an anti-Communist alliance following
the regional elections was led mainly by younger party leaders.
But the roots of their concern went deeper than hostility to
the PKI, being fed by general discontent with the party system.
Within the parties, the powerful dissatisfactions aroused in
the lower echelons by the breakdown of parliamentary government
often took the form of contemptuous indignation with the older
party leaders who had proved to be such conspicuous failures.
Only the PKI did not suffer this type of internal reaction.
In the PNI, especially, younger members began openly to con-
demn their party's disorganization and dishonesty; in East
Java, for example, PNI leaders suffered the shock of having
their designs on the governorship (following the regional elec-
tions) revealed by an angry PNI youth group. Moreover, many
young PNI and NU leaders were disturbed by their parties' reac-
tions to Guided Democracy and the events of March-July 1957.
To them it seemed that party leaders had given up without a
fight, sacrificing on the altar of personal ambition and secur-
ity the right of the parties to control a parliamentary govern-
ment. To the argument that the parties had to go along with
the President's ideas in order to weather the storm, a few
younger men evinced skepticism and asked about the place of
principle. In NU, Imron Rosjadi—an untypical member of the
party council and chairman of the NU youth organization, ANSOR—
challenged the party council's unconditional approval of the
Djuanda Cabinet and the National Council, but was voted down.71
Older party leaders were on the defensive against their
young challengers.'2 This was particularly true in the PNI and
71
The NU party council had at first decided that it
could join the cabinet and accept the National Council only if
the latter were accompanied by a National Planning Council led
by Hatta. Once in the cabinet and the National Council, however,
NU leaders—including Idham Chalid, chairman of the party coun-
cil, Wahab Chasbullah, protector (Rois Aam), and S. Zuhri,
secretary-general—publicly supported both bodies. They were
able to get majority support on the party council for their
positions. See Keng Po, June 18, 30, July 11, 1957.
72
This classification of old and young leaders is use-
ful but obviously imprecise. It is used here in a general sense103
NU, though less so in the latter, where the challengers were
fewer and the hold of the older leaders stronger. No movement
actually formed in any of the parties to displace the existing
leadership, hut party leaders may have feared even that as a
possibility. At the same time, both the PNI and NU were
anxious to defend their stake in the government—parliamentary
or not—which Soekarno and the army had the power to threaten.
PNI and NU leaders thus faced something of a double hazard
from within and outside their parties. To a considerable ex-
tent they depended upon Soekarno to help them with their in-
ternal difficulties. By giving him support, or at least not
openly opposing him, they could hope to stay in the government?
and they could also expect reciprocal assistance—which Soe-
karno, because of his great personal prestige and growing
power, could give—in dealing with their own parties.
It is important to emphasize that Soekarno found it
necessary to give this assistance. Despite his condemnation
of the parties for their failure to encourage younger cadres,
the fact remained that he wielded greater influence over the
older leaders than the younger ones. He trusted his ability
to control men of his own generation? of the younger genera-
tion, at least those men in the parties, he was much less
certain.?3 This was a dilemma that Soekarno never really
solved. He continued to attack the parties for growing old,
yet he also continued to prefer their older leaders.
Soekarno's relationship with the PNI was especially im-
portant in the failure of the PNI, NU, and Masjumi to achieve
a workable alliance. The older radical nationalist group in
to differentiate between men who were already mature and polit-
ically active in the 1920's and early 1930's and those whose
major initial political experience came during the late 1930's
or the Japanese occupation or the revolution. The categories
are by no means exclusive? nor should it be assumed that all
older leaders thought the same way and that all youngers were
young Turks. Younger men often were quick to join the cause
of older men, both out of loyalty in a society where age is
considerably respected, and out of simple ambition. It should
be repeated, by the way, that the political origins of most
army officers were during the Japanese occupation or the revo-
lution.
73
The few younger men who were brought into the govern-
ment by Soekarno—those like Chaerul Saleh, Achmadi, and men
of similar inclination—came from outside the parties, or they
were men over whom the President had a strong personal influ-
ence. They attached themselves to him partly because they did
not have the strength of powerful parties behind them? hence
also, in part, their opposition to the party system.104
command of the PNI was quite close to Soekarno. It was this
wing of the party, formerly led hy Sidik Djojosukarto and
Sarmidi Mangunsarkoro (who, however, did not always get along
with the President) which had pushed the PNI towards the PKI
in the interests of weakening Masjumi. Sidik died in 1955 and,
as a compromise between the left wing of the party and a more
moderate group led by former Prime Minister Wilopo, Suwirjo was
chosen to replace him as party chairman in 1956. Sarmidi
Mangunsarkoro, who had begun to regret the "alliance" with the
PKI immediately after the 1955 elections, died in June 1957,
leaving the left wing without a really effective spokesman.74
On the question of the PNI's relations with the PKI after the
regional elections, the older national leaders were as disturbed
by the PNI's decline as were regional party leaders, but this
influenced their reaction less than Soekarno did. Having been
Soekarno's friends and colleagues since the 1920's, older party
leaders could not imagine a PNI which was not close to him.
His influence had been instrumental in moving the PNI towards
the PKI in the early 1950's, and by mid-1957 all other reasons
for the party's shift to the left were subordinated to the
felt need to remain by Soekarno's side and to retain his favor.
The younger group in the PNI was partly inclined to
Wilopo's views and partly not. It was not this that distin-
guished them from the older men. They respected Soekarno, and
they were convinced that both the party and the country needed
him. But they were less inclined than older leaders to tie
the PNI to Soekarno so completely. They did not have the same
faith in the President's willingness to save the party whatever
happened. Having had less experience in the pre-war nationalist
movement and less contact with Soekarno, there was not the same
emotional attachment existing between them and the President.
This difference in view with respect to Soekarno showed strongly
after the regional elections, producing what some called pro-
and anti-Soekarno factions in the PNI./5 There is an element
of truth in this analysis, but few indeed in the PNI were will-
ing to speak out against the President. There were those,
however, who would not follow him, and this brought the party
to grief in its friendship with Soekarno.
Soekarno was unalterably opposed to a PNI-Masjumi-NU
alliance. He was also opposed to an open break between the
PNI and the PKI, for that would divide his primary support
among the parties, possibly forcing him to side with one or the
other. To choose the PKI alone was impossible, though that
party was in many ways his most useful ally. A break between
the PNI and the PKI would also make the PNI less amenable to
74
See Suara Marhaenis, June 30, 1957, p. 17, for
Sarmidi's obituary.
75
See Keng Po, Aug. 25, 1957.105
Soekarno's attempts to instill in it more consistently "pro-
gressive" attitudes. Moreover, for Soekarno, the original
purpose of the PNI-PKI "cooperation"—to isolate Masjumi—was
still valid, for Masjumi was still his worst enemy.
Soekarno had few intimate personal connections with NU
leaders that would automatically induce the party to follow
his lead. But he could depend on the older group within its
leadership—led by Wahab Chasbullah, Idham Chalid, and Zainul
Arifin—to act only at a minimum risk to their political
security. In Djakarta, the NU's opportunism was taken for
granted, so that most politicians, including Soekarno, con-
sidered the party a constant factor. For the most part, it
was.
The fear which beset the non-Communist parties follow-
ing the regional elections drove them a considerable, though
obstacle-strewn, distance along the road to cooperation in
1957. For everyone, the PNI was the main center of interest
with respect to an alliance. Many supposed that the PNI's
"cooperation" with the PKI had helped the Communists in their
rapid climb; it was also supposed that the PNI was in a posi-
tion to change the whole political outlook of Indonesia by
joining forces with the NU and Masjumi against the PKI. The
NU would not risk being isolated on the right with Masjumi
without the PNI. For a time it seemed that these three parties
might erect the frame of a significant alliance—thereby causing
the PKI and Soekarno, for different reasons, some anxiety.
The issues that divided the PNI, NU, and Masjumi, however, were
greater than the pressures for unity.
Regional PNI vs. PKI and the
Posture of the National PNI
Even before all the Javanese elections had ended,
Masjumi, NU, and the PNI were reacting vehemently against the
PKI. Idham Chalid, chairman of the NU executive council, de-
clared in mid-August that the PKI's victories would cast it
into the abyss of its own destruction, for the PNI, Masjumi,
and NU would unite against Communism.76 Masjumi spokesmen
called for immediate measures against the PKI. And, while PNI
leaders in Djakarta were upset but non-committal, regional PNI
leaders levelled a hurricane of abuse at the PKI, deprecating
Communism as atheistic, internationalistic, and totalitarian.
The past PNI-PKI association was regarded as a vicious trick,
^Haluan, Aug. 12,·1957. Idham accused the PKI of
having won the elections by deception, but then unwittingly ad-
mitted Communist strength by saying that the PKI could not win
in a general election against the combined forces of NU, the
PNI, and Masjumi.106
a ruse by which the PKI had hoped to lull the PNI into compla-
cency before slitting its throat. With encouragement from the
anti-Communist press, regional PNI members reasoned that, had
their party recognized the threat from the beginning, the PKI
would never have been permitted to accumulate such strength.77
Nowhere was the PNI regional reaction stronger than in
Central Java, where Hadisubeno assumed the leadership of the
growing party protest and immediately began to round up support
for a total overhaul of party policy towards the PKI. In early
August, twenty-three Central Javanese PNI branches urged the
party executive council to review PNI-PKI relations.78 Almost
as the corollary to rejecting the PKI, PNI regional leaders
turned to the possibility of an alliance with Masjumi and NU.
Here regional PNI views differed. In East and West Java, the
PNI stood to gain much from local anti-Communist alliances but
was unconcerned or wary about a national alliance. In Central
Java, on the other hand, local alliances had less meaning be-
cause of the number of second level districts which the PKI
controlled absolutely. Furthermore, the psychological effects
of defeat were greater in the Central Java PNI than elsewhere,
for this had been the very heartland of PNI power. Hadisubeno
was apparently convinced that the only real hope for salvation
lay in a nationwide alliance that would eventually overwhelm
the PKI.
National PNI leaders were caught on the horns of this
dilemma. The party council was divided between those who
agreed with the Hadisubeno view and those who refused to risk
alienating Soekarno. Within this second group, moreover, there
remained powerful feelings of hostility to Masjumi, which the
latter's resignation from the Ali Cabinet had recently fanned.79
Just after the West Java elections, I. B. P. Manuaba, PNI
secretary-general, attacked Communist totalitarianism and said
that the PNI was ready to cooperate with Masjumi and NU "to
77
For a typical statement of this argument, see Sikap,
Sept. 25, 1957, p. 7. Keng Po, July 27, 1957, found this view
to be particularly prevalent among younger groups in the PNI.
78Keng Po, Aug. 9, 1957.
79
In Suara Marhaenis, July 15-20, pp. 33-35, there is
an interesting "open letter" entitled "Tindakan-Tindakan Masjumi
Menguntungkan P.K.I." (Masjumi1s Steps Profit the PKI), in which
several sources of PNI resentment against Masjumi appear in
the discussion. Ostensibly the point of the article was to
show that Masjumi, by working against the PNI in the past, had
helped to strengthen the PKI. But the policies of Masjumi
Cabinets, the Darul Islam, and Masjumi accusations against
Soekarno are all given emphasis.107
80
firm up democracy in Indonesia." But one day later, Suwirjo
asserted that even if the party council decided to break off
with the PKI, that would not automatically imply that it was
ready to cooperate with Masjumi.θΐ He reiterated the tradi-
tional line that the PNI would cooperate with any party, in-
cluding the PKI, according to what practical political consider-
ations and local circumstances demanded.θ2 This was a flexible
course, one which allowed the party to lean in any direction
with a maximum of adjustability. But that the party was turn-
ing away from the PKI was clear. A week after the West Java
elections, Suwirjo ordered the Jogjakarta branch of the PNI to
withdraw from a vote pooling agreement it had made with the
PKI, an action which caused a considerable stir in the party
world.Suwirjo and Sajuti Melik, a party leader with influence
on
PIA, Aug. 11, 1957. Manuaba accused the PKI of want-
ing a "dictatorial proletarian state," while the PNI upheld
democratic rights and principles. The people, he remarked, must
be made aware of the iniquities of the Communist system. Manuaba
also belittled the significance of past cooperation between the
PNI and PKI, arguing that the PNI had never asked for it (which
was technically quite true, since the initiative was taken by
the PKI in offering support to PNI Cabinets). In Parliament
the cooperation was "mere coincidence." On cooperation with
Masjumi and NU, Manuaba said it was now up to them whether they
were prepared to cooperate.
Before the West Java elections began it was rumored
that the PNI had made up its mind to turn against the PKI and
that the "secret instruction of Sidik Djojosukarto to cooperate
with the PKI had been revoked by the party council. Keng Po,
Aug. 9, 1957.
Q ]
Keng Po, Aug. 13, 1957.
82
Ibid. For a reasoned defense of this policy after
the elections, see Sajuti Melik, "Anggaran Dasar jg. Menentukan,
Bukan Opportunist (a Party Charter that is Firm, Not Oppor-
tunistic!) in Suara Marhaenis, Sept. 15, 1957, pp. 12, 34-35.
83
A vote pooling agreement was intended to pool all
surplus votes remaining after the proportional representation
division. Two minor parties had entered this agreements
Gerinda, with considerable strength in Jogjakarta, and Adari.
The Jogjakarta PNI had long been badly split between its right
and left wings. A battle between them led to the resignation
of the party chairman, Dr. Suwito, leaving the party under the
control of the left, led by Susilo. (Hlkmah, Sept. 14, 1957,
p. 8.) Susilo and his followers were quite close to the local
PKI, a relationship, according to PNI sources, that went back
to the revolution when members of the Susilo group were asso-
ciated with the Communists in the left wing People's Democratic
Front (FDR). See Keng Po, Sept. 5, 1957. The PNI mayor of108
in Jogjakarta (and editor of the weekly Pesat)> denied that
annulment of the agreement meant a priori rejection of coopera-
tion with the PKI; hut Sajuti delivered a gratuitous attack on
Communism/ and the abrogation of the local PNI-PKI arrangement
spoke for itself.
By mid-August, the force of anti-Communist sentiment
within the party forced Suwirjo to call an executive council
meeting on September 6th to discuss future PNI relations with
the PKI. In anticipation of this meeting, Hadisubeno convened
a conference of the Central Java PNI in Semarang on September
1st. The first order of business here was for Hadisubeno to
resign his chairmanship, as he had promised to do if the PNI
lost in the elections, but his immediate re-election had been
carefully pre-arranged. Hadisubeno's strength, despite the
PNI's poor electoral showing, was due partly to his personal
hold on the party but also reflected the strength of anti-PKI
sentiment in the Central Java PNI.88 The second order of
business was nearly as pre-arranged? a strongly worded resolu-
tion was passed declaring that the Central Java PNI could no
longer cooperate with the PKI "because such cooperation is
ideologically damaging and in the past has been a bitter exper-
ience." A local PNI leader said later that the decision was
absolute and that all PNI branches in the region would be
instructed not to cooperate with the PKI in the DPRD's.88
Jogjakarta city, Soedarisman Poerwokoesoemo, was outspokenly
anti-Communist.
Susilo defied the PNI party council, even after the
elections, when he said that he would continue to cooperate
with the PKI. See Sin Po, Jan. 14, 1958. In the Jogjakarta
elections, the PNI lost votes, which the PKI blamed on the abro-
gation of the arrangement with the PKI (Njoto, in Bandung,
Harian Rakjat, Nov. 15, 1957). After the elections, all the
parties in the Jogjakarta DPRD agreed in any case to choose the
independent Sultan of Jogjakarta as regional head, the only
serious choice they had. This goes some way to explain the in-
tricacies of party politics in Jogjakarta, for all parties were
overshadowed by the extraordinary prestige and authority of the
Sultan. See Selosoemardjan, Social Change in Jogjakarta (Ithaca,
N.Y. ϊ Cornell University Press'^ 1962).
84
Antara news bureau, Aug. 22; PIA, Aug. 27, 1957.
85
Keng Po, Aug. 30, 1957. According to this report
there were to be some conditions attached to Hadisubeno's re-
election, but it is not clear what they were.
Q C.
Keng Po, Sept. 2· Kedaulatan Rakjat, Sept. 4, 1957.
Suara Marhaenis, Aug. 30, 1957, p. 5, announced the Central
Java PNI rejection of the PKI before the conference began. This
party organ stayed more or less neutral during the party battle,
but published some anti-Communist items and cartoons.109
87
Hadisubeno declared that the two parties were irreconcilable.
The Semarang conference gave hints, too, of further
probes into other PNI tender spots. A few party members wanted
to review the PNI's position in the cabinet, indicating that
they might be thinking of a new three-party cabinet including
Masjumi. The delicacy of this subject, however, led the con-
ference to leave it and the possibility of a new alliance to
the Djakarta meeting.88 An even more difficult matter was that
the rejection of the PKI, which the political public interpreted
as a slap at Soekarno, raised the whole question of the PNI's
relationship with the President. Disturbed by comments that
the anti-PKI group was also anti-Soekarno, Hadisubeno reaffirmed
his party's belief that Soekarno was needed as head of the
Indonesian state.88
The anti-Communist camp was elated by these develop-
ments; every shred of evidence was adduced of an imminent three
party alliance.88 Masjumi and NU urged the PNI to follow the
lead of its regional branches. Yunan Nasution, a Masjumi party
council member, replied enthusiastically to Manuaba's invita-
tion to cooperate. Playing down past differences between the
two parties, Yunan said that the recent elections had created
a new situation in which all democratic parties faced a "total-
itarian danger."8^ By the end of August it appeared that
Masjumi and NU were waiting only for a firm commitment from
87
Trompet Masjarakat, Sept. 3, 1957.
88
Keng Po, Sept. 2, 1957.
89
Ibid. Hadisubeno denied that the PNI was a docile
follower of Soekarno, as common a stereotype of the PNI as
opportunism was of NU. He went on to say, however, that for
the PNI no other leader had Soekarno's influence over the
people. Groups which wanted to eliminate Soekarno, he said,
actually would bring the Indonesian state to disaster, for the
people would divide without him. Hadisubeno also concurred in
the PNI's defense of the National Council.
90
Actually, however, leaders of the three parties con-
tinued to treat one another with distrust. In late August,
Ali Akbar, a prominent Masjumi MP, said in The Hague that the
chief difficulty in bringing the three parties together was
caused by personal differences between older generation lead-
ers. He did not expect Suwirjo, Natsir, and K. Moh. Dahlan
(NU) to be able to get together (PIA, Aug. 22, 1957). A Keng
Po report of Aug. 12, 1957, observed that so far most of the
pro-PNI-Masjumi-NU alliance activity had been via the press.
91Keng Po, Aug. 12, 1957.110
the PNI. The PNI conference to be held in September 1957 was
therefore regarded as being immensely important. Many assumed
that if the PNI came out strongly against the PKI, it could
fulfill the conditions for a three party alliance. This might
set the stage for a revival of the party system by the parties'
uniting to assert their leadership in resolving the regional
crisis and to resist Soekarno's attack on parliamentary demo-
cracy. But most Djakarta politicians were skeptical that the
PNI would come through, for they correctly judged that the
party's leaders would not imperil their relations with the
President by publicly rejecting the PKI. Indeed, Soekarno had
already indicated his displeasure with the PNI's position at
its anniversary in early July, when he challenged party members
to compare themselves as they were now with the young and dedi-
cated radicals they had been in 1927.92 No doubt this greatly
strengthened the position of those who argued that the PNI must
do nothing further to irritate Soekarno.
The party executive council and PNI cabinet ministers
met in Suwirjo's home on September 6th and 7th. Precisely what
transpired is not clear, but the meeting's conclusions are a
fascinating study in equivocation, reflecting the disparate
pulls on the party. Although on the surface the older national
PNI leaders had their way, the decisions were in fact more com-
plicated than that.
With regard to the central issue of relations with the
PKI, the conference resolution reaffirmed the policy of cooper-
ation with all parties and groups "in matters not conflicting
with the goals of the party." But the meeting also declared
that "it understands the thoughts and feelings of [the regional
PNI] towards the PKI, as for example those recently expressed
by the regional council of the Central Java PNI."93 Hadisubeno
was not completely satisfied with this, and in late October he
said that the party conference did not alter the Central Java
PNI's absolute stand against cooperation with the PKI. At the
same time, however, he remarked that there was only the appear-
ance of differences between the regional and national PNI con-
cerning the Communists, for really the spirit of regional
demands was confirmed by the party council decision. The
apparent difference, he explained, was due to the dissimilarity
of decision making procedures between the regional branches
and the national party council; in Djakarta the party council
92
See "Shaping and Re-shaping Indonesia," in Ministry
of Information, Dewan Nasional (National Council), 1957, pp.
82-118; in translation as Marhaen and Proletarian (Ithaca,
N.Y.: Cornell Modern Indonesia Project, Translation Series,
1960).
93
For the full resolution of the meeting see Suara
Marhaenis, Sept. 15, 1957, pp. 4-5.Ill
had to consider extra-party conditions and influences—which
was perfectly true.94
It appears that PNI leaders chose a double-harreled
approach to their multiple targets. They resolved the contra-
dictory pressures working on the party by leaving all political
doors open on the one hand/ and on the other agreeing within
party circles to wage war on the PKI. As a free agent, the
PNI could pick and choose among the myriad political possi-
bilities of 1957. The mood of Suwirjo and other national PNI
leaders was to sit tight and wait for things to develop on
most issues, particularly those, like Guided Democracy, in
which the palace was intimately involved. But with respect to
the PKI, regardless of the latter's attempts to prove that PNI
doctrine still accepted Communist cooperation,95 in the real
world the PNI's main concern after the 1957 elections was to
eliminate the threat which the PKI posed.^6 Thus the PNI would
do all it could to damage the PKI, but there would be no offi-
cial denunciation of the Communists; nor would there be a
formal alliance with NU and Masjumi, the latter remaining out
in the cold on all issues except Communism.
The trouble with this approach was that for all the
other problems with which the PNI had to deal it was consist-
ently neither here nor there. By choosing the middle of the
road on most issues in 1957 the PNI put itself—perhaps
94Keng Po, Oct. 31, 1957.
95
Aidit praised Suwirjo for sticking to the old policy,
implying that so long as nationalist goals remained anti-
colonialist and anti-imperialist, progressive groups would not
be afraid that the PNI might prostitute itself (Antara, Oct. 31,
1957). In November, Njoto, the third man in the party hier-
archy, said in Bandung that the PKI was aware that some PNI and
NU leaders opposed cooperation with the PKI, but they were in
a minority, and the official policies of the two parties re-
mained "national and democratic"—i.e., they continued to ac-
cept cooperation with the PKI (Harian Rakjat, Nov. 15, 1957).
96
This interpretation of PNI policy after the September
meeting is supported by an editorial in the daily Merdeka, an
independent nationalist Djakarta newspaper. Suara Marhaenls
reprinted the editorial, September 15, 1957, on the same page
on which the conference decision was reported. Merdeka noted
that there was no sharp switch in PNI policy, but quoted the
resolution on regional party sentiments against the PKI as
evidence that the PNI was aware of the problem. The newspaper,
itself following a strong pro-Soekarno and anti-PKI course,
implied that the PNI would soon overcome the PKI menace, even
though the approach would not be in the form of a "new look"
in official party policy.112
unavoidably—in an awkward position, because it was not strong
enough to play a leading role either in the government or among
the parties. Abdicating any initiative itself, it left every-
one uncertain of how it would react to other initiatives. It
did not unite the party either, for some groups chose to empha-
size the pro-Soekarno leanings of the strategy, others the
anti-PKI. Wavering along this precarious route, the PNI ended
up by alienating Soekarno, achieving little against the PKI,
confusing the other parties, and finally giving up the last
vestiges of what political initiative remained to it.
Uncertainty about PNI policy, following the September
conference, did not diminish the excitement over a possible
PNI-Masjumi-NU alliance. PKI leaders did not stop courting
the PNI, though their tone became sharper after the elections.
Aidit held the PNI to its profession of support for Soekarno
and the Konsepsi, and he also warned that without the Communists
the nationalists would be weak, without initiative, and devoured
by the reactionaries—a remark that angered many in the ΡΝΙ.θ?
On the other hand, the PKI continued to interpret its electoral
success in a modest light· local Communists were urged not to
respond in kind to PNI attacks.
Masjumi, NU, and other anti-Communist parties continued
to prod the PNI into clarifying its position.The PNI1s own
activities seemed to encourage the hope that a meaningful
alliance might yet materialize. Particularly in the elections
of regional executive councils and regional executives, an
effective collaboration appeared to be in the making.
Regional PNI-Masjumi-NU Cooperation
PNI-Masjumi-NU cooperation was already apparent during
the regional election campaigns in West Java and South Sumatra.
Masjumi party workers in West Java were instructed to campaign
not only for Masjumi but for all "democratic parties"· Masjumi
and the PNI both used the slogan "If you don't want to see
[another Madiun Affair] elect the PNI or Masjumi."θθ In South
Sumatra, PNI-Masjumi collaboration, in the form of an agree-
ment not to attack one another, was more uneasy than in West
Java and more clearly the result of concern over election
97
Harian Rakjat, Oct. 22-23; Antara, Oct. 31, 1957.
98
H. A. Achalen, an NU parliamentary leader, said in
October that the sole condition for an alliance between the
religious parties and the PNI was that the latter clearly revoke
all its ties with the PKI. Java Bode, Oct. 28, 1957.
99
This was reported by Muttaquien, chairman of the Mas-
jumi youth organization, GPU; Keng Po, Aug. 13, 1957.113
100
trends in Java.	It was during the post-election period/
however, that regional cooperation between the non-Communist
parties took on the greatest significance, fairly threatening
to nullify the PKI's election victories. But there were two
distinct purposes in this cooperation: to limit the PKI's
benefit from the election, and to retain for the other parties
influential positions in local government despite the outcome
of the elections. These motives varied in intensity from
district to district, reducing the effectiveness of the
cooperation.
Several regional PNI, Masjumi, and NU branches through-
out Java arrived at understandings to collaborate in electing
DPRD chairmen, executive councils (DPD), and regional execu-
tives (kepala daerah).101 In West Java, the three parties and
the PSII signed a secret document, the Sukadjadi agreement,
binding them to cooperate in preventing the PKI from getting
the positions of DPRD chairman and kepala daerah in second
level districts. Elsewhere provincial party leaders worked out
their collusion less dramatically. The cooperation got off to
a triumphant start in Djakarta, where PNI and Masjumi leaders
agreed to support Mayor Soediro (PNI) for re-election and to
choose a Masjumi candidate, Abdullah Salim, as chairman of the
council. According to party strength in the DPRD, the PKI,
with eight seats, might have expected the vice-chairmanship of
the council, but it was given instead to Parkindo (Protestants),
which had only one seat in the DPRD. In other areas of Java
it seemed initially that the cooperation would work equally
well.
See Pedoman, Oct. 14-15, 1957. NU also apparently
participated in the South Sumatran agreement, but it played an
incidental role, and general interest was focussed on the PNI
and Masjumi. The cooperation was favored in the PNI by only
one faction, led by Nawawi Saleh, which took a strong region-
alist stand against Djakarta. On the factional split in the
South Sumatran PNI, see Pedoman, April 20, Aug. 13 y Suara
Rakjat, July ly Keng Po, Aug. 15, 1957y Pedoman, Jan. 10, 1958.
The other PNI faction inclined to neutrality in the regional
crisis.
^The DPRD's selected their own chairmen and other
officers and nominated the kepala daerah by majority vote. The
DPD was also elective, but its four or five seats were dis-
tributed according to party strength on the DPRD. Within the
councils the parties bargained for positions. Only when a
single party controlled a majority of the DPRD could it do as
it pleased, but it would normally avoid difficulties for its
administration, which a solid bloc of opposition could cause,
for example, by boycotting sessions and preventing a quorum.
See Legge, Central Authority, pp. 151 ff.114
The PKI's response was cautious and diplomatic. Its
strategy was to divide either the PNI or NU from Masjumi by
appealing to individual ambitions. Thus the PKI offered un-
deserved DPD seats to the PNI or NU, supported their candidates
for kepala daerah or DPRD chairman, and often humbly withdrew
its own candidacy in favor of one of those two parties. Local
PNI leaders were the chief focus of these ministrations, but
the NU served the purpose in a pinch. Legge has pointed out
that in the elections of kepala daerah there was no obvious
pattern of alliances.There was one consistent factor,
however:	the PKI's search for weak links in the PNI-Masjumi-NU
collaboration.103 its more than occasional success accounts
in good part for the lack of uniformity in local party alliances
PNI and NU leaders at the provincial level were not always
able to keep second level branches in line. Party chiefs in the
kabupaten were often primarily concerned with purely local in-
terests, and where this was the case an opening existed for a
PKI wedge. In Tjirebon city, for example, the PKI undercut the
anti-Communist cooperation by supporting the eager NU for the
kepala daerah po s t. 1 θ 4
Where the PKI controlled a majority of DPRD seats, it
was circumspect in pressing its rights. The Communists were
later accused of abdicating responsibility in order to avoid
the blame for inevitable deficiencies in local government, but
Legge has shown this to be untrue. In 13 out of the 18 Javanese
kabupaten which it controlled, the PKI did make one of its own
men kepala daerah, thereby assuming full responsibility in
102Ibid., p. 152.
103
An example of an unsuccessful PKI effort was the
kepala daerah election in Bandung kabupaten, where the PNI
pledged its support to the Masjumi candidate. The PKI nominated
a PNI member for the position, hoping to force the PNI to with-
draw from its agreement with Masjumi. The PNI nominee obeyed
his party, however, and would not stand. See Keng Po, Nov. 11,
1957. Thereafter the PKI shifted its support to the IPKI can-
didate, supported also by GERPIS, Murba, GPPS, PRIM, and other
minor parties. But the Masjumi candidate, Oja Soemantri, was
elected by the PNI, NU, PSII, PSI, and Masjumi. Keng Po, Feb.
2, 1958.
104
Keng Po, Feb. 4, 1957. The candidate of the NU (2
DPRD seats) was supported by the PKI (5), PRIM (1), and Baperki
(1), the latter being an association of Indonesian Chinese
which nearly everywhere voted with the PKI. The PNI (3) was
supported by Masjumi (2) and P3RD (1). The P3RD represented
police officials. In Tjirebon kabupaten the PNI-Masjumi-NU
front held. See Keng Po, Nov. 11, 1957.115
those districts.	But in some cases the PKI majority offered
the kepala daerah position to the PNI or to NU in the interests
of keeping Masjumi isolated. The PNI-Masjumi-NU combination
held successfully as often as not. There were instances of
the three parties boycotting DPRD sessions completely# as in
Semarang city where the PKI majority elected a PKI kepala
daerah, or forcing the PKI to run the local government alone
pending Djakarta decisions on demands for re-elections. But
there were failures too. In several districts of Central Java--
including Temanggung, Salatiga, Sukohardjo, and Sragen—local
PKI and PNI branches concluded cooperation agreements; Hadisu-
beno tried, not always successfully, to order the PNI to with-
draw from these arrangements.Ιθθ
At the provincial level in Central Java, PNI, Masjumi,
and NU leaders agreed to support Hadisubeno's own candidacy for
kepala daerah (governor) and to divide the remaining positions
among them. z The PKI would gladly have supported any PNI
candidate but Hadisubeno for governor, but it had little choice
in the matter and in early 1958 he was elected by acclamation.
Iman Sofwan of the NU was elected chairman of the provincial
DPRD, with a PNI vice-chairman. In the DPD election, the PKI
disagreed with the voting procedure and left the session, which
then proceeded to distribute the five DPD seats one each to the
PNI, NU, Masjumi, Buruh (Labor), and ΡΚΙ.10θ Thus the PKI,
largest party of Central Java, received next to nothing in the
way of provincial leadership positions.
105
See Legge, Central Authority, p. 151.
TOG
See Harian Rakjat, Nov. 11, 1957. Hadisubeno was
at pains to deny that there was any PNI-PKI cooperation in
Central Java. Of Sragen, where he was unable to control the
local PNI leaders, he said that the PNI took positions away
from the PKI—which supported the PNI candidates—and that it
was therefore hardly cooperation (Keng Po, Oct. 31, 1957). For
vivid accounts of instances of PNI-Masjumi-NU cooperation against
the PKI, see PKI dan Perwakllan, III, no. 1 (1st quarter, 1958),
51-52, a report by Sukardi on Tulungagung, East Java; and
Nungtjik A. R., "Dua Pengalaman dari Daerah" (Two Experiences
from the Regions) in ibid., III, no. 2 (2nd quarter, 1958),
77-83. PKI counter tactics are also clear from the articles.
107
See Keng Po , Oct. 2 and Nov. 5, 1957, for a detailed
discussion of pre-DPD election politics in Central Java.
PIA, Jan. 4, 1958. The division of seats in the
DPRD was as follows; PKI 24, PNI 20, NU 16, Masjumi 8, Buruh
2, Catholics 2; PSII, Baperki, Permai, 1 each; and a few other
minor parties and individual candidates combined, 1.116
Although regional PNI-Masjumi-NU cooperation continued
through the early months of 1958, it was limited mainly to local
interests and did not overcome differences with respect to
national issues. The three parties agreed consistently in their
opposition to the PKI; anti-Communist statements became more
vitriolic with practice. Some local NU branches branded Com-
munism as haram (forbidden), and in November 1957 the East Java
PNI followed Central Java's lead in vehemently rejecting all
cooperation with the ΡΚΙ.Ιθθ But only in Central Java was the
PNI interested in a national alliance. The West Java PNI,
under the leadership of Osa Maliki, worked actively against
such an alliance, with the encouragement of Suwirjo. In Sep-
tember and October, while PNI-Masjumi-NU local cooperation was
in the making, West Javanese PNI leaders undertook to form a
united center Peace Front against the PKI and Masjumi-PSI ex-
tremes. Those parties were to be excluded entirely because
their conflicts "obstructed political harmony."HO The effort
was unsuccessful, as were others that followed, but it reflected
the desire of most PNI (and NU) leaders for a comfortable
center alliance—which existed inchoately in the Kabinet Karya—
led by the PNI and NU and excluding the troublemakers, Masjumi
and the PKI.
The Failure of National PNI-Masjumi-NU Cooperation
Those who anticipated a major shift to the right in
1957 were encouraged by the limited three-party collaboration
in the regions. But there was in fact no national cooperation
between the major non-Communist parties, for the PNI and NU
were too uncertain of their positions and consequently unwill-
ing to take risks.
After August, the regional crisis dominated the head-
lines, pushing political party issues into the background and
displaying in stark relief the weakness of parliamentary insti-
tutions. President Soekarno and the army assumed the extra-
parliamentary initiative in dealing with the regions. The,
parties seemed to stand on the sidelines, occasionally trying
to lend a hand. At one point in late 1957 a group of MPs pro-
posed that Parliament mediate the dispute between the regions
and Djakarta, as if that body were an objective neutral. Par-
liament's Committee of Nine, whose task it was to reconcile
Soekarno and Hatta, did not have a fraction of the importance
of, nor did it attract the same attention as, the Committee of
Seven, appointed by the National Conference to work out the
army's political problems. The reorientation of the parties
109Keng Po, Nov. 5, 1957.
HOputa Masjarakat (NU Djakarta daily), Sept. 30; Sin
Po, Oct. 17r Kedaulatan Rakjat, Oct. 19, 1957.117
within this new political framework was accomplished only with
considerable strain.
For the PNI it was particularly trying. Among national
PNI leaders there was a growing feeling of discomfort at
Soekarno's disgust with the party for its conservative softness
and vacillation. The September party council meeting did not
clarify the party's strategy towards the PKI. Nothing approach
ing an official PNI attack on the Communists appeared until
November, when Selamat Ginting, a PNI MP from North Sumatra,
accused the PKI of complicity in a revolt of village guard unit
in North Sumatra in early October.m Ginting's vituperative
fire swept the entire field of Communist activities. This
speech caused some speculation among capital city politicans,
for officially the PNI seemed still to accept the PKI as an
ally. Ginting told the press that the PNI party council had
not only approved his speech but assumed responsibility for
it.112
Such assurances of PNI hostility to the PKI did not
dispel the doubts of Masjumi and NU, however, and they did not
bring an anti-Communist alliance any nearer fruition. For
what was really demanded of the PNI was concrete evidence of
its willingness to cooperate not only on the Communist problem
but also, and perhaps more importantly, on other outstanding
issues before the state. Masjumi, threatened with permanent
isolation, sought agreement on the regional crisis above all
and also on the issues posed by Guided Democracy. An under-
standing to gang up on the PKI would not solve these problems.
NU leaders regarded the prospect of a three-party alliance in
similar terms but from a different perspective: unless the
PNI, Masjumi, and NU could agree on the other major issues,
NU was not going to imperil its position within the government
by supporting Masjumi. Just before the PNI meeting of Septem-
ber 6th-7th, Wahab Chasbullah, the NU's official elder states-
man, declared that the purpose of any three party cooperation
would be "on the one hand for very pressing state and national
interests, and on the other to deal with the PKI." Among the
"pressing interests," he mentioned the President's Konsepsi
and the regional crisis, both of which he insisted must be
l^Ichtisar Parlemen, session of Nov. 11, 1957, pp.
879-887.
112
Keng Po, Nov. 12, 1957. Suara Marhaenis, Nov. 30,
1957, pp. 10-12, published parts of the speech. Ahem Erning-
pradja, a PNI labor leader and MP who was also a member of the
National Council, praised Ginting's attack on the PKI and said
that it had the full support of the party. He also called
attention to another anti-PKI volley by Doedi Soemawidjaja, a
PNI MP from West Java. Abadi (Masjumi Djakarta dailv),
Nov. 13, 1957.118
settled first before cooperation between the three parties could
get underway.in effect, Wahab was saying that the parties
must agree to face the challenge to party government unanimous-
ly· otherwise, NU would make its own peace with the new order,
leaving Masjumi to suffer out of power.
Here the PNI gave only occasional encouragement to the
other parties. On the regional crisis it moved away from the
PKI in 1957, but primarily towards the middle-of-the-road. The
PKI's interest in an uncompromising outlawing of the anti-
communist regionalists was as clear as was Masjumi's in a com-
promise favorable to its outer island strongholds. But although
the dominant Javanese elements in both the PNI and NU felt
threatened by outer island hostility, neither party had any-
thing to gain from civil war· both inclined towards peaceful
settlement, but without a firm commitment to correcting the
Djakarta-outer islands political and economic imbalance. Both
parties gave their full support to the National Conference and
refused to join the PKI in hurling epithets at regional lead-
ers.	The anti-Communist press contrasted the common senti-
ment of the PNI, NU, and Masjumi in favor of peaceful settle-
ment with the PKI's tough policy.^5 a stand favoring recon-
ciliation was not problematic for the PNI, however, because
nearly everyone, including Soekarno, seemed to want a peaceful
solution of the crisis.
On another issue connected with the regional situation,
that of Hatta's position, the PNI knew Soekarno's views and
in following them moved away from Masjumi and (to a lesser
extent) NU. Soekarno did not want Hatta back in the govern-
ment, but if he had to make way for him it would be as Vice-
President, or chairman of a planning council, or some other
suitably symbolic position? he was not going to allow Hatta to
be prime minister, as Masjumi and many others were demanding.
Public discussion of Hatta's possible return to the government
became lively again after he and Soekarno signed their non-
committal statement at the National Conference in September.
In Central Java Hadisubeno openly favored Hatta as prime minis-
ter, assuming perhaps that Masjumi would be invited to join
the cabinet along with the PNI and NU, while the PKI and even
those left-wing ministers already in the Kabinet Karya would
113Abadi, Sept. 5, 1957.
114
In August, the PNI secretary-general, Manuaba, in
attacking the PKI, noted that the PNI had never condemned the
regionalists as "separatists." He also said, however, that it
was possible that separatist elements were taking advantage of
the regional situation (PIA, Aug. 9, 1957).
115See Keng Po, Aug. 12, 1957.119
116
be excluded.	Other PNI support for a Hatta Cabinet came
from several members of Parliament and a few party council
members.117 But Suwirjo was reluctant, fearing that PNI support
of Hatta would further estrange Soekarno, and other party
leaders agreed. In October Suwirjo attended a West Java PNI
conference which issued a resolution declaring, with remarkable
caution, that the regional branch was not opposed to Hatta1s
returning to the vice-presidency.ϋθ This wording was most
likely for bargaining purposes with "pro-Hatta" PNI leaders
when the party council took up the issue. On November 22nd
the PNI executive council decided to support Hatta for vice-
president, a short compromise away from the West Javanese PNI
position. Suwirjo said later that the possibility of Hatta
becoming prime minister was "not yet a problem for the ΡΝΙ."ϋθ
Again the attachment to Soekarno determined PNI policy,
and again the party fell between two stools. For what it gained
in its relations with Soekarno by opposing a Hatta premiership,
it lost by working for a Hatta vice-presidency. The PNI com-
bined with Masjumi, NU, and several minor parties in Parliament
to form the Committee of Nine to help restore the Soekarno-
Hatta Dwitunggal; its chairman was Ahem Erningpradja of the
PNI. The PKI, on the other hand, stood consistently against
Hatta, just as it stood consistently with Soekarno on nearly
116
See Keng Po, Oct. 12, 1957.
117
Soetojo Martodimoeljo, an MP and former secretary-
general of the PNI, claimed that many in the PNI favored Hatta
as Prime Minister, including himself and Ahem Erningpradja
(Keng Po, Nov. 21, 1957). Those in the PNI who wanted a Hatta
Cabinet carefully avoided casting aspersions on Djuanda—as
nearly everyone did. The implication was always that a Hatta
Cabinet would restore national unity, which the Djuanda Cabinet
could not do, despite Djuanda's many other admirable qualities.
But if a Hatta Government did not materialize, no one in the
PNI, including Hadisubeno, wanted to jeopardize the party's
position in the Kabinet Karya.
118
Trompet Masjarakat, Oct. 9, 1957. Kosasih, deputy
chairman of the PNI in West Java, said afterwards that the
difference of views between the West and Central Java PNI
branches on the Hatta question would be settled by the national
party council (PIA, Oct. 17, 1957). This makes it seem likely
that PNI leaders in Djakarta encouraged the West Java branch
to take this stand on Hatta in order to force the issue into
the national party council, whose decision all regional party
leaders would have to obey.
119Keng Po, Nov. 26, 1957.120
120
every other issue in 1957.	It is clear why Soekarno should
have found the PKI a more trustworthy ally than the PNI, which
he would otherwise have preferred.
It is also clear why Masjumi and NU could not trust the
PNI. But non-Communist disunity was not only a matter of PNI
vacillation. It was also a major fact of Islamic party life/
which is why a Masjumi-NU alliance was impossible without the
full involvement of the PNI.
The reaction which the regional elections aroused in
NU hearts at first drove the party towards Masjumi/ a natural
anti-Communist ally. Rumors were current in mid-1957 that the
Islamic parties would unite to defend the Faith against the
threat of atheistic Communism. NU had joined with Masjumi,
the PSII, and several secular parties in rejecting Soekarno's
four-party cabinet proposal, and later it had refused Suwirjo's
invitation to join a cabinet without Masjumi. NU leaders felt
that Masjumi must be included in the Government if it was to
deal effectively with the regional crisis.121 in addition,
however, it is likely that they also wanted a Masjumi buttress
against the PKI, and perhaps against the influence of Soekarno.
Despite Masjumi-NU hostility, many NU leaders had usually re-
lied to some extent upon the guidance of the better educated
and more broadly experienced Masjumi leaders, and they were
reluctant to stand entirely alone in the Government without a
Masjumi partnership.122 The Kabinet Karya cut this gordian
120
For a comment by Aidit on Hatta, see Harian Rakjat,
Oct. 22, 1957. Aidit said that what was important was the
policy not the man, a formula which he applied to Hatta but
not to Soekarno. The policy, he said, should be implementation
of the President's Konsepsi.
121
Deliar Noer, "Masjumi" (MA thesis, Cornell Univer-
sity, 1960), p. 392. Noer's comment is based on an interview
with K. Η. M. Dahlan of the NU.
The NU did enter the first Ali Sastroamidjojo Cabinet
without Masjumi, though apparently there was some feeling then
that it should not do so. See Feith, Decline of Constitutional
Democracy, p. 338. I do not think this changed the discomfort
of older NU leaders with governmental responsibilities, nor did
it breed in them confidence that they could handle the political
threats posed later by the PKI and, more generally, by Soekarno.
Some Masjumi leaders continued to exert an influence over vari-
ous NU party council members, even after the Kabinet Karya was
established, providing guidance in situations which NU leaders
were not uniformly adept at assessing. The limited intellec-
tual and political leadership resources of the NU was given
something of a commentary by Idham Chalid during the election
campaigns in mid-1957, when he pointed out with bravado that121
knot# however/ for not only did it exclude the PKI but it also
permitted NU participation on an individual basis, thus re-
lieving the party of responsibility for government policy.
And once in the cabinet, NU leaders were extremely reluctant
to risk being pushed out of it again? Masjumi* 1s religious ap-
peals could not easily overcome this.123
There was a long-standing desire in Islamic circles to
unite the ummat, particularly among younger members of the
Islamic parties who did not share the political grudges of
their elders. But it had been political reasons that divided
NU from Masjumi in 1952, however, and it was political differ-
ences that were likely to keep the parties apart, religious
affinities notwithstanding. Both NU and Masjumi leaders stated
in mid-1957 that a fusion of Islamic parties was not possible.124
Some, like Wahib Wahab of the NU, gave religious doctrinal dif-
ferences as the reason, but few believed this issue to be
important.125 Although leaders of the two parties were willing
to speak of a federation of Islamic parties, this came to
only the kiaji group in Indonesia had never been given an oppor-
tunity to lead the government (Duta Masjarakat, Aug. 6, 1957).
The statement probably caused Djakarta intellectuals some mirth
at this basic plight of the NU.
123
Masjumi also appealed to NU economic interests. In
attacking the political and economic decline under the Kabinet
Karya, the Masjumi leaning weekly, Hikmah, X, no. 32 (Sept. 7,
1957), 23, noted that generally the Indonesian Islamic community
was not a civil servant group but a trading and entrepreneurial
group. As a result of the Cabinet's economic policies, said
Hikmah, these trading groups were suffering considerably. From
this the argument led to the need for political unity among the
Islamic parties in order to protect their interests, to defend
the Faith, and to smash Communism.
1^^See statement of Kasman Singodimedjo (Masjumi), Duta
Masjarakat, July 23, 1957? Ahmad Siddiq (NU), Duta Masjarakat,
July 11, 1957.
125
Kedaulatan Rakjat, July 15, 1957. There were doc-
trinal differences between the two parties that their members
sometimes emphasized? Masjumi followed a modernist interpreta-
tion of the law which NU members found uncongenial, and of
course the whole modernist Islamic approach was discomfitting
for NU leaders. See Hikmah, X, no. 33 (Sept. 14, 1957), 23,
for a Masjumi denial that doctrinal differences prevented
fusion of the parties. These differences, said the article,
were insignificant compared with the binding force of Islamic
ideology, especially in the face of the Communist threat.122
nothing because of NU-Masjumi competition for control of it.
The Moslem League, a loose federation consisting basically of
the NU, PSII, and Perti, had been in ineffectual existence for
years, dating from NU's withdrawal from Masjumi. Dominated by
the NU, it had little to offer Masjumi.
The essential difference of political interest between
Masjumi and NU in 1957 was emphasized by the national Congress
of alim ulama (Islamic religious leaders) held early in Septem-
ber in Palembang. Masjumi had taken the initiative in organiz-
ing this Congress, and it was clear beforehand that it would
become a forum for both anti-Communist and anti-Djakarta
views.All Islamic organizations were invited in the hope
that a solid Islamic front might be created, but mixing the
goals of the Congress was politically disastrous. Knowing that
it could not control the meeting, and unwilling to associate
itself with Sumatran regionalist opinion, NU shied away. A.
Zuhri, NU secretary-general, warned the Congress against play-
ing with the destructive fire of political questions, and NU
refused to send an official delegation.127 As expected, the
alim ulama meeting launched a vehement attack on Communism,
declaring it haram for Moslems and demanding that the PKI be
banned. But it also displayed a distinctly "opposition" flavor,
many of its participants calling for a new cabinet and aboli-
tion of the National Council.128 Masjumi afterwards stressed
the significance of the Congress, but NU was compelled to side
with the PKI in condemning it, albeit for different reasons.129
126
A leading organizer of the Congress was the West
Javanese Masjumi leader, Isa Anshary, one of Masjumi's most
fervent supporters of the Islamic state. Moderate Masjumi
leaders, such as Natsir, Roem, Prawoto, and Sukiman, were usu-
ally dismayed by Anshary, but they could not control him.
127
Duta Masjarakat, Sept. 6, 1957.
128
See Muktamar Ulama se-Indonesia di Palembang, the
report of the Congress, in a special number of the monthly,
Daulah Islamyah (edited by Isa Anshary), no date. The meet-
ings lasted from September 8 to 11.
129
At the end of October, the Moslem League secretary,
H. Sofjan Siradji, said that the League would vote to condemn
the decisions of the alim ulama congress (Harian Rakjat,
Oct. 31, 1957). M. Sjafei, a South Sumatran PSII leader, cen-
sured the alim ulama meeting and invited the PKI to exchange
ideas on uniting the Indonesian people against colonialism.
See Sin Po, Oct. 2, 1957. He was somewhat outside the normal
course of PSII public thinking, but the party leadership
generally was intent on making itself secure and avoiding con-
tamination by Masjumi.123
Soon after the Palembang meeting, the Masjumi and NU
youth organizations, GPU and Ansor, led by Mattaquien and Imron
Rosjadi respectively, took the initiative in trying to call a
conference of all Islamic parties to promote unity.130 Leaders
of the several Islamic parties expressed pro-forma approval
of the effort to unite Indonesian Islam, but there was in fact
little non-Masjumi support for the move. NU leaders perceived
it as another attempt to force their party into a closer polit-
ical association with Masjumi. Arguing that such a conference
would not profit Islam, Wahab Chasbullah made the amazing
assertion that a display of unity among Moslem parties would
only unite the enemies of Islam.131 without NU's support, the
conference could not take place. In the months after September,
the NU emphasized the Moslem League as the proper organization
for unifying political Islam and directing Islamic efforts
against Communism.132 But here Masjumi was not interested, for
the League would obviously not serve the rest of Masjumi1s
political demands.
The Constituent Assembly
Only in the Constituent Assembly did Masjumi and NU
finally act together in 1957, for here all Islamic parties had
to respond to the call of the Faith. In the process, the
Konstituante stalled, the party system suffered another set-
back, and Masjumi remained politically isolated.
The issues involved in the Konstituante operated at
several different levels of political and ideological conflict.
Without exception the parties were anxious to resolve the
ideological stalemate which stymied the Konstituante, whose
failure would merely prove Soekarno's point that the parties
were incapable of working out the nation's affairs and that the
^See Kuang Po, Sept. 9y Pedoman, Sept. 28, 1957. In
early October the Islamic party PPTI (Partai Politik Tharikat
Islam) in Central Sumatra sent an open letter to all Islamic
parties, urging them to unite under one symbol in the next
elections (Harlan Penerangan, Oct. 5, 1957).
131
Pedoman# Sept. 25, 1957. Wahab said that he would
not mind a conference of all parties which acknowledged the
existence of God, thus including the Christian parties and all
others except the PKI. Obviously Wahab was determined to
separate the PKI problem from all others on which the NU did
not care to identify with Masjumi. In doing so he sometimes
seemed to come very close to denying the Islamic struggle. For
a reply to Wahab, see Hikmah, X, no. 40 (Nov. 2, 1957), 23.
132
Duta Masjarakat, Oct. 29, 1957.124
party system was deleterious. Moreover, unless the Konstituante
succeeded, the parties would lose their opportunity to buttress
the legitimacy of the parliamentary system by renewing it in a
permanent constitution. But the division between secular and
Islamic groups was insurmountable, secular parties having a
voting edge of approximately 285 against 230 but lacking the
two-thirds majority required to approve constitutional arti-
cles. 133 Therefore a compromise was necessary, but an ideo-
logical compromise depended upon political pre-conditions.
Political strife unrelated to ideology naturally carried
over into the Konstituante. Thus the second most important
issue in the constitutional debates was that of federalism vs.
unitarism. Masjumi's national position was reflected in its
support of a federal state. It has been mentioned that the
unitary state per se was a powerful nationalist symbol, espe-
cially appealing to the Javanese parties and to the army officer
corps. However, the regional crisis had the effect of making
several members of the NU particularly and also the PNI more
amenable to arguments favoring some kind of federal arrange-
ment, though even these men often insisted on retaining the
term "unitarism."134
133
The representations of the Major parties in the
Konstituante were as follows? PNI 117, Masjumi 114, NU 90,
PKI 59. The total membership of the Konstituante was approxi-
mately 500. A majority of the secular groups supported the
Pantjasila as the state ideology. The Murba and Labor parties,
however, proposed a "social-economy" state philosophy, partly
as a compromise; but their nine votes had little influence.
On the Konstituante1s organization and the substantive materials
considered by it, see Simorangkir and Mang Reng Say, Konstitusi
dan Konstituante Indonesia (Djakarta: Soeroengan, 1958), vol. 1
134
In mid-1957, Gen. Nasution spoke accusingly of a move
ment to change the unitary state into a federal state. He was
referring primarily to regionalist tendencies, though he may
have had the Konstituante in mind too. See Abadi, July 24,
1957. Even army officers who later joined the PRRI were not
unanimously agreed upon federalism, for many of them shared the
sensitivity of the officer corps generally to the disunity and
indiscipline which federalism represented, as well as to its
negative symbolism. However, many officers were convinced that
a political structure falling just short of federalism was
necessary to satisfy the regions. Outer island branches of
NU and the PNI favored structures that would represent the outer
islands better, and this had the effect of toning down opposi-
tion to federalism generally. The PKI was the most vehement
opponent of federalism among the parties. It should be men-
tioned, incidentally, that not even Masjumi leaders were entire-
ly agreed on federalism; Noer notes that Yunan Nasution, a mem-
ber of the Masjumi party council, was unwilling to go along with
party opinion favoring a federal state ("Masjumi," p. 374).125
The possibility of an anti-Communist alliance bore
directly on compromise efforts in the Constituent Assembly in
1957. Those who eagerly advocated a three-party coalition
saw the Constituent Assembly as a last hope; an ideological
rapprochement between the PNI and Masjumi would help to end
the latter's isolation and perhaps make it possible for the
two parties to come to terms on other issues that separated
them. For its part, the PKI, though it desired a successful
Konstituante, nevertheless was opposed to the compromise that
might bring it about. Not only would that favor Masjumi's
position, but moreover anything less than a fully secular con-
stitution might later be used to cause trouble by Islamic
zealots who constantly threatened to ban atheistic Communism.135
Operating on a related but confusingly different plane
in the Constituent Assembly was the ideological conflict it-
self, in part politically determined but having a life of its
own. The acrimonious debates which had long been going on
between secularists and their Islamic challengers found their
institutional focus in the Constituent Assembly, which would
determine once and for all whether the state should be based
on the secular Pantjasila or on the tenets of Islam.13θ A
fear-bred dislike of fervent Islam, shared by a large majority
of inland Central and East Javanese, was a factor in the oppo-
sition to an Islamic state, but for the most part the secular-
ists simply did not believe that Islam had anything to con-
tribute to a modern Indonesian state. Both Soekarno and the
devoutly Islamic Hatta openly expressed their conviction that
the broadly conceived Pantjasila would unify the nation while
Islam would divide it. A majority of army officers, including
many who were otherwise sympathetic to Islam, were also com-
mitted to the Pantjasila, seeing in ideological Islam the
origins of the Darul Islam, with which the army had had con-
siderable bloody experience. Islamic leaders countered with
the arguments that the Koran provided all the principles
135
In religious Indonesia, the PKI was avoiding reli-
gious clashes. It took the view that although the PKI as a
party was atheistic, its members could be believers and the
party had nothing against religion. The PKI, said Aidit, only
wanted freedom of religion and no forcing of religion? Harian
Rakjat, Oct. 22, 1957.
136
Although the ideological battle in the Konstituante
centered on the content of the preamble to the new constitu-
tion, more was involved. Questions of Islamic law, courts,
and other institutions also hinged on the final outcome of the
debate. In the various sub-committees of the Konstituante's
constitutional preparatory commission, these other issues did
arise, and proposals were submitted with respect to them.126
(including tolerance) that were needed to run a state, and that
in any case this ideology was God's will.137
Yet despite the seemingly implacable opposition of these
stands, an ideological compromise—though a very delicate matter
—was possible, so long as a political agreement could be worked
out. Moderate leaders of Masjumi and especially NU were not
disposed to fight to the bitter and futile ideological end.
Masjumi's greater interest in a favorable resolution of polit-
ical issues than in ideological purity is indicated, for exam-
ple, by Moh. Natsir's speech on the twelfth anniversary of the
party in October 1957, wherein his total concern was with Mas-
jumi's political demands.138 Nor was this a matter of taking
party ideology for granted· rather—without implying that
Islamic leaders were weak on conviction—the point is that
ideologies in Indonesia were to a large extent convenient sym-
bols of competing groups within the national elite, who could
sacrifice parts of the dogma in exchange for political conces-
sions.
An important qualification is in order here, however,
for the freedom of Islamic leaders to compromise was critically
limited by the ideological character of their parties. Islamic
parties depended for their cohesion on ideological Islam. The
importance of Islam in the political motivation of the ranks of
the Islamic parties (and certainly for the fanatic fringe) was
of course great· their attachment to national party leaders was
articulated in terms of the ideology. Therefore any ideological
compromise would require a substantial obeisance to Islam, for
137
Speeches on ideology in the Konstituante are compiled
in the three volume collection, Tentang Dasar Negara Republik
Indonesia dalam Konstituante (On the Basis of the State of the
Republic of Indonesia in the Konstituante? Bandung or Djakarta:
no publisher, 1958?).
138
See Hikmah, Nov. 9, 1957, pp. 4-8. Another illustra-
tion of the intricate connection between political and ideo-
logical interests is the response of Djerman Prawiradinata, a
West Javanese Masjumi MP, to Hatta's support of the Pantjasila.
Hatta had said that he would gladly serve as Prime Minister in
a state based on the Pantjasila. Djerman's comment on this was
that Hatta would naturally interpret the Pantjasila correctly:
his Pantjasila state would pay prime attention to the first
sila, Belief in God, and of course there would be no place in
it for atheistic groups like the Communists. Masjumi, said
Djerman (and others), had never argued that the Pantjasila was
no good? it was only feared that in the hands of the wrong
groups "the altogether neutral Pantjasila" might swerve from
the right ideas (PIA, Nov. 21, 1957). Masjumi continually argued
that it was willing to accept the Pantjasila, but with an
elaboration of it—particularly the first sila—in Islamic terms.127
otherwise the bond between the Islamic political elite and its
followers would be threatened. A compromise would also have
to be quick, because of the constant danger that pressure from
within their parties might force Islamic leaders into a defense
of principle. Similarly, one of the Islamic parties could not
accept a compromise while others valiantly carried on the
struggle. Masjumi was on guard against the possibility that
NU might come to an agreement with the secular parties, and
was able to nip such inclinations in the bud by bringing moral
pressure to bear on NU members in the Constituent Assembly.
Masjumi itself stuck to its ideological guns tenaciously in
the hope of winning a favorable compromise on both political
and ideological questions—a strategy that never proved success
ful.
The plenary debates on ideology were to begin in Novem-
ber 1957.139 in August, when talk of a PNI-Masjumi-NU alliance
was rife, PNI and Masjumi leaders in the Konstituante began to
make conciliatory motions towards one another, the initiative
apparently being taken by Central Javanese PNI members, includ-
ing Sarino Mangunpranoto, chairman of the PNI delegation.140
Vaguely worded political promises were frequent. Masjumi
offered the tempting bait that if the PNI would incorporate
Islamic principles into the Pantjasila, the Konstituante would
undoubtedly finish its work in two years instead of four.141
Sarino told the press that an ideological compromise would have
"broader influence in the form of concrete cooperation between
the Religious and Nationalist groups in facing the future
building of the state."142 in October, the advocates of a
compromise were delighted by an obvious PNI slap at the PKI in
the Konstituante subcommittee dealing with ideology. The PKI
had proposed that the Pantjasila incorporate a statement recog-
nizing the existence of "all forms and currents of political
139
Between plenary sessions, held twice yearly, the
work of the Konstituante was done by a Constitutional Prepara-
tory Commission. This commission was divided into several tem-
porary subcommittees, each dealing with a part of the Constitu-
tion:	ideology (subcommittee I), government structure, human
rights, economy, and so on. Most sizeable parties were repre-
sented on each subcommittee. See Simorangkir and Mang Reng
Say, Konstitusi dan Konstituante.
140
See PIA, Aug. 28; Keng Po, Sept. 13, 22, 1957.
141
Java Bode, Oct. 7, 1958.
142
Keng Po, Sept. 22, 1957. Sarino also pointed out
that if there was no compromise, the PNI would be the benefi-
ciary, because the provisional constitution would remain in
effect and its ideological guide was the Pantjasila. Secular
groups did have the important tactical advantage of defending
the status quo on ideology.128
opinion in Indonesia#" an attempt to erect a safeguard against
anti-Communist threats and to make Communism respectable. Mem-
bers of the PNI, Parkindo, and the Catholic party rejected the
suggestion and shunted it aside from the Pantjasila category
of ideological proposals. This did not# however, alter the
PKI's commitment in the Constituent Assembly to the Pantjasila.143
Specific compromise solutions were proposed. One is
discussed briefly here because it turns up again in 1959, when
the Constituent Assembly held its last, and again unproductive,
ideological debate. This was the idea of basing the constitu-
tion on the original Djakarta Charter of 1945, a result of the
first compromise efforts by nationalist and Islamic leaders
two months before Soekarno and Hatta proclaimed independence.
At that time Soekarno and the secular nationalist group ini-
tially made two concessions to Moslem leaders. The first was
to change the order of the five points of the Pantjasila (which
Soekarno had only recently enunciated) to put Belief in God
first.144 The second was to add an interpretive phrase to the
first sila in the document that was called the Djakarta Charter;
it read: "[The] Republic of Indonesia ... [is] based on:
Belief in God, with the obligation of practicing the Islamic
Sjariah for the adherents of Islam."145 Islamic groups were
not strong enough to insist on the retention of this provision,
and within a few days it was removed from the Djakarta Charter,
Soekarno arguing that it would drive Christians and other reli-
gious minorities away.I46 The Djakarta Charter, without the
143PIA, Oct. 4, 1957.
144
The original order of the Pantjasila was? 1) nation-
alism, 2) humanitarianism, 3) people's sovereignty, 4) social
justice, and 5) belief in God. See Soekarno, Lahirnja Pantja-
sila (The Birth of the Pantjasila; Djakarta: Ministry of In-
formation). Prof. Moh. Yamin published the minutes of discus-
sions in the two successive preparatory committees set up during
the last three months of the Japanese occupation to consider
problems of independence and to draft a constitution. See
Naskah Persiapan Undang-Undang Dasar 1945 (Documents on the
Preparation of the 1945 Constitution; Djakarta: Jajasan Pra-
pantja, 1959), vol. 1.
145
For the full text of the Djakarta Charter in English,
see The Indonesian Revolution: Basic Documents and the Idea of
Guided Democracy (Djakarta: Ministry of Information, special
issue 65, 1960), pp. 53-54.
146
In his speech to the Konstituante in December,
Roeslan Abdulgani (PNI) presented an excellent discussion of
the origins and significance of the Djakarta Charter and the
Sjariah phrase from a secularist point of view. He said that
he had discussed the matter with Soekarno before drafting his129
Islamic injunction/ became the preamble of the 1945 Constitu-
tion. In 1957 Islamic groups proposed that the phrase be re-
adopted—as an elaboration of the Pantjasila—in the interests
of compromise.147 Apparently several members of Masjumi and
the PNI found the original Djakarta Charter to be an acceptable
solution/ partly because there was little agreement on the
meaning of the Sjariah clause. Sarino mentioned such a course
as a possibility in September/ when he said that an ideological
compromise might be a "national state in which the Islamic law
was guaranteed."148
But the Djakarta Charter remained only a possible com-
promise. Within the PNI there were some members—especially
Christians—who would not go that far under any circumstances.149
Moreover, although Konstituante members could approach one
another to some extent, this was less true of national party
leaders, who assumed the leading role when the plenary debates
began. The PNI soon began to feel uncomfortable about the
fact that while the PKI staunchly defended the Pantjasila, it
was members of the PNI, the original party of the Pantjasila,
who were contemplating compromise. Also Soekarno displayed no
sympathy for compromise efforts.150 Masjumi later blamed the
PNI and Soekarno for scuttling all attempts to resolve the
ideological conflict, but by the time the Konstituante debates
began in mid-November Masjumi leaders themselves had begun to
lose interest in a compromise. They were increasingly frustrated
speech. The speech is also a powerful statement of the secular
argument in general. See Tentang Dasar Negara, III, 348-372.
Roeslan concluded by saying, in effect, that the compromise of
making Belief in God the first sila was enough.
147PIA, Sept. 11? Keng Po, Sept. 13, 1957.
148
Keng Po, Sept. 22, 1957. For Islamic groups, the
Islamic law was the logical core of their argument? without it,
an "Islamic State" or a "state based on Islam" was meaningless.
Yet among university-trained Masjumi leaders, especially some
of the lawyers, there was considerable doubt about the useful-
ness of the Islamic law in a modern state, though it was not a
doubt that could be expressed easily in public.
149
See the speech of Arnold Mononutu, a Christian PNI
member from North Sulawesi, in Tentang Dasar Negara, II, 341-
352.
150
In the Catholic island of Flores, Soekarno said that
Catholics would have complete freedom of religion under the
Pantjasila. He reminded his audience of the treacherous
Kartosuwirjo, leader of the West Javanese Darul Islam (Antara,
Nov. 6, 1957). Islamic groups protested Soekarno's statements
supporting the Pantjasila.130
in their opposition to the Government's regional# economic# and
foreign policies. The Tjikini assassination attempt and the
take-over of Dutch enterprises at the end of November and early
December threw the whole political situation out of kilter.
For Masjumi a single dimension compromise on ideology was
meaningless while no concessions were forthcoming from the
Government or from other parties on more imperative political
questions.
The NU waited almost passively in the wings for an un-
mistakable cue. When it appeared unlikely that the PNI and
Masjumi would in fact come together# NU quickly followed Mas-
jumi towards a stand on principle. On the first day of the
debate# November 10th, Suwirjo told the Constituent Assembly
that any state philosophy other than the Pantjasila would en-
danger the well-being of the nation.151 Natsir attacked secu-
larism, insisting that only Islam could fulfill all the require
ments of Indonesian statehood.152 a few days later# partly in
response to Masjumi pressure, the Moslem League declared that
"an independent Indonesia based on Islam is the responsibility
of all Moslems, especially those in the Konstituante."153 NU
secretary-general Zuhri said a week afterwards that the impres-
sion was incorrect that Islamic leaders were actively seeking
a compromise on ideology outside of the Constituent Assembly.
For NU, Zuhri stated, to carry on the Islamic struggle was an
obligation that could not be evaded, even if the Pantjasila
was a necessary precondition for restoring the Dwitunggal.154
The PKI drove the wedge more deeply between Islamic and secular
groups by connecting the Tjikini Affair with Masjumi1s effort
to make Islam the state philosophy, an accusation to which both
NU and Masjumi reacted sharply, moving towards an even firmer
defense of their ideology. Duta Masjarakat, the NU paper, re-
minded the PKI that it was not only Masjumi which supported
Islam but also NU.155
151
Tentang Dasar Negara, I, 1-12. The substance of the
ideological debates will not be dealt with here.
152Ibid., pp. 109-141.
~*~53puta Masjarakat, Nov. 19, 1957.
154
Ibid., Nov. 23, 1957. This was in response to the
speech of Sakirman (PKI), who proposed that the Pantjasila be
accepted by acclamation and said that this would help efforts
to restore the Dwitunggal, a point that angered members of
both Masjumi and NU. Zuhri insisted that the Hatta issue must
be separated completely from the question of ideology.
155
Duta Masjarakat, Dec. 3, 4, 1957. For the PKI com-
ment, see Harian Rakjat Sport dan Film, Dec. 1, 1957.131
In December there was still talk of a compromise, and
members of the PNI and Masjumi as well as a few minor parties
proposed various "middle-ways."156 But it was obvious that the
major parties had failed to resolve the conflict. There was
sporadic talk of abolishing the deadlocked Konstituante—a sug-
gestion that understandably dismayed party leaders.157 Dis-
appointed at the failure to overcome the impasse, most parties
sought to save the situation by holding the ideological debate
in abeyance until a more favorable time. The PSI and others
proposed that the Constituent Assembly turn to the rest of the
constitution and come back to ideology later. The Assembly
decided not to take a vote at this session, in the hope that a
compromise could yet be worked out before the next plenary
debates.
On this discouraging note, the ideological discussions
ended in 1957, giving further proof that the Constituent Assem-
bly was no more capable of achieving results than Parliament.
The debates also made it clearer that there would be no anti-
communist alliance.
Discussion of a PNI-Masjumi-NU coalition continued into
January, however, stimulated by the great boost which the PKI
enjoyed after the Tjikini Affair and the take-over of Dutch
firms. But as the regional crisis began to come to a head, the
PNI and NU drew further away from Masjumi. Masjumi and the PSI
renewed their attacks on the Government in January, accusing
it of handling the West Irian issue badly, the regional crisis
worse, and economic conditions hopelessly. Both parties de-
manded a new cabinet with adequate moral authority to deal
with the nation's crises. But the PNI and NU rushed to the
defense of the Government. When at the end of January region-
alist leaders in Padang insisted that the cabinet resign, Wahab
Chasbullah of NU stated flatly that his party did not believe
a new cabinet would be better than the existing one, even if
Hatta were to lead it.158 The PKI also affirmed its support of
the Kabinet Karya, praising it as second best only to a Govern-
ment with Communists in it.159 in February all hopes of a
1.5 β
In a second speech, Suwirjo appealed for an effort
to seek a compromise, but did not suggest a basis for one
(Antara, Nov. 22, 1957). Masjumi members felt at this point
that everything depended upon the PNI's willingness to make a
concession. Bahrum Djamil of Masjumi said in response to
Suwirjo's speech that the balance of power was clear and that
it was up to the PNI to choose with whom it wanted to cooperate
157See Abadl, Nov..12, 1957.
158Keng Po, Jan. 30, 1958.
159Ibid.132
three party alliance were shattered by the rebellion, which
stigmatized Masjumi as treasonable and made it impossible for
PNI and NU leaders to consider any working arrangements with it
at all on the national level.
But, after all, the alliance had been a mirage all
along. From Masjumi's point of view, anti-Communism was only
one goal. That alone would not bring Masjumi in out of the
cold rain of opposition, and to be permanently out of the
Government was a possibility that could not be accepted either
by the party or by the regions which it represented. For the
PNI and NU, however, there was no question of relinquishing
their positions in the Kabinet Karya for the sake of Masjumi.
Having no power to determine the course of events, they pre-
ferred security to chance. Indeed, the real community of in-
terest in the party world in 1957 was between the leadership of
the PNI and NU; their concern was to maintain the cabinet in
which they exercised some authority and to assure themselves
of a place in any future Government. So strong were the argu-
ments of PNI and NU leaders on this score that such cries as
there were in those parties for a new cabinet were quickly
drowned out.160 Never did an alternative course offer suffi-
cient attractions to make them alter their views. Persistently,
from June 1957 onwards, the PNI and NU affirmed their determin-
ation to defend the Djuanda Cabinet, as they had the previous
Ali Cabinet; and, as in the case of the Ali Cabinet, the PKI
fully supported their determination. Masjumi banged against a
door that would not open.
160
As early as June, NU leaders made their resolve to
remain in the cabinet perfectly clear. See Keng Po, June 18;
Duta Masjarakat, July 11, 1957. In July, Suwirjo declared, in
connection with rumors that the PNI, NU, and Masjumi might
cooperate to form a new cabinet, that the PNI would not cooper-
ate with anyone for the purpose of unseating the existing
cabinet (Keng Po, July 11, 1957).133
CHAPTER IV
THE REBELLION AND THE POLITICAL SYSTEM
The PRRI rebellion acted as a political catalyst to
make permanent the trends begun tentatively in 1956 and 1957.
Were it not for the temptation to call nearly every major event
since 1956 a watershed in Indonesian politics, one might be
justified in so labelling the rebellion. Eliminating the
regional challenge to Java was only one of its significant con-
sequences. A second was that it greatly strengthened the two
partners of the anti-party alliance—Soekarno and the army.
The President's strongest opponents were eliminated or
tainted by the rebellion. The fact that Soekarno had himself
been something of a major issue in the regional crisis meant
that the decision to confront the PRRI was also a defense of
his position. Those who remained loyal to the Government were
largely committed to supporting Soekarno's right—indeed, his
responsibility—to lead the nation. The hostility of the
United States to Soekarno, by arousing nationalist sentiment,
also served to strengthen him. No longer was it necessary for
him to make even a gesture of compromise towards Hatta, who now
became an important but passive symbol of the opposition.
Similarly, the army drew political benefit from the
rebellion. The civil war emphasized its role as protector of
the nation, giving officers an even greater sense of their
importance to the state. Moreover, the officer corps was purged
of its most "radical" members, achieving in the process a
greater degree of unity than it had ever before enjoyed.
Nasution's position was secured, for the rebellion removed
both his primary opposition and most of the potentially competi-
tive chief-of-staff material within the officer corps at that
time. Lubis, Simbolon, and Kawilarang, once considered as
possible successors to Nasution, were now in the jungle. There
remained Brigadier General Gatot Soebroto, second in command
of the army· but he was then in his fifties, and had not the
political sagacity of Nasution. Nor was any threat presented
by either of the other two Brigadier Generals, Soengkono and
Djatikusumo.1 Finally, the rebellion offered an excellent
Gatot Soebroto was promoted to Brig. Gen. in July
1957, Soengkono and Djatikusumo in November. Nasution was pro-
moted to Lt. Gen. in July 1958, becoming the first Lt. Gen.
since the late Sudirman, first commander of the army during the
revolution. Along with Nasution, Navy Chief-of-Staff Subijakto
and Air Force Chief-of-Staff Suryadarma were promoted to Vice-
Admiral and Vice-Commodore respectively. See Pesat, XIV, no.
29 (July 19, 1958), 16.134
excuse for maintaining martial law despite the insistent demands
of civilian politicians that it be lifted.
A third major consequence of the rebellion, and a pri-
mary theme of this chapter, was that the political party system
was restructured and the parties forced to mesh gears more
intimately with the non-parliamentary power structure. The im-
portance of this lies in the fact that the evolution of Guided
Democracy was very much dependent on the interweaving of the
anti-party and inter-party conflicts. It was not merely a case
of Soekarno and the army suppressing the old system. Except
for the PKI, nearly all the parties energetically helped to
emasculate themselves. There were two key elements in this
process. First, the decline of the parliamentary system, accel-
erated by the political impact of the rebellion, reinforced
the tendency of the PNI and NU to work for political advantages
within the new structure. The second element, related to the
first, was the growing fear of most parties that they would
finally be overwhelmed by the PKI. Here too the rebellion was
important. It completed the process, in course since the first
Ali Cabinet (1953-55), of isolating Masjumi and strengthening
the PKI. Within the party system, the latter now faced only
the inadequately equipped PNI and NU.
The discussion that follows will deal with the party
system after the outbreak of the rebellion, the cabinet re-
shuffle of June 1958, and the rapid disintegration of the par-
ties' position vis-a-vis the anti-party forces.
The Parties After the Rebellion
The rebellion and its rapid reduction placed several
parties in jeopardy. All those who had opposed the Government
in the regional crisis were left out on a limb. Four or five
of the parties were in danger of reprisals as some of their
members had actually joined the PRRI. They all certainly stood
to lose political influence; their views automatically counted
for much less than previously. Any hope for a comeback de-
pended on a compromise by the Government with the PRRI. But
compromise was an unacceptable solution to Soekarno, to the
PKI, to many in the PNI, and to some in the army. Therefore,
even apart from the fact that anger against the PRRI generally
ran very high, a compromise was unlikely, and indeed did not
come about. As a result, a large segment of Indonesia's polit-
ical spectrum was eclipsed.
Masjumi's decline after the rebellion began was final.
It continued to exist as a party, to exercise its strength in
Parliament, and to speak out in opposition to the Government,
but its political influence was irredeemably diminished. Iden-
tified with the PRRI through the participation of Natsir, Sja-
fruddin, and Burhanuddin, it was tagged the party of rebellion,135
separatism, and foreign intervention. The leverage which it
had enjoyed as the party of the outer islands disappeared the
moment the decision was taken to meet the regional challenge
with force. Whatever influence Masjumi might have regained
was lost after February 1958 because of the ambivalent attitude
the party took towards the rebellion. Stunned by the events
of February-April and under severe attack by NU, the PKI, the
PNI, and independent nationalist opinion (including the army),
Masjumi faced a crisis of survival. Political wisdom counseled
denunciation of the PRRI and all party members connected with
it.2 Parkindo, IPKI, and the PSI chose this course, though the
PSI refused to take special measures against Soemitro Djojohadi-
kusumo.^ But what was left of Masjumi's leadership disagreed
on what course to follow.
2
For a comment on Masjumi's dilemma and a demand that
it renounce Natsir, Sjafruddin, and Burhanuddin, see Pesat,
XIV, no. 18 (May 13, 1958), 10-11. Merdeka, July 1, 1958,
warned that only a convincing rejection by Masjumi of the PRRI,
or the rise of a new group within Masjumi which could adapt to
present conditions, would save the party from the dangers
created by some of its leaders.
3
Each of these three parties denied any complicity in
the rebellion, refusing to hold itself responsible for the acts
of individual members. The PSI refused to mete out special
punishment for Soemitro on the grounds that he had already re-
moved himself from the party by disobeying it. To go further
than this would have been to admit party responsibility, and
this the PSI would not do. It came under harsher attack than
the other minor parties because Soemitro was so important a
figure and one as closely identified with the PSI leadership as
Sjafruddin was with Masjumi. Parkindo and IPKI involvement in
the PRRI was almost entirely limited to local members in Sumatra
Parkindo, as a religious minority party, was safer from
attack than some of the other parties connected with the PRRI.
Moreover, it did not present a serious political threat to any-
one, though Soekarno found some of its leaders objectionable
because of their opposition to him. Also, Parkindo had an im-
portant protector in the cabinet in the person of Third Vice-
Premier Leimena. The PSI had none of these benefits, and it
suffered somewhat more than the others. A move was already
underway in the government to reduce PSI influence in the top
levels of the bureaucracy—e.g., ministerial secretary-generals
associated with the PSI were forced into retirement by ex-post-
facto limitation of the tenure of high level bureaucrats. The
PSI was not deeply hurt, however, for its leaders remained in-
fluential among highly educated intellectuals in the government
and, to some extent, in the army. Moreover, in many ways PSI
leaders had stopped thinking of themselves as a party, regard-
ing their political role—sometimes pretentiously—as one of
intellectual guidance.136
A minority of Masjumi leaders, including first vice-
chairman Sukiman and Jusuf Wibisono, believed that the party
must act quickly to avoid losing all national influence or
possibly suffering outright suppression. According to their
view, Natsir, Sjafruddin, and Burhanuddin had jeopardized Mas-
jumi 's existence and must be expelled from the party. The
Sukiman group advocated a policy of peaceful compromise with
the PRRI, but insisted that Masjumi must condemn the rebellion
in order to be rehabilitated. Any other posture, they argued,
was inconsistent· to refuse to denounce the rebellion and yet
to continue to participate in legal politics was two-faced and
debilitating,4 The inevitable outcome of such a course would
be that Masjumi's power would disappear altogether, imperiling
the entire Islamic cause in Indonesia.
The prevailing group in the party, however, was that
led by second vice-chairman Prawoto Mangkusasmito and, among
others, Kasman Singodimedjo»5 it was, for the most part, the
old Natsir wing of the party—or at least closer to it than to
the Sukiman wing. Basically their view was that an unequivocal
denunciation of the PRRI by Masjumi would demolish the last
bridge between the two camps in the civil war and make a com-
promise impossible. To this analysis was added a sense of
righteous indignation with Soekarno and the Government and a
conviction that Masjumi would never regain its former position
without a total reversal of all political trends; therefore, why
4
This point was made by H. Firdaus, a young Masjumi
leader, in an attack on Kasman Singodimedjo. See Pos Indonesia,
Sept. 8, 1958. (Pos Indonesia, begun in August 1958, succeeded
in its high standard of reporting to the place of Keng Po,
which was banned in February.) Firdaus declared that Masjumi's
refusal to condemn the rebellion was in violation of parliamen-
tary principles. Indeed, although the course of events obscured
the logic of the matter, it was ironic that Masjumi, which had
condemned the PKI for being anti-parliamentary, should now con-
done the ultimate contradiction of parliamentary government.
The reply to this, of course, was that Soekarno had already
violated the Constitution in 1957—a reply that was regarded as
pouting, and one that did nothing to help Masjumi's position.
5
The party division on this issue did not follow Java-
outer island lines. Firdaus is a Sumatran; Sukiman, Wibisono,
Prawoto, and Kasman are Javanese. Nor were generational lines
the determining factor. Partly however, the division can be
understood in terms of the differences between the Sukiman and
Natsir wings of the party. The former, having always been able
to communicate better with the "Javanese parties" and older
nationalist leaders, had some trust in there still being grounds
for working with some of the other parties to influence the
course of politics.137
go along with the victorious enemy? Moreover, there was a
reluctance to commit so flagrant an act of disloyalty as the
renunciation of Natsir et al., with whom ties of friendship and
respect remained strong. Possibly this sentiment was compounded
by feelings of guilt among a few Masjumi leaders at not having
joined a good cause in the jungle. Some were loathe to hurt
the PRRI's chances, hoping that it might yet win in the long
run, either through a reversal of the trend of Djakarta poli-
tics or through the economic ruin which Soemitro predicted
would bring the central government to its knees.
After the outbreak of the rebellion, the Prawoto group
determined Masjumi's posture—one of implacable stands on
principle which made the party difficult to approach. In early
March, before the Government began full-scale military opera-
tions in Sumatra, Firdaus—a second echelon national Masjumi
leader—tried to call an emergency session of the party council
to choose a new chairman to replace Natsir, but the proposal
was blocked by Prawoto and a majority of the council. Natsir
therefore remained Masjumi's party chairman in absentia until
April 1959, when Prawoto was elected to the position; Sukiman,
as interim leader in 1958, was unable to exercise much authori-
ty.® The anomaly of Natsir's retaining the chairmanship and
the reluctance of party leaders to adjust to political reali-
ties left Masjumi in a very vulnerable position. On August
31st, at a party meeting in a Magelang movie house, Kasman
Singodimedjo declared that the central government was as much
to blame for the rebellion as were PRRI leaders and as deserv-
ing of punishment. There was no reason, he went on, for Mas-
jumi to punish its leaders who had joined the rebellion, for
they had done the party no wrong. Military authorities arrested
Kasman within a few days, and he was later arraigned on charges
of abetting the enemy.* The speech opened Masjumi to attack
on all sides. Firdaus called it a trumpet of Masjumi's death,
accusing those who refused to take a consistent stand on the
rebellion of sacrificing the interests of the Islamic ummat.8
Similarly, Masjumi's continued demand for compromise with the
PRRI—a demand supported by the whole party—called forth
government reprisals and renewed attacks by the PKI, the PNI,
θ
The tension between the Sukiman and Prawoto groups
was obvious throughout 1958. Wibisono resigned from the party
executive council in December because of "differences of opin-
ion" within the party. (See Pos Indonesia, Jan. 2, 1959.)
7
Court report of the trial of Kasman beginning in
September 1960 (typescript). Kasman lost his case and was
sentenced to prison.
Q
Pos Indonesia, Sept. 8, 1958. Firdaus, at the same
time, proposed a "holy mission" from the Government to the
rebels to seek a peaceful settlement.138
and NU. In October, a meeting of Masjumi-related alim ulama
in West Java issued a resolution proposing islah (peaceful
reconciliation) with the rebels. Masjumi gave the resolution
its unqualified blessing, and consequently suffered a flood of
abuse in the press, the arrest of several West Javanese Masjumi
leaders by the army, and an accusation by NU leaders that Mas-
jumi was damaging the cause of Islam.9
After the PRRI's military retreat the dominant mood in
Masjumi approached defeatism. Government action to abolish the
party, frequently rumored in 1958, would not have been a sur-
prise to Masjumi. The party lost its dynamism and showed signs
of disintegration. On May 8, the party newspaper, Abadi, ceased
publication until September 26, ostensibly because of financial
difficulties.10 Masjumi's constituent member organizations, which
had always been a problem in terms of party structure, started
thinking more seriously about leaving the party in order to pro-
tect themselves. A debate on this question in Muhammadijah,
from which much of Masjumi's leadership had been drawn, had be-
gun again in 1957 and became more strident in 1958.H The Mas-
jumi labor organization, SBII, which split in early 1958, and
the youth movement, GPU, began gradually to assert their inde-
pendence of the party, though there was no formal break. In
July, a group of young Masjumi leaders in East Java met to dis-
cuss the possibility of forming a new Islamic party under "pro-
gressive Masjumi leaders."12 in the position of permanent
opposition towards which Masjumi was moving, there was little
g
The alim ulama meeting also took on an anti-Soekarno
and anti-Guided Democracy cast. See Pos Indonesia, Oct. 13,
1958. The arrest of five West Javanese Masjumi leaders shortly
afterwards was connected also with a statement by the regional
party in July demanding that, in the interests of national
peace, Soekarno should stop violating the constitution. Civil
war, said the statement, must be ended peacefully. Pos Indone-
sia, Oct. 28; Abadi, Oct. 27, 28, Nov. 4, 1958.
^Abadi, May 8, 1958; and Kronik Pers, 1958, p. 51.
^Some proposed that Muhammadijah run in the next elec-
tions under its own symbol. Most Muhammadijah members opposed
direct involvement in politics, however, for fear that the or-
ganization's other functions would suffer. See Nusantara,
June 26, 1958.
•l^Trompet Masjarakat, July 10, 1958. The name of the
new party was to be Masjumi Ahli Sunnah wal Djamaah. Nothing
came of it, but many devout modernist Moslems were beginning
to worry that political Islam must seek a more powerful expres-
sion than Masjumi could offer after the rebellion began. NU
was regarded by these groups as unsatisfactory because of its
Java-centric traditionalism.139
to attract and hold a following. Ideology alone seems to have
been largely responsible for keeping the party together after
mid-1958.
It must not be supposed, however, that an about-face
on the rebellion would have allowed Masjumi to go on as if
nothing had happened. By being more flexible it might have
added strength to those groups, particularly within the army,
that were equally interested in bringing the rebellion to a
peaceful end through compromise; and therein lay Masjumi's only
hope, however slight, for a comeback. As it was, Masjumi hurt
its own cause and assured its own isolation by persevering in
a political stance that others, no matter how sympathetic,
could espouse openly only at the risk of being similarly
tainted. But even had Masjumi been more flexible, it would
have been at a great political disadvantage, for it had lost
its outer-island leverage and had been defeated on all the
important issues of 1957.
The implications of Masjumi's decline for the course
of Indonesian politics were manifold. For one thing, it pre-
saged an end to the basic ideological struggle which had gone
on since the revolution—indeed, since the coming of age of
the nationalist movement under the Dutch. Political Islam was
crippled. As many in the Islamic elite feared, Masjumi's
political failure could not but affect in direct proportion
the outcome of the Islam-Pantjasila debate—hence the plea of
Firdaus and several NU leaders that for the sake of Islam Mas-
jumi must denounce the PRRI and Natsir. In December 1958, two
well-known Masjumi leaders wrote, for limited circulation, an
assessment of the Islamic struggle which portrayed the utter
failure of the Darul Islam, the PRRI, and all previous legal
parliamentary efforts to advance the cause of Islam. Their
pessimistic analysis, tempered by a call for renewed dedication,
was clearly predicated on the expected collapse of Masjumi.
From another point of view, that of the defense of par-
liamentary institutions, Masjumi's decline weakened the entire
party system. Partly this was because the unrepented involve-
ment of Masjumi in the PRRI added another tangible blemish to
the party system and to parliamentary government.13 But more
3In an editorial of August 23, 1958, Suluh Indonesia
(PNI) noted that Djuanda's admonition in Parliament (on August
16) that all groups should take a firm stand in condemning their
members who had joined the PRRI, applied directly to Masjumi
and the PSI. If these parties rejected the advice, said Suluh
Indonesia, it would mean that they were not "in tune with the
ideals which presented the opportunity to establish political
parties in 1945." Chief Prosecutor Soeprapto threatened to
undertake an investigation of "PRRI pockets" in Parliament
(Nusantara, Sept. 2, 1958).140
important/ the forces of anti-partyism now had one less party
to deal with. Masjumi's opposition to Guided Democracy was no
longer a factor to be reckoned withy nor was its hostility to
Soekarno. This meant that for practical purposes the party
side of the Guided Democracy conflict consisted of only three
major parties, two of which—the PKI and the PNI—had symbiotic
political relationships with Soekarnoy and the third, NU, was
not constituted to act with great firmness or to carry much
political weight alone.
Complicating this picture was the effect of Masjumi's
decline on the structure of the party system. This became a
central political consideration, appearing to different groups
as either promising or threatening.14 For example, NU might
hope to gain in stature by succeeding to Masjumi's place as the
chief Islamic party. With Masjumi no longer in the government,
NU might also hope to lure away Masjumi support in the outer
islands, where NU was generally weak. Balanced against this,
however, was the loss of Masjumi to the ideological struggle and
the loss of the additional bargaining power NU had enjoyed while
Masjumi had posed a threat to the PNI, the PKI, and Soekarno.
The opposition which NU leaders expressed to the idea of abol-
ishing Masjumi sprang not only from the fear, shared by others,
that banning any party was a dangerous precedent, but also from
concern that no Masjumi would mean a much weaker NU. The PNI
also hoped for much benefit from the decline of its traditional
opponent. To PNI leaders it seemed that without the political
and ideological challenge of Masjumi, the PNI would loom large
as the fortress of victorious nationalism, assuming the core
position in every Government. The one element, however, that
threatened to upset this profit-loss balancing was the growing
power of the PKI. Assuming, as the parties did, that the par-
liamentary system would continue, the vigorous PKI was the pri-
mary challenge to the PNI and every other party.
With the weakening of Masjumi, the balance among polit-
ical parties was thrown to the left, and the powerful position
achieved by the PKI in 1957 seemed to be even further enhanced.
Having already emerged from the regional elections as the
nation's number one party, the PKI was now favored by other
factors. Not only did the rebellion discredit Masjumi and
eliminate the major threat of the anti-Communist regional move-
ments, but it also thoroughly discredited the United States,
because of its support of the PRRI. At the same time, the sym-
pathies of the Soviet bloc and new aid agreements with the USSR,
China, Poland, and Czechoslovakia highlighted a move by the
country towards the left internationally that appeared to favor
14
In January 1959, Suwirjo said in Makassar that as a
result of the rebellion there would be a major shift in the
balance of political power, which would be indicated in the
next elections? Pos Indonesia, Jan. 21, 1959.141
the PKI domestically. The PKI's determined opposition to the
regionalists stood the party in good stead with the Government
in late 1957 and the trying early months of 1958. Even the
General Staff valued the PKI's cooperation. So subdued was
PKI-army antagonism for a few brief months, from December un-
til about March, that Nasution felt obliged in January to deny
the charges of some foreign newsmen that the army was Communist
influenced.15
Moreover, certain side-effects of the rebellion bene-
fitted the PKI. One was the unexpected stimulus to the expan-
sion of Communist strength in Sumatra. On the invasion of
West Sumatra, an area of powerful Masjumi support, the Dipone-
goro division command found Communists the most trustworthy
candidates to run the civil administration of the occupied
territory. Nearly everyone else could be shown to be connected
with or, because of the clan kinship system, to have a relative
connected with the PRRI. Only the PKI had consistently and
outspokenly opposed—long before the rebellion was proclaimed—
Husein and other local leaders involved in the PRRI. Conse-
quently, PKI members were appointed by the military command to
positions of power throughout the area, in villages as well as
in the regional administration.
Another development that seemed to favor the PKI was
the crack-down on the Kuomintang in Indonesia following dis-
closures of Taiwan's sympathy and aid for the rebels. The PKI
led the campaign against the KMT but was supported by the PNI,
NU, and many others. However, the latter groups acted on
Abadi, Jan. 14, 1958. Nasution stated that the army
was committed to the independent foreign policy of the govern-
ment and ideologically to the Pantjasila. Only a few weeks
later, after the rebellion began, foreign newspapers were re-
porting the essential conflict of views between Soekarno and
Nasution over the Communist issue.
16
There were several indications of the PKI's attempt
to consolidate its successes in West Sumatra. Harian Rakjat,
May 27, 1958, reported that a PKI parliamentary delegation had
seen the Minister of Internal Affairs to urge him to confirm
permanently in their posts leaders of the popular resistance
in Sumatra who had been appointed to the regional administra-
tion by the army. The delegation also urged that Nursuhud, a
West Sumatran PKI leader, be appointed to the regional govern-
ment advisory board. See also Harian Rakjat, April 17, 1959.
The PKI's influence in West Sumatra was not permanently on the
rise, however. When the rebellion came to an end in 1961 and
the administrative autonomy of villages began to be restored,
PKI leaders in the villages found that their authority began
to decline quite rapidly, often because they did not enjoy
traditional customary sanctions.142
anti-Chinese as well as anti-Taiwan grounds, threatening the
position of Chinese groups other than those connected with the
KMT.17 Thus in April, all Chinese language newspapers were
banned, and the PKI had to leap to the defense of those papers
which supported the Government.1θ KMT social, educational, and
business organizations were restricted, closed, or harassed.
Finally, in August, the KMT was banned altogether in Indonesia.
These developments all helped to improve the position
of the PKI, but there were dangers inherent in this improvement,
and overall the party's situation was more menacing than pro-
mising. PKI leaders recognized the problems with crystal clar-
ity at the sixth plenary session of the CCPKI from March 31 to
April 3, 1958.20 Aidit entitled one part of his report to the
17
There was always a danger that an attack on one group
of Chinese would spread to include all Chinese. Memories were
still fresh of the Assaat movement against Chinese commercial
power in 1956 and the anti-Chinese activities it set off. See
Herbert Feith, The Decline of Constitutional Democracy in Indo-
nesia (Ithaca, N.Y.s Cornell University Press, 1962), pp. 481-
487. See also, G. William Skinner, "The Chinese Minority," in
Ruth T. McVey, ed., Indonesia (New Havens HRAF, 1963), pp. 97-
118. What reduced the risk of a renewed wave of anti-Sinicism
in 1958 was, again, the overwhelming predominance of the regional
issue. Chinese groups and organizations—e.g., the Baperki—
which stood firmly on the side of the government in the regional
crisis had a sound defense at the time.
18
See Harian Rakjat, April 22, 1958, for an attack on
the order (from Nasution's headquarters) forbidding the use of
non-Latin or Arabic alphabets in all publications. The editor-
ial warned against chauvinism, and argued that groups loyal to
the government should not be made to suffer. A new regulation
permitting some Chinese papers to publish was later issued.
19
On the anti-KMT campaign, see V. Hanssens, "The Cam-
paign Against Nationalist Chinese in Indonesia," in B. M. Vlekke,
Indonesia's Struggle 1957-1958 (The Hague: Netherlands Insti-
tute of International Affairs, 1959), pp. 56-76.
20
For the documents of the sixth plenum of the CCPKI,
see Bintang Merah, vol. XIV, no. 3-4 (March-April 1958). Aidit's
report to the meeting, "Fase Baru dan Penjesuaian Organisasi
dengan Situasi" (The New Phase and Bringing the Organization
into Line with the Situation), is also in his Pilihan Tullsan
(Selected Writings· Djakarta: Jajasan "Pembaruan," 1959-1960),
II, 378-443. See also Arnold Brackman, Indonesian Communism
(New York: Praeger, 1963), pp. 249-254. The new phase refers
to the turn of political developments beginning with the Tjikini
Affair, the take-over of Dutch firms, and the outbreak of the
rebellion, a turn which the PKI justifiably considered as being143
Central Committee "Not Communist and Anti-Communist, but Demo-
cracy and Anti-Democracy, National and Anti-National," and here
he touched on the primary dangers which the party facedj21
anti-Communism, anti-partyism, and the army. Two of these
were shared by the other parties, but all three were signifi-
cantly related, mutually reinforcing, and especially threaten-
ing in the case of the PKI.
Putting aside anti-partyism for a while, the chief
hazard for the PKI in the first half of 1958 was that its very
strength made it a focus of attention. Although this had been
equally true in 1957, the regional crisis had then had the
effect of dividing anti-Communist potential. The rebellion
had removed the threat of the anti-Communist regionalist move-
ments, but it left behind an equally anti-Communist army more
unified and less distracted than before.22 Quite apart from
favorable to its position because it was unfavorable to that
of the right wing.
To adjust to the potentialities of the new phase, the
CCPKI undertook at this meeting to tighten up party organiza-
tion and to intensify efforts to broaden the party's popular
support—an indication also, perhaps, of concern for dangers
yet to be faced. At this time, a small executive board (Dewan
Harian) of the CCPKI was chosen, consisting of Aidit, Lukman,
Njoto, and Sudisman (Bintang Merah, cited above, p. 153).
21
"Bukan Komunis dan Anti-Komunis, Tetapi Demokrasi dan
Anti-Demokrasi, Nasional dan Anti-Nasional," in Pilihan Tulisan,
II, 412-420. See also the speech by Jusuf Adjitoropu, elected
to the politbureau at this meeting? "Apakah Arti Penjesuaian
Organisasi dengan Situasi?" (What is the Meaning of Bringing
the Organization into Line with the Situation?), Harian Rakjat,
April 11, 1958.
2 2
The opening remarks of Aidit1s report to the CCPKI
may have significance with respect to the PKI's concern for the
role of the army, as well as for numerous other possible devel-
opments. If efforts to crush the rebels in Sumatra and Sulawesi
achieved rapid success, said Aidit, "it will stimulate more ad-
vanced development of the revolutionary situation in our coun-
try. If crushing the rebels can be accomplished in a short time,
the reactionaries and imperialists will lose an important base
of theirs, and better conditions will be created for carrying
out the President's Konsepsi 100% and for fulfilling the demands
of the August Revolution completely. But on the other hand, if
the rebellion is not settled quickly, this critical situation
will end up by adding a new chronic sickness in the body of the
Republic of Indonesia, which can only be cured after a long
time, as we have experienced with the DI-TII [Darul Islam-
Tentara Islam Indonesia, Islamic Army of Indonesia]"; Pilihan
Tulisan, II, 378. There are several possibilities that Aidit
might have had in mind, among them the likelihood that the army
would continue to exercise great authority as long as the rebel-
lion dragged on.144
23
the possibility of a coup, which imperiled all parties, there
was also the danger that the officer corps would soon begin to
turn on the PKI. The latter's support of the army in the
regional crisis, and its willing participation in the Civil-
Military Cooperation Bodies, offered the party no insurance
once the regional challenge was subdued. For protection, the
PKI had to rely on Soekarno, and in order to avoid being iso-
lated, it was also imperative to continue to maintain the united
front. At the party meeting in April, however, Aidit warned
that the right wing of the nationalist middle-group had been
taken in by the "anti-Communism" slogan of Masjumi-PSI.24
Indeed, with more PNI regional leaders joining in the
open condemnation of the PKI, there was increased pressure
within the PNI for it to undertake an all-out attack on the
Communists.25 Anti-PKI arguments received a boost from the
rebellion, for both national and regional leaders now began to
fear that with the weakening of Masjumi the PKI would turn all
its energies to destroying the PNI, a possibility that seemed
quite real after the regional elections. Two weeks after the
PRRI ultimatum, Suwirjo himself fired a short volley at the
PKI by comparing the PRRI with the Madiun rebellion as a nation-
al disaster.26
Despite the PKI spectre, however, the PNI remained
optimistic about its position in the government. This was
mainly due, perhaps, to a misreading of Soekarno1s intentions.
Many assumed that once the rebellion was suppressed there would
be a partial return to party government, with the PNI succeed-
ing to the central place in the cabinet. For with Masjumi out
23
Aidit approached the army problem by attacking those
who looked to Egypt as their example. He warned against an un-
critical imitation of the Egyptian experiences "The PKI and
the Indonesian people will oppose with all their might . . .
any policy which increases the possibility of extra-parliamen-
tary activity and coups"; Pilihan Tulisan, II, 417.
24Ibid., p. 415.
25
In January, A. K. Gani, newly elected chairman of the
South Sumatran PNI regional council, declared that the PKI's
support of the Pantjasila was nonsense. It was merely a tactic,
for Communists would obey only the commands of the USSR (Mimbar
Umum, Jan. 11, 1958). In November 1957, an anonymous PNI
leader told Pedoman (Nov. 15), that he believed the PNI party
council would finally be forced to follow the party's regional
branches against the PKI.
9 A
Abadi, Feb. 27, 1958. Suwirjo also included the
Republic of the South Moluccas rebellion, the Andi Aziz (Sula-
wesi) rebellion, and the Darul Islam in his condemnation.145
of the way, it was supposed that ultimately Soekarno would not
permit the PKI to occupy too powerful a position. According
to this view, it followed that he would turn to the PNI to
develop a radical nationalist governing force. In April and
May a cabinet reshuffle appeared possible, in which the PNI
was generally expected to be the main beneficiary. PNI-sympa-
thizing journals, among them the weekly Pesat and the daily
Merdeka, began to refer to the PNI as the chief supporter of
the cabinet and the key party for determining government policy
The importance the party was assumed to have is indicated by
the fact that two formerly non-party Ministers—Subandrio and
Sadjarwo—joined the PNI sometime in the first half of 1958.27
Enjoying these apparent advantages, the PNI became
more assertive in April and May, moving at the same time to
strengthen its position in the Government and to pull away from
the PKI, hoping somehow to set the latter up for an eventual
deadly attack. The PNI's growing open hostility to the PKI
was probably encouraged by what seemed to be a Government swing
to the right as the rebellion declined in April—reducing the
PKI's political leverage28—and as efforts began in May to im-
prove Djakarta-Washington relations.
From the 27th to the 30th of April the executive com-
mittee of the PNI National Congress met in Semarang, Hadisu-
beno's home ground, to discuss party policy. The meeting was
generally regarded as an important one, for, as Merdeka put it,
with the decline of Masjumi the influence of the PNI would cer-
tainly grow; its decisions in Semarang would therefore have
27
Mimbar Umum, May 22, 1958. That Sadjarwo joined the
party is especially significant. As a former member of the Com
munist peasant organization, BTI, he was one of those whom
anti-Communist groups wanted out of the cabinet. Foreign Minis
ter Subandrio was brought into the party and given a seat on
the party council on the decision of Suwirjo himself, on the
supposition that this would not only enhance the PNI's position
in the cabinet but also make several ambassadorships available
to the party faithful. Several PNI leaders were angered by
Suwirjo's action, because he had failed to consult the party
council on the matter and, too, because some felt Subandrio
ought to work his way up in the party.
The PNI's apparent strength was also illustrated in
the number of central positions which its members held in the
government:	Sartono, Speaker of Parliament; Hardi, First Vice-
Premier; Wilopo, Chairman of the Konstituante; Roeslan Abdul-
gani, Vice-Chairman of the National Council.
28
See Feith, Decline of Constitutional Democracy,
pp, 589-590.146
significance not only for the Government, but for the future
of the party system as well.29 PNI leaders easily affirmed
their support of the Government's policies against the rebellion
and also produced an unconvincing statement on party self-cor-
rection. 30 on the PKI issue, the advantage had by this time
shifted to the regional PNI view, and the Congress finally
issued a formal slap at the PKI by condemning the Madiun rebel-
lion. It also carefully condemned all foreign intervention in
terms broad enough to include both blocs.3! In June, Slamat
Ginting of the PNI was to assert that there was no longer any
reason for confusion about the PNI's attitude towards the PKI,
for never, before the Semarang conference, he said, had there
been an official PNI resolution branding the Madiun rebellion
as a national betrayal.33
But, as many in the anti-Communist camp asked: so what?
Masjumi, NU, the PSI, Christian parties, and much of the inde-
pendent press were delighted at the growing split between the
PNI and the PKI, but they also pointed out that anti-Communist
verbiage alone was hardly enough. They continued to press the
PNI for an anti-Communist alliance or for some indication of
just what the PNI intended to do about the PKI. The PNI, how-
ever, had chosen to stand squarely in the middle of a polarized
situation. From February through June it staked all its chips
on acquiring a fortress position in the Government, from whence
it would be easier to deal with the PKI. But the PNI grossly
overestimated its political advantages, underestimated Soekarno1s
pique with the party, and misinterpreted the new conditions
arising from the rebellion. The Cabinet reshuffle of June,
which brought the PNI and PKI to blows, showed the former to
be much weaker than was expected, with significant consequences
for the PNI and for the entire party world thereafter.
The Cabinet Reshuffle of June
The rebellion saved the Kabinet Karya, capping a year
of failure with great success. From April 1957 until February
2^Merdeka, April 26, 1958.
30
See Marhaenis Bergerak (Marhaenists on the Move, PNI
journal), III, 34-36.
31
For the full resolution of the Semarang meeting, see
Marhaenis Bergerak, III, 30-33. For other comments on the
conference, which was discussed in the press mainly in terms
of the PNI's support of the government, see Pesat, XIV, no. 18
(May 3, 1958), 3y Basis (Catholic Monthly), VII, no. 9 (June
1958), 317.
32Pikiran Rakjat, June 7, 1958.147
1958 it bad accomplished very little. Quite apart from the
regional crisis, economic conditions bad grown steadily worse;
shortages of essential goods, particularly rice, and rising
prices grew constantly more serious. Inflation was spurred on
by the budget deficit policy resorted to in 1957 and the in-
creasing volume of money in circulation. The Government's
financial resources were depleted. On the political right the
cabinet faced an "I told you so" attitude towards the effects
of the December take-overs. From both the left and the right
there were demands for more goods at lower prices, demands
which even the Government-supporting parties took up, thus
dissociating themselves from the cabinet's responsibility for
economic conditions. Even so, it is not likely that the cabinet
would have resigned so long as the regional crisis continued;
for those who supported the Government against the regions had
too much at stake. But the authority of the cabinet suffered,
enough for Siasat to suggest in early February that the cabinet
might be seeking a more honorable issue than economic failure
upon which eventually to resign.33 However, the Padang ulti-
matum of February 10, the Government's forceful response in
March, and the course of the rebellion thereafter changed the
outlook completely. Economic decline continued after February,
and in fact became worse, but such considerations were over-
shadowed by the successful prosecution of the war against the
PRRI in the face of foreign hostility.34 Masjumi and the PSI
continued to demand the cabinet's resignation after the PRRI
rebellion began, but this position was politically meaningless.
By removing the primary opposition to the Government and to
Soekarno, the rebellion strengthened both.
This new-found security made possible consideration of
revising the cabinet. Besides marking the end of a period,
there were several other reasons for doing so. As a cabinet
of experts, it had shown technical weaknesses deserving of cri-
ticism. One weak link was the NU Minister of Trade, Soenardjo,
who it was generally agreed (outside of NU circles) should be
dropped. For those, like Djuanda, who wanted the Government
to turn to economic problems once the rebellion was under con-
trol, a cabinet revision to improve its personnel was necessary
"Kabinet Djuanda dapat bertahan terus, tapi ..."
(The Djuanda Cabinet can hold on, but . . .) in Siasat, XII,
no. 556 (Feb. 5, 1958), 3.
34
Merdeka, April 10, 1958, summed up the new position
of strength of the Kabinet Karya. Admitting that the cabinet
had displayed some weaknesses in the past, Merdeka thanked God
that it had come through in the final crisis: "as a result
the Kabinet Karya has found its proper character—as a cabinet
of struggle, confronting challenges from within and without,
which, it is hoped will clear the way hereafter for the devel-
opment of the state and the nation."148
and would symbolize new priorities. It was the hope of such
men that making changes in the cabinet would involve a minimum
of political bargaining and that it would remain primarily a
business cabinet intended to deal with national problems, free
of narrow political considerations. These hopes were to be
disappointed.
One of Soekarno's aims in the reshuffle was to bring
the Sultan of Jogjakarta into the cabinet, in order to buttress
the government's authority and help cement national unity. If
the Sultan accepted, this would belie the PRRI's claim that the
Djakarta Government was supported only by groups dependent upon
Soekarno and that it was therefore not truly a national govern-
ment. For the Sultan was an important, though not very out-
spoken, symbol of opposition to Djakarta's policies in the re-
gional crisis. Moreover, he had the additional advantage of
being trusted in American circles at a time when it was highly
desirable to ease relations with the United States. Sometime
in May and again in June, Djuanda and Soekarno invited the
Sultan to accept the post of Minister of Trade. They had been
led to believe that he would agree, apparently because of an
ambiguous remark that he had made. But in fact he was unwill-
ing, partly because of his disapproval of the Government's
uncompromising policy on the rebellion. His refusal was a dis-
appointment to the right wing, for it meant that there probably
would not be an effort to come to terms with the rebels. PNI
leaders, who had supported the Sultan, and many in the army
were also disappointed.35
It is not clear what else Soekarno wanted to achieve
in a reshuffle. It is unlikely that he considered a gotong-
rojong cabinet—i.e., one with the PKI in it. For one thing,
35
The offer to the Sultan was muted in the press. He
himself later denied that he had refused for policy reasons,
stating that his reasons were the same as when he last with-
drew from a cabinet. That had been in 1952, after the October
17th Affair, when he decided that he would not again become
embroiled in cabinet politics. See Siasat, XII, no. 579 (July
16, 1958), 5. It is possible that another reason for Soekarno's
desire to bring the Sultan into the cabinet was that the Sultan's
immense prestige and popularity in ethnic Java (and his accep-
tability in other areas) made him a potential rival whom it
would be better to have associated with the government than
outside of it. Soekarno, Hatta, and the Sultan had always been
the three best known leaders in the country. For a roundabout
comment with the above implication, see Sikap, July 3, 1958,
p. Is "Hamengkubuwono is not only important as a single indi-
vidual, but also he represents a certain political force that
bears weight." See also Siasat, XII, no. 577 (July 2, 1958),
3, and Surabaja Post, July 2, 1958, for comments on the absence
of the Sultan in the reshuffled cabinet.149
the army was opposed to this. Second, it would not help to
relax tensions with America. And third, a four-party cabinet
would have to include Masjumi, which Soekarno did not want in
the Government. Possibly, therefore, he saw the advantages of
a cabinet revision in terms of consolidation, improvement, and
a new program to signify political graduation to a new stage of
development. But the politics of the reshuffle quickly became
complicated.
The possibility of a cabinet change immediately became
entangled with the possibility of a change in policy towards
the rebellion. Groups which had opposed the Government since
early 1957 saw this as their last chance to force a reversal
of Djakarta politics by achieving a new cabinet committed to
compromise with the PRRI. Nasution and the General Staff wanted
a revision that would at least make the cabinet acceptable to
rebel army leaders and encourage them to give up their fight.
Partly connected with this, the anti-Communist parties
and army leaders sought to eliminate all Ministers considered
to be Communist or simply too far to the left. These included,
most prominently, Sadjarwo, Prijono, Chaerul Saleh, Hanafi
(particularly)—all of them on the radical left but non-Commu-
nist—and to a lesser extent Tobing and Sudibjo. In late May
and June there were rumors that Tobing's Ministry of State for
Inter-regional Relations—especially galling to the regions—
and Hanafi's Ministry would be abolished.3θ Djuanda seems to
have wanted to drop Hanafi at least, both because of his polit-
ical views and because his ministry was in no way useful.
Vehement anti-Communist groups insisted that all these men be
removed from the cabinet to prove that Indonesia was not be-
coming a Communist state.37
Understandably, the strongest opposition to a cabinet
revision came from the PKI, for whom any prospect of a reshuffle
appeared to be immensely dangerous, coming as it did at a time
when the PNI was hostile, the Government was seeking to reduce
tensions with the U.S., and there was considerable pressure to
end the rebellion by compromise. So far as the possible removal
36Pesat, XIV, no. 25 (June 21, 1958), 7.
37
See Pemuda, June 3, 1958. In May, an anti-Communist
organization called the LAKRI (Liga Anti-Komunis Rakjat Indo-
nesia, Anti-Communist League of the Indonesian People) called
for a cabinet reshuffle in which Soekarno should replace
"several Ministers suspected of being Communists or who benefit
the Communists." This was.necessary, said LAKRI, to restore
the confidence of the world in Indonesia, and especially that
of Indonesia's neighbors, such as Singapore, Malaya, Australia,
and the Philippines. See Pemandangan, May 31, 1958. Pemuda
denied there were Communists in the cabinet.150
of Hanafi and others was concerned, this was alarming to the
PKI not because these men were Communists, but rather because
any marked shift to the right was inherently perilous to the
party.38 To prevent a reshuffle, the PKI undertook a campaign
beginning in late April and May to identify efforts in that
direction as pro-PRRI and pro-United States. On May 1, Aidit
accused America of trying to establish a Masjumi-NU Cabinet
which, when the PRRI challenge had been overcome, would be able
to force the PKI and the PNI into opposition; alternatively,
the United States would try, said Aidit, by establishing a
Masjumi-NU-PNI Cabinet, to divide the nation—i.e., to isolate
the PKI. At the same time, according to Aidit, the U.S. was
encouraging certain groups in the army to force Soekarno to
accept this new cabinet.39 Conditions would thus be created,
he said, for replacing the present army leadership with offi-
cers trusted by America, for reestablishing Masjumi and the
PSI, and for strengthening colonialism in West Irian. He de-
clared that the PKI wanted the Kabinet Karya to continue as it
was. The only acceptable alternative was a gotong-roJong
cabinet—which Aidit undoubtedly realized was an unlikely
possibility.40
The PNI and NU regarded the prospect of a cabinet re-
shuffle from a traditional parliamentary point of view. Once
the momentary unity forged by the regional crisis disappeared,
they were again competitive, and questions of bargaining
strength and the number of available portfolios became crucial.
In late March and April the two parties began to make their
bids. On March 24th NU handed the cabinet a memorandum of
policy proposals on economic problems and government organiza-
tion—a remarkable display of initiative by any party in the
38
Of the six ministers under attack for their political
views, the PKI defended all but Chaerul Saleh; between Chaerul
and the Communists no love was lost. See Harian Rakjat, June
26, 1958.
39
"Kalahkan Konsepsi Politik Amerika Serikat" (Defeat
the Political Conception of the United States), in Pilihan
Tulisan, II, 444-454, at p. 450. Although for obvious reasons
Aidit overemphasized the role of the United States, his analysis
was on the right track.
40
Ibid. Raising the spectre of a Hatta or Masjumi
Cabinet, Aidit said: "In the present situation no Indonesian
patriot is willing to see Masjumi and PSI leaders, who have led
the PRRI or who at least have not condemned the PRRI, sit at
the top of the government. Also, men like Hatta who oppose the
struggle to liberate West Irian, and who have given great moral
support to the PRRI rebels, cannot be expected by the majority
of the Indonesian people to stand at the helm of the Indonesian
government" (p. 451). On the PKI attitude towards the Kabinet
Karya, see also the speech by Sakirman on the 38th anniversary
of the PKI, Harian Rakjat, May 28, 1958.151
Kabinet Karya, but especially so for NU. Nothing came of the
note, but it served to emphasize that NU was in the cabinet
and would work to stay there.41 on April 8th, the PNI issued
its first comprehensive policy statement since 1956. Unlike
the NU note, which in several respects seemed to be a serious
effort to cope with outstanding economic problems, the PNI
statement was more like an old party platform. In addition to
laying down party policy on everything from forestry to external
affairs, it also promised a struggle against inefficiency,
bureaucracy, and colonial laws—clich^d negative symbols in
use since the revolution.42 Both parties made a point of
stressing the continuation of parliamentary institutions and
the ir improvement.
It soon appeared, however, that the PNI held the polit-
ical advantage. Having some confidence in achieving a position
of political primacy within the government, it is not surpris-
ing that the PNI was the first to propose a cabinet reshuffle
to Soekarno—probably after the Semarang meeting at the end of
April.43 But if the PNI's optimism was justified, NU was in
41
Surabaja Post, March 28, 1958. The memorandum sug-
gested, inter alia, that to conserve funds the cabinet ought to
be simplified, with less important ministries being merged
into larger ones. It also proposed that the government speed
up implementation of regional autonomy laws, allow free impor-
tation of goods for a limited period of time to build up govern-
ment rupiah holdings for development, centralize economic and
financial policy-making responsibilities, and create new regula-
tions on the transferral of Dutch property rights. There were,
of course, important economic advantages to be gained from some
of these measures by NU clientele. Generally on economic policy,
the NU note said that more economic activity should be left to
community initiative, with the government's role being limited
to guidance. This position was out of line with predominant
government economic thinking. NU supporters, primarily Islamic
merchants and landholders in East Java, were beginning to feel
something of an economic squeeze, and the threat of more exten-
sive government economic control was not greeted favorably.
42
See Marhaenis Bergerak, III, 4-29.
43
In his party anniversary speech of July 3, 1958,
Suwirjo said: "possibly it was the PNI which first of all pro-
posed to the Formateur (at the beginning of 1958) that the
Kabinet Karya be reshuffled after ... working for about 10
months. This proposal was based on considerations of streng-
thening the Cabinet." See. Almanak Umum Nasional 1959 (Djakarta:
Endang, 1959), p. 393. However, Pedoman reported in May that
Suwirjo told Soekarno after the Semarang meeting that the party
leadership was divided, some wanting a reshuffle—evidently the
majority—and some not. See Basis, VII, no. 4 (June 1958),
317-318.152
danger of losing out; and at the very least, NU stood to lose
the profitable Ministry of Trade, if not to the Sultan, then
to the PNI. Thus there seemed nothing to be gained by NU in a
reshuffle, and it joined the PKI in opposing it. Of the govern
ment-supporting parties, therefore, only the PNI was strongly
in favor of a reshuffle.
In mid-May, the PKI anti-reshuffle campaign went into
high gear and ran right over the PNI. The PKI had ignored the
PNI's hostile gesticulations of April, but Communist restraint
came to an end under the threat they saw in new diplomatic ap-
proaches between Djakarta and Washington. On May 12th, Ambas-
sador Jones visited Suwirjo at the latter's home for a long
talk. The next day, the PNI announced that it would not take
part in an anti-foreign intervention demonstration organized
by the PKI for May 16th.44	& day later, the Djakarta military
administration forbade the demonstration on grounds that it
came too near National Awakening Day (May 20th).45 on the 20th
Dulles made his conciliatory remark, on the 21st came the
announcement that the U.S. would send small arms, and on the
22nd Soekarno and Jones had lunch together.46 The ominous
atmosphere which these events created for the PKI prompted it
finally to launch an attack on the PNI, immediately after
Suwirjo's talk with Jones and the PNI's withdrawal from the
demonstration. Mainly through a whisper campaign, the PKI
charged the PNI with deceit, disregard of the national interest
and indecision on the rebellion. Suwirjo was accused of having
talked with Jones about compromise with the rebels, and it was
said that Jones had influenced the PNI decision not to join the
demonstration.47 At the same time, the United States was ac-
cused of working to create a new right wing cabinet which would
44
Pesat, XIV, no. 22 (May 31, 1958), 4. According to
Pesat, the PKI had organized the demonstration without first
consulting the PNI. It had simply announced that the "Big
Four" parties would take part and then informed them later.
For the announcement, see Harian Rakjat, May 9, 1958. Appar-
ently the PKI had hoped thus to emphasize its own patiotic ini-
tiative, PKI-PNI-NU solidarity, and Masjumi's isolation, for
the latter obviously would not participate.
45
For the PKI's resentful reactions, see Harian Rakjat,
May 16, 1958.
46
See Merdeka, May 23, 1958, under the headline "Diplo-
matic Activity Coming to a Head." In the same issue, Merdeka
reported without comment a statement by Deputy Secretary of
State Robert Murphy to the effect that the PKI parroted the
line of the Soviet Union in its attacks on the United States.
See Pesat, XIV, no. 22 (May 31, 1958), 4, for a de-
fense of the PNI against these charges.153
overturn all that had been achieved in defeating the PRRI's
goals.48
As nearly the entire left-wing press took up these
cries, the PNI found itself identified with pro-United States
and -PRRI views. The newspaper Pemuda, a sensationalist sheet
which tried hard and often successfully to reflect Soekarno's
point of view, all but accused Suwirjo of intriguing with
Jones to change the government—to restore party control—and
to work out a compromise with the rebels, which Jones was widely
believed to be urging upon the Government.48 Neither Suwirjo
nor Jones was in a position to do much intriguing at this time,
but Pemuda1s attack illustrates the awkward corner into which
the PNI was drifting. Soekarno did not want an unrestrained
rush to the right either internationally or domestically, but
that is where the PNI seemed definitely to be heading. On
June 9th, Soekarno made a gesture towards restoring the cold
war balance by lunching with Soviet Ambassador Zhukov.
(Suwirjo followed suit late in June, after the reshuffle, by
meeting with Zhukov.) And in any case if Soekarno sought to
relax tensions with the United States, that did not mean he
was willing to see the PKI seriously weakened, for the party
remained important to him in the balance of internal forces.
By its animosity towards the PKI, the PNI proved itself to be
"Communistophobic"—Soekarno's caustic characterization of
those who feared the left—and threatened to create a split
among the elements supporting Soekarno.
The PNI was compelled to respond to the accusations
levelled against it, and in a formal reply published on May 24th
made its view of the PKI perfectly clear. It reiterated the
decisions of the Semarang conference which rejected compromise
with the PRRI—thus fulfilling at least one objective of the
48Harian Rakjat, May 22, 1958.
49
Pemuda, May 16, 1958, an editorial entitled "Tukar
Fikiran?" (Exchanging Ideas?), and Pesat, cited supra, n. 47.
Pemuda was known until late in 1959 as the closest thing to
being Soekarno's mouthpiece. Its editor, Notosoetardjo, was a
leading member of the Djakarta PNI until July 1958, when he
was dismissed from the party as a result of his frequent attacks
on the Suwirjo leadership. Actually it was Pemuda and other
journals which carried the attack on the PNI in May more than
Harian Rakjat? the latter seldom used overly harsh words in
referring to the PNI.
50
Merdeka, June 10, 1958. During the whole period of
working out the Djakarta-Washington rapprochement, Harian Rakjat,
Bintang Timur, Sin Po, and Pemuda demanded great caution in
dealing with America, reminding the nation of American support
of the PRRI and displaying deep distrust of Washington's appar-
ent about-face. See Pemuda, May 10, 23, 1958.154
PKI—but it also condemned all foreign intervention, now adding
specifically, "from the American bloc, or from the Soviet bloc."
The statement further warned the public that the PKI ("a group")
considered that it was time to direct its efforts against the
PNI, now "that the right wing in the political party world of
Indonesia has experienced decline and political bankruptcy."51
Finally, PNI leaders affirmed their determination to stand in
the middle, fighting off the dangers to the state from the
liberal-capitalistic-reactionary right wing and the totalitarian-
internationalistic left.52
A series of blistering attacks on the PKI followed. In
early June the East Javanese PNI demonstrated astounding in-
sensitivity to the nuances of Indonesian foreign policy and
the predilections of Soekarno by declaring that the PKI's cam-
paign for abolition of SEATO (in connection with foreign inter-
vention) proved the Communists were a channel for foreign pro-
paganda, because SEATO was not an internal affair of the Indo-
nesian Government.53 The PKI declined to reply, leaving it to
national PNI leaders to qualify the awkward position of their
own branch.54 On June 14th, the PNI affiliated student organ-
ization, GMNI, also warned the nation against Communism, though
in a more reasoned statement than that of the East Javanese
PNI.55 Masjumi, NU, the PSI, and Christian parties heaped
accolades upon the initiatives of the East Javanese PNI and the
According to the statement, "This destruction of the
right-wing has created a propitious situation for a certain
group ... to direct its attention, energy, and attacks towards
the PNI in a frontal and systematic way."
52For the full statement, "PNI Mendjawab" (The PNI
Answers), see Marhaenis Bergerak, III, 39-42. See also Suluh
Indonesia, May 24; Nusantara, May 28, 1958.
53
Pedoman, June 3? Pemuda, June 3, 1958.
54
Suwirjo said on July 4 that the PNI could not condone
such military pacts as NATO and SEATO. See Almanak Umum Nasignal
1959, p. 389.
55
Pedoman, June 17, 1958. The GMNI (Gerakan Mahasiswa
Nasional Indonesia, Indonesian National Student Movement) said,
among other things, that to prevent Indonesia from becoming a
Communist state the government must effect rapid economic
development. But it recognized this to be difficult in times
that were not politically calm. K. Werdojo, a SOBSI leader,
replied with the argument that emphasis should be on national
problems, not international ones, and that the Communists did
not have ulterior motives. Pedoman, June 18, 1958.155
GMNI, calling at the same time, however, for PNI deeds as well
as words.56
Meanwhile, in late May and June, the politics of the
cabinet reshuffle became more tense. Soekarno had made no
public commitment at all to revise the cabinet, and until about
the second week in June it was assumed that he was open to
persuasion from either side. From the Communist and allied
press poured forth a constant stream of vituperation against
those who wanted a reshuffle and accusations that they were
inspired by the United States and the PRRI.57 The American
press was reporting at the time that Djakarta had given assur-
ances to Washington on the Communist problem; on May 28th,
Allan Pope's capture in the Moluccas was announced, and in June
(just a few days before the reshuffle was completed) the daily
press published a pro-PRRI letter allegedly written by Admiral
Frost to Alex Kawilarang. Taking advantage of the anti-
American ire aroused by these events, the PKI raised blunt
questions about U.S. motives in finally extending arms aid.
On May 23rd and again on June 9th, Djuanda felt constrained to
deny that any concessions had been made to the U.S.58 The PKI
was thus able to make any attempt to eliminate the left wing
ministers of the cabinet seem like a giving-in to American
demands.59 NU leaders picked up most of the PKI's themes.
Wahib Wahab declared that the real purpose of changing the
cabinet would be to benefit the PRRI. Those who were intriguing
with foreigners to force a reshuffle, he charged, were covering
up their intentions by claiming that the cabinet needed improv-
ing or that weak ministers must be replaced.θθ Over the din
of this PKI-NU opposition, the PNI and its supporters tried to
argue that a reshuffle would only mean strengthening the cabinet,
not altering the Government's policies.θΐ
5^See Pedoman, June 20, 28· Pikiran Rakjat, June 12,
18; Nusantara, June 8; Mimbar Umum, June 13, 1958.
57
See, for example, Harian Rakjat, June 9, 1958; Pesat,
XIV, no. 25 (June 21, 1958), 5-6.
58
Merdeka, June 10; Harian Rakjat, June 10, 1958.
59
On June 23, Djody Gondokusumo, speaking on behalf of
the National Progressive parliamentary fraction, told the press
that in the event of a reshuffle, it should not be based on
American desires. To avoid the impression that it was—and this
was the same argument used by the PKI—weak ministers should be
replaced with "progressives," not "reactionaries" (Pemuda,
June 24, 1958).
Harian Rakjat, June 6, 11, 1958.
61
Suluh Indonesia, Merdeka, and the weekly Pesat cam-
paigned in favor of a reshuffle. For the best discussions of
the pro-reshuffle point of view, see Pesat, XIV, no. 22 (May 31,156
While the PNI press reported the imminence of a re-
shuffle and the PKI and NU denied every such intimation/ Soe-
karno said nothing until June 14th. On that day/ in Surabaja/
he was greeted by an anti-reshuffle demonstration/ probably
organized by the PKI. Speaking to the crowd he made it clear
that there would be no change of policy on the rebellion· but
he hinted broadly that there would be changes in the cabinet,
and the people need only wait and see the results of his con-
sideration of all the problems involved.62
The effectiveness of the PKI campaign, together with
his own reluctance to deflect policy on the rebellion or dras-
tically to weaken his support from the left and his growing
discouragement with the PNI, evidently all worked together to
decide Soekarno on keeping the cabinet much as it was. But the
political negotiations involved in the reshuffle were as tough
as in any party cabinet of previous years. Soekarno's inten-
tion of maintaining the PNI-NU balance in the cabinet gave NU
leaders an unexpected advantage during the last hectic days of
bargaining.They agreed to relinquish Soenardjo, who was
later given an ambassadorship, so long as he was replaced by
another NU appointee. In addition, they insisted on another
cabinet post to redress the PNI-NU balance, upset when Subandrio
and Sadjarwo joined the PNI. Adding two new NU ministers ap-
peared to some observers to be also an effort to balance the
1958), 3· no. 24 (June 14), p. 3; no. 25 (June 21), pp. 3 and 5;
no. 26 (June 28), p. 3; and no. 27 (July 5), p. 3.
^Merdeka, June 16, 1958; Pesat, XIV, no. 25 (June 21,
1958), 3-4. The day after the Surabaja episode, Antara News
bureau reported that Soekarno had said that he would neither
dissolve nor reshuffle the cabinet. Harian Rakjat ran the re-
port triumphantly on June 16. Antara later corrected its re-
port, possibly after a word from the Palace, but Harian Rakjat
did not. Whether this was a last minute effort to block the
reshuffle is not clear, but some, including Pesat, thought so.
In his remarks to the crowd, Soekarno also said that
many had asked him about the reshuffle, even some army officers
who feared that there would be a change in policy favoring the
rebels. This may have been a warning by Soekarno to those in
the army who wanted a softer policy on the rebellion.
63
On June 23, one of a few such days, Soekarno met
with a wide range of men in connection with the reshuffle.
They included Djuanda, Roeslan Abdulgani, Subandrio, and Nasu-
tion. Political attention was centered on PNI and NU leaders
by this time, Soekarno seeing a delegation of the former led
by Suwirjo and Hardi, and of the latter led by Idham Chalid,
Wahab Chasbullah, Wahib Wahab, and Zainul Arifin. (Harian
Rakjat, June 24, 1958).157
influence of the Communists. The "leftist" ministers were all
retained, although Hanafi's ministry was abolished and Tobing's
had its name changed. Soekarno himself decided to bring into
the cabinet Moh. Yamin, the historian and longtime radical-
nationalist ideologue. A ministry was also given to the army
in the person of Col. Suprajogi, formerly regional commander
of West Java. On June 25th, the reshuffled cabinet was an-
nounced as follows:
Prime Minister
First Vice-Prime Minister
Second Vice-Prime Minister
Third Vice-Prime Minister
Foreign Affairs
Internal Affairs
Defense
Justice
Information
Finance
Industry
Trade
Agriculture
Navigation
Public Works and Power
Labor
Health
Religion
Education and Culture
Agrarian Affairs
Communications
Veterans Affairs
Social Affairs
Ministry of State for
Transmigration Affairs
Ministry of State for
Economic Stabilization
Ministry of State for
Civil Military Relations
Minister of State without
Portfolio
Minister of State without
Portfolio
Ir. H. Djuanda (non-party)
Mr. Hardi (PNI)
K. H. Idham Chalid (NU)
Dr. J. Leimena (Parkindo)
Dr. Subandrio (PNI)
Sanusi Hardjadinata (PNI)
Ir. H. Djuanda
Maengkom (PNI)
Sudibjo (PSII)
Mr. Sutikno Slamet (PNI)
Ir. F. J. Inkiriwang (non-party)
*Rachmat Muljoamiseno (NU)
Mr. Sadjarwo (PNI)
Commodore (Navy) Nazir
Ir. Pangeran Moh. Noor (formerly
Masjumi)
Mr. Samjono (non-party)
Dr. Col. Aziz Saleh (IPKI)
K. H. Iljas (NU)
Prof. Dr. Prijono (Murba)
Mr. Sunarjo (NU)
Mr. Sukardan (non-party)
Chaerul Saleh (non-party)
Muljadi Djojomartono (formerly
Masjumi)
**Dr. F. L. Tobing (SKI)
*Col. (Army) Suprajogi
*Wahib Wahab (NU)
**A.M. Hanafi (non-party)
*Mr. Moh. Yamin (GPPS)64
* New minister
** In previous cabinet with different portfolio
64
Yamin was given the task of liaison with the
Konstituante, and Hanafi with Parliament and the National
Council. Neither function had a great deal of significance,
but both men were close to Soekarno, and this meant that they
would be more his representatives than the cabinet's.158
The army's role in this cabinet requires some comment.
Wahib Wahab's primary function was to maintain contact with the
National Front for the Liberation of West Irian (FNPIB) and the
civil-military cooperation bodies, which Djuanda said would now
be used for purposes of economic development under the Govern-
ment' s direction.These bodies were in fact in no state to
be really useful; nor was Wahab able to assert effective con-
trol over the military-run organizations. But the establish-
ment of this ministry did create a formal tie between the
Government and the army's political brainchild, constituting a
kind of recognition of the legitimacy of the endeavor. Supra-
jogi's appointment was more important. In part, the Government
hoped that through him the army would be able to end the illegal
smuggling and barter activities of military commanders in the
outer islands; in this Suprajogi did not enjoy complete success,
though smuggling operations did diminish somewhat by 1959.θθ
The new minister was also to lead the Bureau for Economic
Stabilization, which Djuanda created on May 19, 1958, in part
at least on the urging of army leaders. Its functions were
less important ultimately than the fact that the army was now
in the cabinet and had specific responsibilities, for the exe-
cution of which it could be blamed or praised. Economic con-
ditions were to grow worse, not better.
Like the reshuffled cabinet itself, the new Government
program was nearly the same as the old one. Only the first
item of the program was changed, from establishment of the
National Council to establishment of a National Planning Coun-
cil, which Soekarno regarded as a significant step towards the
planned economy part of Guided Democracy. The rest of the pro-
gram was as before: 2) to normalize the situation of the re-
public—i.e., to end the rebellion; 3) to continue the struggle
for West Irian; and 4) to speed up development. It remained
Soekarno's program.
^See Djuanda's statement to Parliament on July 4,
1958, in Ichtisar Parlemen (IP, Summaries of Parliamentary
Debates), 1958, p. 741.
66
Smuggling at Atjeh was particularly troublesome. In
the second half of 1958, the Atjehnese military command agreed
to an arrangement whereby it would keep only 30 per cent of the
foreign exchange realized from local exports—an arrangement
similar to the one Atjeh had enjoyed before it decided to keep
all the foreign exchange in 1957. But the new agreement was
not carried out completely. Moreover, despite the assurances
of Col. Sjamaun Gaharu, commandant of Atjeh, following a new
regulation in September that no more barter licenses would be
issued as of September 10th, "technical difficulties" prevented
complete prohibition of barter. See Nusantara, Aug. 27; Siong
Po (Atjeh), Sept. 22; Patriot, Oct. 24; Tjerdas, Nov. 29, 1958.159
The cabinet also remained Soekarno's, and this was per-
haps the most significant, though not surprising, political
aspect of the reshuffle. In effect, the process of the cabinet
revision formalized the conclusion to which the rebellion had
brought the political battles of 1957. The system of the
Kabinet Karya, and all that it implied—non-parliamentarianism,
anti-parliamentarianism, Soekarno's accession to power without
constitutional investiture, the freezing of the parties out of
power—was consolidated. Diffusion of authority and a certain
political tentativeness, however, continued to characterize
the Kabinet Karya system, which was so well suited to this
politically transitional period of 1957-1958. Along with
Soekarno's, Djuanda's position was spotlighted by the reshuffle
Although his restrained political style and views made him
seem neither more nor less influential than he was in 1957, he
was in fact stronger, more assertive, and more confident. That
he remained both Prime Minister and Minister of Defense indi-
cated his usefulness and acceptability to Soekarno and army
leaders. He drew strength from having led the cabinet through
Indonesia's most challenging trial. In his statement to
Parliament after the reshuffle, Djuanda devoted almost the
entire speech to a review of the rebellion, foreign hostility
and intervention, and the Government's firm response.6? He
rightly shared the credit for keeping the state together, and
now that his office was renewed, he consequently was able to
speak with greater confidence. Within the limits of political
possibility, he attempted with some success to lead the Govern-
ment authoritatively after the reshuffle, acting as something
of a brake on Soekarno and army leaders and as a moderator be-
tween the various foci of political power.
Party reactions to the reshuffle were naturally varied.
Its earlier opponents switched grounds and—as the PNI press
pointed out with profound resentment^—praised the revision
now as having strengthened and improved the cabinet. The PKI
was satisfied that there had been no change in the direction
of the cabinet's policies. As for the NU, it had not only
maintained but also, indeed, improved its position in the
cabinet· and afterwards, Kiaji Muslich, an NU parliamentary
leader who had ridiculed reshuffle efforts in early June, said
he felt more responsible than ever for defending the Kabinet
Karya to the very end.6^ On the other hand, Masjumi, the PSI,
and other groups who had vainly hoped the reshuffle would sig-
nify a political reversal, saw it as a confirmation of their
θ^ΙΡ/1958, pp. 728-741, session of July 4, 1958.
6^See especially Pesat, XIV, no. 27 (July 5, 1958),
3-4; Suwirjo's speech of July 3 in Almanak Umum Nasional 1959,
pp. 385-395.
69
Pesat, cited supra, n. 68, p. 4.160
worst fearss there would be no compromise with the rebels;
Soekarno was stronger, not weaker· and the star of the PKI still
seemed to be rising.
The PNI and the Re-emergence of Partindo
The PNI was bitterly disappointed and hurt by the re-
sults of the reshuffle, which to many seemed brilliantly to
illustrate the futility of the course PNI leaders had chosen
to follow since 1957. Not only had the party failed to regain
primacy in the government, but it was also out-maneuvered by
the PKI and out of touch with Soekarno. The PNI's apparent
centrality to the crucial issues of Communism and Guided Democ-
racy increased the frustration of other groups with it. More
than ever it seemed a weak and vacillating body, lacking dis-
cipline, firm leadership, integrity, and direction. Its failure
to undertake any meaningful reform called down upon PNI leaders
a barrage of abuse in the daily press after June. The party
was attacked, with considerable justification, for harboring
corruptors and profit-seekers, for the emptiness of its ideo-
logical professions, and for its utter paralysis in the middle
of the road.70 it is indicative that those who, on the one
hand, called it to the defense of parliamentary democracy and
those who, on the other, demanded of it an unhesitating commit-
ment to Soekarno, all agreed that the PNI must reform itself
into a progressive, revolutionary, radical, and dedicated
party.7l This it proved incapable of doing.
Long smoldering tensions within the PNI finally burst
into flame in July and August. Dependent for its binding force
more on common interest and mutual benefit than on ideology,
the party was never able to remain united out of power for more
than a short while; in the past it had suffered several minor
splits. In 1958, however, an eruption occurred that was more
serious both because of the PNI's critical lack of initiative
and because Soekarno appeared to have an active part in it.
In May, soon after the PNI meeting in Semarang, there
was a move to resuscitate the pre-war Partindo (Partai Indone-
sia), which Soekarno had led after the demise of the original
PNI in the early 1930's.72 Although personal grudges and
70
See Basis, VII, no. 10 (July 1958), 352; Indonesia
Raja, July 7, 10; Harlan Umum, July 8; Java Post, July 9;
Trompet Masjarakat, July 31, 1958.
71
See Merdeka, July 3; Indonesia Raja, July 10, 1958.
7 2
The symbolic potential of Partindo was considerable.
When the original PNI was dissolved after Soekarno's imprison-
ment in 1931, it was succeeded by two new organizations? the161
ambitions were also involved, the stated purpose of the effort
was to return to the nationalist principles which Soekarno had
enunciated in the 1930's and which the present PNI was accused
of having abandoned.73 Among those involved in the move were
two respected PNI leaders, Winoto Danuasmoro, who at the time
worked in the palace secretariat, and Winarno Danuatmodjo,
governor of South Sumatra until February 1958. Winarno had
been elected to the executive board of the PNI party congress
in Semarang (possibly to assuage his resentment at party lead-
ers for having supported his recall from Palembang in 1957,
following regionalist protests against him). Others initially
connected with the Partindo effort were Moh. Yamin, Asmara
Hadi, related by marriage to Soekarno, and Gatot Mangkupradja,
leader of the West Javanese Movement to Defend the Pantjasila
(GPPS) and Soekarno's co-defendant before the colonial court
in 1930.74 of these three, however, only Asmara Hadi finally
joined the new party.
Partindo, led by Sartono, and the PNI-Baru (New PNI) led first
by Sjahrir, then by Hatta. The PNI-Baru stood on a more radi-
cal socialist and class struggle platform than the Partindo,
emphasizing the need for cadre formation and political educa-
tion. The Partindo, on the other hand, was explicitly a mass
party. It defined its struggle as that of the Indonesian
People vs. Colonialism, while the PNI-Baru denied that all In-
donesian classes could be made to work together, because of the
inherent opposition of class interests in Indonesian society.
On his release from prison, and after much soul-searching,
Soekarno, having failed to unite the two organizations, decided
to join the mass party Partindo. Partindo, too, later dissolved
itself after Soekarno's arrest for the second time. Soekarno's
views have consistently remained the same in preferring the mass
organization approach. See Jan M. Pluvier, Overzicht van de
Ontwikkeling der Nationalistische Beweging in Indonesie
('s-Gravenhage, Bandung, 1953), pp. 49-50· A. iC Pringgodigdo,
Sedjarah Pergerakan Rakjat Indonesia (A History of the Movement
of the Indonesian People? Djakarta: Pustaka Rakjat, 1960), pp.
123-128.
73
See Kuang Po, May 10? Kedaulatan Rakjat, May 13,
June 3? Pikiran Rakjat, May 17, June 11? Pedoman, May 28, 1958,
for developments related to the establishment of Partindo.
^The GPPS (Gerakan Pembela Pantjasila) was originally
related to the PNI and designed to attract voters who thought
well of the ideology but were uncertain about the party. In
most areas the GPPS remained connected with the PNI, but in
West Java, for various personal and political reasons, Gatot
Mangkupradja pulled away from the parent party and ran the GPPS
as an independent organization—though he continued to profess
agreement with PNI principles. It was for this latter reason,
he said later, that he did not join Partindo (Pos Indonesia,
Aug. 6, 1958).162
In July Winarno and Winoto left the PNI, amidst blaring
headlines, in order to organize the Partindo openly. Early in
August, Winarno announced its rebirth; its leaders were Winarno,
Winoto, Asmara Hadi, Dr. Buntaran, Budiarto Martoatmodjo, and
several other long-time radical nationalists.75 During the
following months branches were set up in several regions of
Java and Sumatra, drawing a varied membership from the PNI and
a few other parties. Some no doubt joined because they be-
lieved Partindo to be a new and clean movement. Many more
joined because there was no way up for them in their former
parties or because they were convinced that Partindo was closely
associated with Soekarno and therefore a wave of the future.
Indeed, for a while in July and August there were rumors that
Soekarno would organize a single state party and abolish all
the rest· emerging when it did, Partindo seemed to be that
party, and as a result it attracted great attention.
Soekarno never admitted having anything to do with the
new party, and he assured Suwirjo that he remained independ-
ent; 'θ nevertheless, nothing would have come of Partindo with-
out his encouragement. Despite his own protest against the
great number of parties, he did not condemn the creation of
yet another one.'7 Like the PNI, Partindo claimed Marhaenism—
Soekarno's concept of Indonesian proletarianism—as its official
ideology. A debate ensued over which party espoused the true
Marhaenism. Partindo leaders argued that Marhaenism was Marx-
ism adjusted to Indonesian conditions. PNI leaders, denying
Partindo's accusation that they rejected Marxism, also denied
that Marhaenism was simply Marxism applied to Indonesia.78
75
Pos Indonesia, Aug. 6, 1958.
7 6
Pos Indonesia, Aug. 23; Suluh Indonesia, Aug. 27,
1958.
77
Pemuda, however, Aug. 28, 1958, attacked Partindo be-
cause it turned out to be just another party, rather than a
fusion of parties. The paper pointed out that Soekarno wanted
fewer parties, not more. It is possible that Soekarno did not
intend Partindo to emerge as a new party, but rather sought to
use the threat to goad the PNI into reform and unity behind
his program. As was often the experience in Indonesia, however,
leaders of the new party leapt at the chance to create a wholly
new organization with the prospects of even a little political
profit.
78
For the fullest statement of the PNI position in this
curiously ethereal debate, see the series of articles by Juti
(Sajuti) in Pesat beginning with the issue of Sept. 6, 1958
(Vol. XIV, no. 32)s "Persamaan dan Perbedaan antara Marhaenisme
dan Marxisme" (Similarities and Differences between Marhaenism
and Marxism).163
At the end of August, Soekarno gave the nod to Partindos
Marhaenism, said its creator, was Marxism adjusted to Indone-
sian circumstances.79 some PNI leaders took this as a hard
slap from the man whom many in the party looked upon as their
spiritual guide.
Partindo did not become a large party, despite its
later and electorally untested claims· nor did it cut seriously
into the top leadership of the PNI, who angrily regarded Par-
tindo as mainly an exercise in ambition. The slight influence
which it acquired was due almost entirely to the informal
association of its leaders with Soekarno. It was in effect a
patronage party, without political dynamism of its own; it
never developed effective party, labor, and peasant organiza-
tions. In several regions it received considerable help from
the PKI, with whom Partindo leaders were committed to cooperate
Indeed, the growing unwillingness of PNI leaders to work with
the PKI was one of the essential reasons for the Partindo
break.θθ Eventually, by 1960-1961, the PKI came to wield pre-
dominant influence over Partindo. Some PKI followers joined
Partindo, giving the latter bulk and enabling it to meet the
requirements laid down by a new law on political parties
drafted in 1959. Men with PKI connections in time assumed the
leadership of the party.
Besides indicating Soekarno1s displeasure with the PNI,
the immediate significance of Partindo's establishment was to
illustrate the serious decline and vulnerability of the PNI.
In early August, another (though minor) revolt in the PNI broke
out in Medan.θΐ Although there was no question that the PNI
would survive, it was in no condition to assert itself either
within or outside the government. Under attack for its decrep-
itude and its failure to do anything about declining economic
and political conditions, the increasingly demoralized PNI
79
Pos Indonesia, Aug. 25, 1958. Soekarno said this to
participants in a conference on Marhaenist education who came
to visit him at the Bogor palace. The group was headed by the
PNI leader, Mrs. Supeni.
80
Asmara Hadi was one of those who in 1957 praised the
PKI as working for a social revolution and insisted that the
PNI should work with it as long as there were similarities be-
tween Marxism and Marhaenism. See Harian Rakjat, Aug. 20,
1957.
81
See Tjerdas, Aug. 3; Mimbur Umum, Aug. 6; Harian
Umum, Aug. 8, 1958. The founders of the splinter group said
that past experience had shown the PNI to be a tool of personal
interests, and the new party would serve as a channel for the
views of its members. Ironically, the new splinter group was
named PNI-Baru (New PNI); see supra, n. 72.164
could only say—as it had said in the past—that it was no more
to blame than the other Government-supporting parties.82
In mid-1958, when Guided Democracy re-emerged as a
primary issue/ the weakness of both Masjumi and the PNI made
the defense of parliamentary institutions seem a poor cause.83
They gave no hope that a healthy parliamentary system could
yet be developed. Nor were these parties themselves capable
of putting up an effective defense of parliamentary democracy.
In contrast, the strength and dynamism of the PKI stood out in
nearly hypnotic relief. And when the parliamentary system came
under concerted attack in the second half of 1958, it was the
PKI which emerged as its staunchest defender.
Postponement of the Elections
The cabinet reshuffle of June marked the end of the
critical phase of the rebellion and the beginning of the drive
to develop Guided Democracy. By July and August, attention
was again focussed on the need to reform the political system,
with the political parties distinctly on the defensive against
the initiative of the National Council. At about the same time,
the question of holding the next parliamentary elections--due
in September 1959—was under consideration. In March the
national elections committee had announced that preparations
were to begin in May 1958.84 The prospect of an election within
a year and a half gave rise to grave concerns in the party world
82
Suluh Indonesia, Aug. 8, 1958.
83
Soon after the cabinet reshuffle, the Surabaja Post,
July 2, 1958, noted the disappointment of Western diplomats
that the left-wing ministers were still in the cabinet. In a
nicely reasoned comment on this, the Post said that this dis-
appointment followed from a failure to understand all the con-
siderations operative for the Indonesian people, including
Soekarno. One of these was the weakness of the middle of the
road (PNI) and right wing parties. It was dangerous to drive
the PKI into the opposition because the non-Communist parties
were not confident of their ability to improve deplorable con-
ditions in the country. If they failed, the Communists would
be the alternative leadership. The Post went on to advise
Western help for the democratic parties to enable them to im-
prove the welfare of the people, thus reducing the chances for
the PKI.
84
The national elections committee (Panitia Pemilihan
Indonesia, PPI) consisted of representatives of several parties,
including the four major ones. A new committee, with S. Hadi-
kusumo (PNI) as chairman, was appointed early in 1958 (Nusantara,
Feb. 5, 1958).165
and obvious doubts among anti-party groups, particularly the
army. It was here that the multiple forces which produced
Guided Democracy became most evident. For had the conflict of
parties vs. anti-parties been a simple one, the former might
have been expected to make a determined stand on holding elec-
tions in 1959. As it was, however, at a time when they were
trying to save the principle of representative government,
upon which their existence depended, most of the parties felt
compelled to sacrifice elections—the substance of the system—
primarily out of fear of the PKI's popular strength.
The essential fact about elections in 1959, from one
point of view, was that an overwhelming Communist victory
seemed inevitable. Only the PKI looked forward eagerly to an
electoral test. Its organization was in excellent shape, party
morale was high after the regional elections, and the PKI was
on the popular side of most significant national issues. Never
having been in the Government, it shared no responsibility for
deteriorating economic conditions in the country. At the CCPKI
meeting in early April, considerable emphasis was given to the
parliamentary struggle and to the need quickly to expand party
membership and electoral support.From a huge vote the
party could expect not only increased political leverage but,
it followed, a better chance of forcing a coalition govern-
ment . θθ
Conversely, the other parties had little to look for-
ward to from elections. Masjumi's prospects seemed hopeless,
for even had the party been otherwise capable of mounting a
strong campaign—which it was not—the areas of its strength
in Sumatra were in rebellion. The PNI, though in better shape
than Masjumi, clearly could not be optimistic, considering the
outcome of the regional elections and the continuing decline
of party organization and morale. NU might have been able to
hold its own, and perhaps even to pick up some of Masjumi's
support, but that too was questionable. In any event, it was
evident that neither the PNI nor NU, nor possibly even the two
together, could hold the PKI in check. Among anti-Communist
groups there was some fear that the PKI might win an absolute
majority in the next elections; thus the other parties would
be left collectively to enjoy the support of only a minority
of the electorate before being swept away completely in a Com-
munist deluge.
85
See Harian Rakjat, April 8, 1958, for the resolutions
of the April plenum.
88
Aidit told an AP.reporter in January that with an
election victory the PKI could hope for a coalition government
with several Communist ministers in the cabinet (Pedoman,
April 23, 1958).166
There were evident dangers for the PKI in these assess-
ments. One was that the other parties, the PNI and NU in par-
ticular, would not he disposed to face elections in 1959.
Another was that army leaders, not well disposed to elections
in any case, would bring pressure against holding them. Fur-
thermore, the likelihood of a Communist victory might also
reinforce an inclination elsewhere in the government—in the
cabinet and the National Council—to put off elections until a
new electoral system (less advantageous to the PKI) could be
devised.
The PSI was the first to propose reconsideration of
the elections, though others, most prominently Masjumi and the
Christian parties, were quick to follow. In April, soon after
the announcement of the new election schedule, the PSI press
launched a two pronged campaign. On the one hand, it argued,
reasonably, that there ought to be a new election system; for
it was, after all, the breakdown of the parliamentary system,
based on the elections of 1955, which had given rise to the
regional crisis, military dissidence, and President Soekarno's
Konsepsi and Guided Democracy. Elections under the old proce-
dure would not produce a more stable polity with a government
better able to reflect the will of the people. It was proposed
that proportional representation with multi-member districts
be eliminated in favor of the single member district, for the
ostensible reason that this would reduce the number of parties
and forge a closer relationship between constituent and repre-
sentative. A less public argument was that the single member
district system would work against the PKI—assuming the non-
Communist parties might join together in support of common
candidates in many districts.^? Later, accepting a tenet of
Guided Democracy, the PSI also proposed that attention should
be paid to the election of functional group representatives,
from the army among others.θθ
Also in April, the PSI-sympathizing daily, Pedoman,
pointed in warning at the victory of the Indian Communist Party
in Kerala. Accusing the PKI of the same sort of "trickery"—
posing as a respectable defender of parliamentary democracy in
order to grab power via elections—Pedoman clearly invited
others to draw tne necessary conclusion in favor of delaying
the elections. Economic conditions, it argued, were bad and
declining, and the Government had begun to depend on the Com-
munist bloc for credits, thereby giving the PKI a boost. The
PNI and NU were no longer really electorally competitive with
87pedoman, April 16, 1958; Sikap, XI, no. 19 (July 31,
1958), 1. Army leaders were in time captivated by the single
member district idea, primarily for its potential usefulness
against the PKI.
88
Sikap, cited supra, n. 87.167
the PKI because they had ignored the people's problems. The
PKI vote had risen from six to eight million between 1955 and
1957/ ran the argument, and it would not be surprising should
it become an absolute majority in 1959.θ9
Fearing that such views extended beyond the PSI and
Masjumi, as indeed they did, the PKI replied immediately,
starting a campaign of its own to head off efforts to postpone
the elections. It condemned all proposals to change the elec-
toral system, calling the idea of single member districts
obsolete and a tool of imperialist countries. In this it found
common ground with the PNI and NU, as well as many smaller
parties, which also saw a threat in the elimination of propor-
tional representation. The PKI charged, moreover, that any
delay in holding the elections would be an attack on the basic
constitutional rights and democratic freedoms of the people.90
And, as with the cabinet reshuffle, all attempts to postpone
the elections were loudly blamed on the United States and sup-
porters of the PRRI.91 At the same time, Communist leaders
denied predictions that the PKI would be the only victor at the
polls and greatly played down the party's strength. Aidit told
the Hungarian party newspaper, Nepszabadsag, that the PKI would
not try to win more than 25 per cent of the next Parliament,
and Lukman declared that rightist forces still balanced the
PKI and other democratic forces.92 Harian Rakjat's modest
prognosis was that Masjumi voters would shift to the PNI and
NU, provided these parties continued to oppose imperialism,
while the PKI's support would also increase.93
In June and July there were rumors that the elections
would be postponed. Local authorities in charge of registra-
tion and other pre-election matters were without funds, and
apparently their requests to Djakarta went unheeded.94 Masjumi
members of regional assemblies in a few areas, such as North
Sumatra, frantically urged resolutions against holding the
89
Pedoman, April 23? see also May 12, 1958.
90
Harian Rakjat, issues of April 24, May 13, May 17,
May 20, May 28 (Sakirman's speech), and June 10, 1958.
91Harian Rakjat, April 25, May 13, 1958.
92
Aidit, Pilihan Tulisan, II, 462. Harian Rakjat,
May 12? Pedoman, May 9, 1958.
93
Harian Rakjat, May 13, 1958.
94
Suara Rakjat, July 16? Surabaja Post, Aug. 28, 1958.168
95
elections. In an effort swiftly to develop popular pro-
election momentum, the PKI determinedly prepared registration
campaigns, while regional Communist leaders pushed very hard
to get election machinery in their areas moving.
But the PKI was virtually alone in these labors, the
PNI and NU showing little enthusiasm. A few leaders of these
two parties initially joined with the PKI in defending the
elections and attacking the Pedoman proposals.96 By August and
September, however, the PNI and to a lesser extent NU were
willing to see the elections postponed. When the PKI started
its registration campaign in Djakarta at the end of July, it
was obvious that neither the PNI nor NU had made any prepara-
tions for the coming election. It is quite possible that their
treasuries were nearly empty.97 Moreover, it is likely that
the PNI1s view was influenced by the outcome of the cabinet
reshuffle and by the emergence of Partindo, which not only de-
pressed the party but threatened further to divide PNI support.
Consequently neither the PNI nor NU made a real effort to de-
fend holding the next elections, and within government councils
it is likely that leaders of both parties agreed with arguments
against holding them.
There were many such arguments and quite a few of them
seemed strong. On May 27th, Djuanda had requested the cabinet's
ad hoc committee, led by Leimena, to review the election law of
1953, ostensibly in order to bring it into line with the new
regional government structure created by Law 1/1957.98 But by
this time certain members of the cabinet were already beginning
to wonder whether it would not be best to postpone the elec-
tions, and in the following months army leaders suggested many
95
Lembaga, Aug. 5, 1958. The North Sumatran PNI was on
the verge of joining Masjumi's stand against holding the elec-
tions when the government finally postponed them. Tjerdas,
Sept. 22, 1958. See also Lembaga, July 21· Mestika, Aug. 13,
Sept. 16, 1958.
96
See S. Djaka, "Laksanakan Pemilihan Umum Parlemen
ke-II" (Carry out the Second Parliamentary Elections) in Pesat,
XIV, No. 28 (July 12, 1958), 12. Also Duta Masjarakat,
Sept. 4, 1958.
97
The NU newspaper, Duta Masjarakat, like Masjumi's
Abadl, did not publish for a few months, from the end of May
until August 17. The reason, presumably, was lack of funds.
98
Pedoman, May 29, 1958. Information Minister Sudibjo
said at the time that the Government still intended to hold
the elections.169
99
good reasons for doing so. For one thing, they argued,
security conditions were bad and the shock of the rebellion
had not yet worn off. Second, the conflict of election cam-
paigning would only make the security situation worse. Third,
in some areas of Sumatra and Sulawesi, elections could not be
held at all because of the rebellion. Another argument that
may have been advanced was that funds were in dangerously
short supply, and the elections would be extremely expensive.
Besides these considerations--and the very important
factor of a possible Communist victory—the issue of elections
per se raised basic questions about the political system and
the ultimate role of the political parties. In July, August,
and September, the National Council was deep in discussion of
Guided Democracy, and Djakarta was ablaze with rumors about
abolition of political parties, creation of a single party,
and simplification of the party system. To hold elections, at
least under the old system, would simply restore the old style
Parliament, then under attack. Therefore the whole question
of elections was anomalous.
This appears to have been felt by the public. In
view of the apparent weakness of Parliament and the tentative-
ness of the existing political system, elections did not seem
urgent, and several newspapers--mostly anti-Communist—encour-
aged the view that they were unnecessary. As one Surabaja
daily put it, the money needed for elections might be better
used for national development.100 Thus, except for the PKI
and a few allied groups, such as Baperki, no one brought sig-
nificant pressure to bear on the Government to hold the elec-
tions.
On September 22, Djuanda informed Parliament that be-
cause of poor security conditions, inadequate communications,
and the fear that a free and secret vote could not be guaran-
teed, the Government had decided to postpone the elections for
at most one year. In the meantime, to prevent a legislative
vacuum, it was felt that the present Parliament should continue
until a new one was elected.l&l Support for and justification
of the postponement came from Masjumi, the PNI, NU, the PSI,
99
On July 16 there was a meeting between Soekarno,
Djuanda, Hardi, Idham, Leimena, Subandrio, and the Chiefs-of-
Staff, in which, according to Djuanda, discussions were held
concerning the military, economic, and financial situations,
the problem of political parties, the Konstituante, and the
second parliamentary elections (Republik, July 17, 1958).
~*~^^Harian Umum, July 28, 1958.
lO^Pos Indonesia, Sept. 22; Merdeka, Sept. 23, 1958.170
102
and several other minor parties.	Only the PKI seriously
objected/ pointing out the constitutional violation; in a few
regions PKI leaders were so frustrated that they insisted, in
vain, that the elections must go on anyway,
The inevitable consequence of postponing the elections
was to weaken Parliament further. Already under attack for
its lack of moral authority and the decline of its influence
in national problems. Parliament's very legality now came to
be questioned. Some argued that without elections—the essen-
tial basis of representative government—the entire status of
Parliament must become constitutionally suspect.104 Postponing
the elections similarly affected the position of the political
parties, whose legitimacy necessarily depended to a great ex-
tent upon a popular mandate. Without elections, the parties
were not extraordinary, for the main source of their justifica-
tion and significance disappeared. Increasingly, they had to
fall back on another, and narrower, source of legitimacy—the
mere fact that they constituted organizations of the elite
whose authority in a traditionally inclined society was re-
spected simply because they existed as an adjunct of the
government. The parties' defense of parliamentarianism was
fought from a vulnerable corner; at the same time, the post-
ponement of the elections gave the opponents of the parliamen-
tary system more time to work for its replacement.
The willingness of the PNI and NU, as well as Masjumi,
the PSI, and most smaller parties to put off the elections was
consistent with the process of political disintegration and re-
creation that had begun in early 1957. After the proclamation
of martial law and the formation of the Kabinet Karya and the
National Council, there were two overlapping political systems
in forces one represented by the parties and Parliament, the
other by Soekarno and the army. To put it another way, one
system was based on the Constitution of 1950, the other on
martial law—and the latter was in the ascendancy. Gradually
but irrevocably the exponents of the weaker system were drawn
towards the stronger.
102
Nusantara, Sept. 23; Suluh Indonesia, Sept. 24;
Duta Masjarakat, Sept. 22; Merdeka, Sept. 23, an especially
interesting and informative editorial; Suara Rakjat, Sept. 25;
Harian Umum, Sept. 25, 1958. For a representative PNI view,
see also Pesat, XIV, no. 39 (Sept. 27, 1958), 3-5, which de-
fended the PNI against accusations by Pemuda—now called a
trumpet of Partindo—that it feared elections and felt safer
with the pontponement. See also Pemuda, Sept. 23, 1958.
103
Pos Indonesia, Sept. 23, 1958.
104
See the discussion by Soedarisman Purwokusumo re-
ported in Nusantara, Nov. 6, 1958.171
Quite apart from their loss of initiative in 1957#
most of the parties—excepting only the PKI—were already
seriously degenerated, unreformed, out of touch with the elec-
torate, and unsure of their abilities to deal effectively with
the nation's problems. Party reform, were it possible, would
have threatened the pre-war generation leaders who were still
in control of most parties, particularly the PNI and NU. More-
over, elections, had they been held, would in any case have
greatly reduced the parliamentary power of these parties in
favor of the PKI. Consequently there was a tendency for lead-
ers of the PNI and NU to accept the new power structure, and
to work within it to secure whatever advantages they could.
In the cabinet reshuffle neither of these parties demanded a
restoration of party control of the government; rather they
fought to maintain or improve their positions within the
Kabinet Karya, to which they continued thereafter to pledge
their support, as for the elections, there was no powerful
urge to defend them. For more obvious reasons, Masjumi, the
PSI, and similarly inclined parties had little to gain from
the parliamentary system as it then stood.
By far the strongest and most vital party, the PKI
lost most from the postponement of the elections, for with de-
ferral the bed began to wash away from underneath the parlia-
mentary road.The power of the PKI was one of the basic
reasons for delaying a vote—the other being that the anti-
party forces could not permit the party system generally to
renew its legitimacy—and the same reason obtained when elec-
tions were put off again and again in the following years.
This suggests another facet of the analysis above? that is,
the PKI threatened not only the other parties, but the entire
social and political order. It was not simply that everyone
feared that the Communists, once in power, would overthrow the
existing political organization, eliminate the old elite, and
invoke their own exclusive ideology. That clearly was the crux
of the matter, but it cannot be too strongly emphasized that
the social force mobilized by the PKI could not be matched by
any of the other parties, by the army, or even (in organiza-
tional terms) by President Soekarno. Thus, it was necessary—
taking the broadest view of social conflict—to limit the PKI's
opportunities to use its power fully. By containing the truly
radical PKI, the elite whom it challenged, both party and non-
party, was able to maintain its hopes for the future. It is
important to point out that this elite did in fact remain in
power under Guided Democracy and that it did so by shifting
away from a broader electoral basis of politics towards a
narrower and more traditional elite basis.
$See Ruth T. McVey, "Indonesian Communism and the
Transition to Guided Democracy," in A. Doak Barnett, Communist
Strategies in Asia (New York, Londons Praeger, 1963), pp.
162-167.172
In the meantime, while the PNI and NU adjusted them-
selves to the new developing political system, Masjumi and its
allies turned to the army for help against the PKI, which in
turn was then forced to seek protection from Soekarno. It is
clear that after the rebellion no one was looking essentially
to the parliamentary system for political sustenance. The
parties defended it tenaciously from 1958 to 1960, but it had
become, in terms of political power, a shell.173
CHAPTER V
THE DRIVE TO GUIDED DEMOCRACY (I)
During 1957 and early 1958 the hopes of party leaders
for an eventual return to political normality were encouraged
by the absence of concrete alternatives to the parliamentary
system. Soekarno had been consistently radical in word but
vague in deed, proposing little that made a lasting impression
on politicans long inured to ideological pronouncements and
impossibly broad statements of ideals. But the respite enjoyed
by the parties was the gift of the PRRI; Soekarno and army
leaders had tacitly declared a truce in their conflict with the
parties pending an outcome of the rebellion. In early June,
when the double threat of rebellion and foreign intervention
had begun to recede, Soekarno for the first time focussed the
attention of the National Council on Guided Democracy. After
an interruption while he tended to the cabinet reshuffle, the
discussions were resumed in late July, and from then until
July 1959 Guided Democracy was the main concern of nearly
everyone.
Conditions were ripe in mid-1958 for further considera-
tion of the political system, or rather conditions made it im-
possible to avoid the matter. The rebellion had been a great
shock to the nation, loosening many of the remaining underpin-
nings of the old constitutional order and accelerating the
search for new pillars of society. A few very calm thinkers,
like Moh. Said, a Djakarta leader of the nationalist educational
foundation, Taman Siswa, could infuse only a little moderation
into the national discussion, which ranged far beyond politics
to education, public morality, and the social order. Within
the politically conscious elite, the serious doubts which had
arisen after the 1955 elections about the validity of the
political system were exacerbated, and the proclivity for social
introspection which particularly characterizes the Javanese
became more pronounced, making the atmosphere of general malaise
plain. The debate begun in 1956, never having stopped, grew in
intensity as men tried to analyze all the failings of post-
revolutionary society and the disintegration of revolutionary
ideals. Some flatly condemned the entire older generation, as
having failed miserably and dragged down democracy in its
failure.1 Others turned to total solutions: at a symposium
in Jogjakarta in September 1958, for example, Prof. Sigit of
the pedagogical faculty argued that only a restoration of the
^See the statement by Soebadio Sastrosatomo, a PSI
leader, before a meeting of the Socialist Youth Movement, Pos
Indonesia, Dec. 2, 1958.174
Soekarno-Hatta duumvirate could assure Indonesia of unity and
integrity, and he proposed, with considerable support, that
the two men be appointed President and Vice-President for life
and given rather full powers.2 Indeed, there was an identifi-
able consensus that for at least a number of years Indonesia
needed a determined and authoritarian government, perhaps a
strong man, capable of molding the nation into a politically
disciplined and economically viable entity.
In this turmoil of sensitive probing into national po-
litical and social ills, Guided Democracy had an immense ap-
peal. 2 it offered solutions, however vague, that were not to
be found elsewhere, and they were solutions that struck numerous
sympathetic chords, especially in Java. Moreover, the profound
popular trust in Soekarno's leadership was matched by an
equally profound deprecation of the political parties, which
were too demoralized, disunited, and disoriented to put up an
effective defense of the parliamentary system. Party leaders
feebly parried all challenges to their formal hegemony with
hollow praises of democracy, the Constitutional Assembly, and
Parliament, or the defensive promise that although the parties
had done wrong in the past they would do better in the future.
Nevertheless, Guided Democracy did not have an easy
time in the making. Despite the general agreement in principle
that a more authoritarian political system was needed, there
was in practice considerable ambivalence about the matter.
The parties were unwilling to make any sacrifice that might
endanger their claims on the right to govern. Moreover, there
was some concern, especially among the intellectual public,
over what a more authoritarian system might lead to. Frequently
the fear was expressed that Guided Democracy might become
either a personal or a military dictatorship. Especially for
those who distrusted Soekarno and saw danger in his willingness
2
Pos Indonesia, Sept. 29, Oct. 2, 1958. The symposium,
sponsored by the Institute for Press and Public Opinion, found
wide agreement that Indonesia suffered from a profound moral
confusion, as evidenced by the growing number of political and
social aliran—literally "currents" of alignment. This was
largely the result, said several participants, of the great
influence of foreign ideologies, "as if Indonesia were simply
parroting" everything that went on abroad. Among such senti-
ments, it is easy to see, Soekarno's stress on national identity
found welcoming responses.
3
By mid-1958 the "guided" idea had sprouted various
shoots. "Guided study" described efforts to tighten up lax
rules for university students. "Guided economy" represented
the demand for a more thoroughgoing state socialism.175
4
to deal with the PKI, Guided Democracy had ominous overtones.
Clearly the constitutional issues of Guided Democracy were
thoroughly mixed up with the political issues and alignments
that preceded the idea, vastly complicating the further devel-
opment of the new system.
Basically, this further development must be understood
as a mopping up operation against the parties, in which Soe-
karno and the army leadership fortified the positions they had
captured in 1957 and consolidated as a result of the rebellion.
But this was an exceedingly difficult process. First of all,
the National Council, starting with the ideas enunciated by
Soekarno in 1957 and 1958, had to develop the new system from
the ground up, seeking constitutional bases as it went. The
supporters of Soekarno were themselves uncertain of what would
finally come out of the process.5 And as for Soekarno, the
utmost care was required on his part to guard against the
possibility of his partner in the alliance of Guided Democracy,
the army, running rampant.
Nothing could have been done to alter the political
system without the support of the army, which simultaneously
was the prime mover behind Guided Democracy and the main threat
which both the parties and Soekarno had to face. For the par-
ties, the choice in 1958 seemed to be less one between Guided
Democracy and parliamentary democracy as one between Guided
Democracy and military rule, and the latter appeared to be the
less desirable. For Soekarno, who was as much a follower as
a leader in his alliance with the army, the problem was to find
4
Consistently the most vociferous opposition to Guided
Democracy on the grounds that it was anti-democratic and favor-
able to the Communists came from East Java, where the local
press was far less hampered than in other regions by the local
commandant, Col. Sarbini. Hostility to Guided Democracy became
so outspoken in East Java during the second half of 1958 that
Soekarno was said to have postponed a trip to Surabaja at the
beginning of 1959 as a result. See Suara Rakjat, Feb. 7, 1959.
He finally did go, however, for the celebration of Mohammad's
ascension day in early February. While there he spoke of the
need for a national will and spirit to rise politically, eco-
nomically, and culturally. The empire of Madjapahit (based in
East Java), he said, collapsed in the 15th century because it
had no such will. One wonders whether he intended this as a
subtle dig at his antagonists. See Java Post, Feb. 9, 1959.
5
Foreign Minister Subandrio told Parliament in October
that Guided Democracy would- comprise the Parliament plus the
parties plus X—i.e., presumably, the functional groups. The
PKI quickly responded that the X in the equation was the
National Council and a gotong-rojong cabinet with the PKI in
it. Harian Rakjat, Oct. 14, 1958.176
an institutional solution that would incapacitate the parties
without leaving himself and the nation at the mercy of the army
This was the essence of the politics of Guided Democracy in
1958, and the intricate nature of the aims and fears on all
sides helps to explain why it took so long, nearly a year, for
Guided Democracy to materialize into anything resembling a
systematic alternative to parliamentary government. Even then,
the solution was a compromise.
This chapter is concerned with the evolution of Guided
Democracy in the second half of 1958, leaving the grand com-
promise for the next chapter. The discussion that follows
covers the position of Djuanda, the momentum of the army, the
deliberations of the National Council, and the response of the
political parties to the threat of Guided Democracy.
D juanda
A special comment about Djuanda is needed because his
role and views would otherwise be obscured by the confusion of
political events in 1958. Acting as buffer and moderator be-
tween the contending party and anti-party forces, he emerges
as a figure of considerable stature, not only for the trust
that nearly everyone had in him, but also for the independent
course he tried, quite without success, to follow.θ
Djuanda was in the difficult position of heading a
cabinet, partly representing the parties, which would be re-
sponsible for dealing with any anti-party proposals made by
the National Council. Never having committed himself unequiv-
ocally to Guided Democracy, Djuanda was not in sympathy with
the initiative taken by the National Council against the par-
ties, and he greatly feared any hint of radicalism. In mid-
July 1958, before the National Council met again, the combina-
tion of a coup scare, set off by reports of Kassim's coup in
Iraq, and the prospect of further discussions on Guided Democ-
racy led by Soekarno provoked wild rumors that the parties
would be abolished or drastically reformed.
This quiet man, almost the ideal type of Feith's "ad-
ministrator, " was not bound to the parties, to Soekarno, or
to the army, but depended on all three. He and Nasution got
along very well and on many policy matters stood quite close
together. Djuanda was not loathe to refer to the army for
help in getting a program off the ground against the will of
the parties. Soekarno respected the Prime Minister, who in
turn realized that it was due to Soekarno's figure that the
cabinet's authority was respected. The parties worked with
Djuanda because they did not fear him, and he treated them with
the respect necessary to maintain parliamentary support for the
economic measures he wished to promote.177
Djuanda attended the National Council session on July
22nd to warn against extremism.7 There were two alternatives,
he said, one of which was revolutionary—i.e., the abolition
of all parties and Parliament. The inherent danger of this
was that one group would be imposing its views by force on all
other groups, the kind of situation in which dictatorships
arose. In the circumstances, a dictatorship would have to be
based on the power of the army, and Djuanda declared that an
army-backed dictatorship would meet with the strongest opposi-
tion throughout the country. The second alternative, which
Djuanda espoused, was to accept the existing situation as a
starting point and improve it within limits defined by law.
Warning against optimistic expectations with respect to any of
the nation's political institutions, he implied that the lack
of agreement on basic issues of interest—which plagued not
only Parliament and the Constituent Assembly, but also the
National Council itself—was simply a fact of Indonesian polit-
ical life which would not change whatever the system. Djuanda
went further to ask, given these differences of view between
various groups, who could say what was right or wrong. Without
glossing over the deficiencies of the Constituent Assembly and
Parliament, he noted that those two bodies were elected by the
people, institutional inadequacies to the contrary notwith-
standing. On the other hand, the National Council, which was
now discussing profound constitutional changes, was chosen
only by the cabinet and the President; was it not possible,
asked Djuanda, that these latter were more liable to error
than the elected bodies?8 He argued that most national diffi-
culties could be solved through compromise and friendly give
and take. If the Konstituante remained deadlocked, then a
referendum might settle the ideological question once and for
all. As for the need to reform political institutions, improve-
ments would best be pursued through Parliament itself. This
7
Djuanda* 1s remarks to the Council were not made public,
but his views were generally known among Djakarta politicians.
I have seen a typescript copy of his statement.
g
This question was of course as unanswerable as it was
fundamental, for it went to the heart of the crisis of political
legitimacy, confronting philosophically a conflict that basi-
cally involved power. But it was a question that many asked.
See, for example, Harian Umum, July 25, 1958, which argued
that the Konstituante was the proper place to discuss Guided
Democracy, not the National Council.
Djuanda's is one of the best statements I have seen
representing the conservative view of the state, as compared
with Soekarno's approach to nation-building. To the one, law
and order were essential to progress; for the other, law at
least was an obstruction which could not be permitted so to
bind the state's leadership that the nation could not be pushed
over the hump to greatness.178
could be achieved, he believed, rather optimistically, by
gradually convincing the parties of the need for change.
Djuanda himself set out on this course, moving with
deliberate speed to spur the Constituent Assembly to action.
Under fierce attack for its general malfunctioning, the Assembly
encouraged few to believe that it would ever get over the ideo-
logical impasse and finish its work.9 On July 31st, a week
after he had spoken in the National Council, Djuanda appealed
to the Assembly to streamline its procedures, to settle the
ideological question soon, and to set a deadline for completing
its task in order to avoid "serious problems."10 He also ad-
monished the members not to ignore the issues raised by Guided
Democracy with respect to political parties and the electoral
system. Two weeks later, Soekarno made the same point more
pointedly in his Independence Day speech, when he accused the
Konstituante of working nonsensically and urged it to pay heed
to the revolutionary needs of the people.H The PKI added to
the pressure on the Assembly by threatening to submit a resolu-
tion that the body dissolve itself unless its procedures were
drastically amended.12
Djuanda had promised more effective cooperation from
the Government to help the Constituent Assembly. In late
August, meetings were begun by cabinet representatives and
Assembly leaders, and a special state commission on constitu-
tional matters was appointed by Djuanda to advise both the
9
See Pesat, XIV, no. 4 (Jan. 25, 1958), 16, criticizing
the Konstituante for its failure to convene a quorum at the
opening of the first biannual plenum of 1958; see also Harian
Rakjat, July 30, 1958.
IQpesat, XIV, no. 32 (Aug. 9, 1958), 3-5. Djuanda1s
speech can be found in English translation in the Ministry of
Information's Special Release No. 39, 1958.
^See the collection of Soekarno's August 17th speeches,
from 1945 through 1961, Dari Proklamasi sampai Resopim (Minis-
try of Information), p. 372.
12
Many took the threat seriously, reacting to it favor-
ably or leaping to the defense of the Konstituante with renewed
attacks on the Communists. Islamic groups were particularly
upset. But, though the effort almost backfired, the PKI was
trying to goad the other parties into action. See Pos Indonesia,
Aug. 22, 25, 26; Pemuda, Aug. 25? Trompet Masjarakat, Sept. 3,
1958. In the latter (a left-wing Surabaja daily), an article
signed G. H. G. pointed out that the PKI threat was actually
no more than a warning to the Konstituante to improve its
methods.179
13
cabinet and the Assembly. A few procedural improvements were
actually accepted by the Konstituante: for example, a simple
majority replaced the two-thirds rule on procedural though not
on substantive questions. Many party followers were encouraged
by Assembly Chairman Wilopo's statement that, with some pro-
cedural changes, a new constitution could be finished by March
1960. The outlook for an ideological compromise remained
discouraging, however. In late August, Mr. Sartono, the highly
respected Speaker of Parliament and a leading PNI member, told
a mixed civilian and military audience in Magelang that if he
were in the army, he would not obey any decision of the Kon-
stituante that eliminated the Pantjasila from the constitution.^
The Islamic parties were incensed by this and the likelihood
of a compromise receded further.
At the same time, Djuanda firmly defended the integrity
of the cabinet and pursued his own policies, despite occasion-
ally serious disagreements with Soekarno. The resulting ten-
sions were exacerbated by the efforts of both the PKI and the
PNI to emphasize their support of Soekarno in nearly all policy
matters. One illustration of this was the debate over the
National Planning Council bill, the first point of the cabinet's
new program, for which Djuanda had requested parliamentary
priority.15 Basic as the idea of planning was to Guided
13
Pos Indonesia, Aug. 23, 28, 30, and Sept. 9, 1958.
The state committee consisted of several legal and constitu-
tional experts, including Prof. Supomo, who died a short time
later, Prof. Djokosoetono, A. G. Pringgodigdo, Moh. Nasroen,
and Sudarman Gandasoebrata. Apparently the committee was unable
to make a substantial contribution to the Konstituante1s work.
14
Sartono also proposed—and this may have been a key
element in his thinking at the time--that the Konstituante
adopt the existing provisional constitution without further
ado. Had they been able to put their ideological differences
aside for a while, this would have been the most astute polit-
ical move the parties could have made. For they would then
have been armed at least with a permanent constitution that em-
bodied the parliamentary system. The provisional character of
the 1950 constitution left a legitimate opening for the anti-
party forces, who were themselves reluctant (but perhaps not
in the last resort unwilling) to use unquestionably unconsti-
tutional measures. See Pos Indonesia, Aug. 25; Pedoman,
Aug. 27, 1958; Pesat, XIV, no. 37 (Sept. 13, 1958), 3-4.
15
The National Planning Council bill was drafted by
the cabinet and the National Council shortly after the cabinet
reshuffle. The Planning Council was to consist of functional
group representatives, experts in various fields, and other
civil and military officials. In the parliamentary debates,
the Government was asked to define what the functional groups180
Democracy/ Soekarno felt that the Planning Council should stand
above the cabinet and beyond its authority. Djuanda would not
countenance this, both because it would make coordination diffi-
cult and because the cabinet must ultimately assume responsi-
bility for executing a development plan. In Parliament he in-
sisted that the new body should be subordinate to the cabinet,
not above or even on the same level with it.16 Meanwhile the
PKI and the PNI raced one another to propose that Soekarno
should become chairman of the National Planning Council.
Djuanda replied that this would be improper because of Soekarno's
position as a constitutional and non-responsible president.17
The bill was passed in late September without significant amend-
ment.
Another issue that caused Djuanda discomfort was the
foreign investment bill, which Parliament debated in August and
September. Although foreign investment had always been a sen-
sitive matter in post-revolutionary Indonesia, Djuanda was
were and how they would be constituted, but no one was clear
on this as yet; see Risalah Perundingan D. P. R. 1958 (Minutes
of Parliamentary Debates), session of Sept. 16, pp. 3338 ff.
For the text of the law on the National Planning Council (80/
1958), later amendments, and other materials relating to the
functions of the body, see "Peraturan Depernas" (National Plan-
ning Council Regulations) compiled for the Planning Council by
Moh. Yamin. The law and its clarification are interesting for
their illustration of the views current on the need for and
role of planning.
1G
Risalah Perundingan 1958, session of Sept. 19, p.
3463; see also Nusantara, Sept. 20, 1958. The Chairman of the
Planning Council would have protocol rank as Minister, but
would not sit in the cabinet.
17
Risalah Perundingan 1958, session of Sept. 19, p.
3464. Djuanda said that the President would be able to present
major addresses to the Planning Council. Unlike most others,
Djuanda continued to lay stress on the point that the Presi-
dent's position remained constitutionally limited. Soekarno
himself occasionally issued a reminder to the same effect,
partly in order to ward off the various pressures brought to
bear upon him.
Who would become chairman of the National Planning
Council was being considered—and rumored about—at this time.
Those proposed at first included Hatta, who had already rejected
the possibility in 1957, and the Sultan of Jogjakarta. Later
in the year Yamin's name came up, though the suggestion was
vehemently attacked in Parliament, especially by Soetomo (Bung
Tomo) of the PRI. Yamin was Soekarno's choice, however, and
in mid-1959, when the Planning Council was officially appointed,
he became its chairman.181
determined to encourage it, albeit with proper controls. Soe-
karno distrusted and opposed this policy, fearing that it would
open the way for European capital to reassert its grasp on the
Indonesian economy. He favored government-to-government loans
or grants, not investment, and in this he was joined by the
radical nationalist left. In Parliament, Soekarno's views
were quoted in extensio by the PKI and allied groups.18 Djuanda
replied firmly that he would not allow the cabinet to be con-
fronted by the President or anyone else on this bill· for it
was the cabinet, he said, which was responsible to Parliament.
The bill was passed—though it never had any real effect--with
support from the PNI, NU, and Masjumi.19 Djuanda1s attitude
won the praise of those who had once feared that he would be a
sycophant to the President.20
Other parts of Djuanda's economic program were passed
by Parliament without great difficulty, though the Government
did face considerable opposition on the 1959 budget. The Five
Year Plan, which had been drafted before the second Ali Cabinet
took office but had not yet been debated in Parliament, was
finally accepted in November.21 But many of the cabinet's
18
See especially the statement by R. W. Probosuprodjo,
Risalah Perundingan 1958, session of Aug. 26, pp. 2743-44.
Soekarno had made his antipathy to foreign investment clear in
several speeches during the year, one of them to the Engineers'
Association Congress on July 24. On the foreign investment
bill, see A. Laksmi, "Politik Penanaman Modal Asing" (Foreign
Investment Policy), in Mimbar Indonesia, XII, no. 36 (Sept. 6,
1958), 5, 20-21.
19
A few PNI leaders were tempted to come out against
the bill, but for the party to have done so would have put the
cabinet, which it supported, in an awkward position. The sup-
port of NU, Masjumi, and the PNI for the bill can be understood
partly in terns of the fact that foreign aid and private for-
eign business operations were important sources of party funds.
Some party leaders justified this (privately) by arguing that
a way had to be found to counter the PKI's alleged foreign
sources of income. Nay votes on the foreign investment bill
were cast by the PKI and the PSI, partly on the same grounds
that foreign investment encouraged corruption. See Pedoman,
Sept. 17, 1958.
20
See Suara Rakjat, Sept. 4, 1958.
21
On the Five Year Plan, see Douglas Paauw, Financing
Economic Development (Glencoe; Free Press, 1960), and Benjamin
Higgins, Indonesia's Economic Stabilization and Development
(New York: Institute of Pacific Relations, 1957). The plan,
which was supposed to run from 1956 through 1960, could not,
obviously, be put into full effect· Djuanda said it would be182
economic goals were long range. Over the immediate conditions
of inflation, food shortages, and inadequate foreign exchange,
the Government had little control, and whatever remedies were
tried met with obstruction. In October an attempt to raise
the official price of rice met with so much opposition, includ-
ing a parliamentary resolution and the refusal of the army com-
mand in East Java to implement the price increase, that it
finally had to be rescinded.22	the same time a Government
purchase of rice from the Soviet Union came under prolonged
attack by anti-Communist parties.23
It was under these conditions that Djuanda had to deal
also with the National Council on the issues of Guided Democ-
racy.
The Army Initiative
The influence of the rebellion on the role of the army
has already been discussed in the last chapter. Inevitably
the already extensive authority exercised by the officer corps
under martial law was greatly expanded. Security became the
chief concern of the government, a rock-hard fact against which
the political parties continually bumped in their attacks on
martial law and in their efforts to alter the budget. The
demands of the General Staff for more funds had to be met, and
executed as far as possible in 1959 and 1960, while the National
Planning Council was drawing up a new plan, but he admitted
frankly that the primary importance of the plan was to prove
to the world that the government was seriously concerned to
undertake long term development, thus encouraging foreign trust
and facilitating foreign loans and other aid. The Five Year
Plan, he said, was considered a realistic one and not overly
ambitious. Internally, according to Djuanda, the plan would
have the effect of compelling the government to carry out de-
velopment. See Pos Indonesia, Nov. 12, 1958. On the latter
score he was wrong. The course of events after 1958 buried
the Five Year Plan. Its place was taken by the grandiose, un-
systematic, and unattainable Eight Year Plan announced by the
National Planning Council in 1960.
2^see Nusantara, Nov. 6, 1958.
23
Abadi, Oct. 28? Harian Rakjat, Nov. 5? Suluh Indone-
sia, Nov. 6, 1958. Masjumi, the PNI, and other non-Communist
parties attacked the purchase partly on the grounds that the
price of Soviet rice was higher than any other which Indonesia
had bought. The purchase price was later lowered by Moscow.183
more than ever before the military became its own master.
But the additional significance of the rebellion, as has been
mentioned, was that it erupted at a time when the army had al-
ready succeeded partially in establishing its political rights
under martial law and when parliamentary institutions were
clearly in decline. With the eclipse of the rebellion in mid-
1958, army leaders set out to achieve two basic political aims:
1) to reduce the role of the parties to a minimum, to create a
more authoritarian and stable government—often conceived in
terms carried over from military experience25--and to deal with
the evils that had led to the rebellion; 2) to work out a
permanent political role for the army independent of the tem-
porary martial law, a role that would satisfy both the mission
and the ambitions of the politically conscious army elite, and
allow it to enjoy the fruits of the revolution and to partici-
pate responsibly in the political life of the nation on some
basis short of a military regime.26
24	,	.
In his Armed Forces Day (Oct. 5) message in 1958,
Nasution noted that for the first time since 1945 the govern-
ment was paying attention to the development of the army with
respect to personnel and equipment. See Pesat, XV, no. 41
(Oct. 11, 1958), 5-6.
2 5
Nasution and other officers frequently spoke of or-
ganizing the government on military lines in one sense or ano-
ther, and their conceptions of structure, hierarchy, and func-
tion were understandably drawn from patterns which they knew
and in which, as they compared them with the civilian govern-
ment, they had considerable pride and confidence.
Mention might be made here of the lingering influence
of the Japanese occupation on officers whose first military ex-
perience was in the para-military organizations established by
the Japanese army from 1943 through 1945. Many officers were
deeply impressed by the rigorous discipline and martial deter-
mination of the Japanese soldier, and, though the occupation
was recalled with distaste and antipathy, the impressions showed
through. For example, in connection with a national physical
education program in which the army would participate, Nasution
wrote some comments to the Minister of Education, remarking,
inter alia, on the need to make the people defense-minded and
militant:	"When the revolution broke out in 1945 young people
were ready and ripe to perform their defense tasks as a conse-
quence of the Japanese system of education which earlier had
prepared them for this both in the schools and in the community
at large. Apart from the 'ism' which was implanted at that
time, such a system should be established again and its bene-
fits should always be realized." Risalah Perundingan 1958,
appendix of Djuanda's statement before Parliament on the exten-
sion of martial law, session of Dec. 8, pp. 5183-5184.
2 6
See Daniel S. Lev, "The Political Role of the Army in
Indonesia," Pacific Affairs, XXXVI, no. 4 (Winter 1963-64), for
a discussion of the army's search for a formula justifying its
political participation independent of martial law.184
By mid-1958 the mood and intentions of the army were a
chief topic of political discussion. Officers were outspoken
in their disdain for the parties and their confidence in the
army.27 In mid-July Kassim's coup in Iraq abruptly called at-
tention to the same possibility in Indonesia. The press pointed
out that nothing had improved in the last year and a half? eco-
nomically the country was in a worse condition, the reshuffled
cabinet had not yet produced any economic plans or gained con-
trol of the situation, and the parties were still dipping into
government coffers and hungrily bargaining for diplomatic posts
as if the rebellion had never happened.28 There were warnings
that the army would not put up with this much longer· it was
at this time that the party system began to come under renewed
and sustained condemnation in the press.
27
In April, before the effort to reshuffle the cabinet
had got fully underway, Brig. Gen. Djatikusumo, a dashing offi-
cer with the confidence of noble birth and a proclivity for
speaking out, said that the nation needed "a non-party govern-
ment backed by the army with elections suspended for six years."
And "there should be an army man in the government. There are
too many small men and not enough big men. The army is the
source of good leaders." Indonesian Observer, April 24, 1958.
A few days later Nasution ordered his officers to control them-
selves in giving political interviews to the press. But it was
difficult to restrain many in the officer corps, for the rebel-
lion trained a spotlight on the army, into which its leaders
stepped with considerable confidence and a heightened sense of
importance.
28
Merdeka, July 16, 1958. Merdeka proposed that Soekarno
meet with the Prime Minister, the three vice-premiers, and the
chiefs-of-staff to outline a firm policy to restrict the polit-
ical parties. They did meet at the time, along with Foreign
Minister Subandrio, apparently to discuss the Middle-Eastern
crisis. Nusantara, July 24, 1958, noted that the Iraqi crisis
and de Gaulle's re-emergence in France indicated that other
countries were experiencing difficulties like Indonesia's and
were beginning to settle them.
The Iraqi coup was accompanied by the dispatch of Ameri-
can troops to Lebanon. At the same time there were reports
that some ships of the Seventh Fleet were in Singapore waters.
The foreign intervention issue being still very much alive, the
United States came in for angry condemnation in paint on many
walls for its action in Lebanon. The issue of early recognition
of the new leftist regime in Iraq, against which the right-wing
press campaigned unsuccessfully, was so hotly debated that at
length Nasution forbade further discussion in the press of the
Middle-Eastern crisis, partly no doubt also to put a damper on
the speculation about a coup in Indonesia. See A. Laksmi,
"Krisis Timur Tengah dan Faktor dalam Negeri Kita" (The Middle-
Eastern Crisis and Our Internal Factors), in Mimbar Indonesia,
XII, no. 30 (July 26, 1958), 3-5.185
In early August, at about the same time that he was
submitting to the National Council a new proposal on Guided
Democracy, Nasution convened in Djakarta the first conference
of army commanders to be held since April 1957, ostensibly to
discuss operations against the PRRI.29 This was the first of
a series of such meetings in 1958 and 1959 that were concerned
quite as much with politics as with technical military prob-
lems. Serving as informal political forums and sounding boards,
they were the inexperienced equivalent of political party
council meetings. They also served to bring pressure to bear
on the government at strategic moments. The resolution adopted
by the August 1958 conference, addressed clearly to all national
leaders, expressed the temper of the officer corps?
1.	In suppressing the rebellion, the Armed Forces of the
Republic of Indonesia base the performance of their
task on the conviction that when it is done, there will
be no repetition of the political excesses of the past—
such as 'cow-trading,1 the politicization of economic
problems and the civil service, and so on. It is these
rotton excesses that are the basic cause of our troubles
2.	The TNI [army] is determined, after this rebellion, to
concentrate its power on putting law and discipline in
order, and on cleaning up the state's organization,
both civil and military.
3.	The government must guarantee that after the rebellion
is suppressed it will intensify efforts [to improve]
regional autonomy and national development, using as a
guide, inter alia, the results of the National Confer-
ence and the National Conference on Development [of
1957].
4.	The TNI hopes that an expression of gratitude will be
made to the soldiers who have fulfilled their duties
loyally and to their suffering families.3θ
Soon afterwards, the impatience of army headquarters
for reform became apparent, a long-standing complaint—not of
the army alone—against party government was the politicization
of the civil service.31 On August 9th, without consulting the
29
Pos Indonesia, Aug. 4, 1958. Djuanda and Suprajogi
attended, the former in his capacity as Minister of Defense.
30
Quoted in Thalib Ma'azis, "Reorganisasi," Mimbar In-
donesia, XII, no. 44 (Nov. 1, 1958), 6. See also Siasat, XII,
no. 588 (Sept. 17, 1958), 8. Soekarno gave the resolution
prominence in his August 17th speech.
31
See Mimbar Indonesia, XII, no. 33 (Aug. 17, 1958), 7;
Pesat, XIV, no. 33 (Aug. 16, 1958), 4, for comments on the de-
structive influence of the parties in the bureaucracy.186
cabinet beforehand/ Nasution issued a directive aimed at cor-
recting this problem. On the flimsy grounds that martial law
authority required the army to obtain information from civil
servants in the interests of public order, he instructed all
government personnel offices to compile reports on the political
affiliations of rank F officials (the highest rank in the bureau
cracy, covering every significant staff position in national
and regional government).32 The reports were to be sent direct-
ly to the army intelligence chief. Col. Soekendro, a politically
active officer who may have been one of the masterminds behind
the move.
Nasution's order received considerable support in the
press, but it shocked the parties and the cabinet, not to men-
tion the bureaucracy. Coming at a time when the party system
was everywhere under attack and men were becoming shy about
their party membership, the mere promulgation of the measure
had the effect of weakening party loyalties further.33 No one
pretended that it was anything but the first step in an even-
tual prohibition against civil servants joining political par-
ties. Only the PKI, with little strength in the bureaucracy,
did not face a loss of patronage, funds, and prestige. This,
indeed, was one illustration of the sometimes perplexing con-
tradictoriness of the army's political involvement· pursuing
the one objective of destroying the party system, army leaders
often succeeded in weakening only the ndn-Communist parties,
thus making their other—and increasingly important—objective
of destroying the PKI in particular more difficult to prosecute.
At this time, however, Nasution and other officers were con-
centrating on the party system generally. Aidit praised Nasu-
tion' s order but suggested that it should have been issued by
the cabinet· the threatening aggressiveness of the army out-
weighed any advantage that might accrue to the PKI from further
weakening the already flabby non-Communist parties.
Djuanda was also concerned, for apart from the tension
which the army measure created, it also bypassed the cabinet's
authority over the civil service, something that had never
been questioned even under martial law. Djuanda made his
32
Pos Indonesia, Aug. 9, 1958. There were about 5000
rank F civil servants out of an approximate total of 1,000,000,
as nearly as anyone could tell (Pos Indonesia, Oct. 2, 1958).
See also Roeslan Abdulgani, "Kepimpinan dalam dinas Pemerintahan
(Leadership in the Government Service), Mimbar Indonesia, XII,
no. 45 (Nov. 10, 1958), 9-11. Nasution's order also applied
to other organizations than parties, such as labor unions.
^siasat, XII, no. 591 (Oct. 8, 1958), 12, noted that,
in contrast to a decade earlier, men were no longer proud to
be members of political parties, for they now realized that it
was not necessary to belong to a party in order to contribute
to society.187
objections clear to Nasution, who agreed to draft a new order
and to submit it first to the cabinet for pro-forma approval.
The revision, promulgated over Nasution1s signature on Septem-
ber 13, provided that the reports on party affiliations should
be sent to Prime Minister cum Defense Minister Djuanda, whose
jurisdiction over the bureaucracy was thereby recognized.34
But army intelligence continued to be the driving force behind
the regulation, subsequent developments of which in mid-1959
were to fulfill the parties' every fear. 35
Other actions initiated by Nasution were equally up-
setting to the parties. The ultimate threat of the army was
that it might decide to abolish the parties outright; it was
this that made the waxing and waning rumors about drastic re-
form seem real. On September 5th, Nasution suddenly banned
Masjumi, the PSI, Parkindo, and IPKI in those regions where
they were accused of having supported the rebellion.36 The
order appeared on the same day that the Masjumi leader, Kasman
Singodimedjo, was arrested for a pro-PRRI speech delivered in
Magelang on August 31st, and it was commonly supposed that the
two events were connected.37 The banned parties immediately
34
Pos Indonesia, Sept. 6, 19; Nusantara, Sept. 20;
Merdeka, Sept. 19, 1958.
35
Civil servants were understandably reluctant to re-
port their party connections, and army intelligence resorted
to bluffs and threats to force them to do so. In the past, new
civil service regulations had been used to get rid of political
enemies; Nasution1s order was regarded somewhat in the same
light. See Pos Indonesia, Sept. 18, 1958.
3 6
Pos Indonesia, Sept. 5, 1958. The areas were Tapanuli,
West Sumatra, Riauw, North and Central Sulawesi, the Moluccas,
the Islands off the coast of Irian, and Nusatenggara. Members
of the banned parties were made to register with the local pro-
secution offices. See Nusantara, Oct. 17; Abadi, Oct. 29, 1958.
Immediately after the order was promulgated, PSI and Masjumi
delegations pleaded their cases with Djuanda, but to no avail.
Pos Indonesia, Sept. 17, 1958.
37
An earlier order, in mid-June, forbade all political
activity in disturbed areas. This caused something of a stir
among the political parties, but it was easy to argue that such
a measure might be necessary for the sake of military opera-
tions. See Nusantara, June 17; Pedoman, June 18, 1958. The
June order permitted "political activity" in support of the
government; Bintang Timur, July 8, 1958. After the September
order had been issued, the army information officer of North
Sumatra stated that political and ideological differences caused
conflict and therefore made military operations more difficult;
Waspada, Sept. 9, 1958. See also Waspada, Sept. 26, 1958, for
a list of 11 other organizations banned subsequent to the Sept.
13 order in Tapanuli (North Sumatra).188
protested their innocence# denying any organizational responsi-
bility for the PRRI. Other parties—including the PNI, NU, and
the PKI--publicly acclaimed Nasution's decision and condemned
Kasman, Masjumi, the PSI, and the PRRI with renewed vigor. Be-
neath the public reaction, however, was another feeling less
indignant and more distraught, in which all the parties, those
struck and those applauding, shared equally. For it was a long
jump, as the PSI-leaning Siasat pointed out, from a general
prohibition of political activities to a specific prohibition
of political parties.3® The anti-Soekarno press, particularly
in East Java, charged that the implementation of Guided Democ-
racy was being begun by means of military regulations, and
many party leaders shared this view.3^ Nasution himself took
advantage of the anxiety by saying that he was still consider-
ing what to do about the other parties. The ban on the parties
in rebel areas had some influence on the Government's decision
to postpone the elections, and this indeed may have been a
factor in Nasution's action.
In October, the army spectre grew to enormous propor-
tions as a result of the bumper crop of coups during late 1958
in Southeast Asia and the Middle-East. Following Kassim's
coup in July, in October the civilian regimes of Pakistan and
Burma fell to Generals Ayub Khan and Ne Win respectively. A
new coup also struck Thailand, replacing one military regime
with another. Soon afterwards rumors of a coup plot were heard
from the Philippines, and in November the Sudan was taken over
by the military. On each occasion a shock wave of anxiety
pulsed through Djakarta and every other major city, exciting
worried reactions from the parties, the Government, and the
independent press.Numerous comparisons were made between
the situations in those other states and in Indonesia, where
it was feared army leaders would be tempted by the initiative
of their foreign counterparts. The omnipresent fear of a coup
dovetailed with the raging discussion about Guided Democracy
to throw the whole political future into question. Time and
op
Siasat, XII, no. 587 (Sept. 10, 1958), 3. The maga-
zine blamed the banning on the "martial law-Guided Democracy
atmosphere." Pesat, XIV, no. 37 (Sept. 13, 1958), 3-4, observed
that members of the untouched major parties—PNI, NU, PKI—
were privately agreeing with what the right wing press was
saying openly, i.e., that the army was setting an extremely
unhappy precedent.
39
See Suara Rakjat, Sept. 9, 1958. Surabaja Post,
Sept. 9, 1958, hoped editorially that the measure would not be
extended to other parties.
4^see, for example, Pesat, XIV, no. 42 (Oct. 18, 1958),
3-5, and Star Weekly, XIII, no. 673 (Nov. 22, 1958), 1, 46-47.189
again it was pointed out in the press that everywhere in the
new states civilian regimes were under pressure by militaries
because of corruption, "cow-trading," economic decline, and
insensitivity to the needs of the people.41 were not all these
evils still evident in Indonesia, despite the warnings sounded
since 1956? In early November fuel was added to the fire by a
New Leader article, picked up by the Djakarta press, which pro-
pounded the simplistic thesis that in the underdeveloped states
of Asia dictators were necessary in order to save them from
Communism.42
With considerable trepidation the parties warned against
emulating foreign examples; the suspension of political parties
in Pakistan provoked worried assurances from party headquarters
that in Indonesia the situation the different.43 The PKI de-
clared that a coup would be a betrayal of the Indonesian na-
tional character and that the leaders of a coup would surely
be thrown out by the people, who in Indonesia, unlike Thailand
and Pakistan, knew the meaning of revolution.44 Throughout
the rain of coups, army leaders assured the Government that
they had no similar intent ions.45 After each new foreign re-
port Nasution publicly emphasized that he, Soekarno, and
Djuanda were solidly united and that efforts to divide them
41
See Indonesia Raja, Oct. 29; Java Post, Oct. 22,
1958.
42
The article was by John Scott. "Whose Dictators in
Asia," New Leader (Nov. 3, 1958), pp. 14-16.
43
See Duta Masjarakat, Oct. 10, and, following the Sudan
coup in mid-November, Suluh Indonesia, Nov. 19, 1958. The PNI
press pointed to Ayub Khan's decision to drop the Islamic
state in Pakistan as a meaningful lesson for Indonesian Islamic
parties. In general the party press did not contribute a
great deal to the depth of discussions about the army challenge.
44
Harian Rakjat, Oct. 22, 1958. The CCPKI had made
the same warning at its sixth plenum in March-April. Harian
Rakjat compared the Thai coup with the periodical upheavals
in South America as proof of the destruction of democracy in
this SEATO country.
45
Within a few days of the coups in Pakistan and Burma,
Subandrio and Nasution talked about developments in "neighbor-
ing countries." Djuanda was away on a trip to Yugoslavia and
elsewhere during much of October. When he returned at the end
of the month he expressed his relief that nothing untoward had
happened in his absence. Surabaja Post, Oct. 30, 1958.190
46
would be dealt with sternly. Djuanda and other Government
leaders somewhat anxiously de-emphasized the possibility of a
coup, but public concern was not greatly ameliorated, and the
threat seemed to hang like an axe ready to fall at almost any
time.
The significance of this threat had to do mainly with
the negotiations then developing in the Guided Democracy arena.
Soekarno used it to force concessions from the parties, which
were in effect presented with the choice: accede to the
National Council demands, which would weaken the parties, or
be obliterated by the army. In September, after Nasution had
begun to move on his own against the party system, the weekly
Pesat had put it to the parties that they must either give Soe-
karno full support or confront a military dictatorship.47 By-
October this choice was in even sharper focus. Following a
meeting with Nasution in which the foreign coups were discussed,
Subandrio said that the crisis of liberal democracy in Indone-
sia would be solved differently from the way taken in other
countries; there was an alternative to a choice between liberal
democracy and dictatorship, he insisted—Guided Democracy.48
Party leaders were aware of the dilemma.49 They were able to
stop short of surrendering entirely to the National Council
only because Soekarno himself feared the army and was reluctant
to eliminate the support that the parties could give him.
The Guided Democracy or military rule alternatives were
real ones. For although the army was not at this time inclined
towards a coup, the guarantee that it would not become so de-
pended on a revision of the political system that would satisfy
its interests and demands. Events in Pakistan, Burma, and
Thailand gave army leaders an advantage in the National Council
discussions of late 1958. But it was necessary for them to
46
See the statement by army information officer Harsono,
Pos Indonesia, Oct. 10, 1958. Deputy Chief-of-Staff Gatot
Soebroto said in early December that Indonesia was unsuited for
a coup, because its people were different in character and the
situation was different from the other countries in which armies
had taken over. Pos Indonesia, Dec. 5, 1958.
47
"Menudju ke Demokrasi Terpimpin atau ke-Diktatur"
(Towards Guided Democracy or Dictatorship), Pesat, XIV, no. 37
(Sept. 13, 1958), 3-4.
48Surabaja Post, Oct. 13, 1958.
49
The NU daily, Duta Masjarakat, Oct. 10, 1958, argued
angrily that it would be altogether improper and unfair if the
suspension of political parties in Pakistan were used as an
opportunity to bulldoze the parties with Guided Democracy and
such ideas as functional representation in Parliament.191
define their demands and to explicate the role which they be-
lieved the army must play. Nasution was one of the very few
officers equal to this task.
The reasons why a coup was not likely then in Indonesia
should be emphasized, for they also explain the difficulties
which army leaders faced in working out their political posi-
tion. Although some officers, particularly in the intelligence
branches, were in fact beginning to think favorably of the
possibility of a coup, the predominant view of the officer
corps remained that this would cause more problems than it
would solve. Most Javanese officers remained loyal to Soekarno
as national leader and symbol of national unity. Equally im-
portant was the fact that the unpopularity of the army was too
great, its image too sullied by commercialism, corruption,
profiteering, and coercion; to consider a coup seriously, offi-
cers would have to have been entirely insensitive or profoundly
cynical. If the army had the political advantage of physical
power, it did not have the advantage of legitimacy. This be-
longed to Soekarno, and army leaders therefore chose, in a
sense, to ride his coattails.
Officers, however, were by no means inclined to sur-
render any of the authority which had been put in their hands
since 1957; on the contrary, they wished to extend it. Not
only were they convinced that the army had more to contribute
to national development than civilian politicians, but they
had also become too engaged in the political, economic, and
social life of the country to be willing to withdraw into the
barracks. Yet, unless they were to stage a coup, the only
existing basis for military participation in the political life
of the country was martial law, and that was temporary and
under attack.
In the midst of the furor over foreign coups, discus-
sions in the National Council, and renewed assaults on martial
law, Nasution attempted to formulate the army's position in a
speech that deserves to be called a basic document in Indonesian
constitutional and political development. It was delivered on
November 12th, on the occasion of the first anniversary of the
National Military Academy in Magelang.50 The Indonesian army,
50
See Pos Indonesia, Nov. 13; Pesat, XIV, no. 47 (Nov.
22, 1958), 4-5; Siasat, XII, no. 597 (Nov. 19, 1958), 3.
In late September, Nasution had given an interview to
a Turkish free-lance reporter, Arslan Humbarachi, in which he
presaged his November speech but with heavier emphasis on more
immediate problems. He lashed out at those—Americans and
others—who believed that the Indonesian army could be influ-
enced, as in Latin America, through its personally ambitious
officers. Nasution also stressed the army's support of an in-
dependent foreign policy and of the Pantjasila. As evidence192
said Nasution, could not follow the course of Latin American
armies, which played direct political roles· nor should it emu-
late the passive role prescribed for the military establish-
ments in Western Europe.51 Rather, the Indonesian army must
pursue a "middle-way" between these extremes; the army qua army
would not involve itself in political affairs--i.e., there
would be no coup—yet neither would it be purely a spectator.
Officers must be granted the opportunity to participate in the
government on an individual basis and to make use of their non-
military skills in helping to develop the nation. At the high-
est levels of government, argued Nasution, officers must be
permitted to participate in determining economic, financial,
international, and other policies. Therefore they must have a
place in all the institutions of the state, not only in the
National Council and the cabinet, as was already the case, but
also in the National Planning Council, the diplomatic corps,52
Parliament, and elsewhere in the government. If this were not
granted, Nasution threatened, it could not be guaranteed that
the army would eschew violence to prevent discrimination
against its officers.
of the army's dedication to the Pantjasila, he mentioned the
suppression of the Madiun rebellion and the fight against the
Darul Islam. See Nusantara and Pos Indonesia, Sept. 27, 1958;
also Nasution's Army Day message, Pos Indonesia, Oct. 4, 1958.
It is interesting to note, incidentally, with respect to Nasu-
tion 's statement about being pro-Pantjasila, that in the Na-
tional Council in June Soekarno had also said that a consensus
must be created on the Pantjasila; no one, said Soekarno,
should try to change the Red and White flag into a Green one
or a Red one. The ideological alliance of the army and Soe-
karno against the right and left extremes is here evident.
^Nasution said that Eastern European armies had much
to offer by way of example, although their role also did not
completely satisfy the Indonesian case. The Yugoslav experi-
ence was regarded with some favor by Nasution and other offi-
cers, partly because of the common partisan origins.
52
In early October Lt. Col. Isman, the first army offi-
cer assigned specifically to diplomatic work, was sent to the
U.N. as an advisor to the Indonesian delegation. See Siasat,
XII, no. 591 (Oct. 8, 1958), 5. Brig. Gen. Djatikusumo was
later appointed Consul-General in Singapore, where he remained
until he joined the cabinet in July 1959. Soon numerous offi-
cers were sent to embassies abroad. As in the case of the
army's involvement in the Dutch firms seized in 1957, it was
not always the most able officers who were chosen for these
posts. Army leaders, like party leaders before them, often
used appointments abroad as a means of easing men from the
domestic scene.193
This speech represented a major effort to redefine
civil-military relations, and in general the response to it
was favorable—if for no other reason than its assurance that
there would be no coup in the near future. Djuanda was quick
to praise the middle-way, declaring that Indonesia would not
go the way of military dictatorship.53 in the press Nasution
was hailed as a statesman, as well as a skillful military
leader, who had laid the army's cards on the table with re-
straint and clarity and had kept the national interest in mind
throughout.54 There were doubts, however, about what the
proper role of an army was. The officer corps had displayed
the same symptoms of deterioration as the political parties
before them; army leaders were called upon to eliminate corrup-
tion and high living from the army itself if they were to make
a real contribution.55
Nasution's purpose in giving the middle-way speech at
this time was to make the army's position clear in the negoti-
ations then in progress in the National Council. The issue at
stake was the army's status as a functional group, which would
permit officers legitimately to take their places in the govern
ment with or without martial law. Pending the outcome of
those negotiations, however, martial law remained the basis of
the army's political rights.
The issue of extending martial law arose again in
November-December, by which time the parties and the National
Council had reached an impasse over the latter's proposals to
the cabinet on revision of Parliament, functional groups, and
the establishment of a national front. Martial law was due to
lapse on December 17, 1958, unless Parliament extended it for
another year. Just as the basic conflict of Guided Democracy
was, in many ways, that between the army and the parties,
53
Pedoman, Nov. 15, 1958· Siasat, XII, no. 597 (Nov.
19, 1958), 3. Djuanda's remarks were made at the ceremony
officially transferring control over the ex-Dutch firms, now
nationalized, from the army to various ministries. He replied
here to the New Leader article mentioned above, denying vehe-
mently that Scott's ideas applied to Indonesia.
54
See Pedoman, Nov. 14; Merdeka, Nov. 14; Surabaja
Post, Nov. 17, 1958.
55pedoman, Nov. 14, 1958, said that the middle-way
could be guaranteed only if army excesses were eliminated and
the army cleaned up. An editorial in Suara Rakjat, Nov. 17,
1958, was more skeptical: the problem, it said, was whether
the army, now participating actively in political, economic,
and social affairs, could prevent itself from being influenced
by civilian political groups which also had a say in determin-
ing state policy. See also Mimbar Umum, Nov. 15, 1958.194
martial law was the basic issue on which the conflict turned.
That is to say, for the army martial law was the fundamental
prerequisite for continuing to be politically active until a
permanent arrangement could be worked out? for the parties, it
was the insuperable obstacle preventing their return to author-
ity and, furthermore, the chief threat to their very survival.
After almost two years of martial law, the army was
vulnerable to accusations of having vastly exceeded its author-
ity. Such "excesses" as military detention without indictment
or trial and the growing suppression and control of the press
continued to call forth vigorous protests that the rule of law
was crumbling—as indeed it was—and that free expression and
democracy were being destroyed.56 Party leaders protested
against oppressive restrictions on political activities, har-
assment by local commanders, and interference with Mosque
services. In Parliament, during the budget debates in late
1958, these and numerous other charges were levelled against
the army. In the press there were angry complaints that the
army was too quick to use force rather than persuasion in exer-
cising its authority. At the same time many pointed to symp-
toms of military indiscipline and warlordism, the most vivid
example being the refusal of Col. Sarbini in East Java to im-
plement Government economic regulations.57
Moreover, military involvement in a myriad profitable
aspects of government administration and economic policy ex-
posed the army to the attack that not only was it transgressing
the proper limits of its functions but the economic and admin-
istrative ills which army leaders had set out to remedy so long
ago were instead being aggravated under martial law. Having
θθη October 1, 1958, a new regulation of the Djakarta
commandant required all newspapers and magazines to request a
permit to publish. The reason given was the need for control
over journals that were sensationalist and "in conflict with
morality and public order." Pos Indonesia, Oct. 2, 1958. Per-
mits to publish in Djakarta—the registration numbers had to
be printed on each issue—were given to 21 dailies, 57 weeklies,
40 fortnightlies, 11 monthlies, 11 bimonthlies, 21 quarterlies,
14 irregulars, and 4 news bureaus. Pos Indonesia, Feb. 23,
1959.
57
See Harian Umum, Oct. 29? Surabaja Post, Nov. 3?
Nusantara, Nov. 6? Merdeka, Nov. 24, 1958. Sarbini had refused
to implement not only the rice price increase decided upon by
the Government but also other economic measures of the cabinet.
This direct challenge to Djakarta's authority was played down
with considerable discomfort by the cabinet and by the General
Staff. It is one of the more obvious illustrations of the in-
formal federal system operating through the structure and
authority of the army under martial law.195
assumed authority with gusto, the officer corps now found itself
held partly responsible for bureaucratic malfeasance and eco-
nomic decline, and justly so. Army leaders were on the defen-
sive on all of these scores. They were constrained to agree
that the army did not belong in the economy and promised that
it would withdraw as soon as economic conditions were im-
proved. 58	iate December, Nasution gave assurances that,
contrary to popular suspicion, the army did not intend to hold
power forever· its temporary task under martial law was to
stimulate civilian officials to work better.59 Nasution and
other officers were dismayed by the increasing evidence of
military corruption and commercialism, and they frequently in-
sisted that the officer corps must be purged of all corrupt
elements.60 Yet matters grew continually worse as new horizons
of gain appeared and the social expectations of officers bal-
looned.
In November and December, news leaked out of a major
scandal involving rubber smuggling—which the army was in
charge of eradicating throughout the archipelago--in the Dja-
karta harbor of Tandjung Priok. Those implicated included Col.
Dachjar, commandant of Djakarta, Col. Ibnu Sutowo, inspector-
general for people's defense, Lt. Col. Soekendro, army intelli-
gence chief, and a senior officer in the military police. In
fact the Tandjung Priok smuggling was not as serious a matter
as it was made out to be, for it at least originated in an
attempt to buy badly needed arms in Singapore for which there
58
See Pos Indonesia, Oct. 25, 1958. There were fre-
quent objections within the officer corps to economic activity
by army members. In October, Col. Jusuf, commandant of South
Sulawesi, ordered his officers and troops to choose between
the army and commerce. Harian Umum, Oct. 31, 1958. The trans-
fer of the nationalized Dutch firms to civilian control in
November encouraged some observers, but it should be remembered
that individual officers remained attached to the firms even
after the latter had passed from direct army control. See
Abadi, Nov. 3· Merdeka, Nov. 15; Suara Rakjat, Nov. 18; Pos
Indonesia, Dec. 26, 1958. It was not until much later that
these officers were released from active military service and
made subject to the civil and criminal codes applicable to
business concerns generally.
59
Pos Indonesia, Dec. 24, 1958. This was a speech in
Atjeh to which reactions were favorable but skeptical. Nasu-
tion denied that the army was governing the country: "we only
exercise control, give guidance, and offer stimulation to
civil offices to work harder and take steps against matters
that are not right." But all this, he emphasized, was only
temporary.
60
See statement by Nasution, Mimbar Umum, July 3, 1958;
also Indonesian Observer, Sept. 10, 1958.196
61
was inadequate foreign exchange. But when it was discovered,
Djuanda quickly condemned the smuggling· he and Nasution
asserted that although there were mitigating circumstances in
the case the officers had nevertheless violated the law and
therefore must be punished.
Various attempts to improve the public image of the
army met with no success,which meant that in the parliamen-
tary debates on martial law the officer corps suffered a moral
disadvantage. This was balanced, however, by the low public
regard for the parties, which were blamed for poor political
61
See Bustanil Arifin, "Beberapa segi dari praktek
Undang-undang Keadaan Bahaja tahun 1957" (Aspects of the Oper-
ation of the State of Emergency Law of 1957) in Padjadjaran,
II, no. 2 (Feb. 1960), 67-94, at p. 91. See also Djuanda's
statement before Parliament, Pos Indonesia, Dec. 11, 1958;
Abadi, Dec. 16, 1958. The official story on the "Priok barter"
was that Col. Ibnu Sutowo, a General Staff officer, seeing the
need for more material in operations against the rebels, or-
dered Soekendro, Dachjar, and several others to establish con-
trol over the rubber smuggling to Singapore in order to obtain
foreign exchange with which to buy equipment. Nasution ordered
the barter stopped on discovering it. Pos Indonesia, Jan. 6,
1959. But it was not in fact halted immediately, despite Nasu-
tion 1s claims to the contrary, and various difficulties arising
from it continued into 1959. The officers involved in the
smuggling no doubt enjoyed some personal profit from it. Dju-
anda stated that all foreign exchange realized from the smug-
gling would be turned over to the Government, but it is unlikely
that all of it was.
62
Col. Ibnu was temporarily suspended from active duty,
his post being transferred to Col. Jani. Dachjar was relieved
of his position and sent to the staff school. See Abadi, Jan.
7, 1958.
6 3
For example, the Djakarta military administration
established a special bureau to receive public claims against
abusive and damaging acts by members of the army. But most
persons either feared to make charges or were not used to the
idea of openly claiming against constituted authority. See
Pos Indonesia, Oct. 29; Abadi, Dec. 9, 1958. Concern with the
public image of the army was often in evidence. One illustra-
tion was army information's reminder that the martial law
statute of 1957 was a new and national law, not the colonial
State of Law and Siege (SOB) statute. As the parliamentary
debates on martial law extension neared, the public was asked
to stop referring to martial law as the SOB, which, it was
said, was buried, and to use KB (Keadaan Bahaja, state of emer-
gency) instead. Pos Indonesia, Oct. 28, 1958. But for most
it remained the SOB.197
conditions in the first place. Few people looked forward to a
restoration of party government, even if they also regarded the
army as an incubus.64 Moreover, the moral disadvantage of the
army had little significance when it came to the essential
issues involved, for the officer corps was simply not prepared
to surrender the authority it then possessed.
Djuanda had proposed earlier in the year that martial
law might be gradually lifted as security conditions improved.
By September and October the parties had begun to demand that
martial law be lifted immediately in areas where no rebellion
or other threat to security existed—for example, East and
Central Java, and parts of West Java, Kalimantan, Sumatra, and
Sulawesi.65 Local party branches were trying to elude the re-
straints imposed by local army commands, who were equally de-
termined not to relinquish the reins of authority. The General
Staff and regional commanders were unanimously agreed that
martial law must remain in force everywhere. Nasution convened
a second major conference of commanding officers on October
23rd-25th. The key decision of this meeting was that martial
law must be extended for another year throughout the country?
a partial lifting was unacceptable.66 Army leaders countered
the parties' anti-extension efforts with the argument that
security in one area affected all other areas, and therefore
martial law must remain in force everywhere. They also empha-
sized the need to guard against subversive activities, to
carry on the West Irian campaign, to control cold-war influ-
ences, to attend to the exigencies of economic and social de-
velopment, and to follow up the army's victories against the
rebellion.67 Regional commanders in some cases stated simply—
as did Col. Sjamaun Gaharu of Atjeh—that martial law would be
maintained for the sake of security and development, and that
the people did not want it to be lifted.68
64
See Surabaja Post, Nov. 22, 1958.
65
All the major parties were agreed that the country
would be much better off without martial law, though their
emphases differed somewhat. See Pos Indonesia, Sept. 29, Oct.
23· Suluh Indonesia, Nov. 12, 20? Harian Umum, Nov. 22, 1958.
Masjumi objected in principle to martial law and sarcastically
reminded the other parties that it had opposed the proclamation
of the state of siege in 1957 when they had supported it. But
Masjumi too went along with the Government's later decision on
extension. Abadi, Dec. 1, 1958.
Pos Indonesia, Oct. 19, 26, Nov. 8.
6Ύ
Pos Indonesia, Oct. 28, Nov. 8, 1958? Pesat, XIV,
no. 44 (Nov. 1, 1958), 3-4.
^Nusantara, Nov. 10, 1958.198
Army leaders were faced with opposition not only from
the parties hut also from within the armed forces, by the air-
force. Air-Commodore Suryadarma supported the parties' case
for lifting martial law in secure areas, and a special meeting
of air-force officers in November reported the same view to
the Government.θθ Rivalry between the air-force and the army
had been in evidence for some time, and was gradually incorpor-
ated into the remarkably intricate set of checks and balances
of the Guided Democracy political system. In army circles
Suryadarma was regarded with suspicion because of the close-
ness of his and his wife's relations with the PKI. What is
more important, in assessing the position of the air-force, is
the feeling that many of its officers had of being very much
out of things in contrast with the politically active and
powerful army, particularly since the proclamation of martial
law in 1957.'θ Soekarno used this tension to help keep the
army in check, and he may indeed have encouraged Suryadarma1s
opposition to martial law. But the air-force and the parties
together were no match for the army.
The cabinet decided in early November to request Par-
liament to extend national martial law for one year.”71 The
National Council also advised extension. In effect, there was
no other decision that could be made, for rejection of the
army's demand for extension would have made the threat of a
coup more real; and an attempt to take away the authority of a
few regional commanders might have created a situation in which
they would ignore the central government's decision. In addi-
tion, martial law was the basis also of the Kabinet Karya and
of the effort to create a new political system. Even had it
been possible to remove martial law entirely, Soekarno would
See Pesat, XIV, no. 46 (Nov. 15, 1958), 3-5; Pos
Indonesia, Nov. 8, 1958. See also Suryadarma's message on
Armed Forces Day, Pos Indonesia, Oct. 6, 1958.
70
The navy, least political of the armed services,
took no strong stand on martial law. Under martial law, the
air-force was given full authority over the air space of the
country, the navy over the territorial waters.
71
In early November, after returning from abroad,
Djuanda held several meetings on the very tense issue of mar-
tial law. On Nov. 6, he met with Suryadarma, Navy Chief
Subijakto, and Lt. Col. Mashudi, representing Nasution, along
with Hardi, Idham Chalid, Leimena, Suprajogi, Chief Prosecutor
Soeprapto, and several other ministers. On the 7th the cabi-
net convened in Tjipanas, in the mountains to the south of
Djakarta, to take its decision on extension. See Pos Indonesia,
Nov. 7, 8; Nusantara, Nov. 7, 1958.199
not have wanted to do so, for that would have restored the pre-
1957 situation, at least in formal terms.72
The parliamentary debates on martial law began on
December 2nd and lasted for two strained weeks, during which
every aspect of martial law came under scrutiny and attack.73
The basic demand of most parties was that the Government re-
move martial law in at least some areas.74 On December 8th,
Djuanda promised Parliament that efforts would be made to re-
duce the army's role in the economy and to put a stop to mar-
tial law "excesses." He also reported on the army's activities
with respect to the take-over of Dutch firms, control of the
Kuomintang, and the anti-corruption campaign. In connection
with the latter, the parties were rattled by Djuanda's release
of a full list of persons charged with crimes of corruption.
Several PNI, Masjumi, and NU leaders were included in the list.75
72
Pemuda, Oct. 22, 1958, the strongly pro-Soekarno
paper, supported extension of martial law throughout the coun-
try, arguing, inter alia, that under martial law the government
was able to promote the interests of the people and to move
against oppressive and corrupt businessmen. The Partai Murba,
on its 10th anniversary, issued a statement to the effect that
national martial law remained necessary in the interests of
carrying out Guided Democracy and creating a guided economy.
Pos Indonesia, Nov. 7, 1958.
73
Djuanda's written statement on the bill to extend
martial law for one year was delivered to Parliament on Nov.
25. When the debate began he asked that informal discussions
be held with him on questions "too delicate" to be dealt with
in open session. Risalah Perundingan 1958, session of Dec. 2,
p. 5026.
74
See the speech by Slamat Ginting (PNI), Risalah
Perundingan 1958, session of Dec. 22, pp. 5027 ff.
75
Following protests by the parties whose members'
names were mentioned, Djuanda stated that the men were only
accused, not yet proved guilty. Among those included in the
list for various crimes were Dr. Ong Eng Die (PNI, former
Minister of Finance), Mr. Iskaq Tjokrohadisurjo (PNI, former
Minister of Economic Affairs), Dr. A. K. Gani (chairman, South
Sumatra PNI), Soediro (PNI), Zainul Arifin (NU), Djamaludin
Malik (NU), Jusuf Wibisono (Masjumi), R. Moch. Kaffrawi (Mas-
jumi), and several others from such parties as the PSI, the
PSII, the PIR, and even one from the PKI, Hutomo Supardan, in
connection with the organization of an agricultural and indus-
trial fair in Surabaja by the "Centre for Economical Fairs of
Indonesia" (C.E.F.I.). See appendix to Djuanda's statement to
Parliament, Risalah Perundingan 1958, pp. 5154-5156? also in
Ministry of Information, Djawaban Pemerintah mengenai R.U.U.200
On December 15th Djuanda spoke once more in the debates, offer-
ing the parties a compromise that in fact gave them very little.
The Government, he said, would review martial law within six
months to determine its status in various areas· where condi-
tions were normal or improved, a less drastic level of martial
law might be implemented.7θ He also emphasized the point, as
Soekarno had done at an army conference a few days earlier,
that civilian functions should be handed back to civilians.77
(This army conference, begun on December 10th, was the third
conference in 1958 of national and regional commanders, and
was undoubtedly intended to bring pressure to bear on Parlia-
ment. 78)
There was never any real doubt that martial law would
be extended. Despite their reluctance, the PNI and NU were
committed to the cabinet decision—though the PNI continued
openly to favor a partial extension only—and the PKI was not
likely by itself to oppose it unequivocally.79 The parties
Tentang Perpandjangan Djangka Waktu Keadaan Perang (Government
Reply on the Bill to Extend the Period of Application of the
State of War), pp. 79-84. It should be emphasized that, as
Djuanda said, not all those accused were in fact guilty, though
a good number were. Not all those accused were actually pro-
secuted.
7 6
The Government, said Djuanda, was also prepared to
draft several amendments to the existing martial law statute
after Parliament recessed. The statute was not in fact amended,
however, until the end of 1959, when it was fundamentally re-
vised. For Djuanda1s statement to Parliament, see Risalah
Perundingan 1958, session of Dec. 15, pp. 5508-5515.
77
Soekarno1s statement to the officers, on Dec. 11, was
quoted by Djuanda, Risalah Perundingan 1958, Dec. 15, pp. 5514-
5515. Stressing the need to restore security quickly, Soekarno
also made a strong appeal to the conference for civilian func-
tions to be quickly restored to civilian offices, and for the
strengthening of discipline within the army itself.
78
See Pos Indonesia, Dec. 3, 13, 14, 1958. The confer-
ence also discussed the organization and expansion of the
National Front for the Liberation of West Irian.
79
Pedoman, Nov. 27, 1958. Interpreting martial law as
a response to the security problem, the PKI agreed to extension
but insisted that efforts must be intensified to crush the re-
bellion as quickly as possible. As it had done in 1957 and
1958, the PKI also proposed that people's organizations be
equipped to fight the rebels; but this the army rejected, as
before, as an attempt by the PKI either to arm itself or to
infiltrate the army. See speech by J. Piry (PKI) in the budget
debates, Risalah Perundingan 1958, session of Nov. 27, at p.
4859.201
were afraid of provoking the army to a coup, a possibility of
which Djuanda reminded them when the debates became too acri-
monious. On December 15th Parliament voted to extend the state
of emergency for one year, the four major parties concurring.θθ
With the extension of martial law, the battle of Guided
Democracy was all but over. The parties could not hope ever
to regain the initiative. They could only bargain within the
martial law political system, in which Soekarno and the army
were supreme.θΐ
The National Council and Guided
Democracy:	First Phase
From July through November of 1958, the National Council
developed a set of basic proposals on Guided Democracy. These
proposals were primarily aimed at reducing the role of the
party system and making room for functional representation and
a new national front as the eventual replacement of the parties
within the government.
Soekarno approached the National Council discussions
with a characteristic mixture of outward radicalism and delib-
erate caution. In his public speeches, he continued to demand
that the very roots of liberal democracy be torn out.82 But
apart from insisting that the Decree of November 3, 1945—which
had first encouraged the formation of parties--should be ripped
to shreds, he made no concrete proposals. Soekarno portrayed
himself as a begetter of broad ideas whose details others were
better able to fill in. By thus sketching a profile and wait-
ing for others to work out its details, Soekarno allowed himself
80
Risalah Perundingan 1958, pp. 5516-5523.
81
As a final note on the role of the army and the threat
of a coup, on Dec. 19, when Parliament finally passed the 1959
budget after long and tempestuous debate, Djuanda stated that
the Government was always alert to avoid a coup and that Indo-
nesia was not likely to succumb to one; but if the Government
and Parliament were not careful, he said, it might happen.
Pos Indonesia, Dec. 20, 1958. The remark was pertinent to the
discussion then going on between the cabinet and the National
Council with respect to revision of the parliamentary system.
Djuanda was in effect warning the parties not to be obstinate
about accepting some changes, lest the army take matters into
its own hands.
82
See, for example, Soekarno1s Independence Day (Aug.
17) address of 1958, Dari Proklamasi sampai Resopim, pp. 355-
388. The speech was entitled "Tahun Tantangan" (A Year of
Challenge).202
time to assess the balance of forces and pick out the best com-
promise between divergent views and interests. His ability to
do this has been a necessary condition of leadership unsupported
by a tightly organized political force. In 1958 this was all
the more urgent as it seemed possible that the army might simply
decide to trample the parties underfoot, leaving Soekarno power-
less to control its actions. Soekarno1s effort to lead the
nation towards a wholly new political system was circumscribed
not only by the limits of his imagination (though not his
vision) but also, and more importantly, by the ever present
danger that the system might pass out of his control.
Soekarno did not have a great deal to work with in
developing Guided Democracy. Ultimately he hoped that Indonesia
would be led by a national mass organization on the radical
non-Communist left. But as yet not even the seeds of such an
organization were discernable. Every party but the PKI was
decrepit and basically conservative. Soekarno's anger with the
PNI--ideologically his only choice among the parties—was partly
traceable to its inability to serve as the foundation for the
kind of organization which he admired in China and the Soviet
Union. In the National Council, when asked about the possibil-
ity of creating a single state party or a "pioneer party" simi-
lar to the Indian Congress or the Burmese AFPFL, Soekarno curtly
dismissed the idea by pointing out that if there were a party
with the necessary dynamism, support, and ideological vigor,
it would emerge naturally as the national pace-setter.83 But
it was the PKI that was doing precisely that, and, as has been
argued, part of Soekarno's objective was to prevent it from so
emerging. A possible alternative seemed to be the army's
National Front for the Liberation of West Irian (FNPIB). Two
factors worked against this, however. First, the army 4lite
was basically as conservative as most party leaders, but second,
and more decisive, Soekarno would not depend solely on the
army's political organization any more than he would on the
PKI; to do so would be to give the army almost uncontested
power. For the same reason, to avoid depending on the army
alone, the parties could not be abolished.
Soekarno told the National Council that he did not be-
lieve the parties could be eliminated. However desirable that
was, he said, one had to strike a balance between das Sollen
and das Sein, a dichotomy that had become a popular cliche
among national politicians. Das Sein was the many parties,
which, because they represented social forces, could not be
83
In July and August rumors about a pioneer party or a
single state party (staatspartij) were going around Djakarta.
The capital press made a good deal of a proposal by Gatot
Mangkupradja that Indonesia should have a staatspartij, as in
China. See Siasat, XII, no. 585 (Aug. 27, 1958), 8^ 23.203
84
eliminated by snapping one's fingers. Moreover, there was
as yet nothing to replace them. Consequently, a beginning had
to be made by drastically reforming existing institutions in
deliberate steps towards Guided Democracy, now represented em-
bryonically by the National Council and, when it was formed,
the National Planning Council. Thus the party system must be
"simplified" to reduce the number of parties and to lessen
ideological conflict. A new elections law, then coming under
cabinet consideration, together with a new political parties
law would replace the Decree of November 3, 1945.
At the same time, functional groups must be introduced
permanently into the Parliament. The main objective of Guided
Democracy, said Soekarno, was a just and prosperous socialist
society, to be achieved through planning in every field. The
cabinet's acceptance of the National Council proposal to create
a planning council was a healthy step in that direction; but
what good would an effective socialist "blue-print" be if it
were only to be destroyed by an ineffective liberal Parliament
controlled by a party system whose essential characteristics
were self-interest, multiplicity, and ideological conflict?
The operation of Guided Democracy will begin at the
moment a basic development plan for the just and prosper-
ous society is completely finished. The evaluation of this
plan cannot be entrusted to a Parliament which arose from
the liberal system. Consequently a revision is necessary
of the structure and procedure of selecting the next Par-
liament and also of the party system.
And, to be sure, the Parliament which decides upon this
84
Utrecht has said that Soekarno decided the parties
could not be abolished, because they represented "social move-
ments." "If the only function of the political parties was as
an apparatus for selection (in the hands of a small group of
men—i.e., party big-shots or political adventurers) then the
parties could certainly be eradicated. In Indonesia, even
though the selection apparatus character of the parties...is...
conspicuous, yet it cannot be doubted that the large parties,
like Masjumi, the PNI, and PKI are 'social movements'. (The
NU, an extremely opportunistic political party, seems to be
purely a selection apparatus in the hands of several kiaji and
ulamas)." (Pengantar Dalam Hukum Indonesia [Djakarta? Ichtiar,
1959]), p. 456. To some extent, of course, this was true. The
popular strength of the PKI, the religious zeal of many of
Masjumi's members, the PNI's hold in the bureaucracy, and the
NU's support among Javanese kiaji—Utrecht's remark notwith-
standing—made it impossible to consider abolition seriously;
not even army leaders, I think, actually did so in 1958. Rather,
the objective of anti-party forces was to wear the parties
down while building up a substitute for them.204
blue-print must be a Parliament which is no longer formed
according to the procedure of or from the world of liberal
democracy. Such a [liberal democratic] Parliament is not
only incapable of understanding, but also might well twist
and transform that socialist blue-print into a liberal
blue-print.85
The new Parliament which Soekarno envisaged would not be based
on political parties alone, but primarily on functional groups:
a technical prerequisite for the operation of Guided Democ-
racy is a national Parliament consisting in particular of
functional group representation—aided by regional legis-
latures consisting also primarily of functional group
representatives, and acting as executive boards charged
with responsibility for the blue-print allocations for the
regions.86
The idea of functional representation remained unclear to most
minds, and it was never developed with precision. What was
clear was that Soekarno, Nasution, and other exponents of anti-
party views regarded functional representation as the very
antithesis of party representation. The latter divided society
along ideological lines, and it was partly to eliminate ideo-
logical conflict that the new political order was conceived.87
85
The first paragraph above is Roeslan Abdulgani's
paraphrasing of Soekarno's comments to the National Council;
the second is a direct quote from Soekarno reported by Roeslan.
See Roeslan's speech before the seminar on the Pantjasila in
Jogjakarta in February 1959: "Pantja Sila sebagai Landasan
Demokrasi Terpimpin" (The Pantja Sila as the Basis of Guided
Democracy) in Seminar Pantjasila ke-I (Jogjakarta: Seminar Com-
mittee, 1959), p. 148. Several informative speeches by Roeslan
provide the material on the National Council discussions.
86
Roeslan's paraphrasing of Soekarno, ibid.
87
See Achmadi (then vice-chairman of the FNPIB), "Kedu-
dukan Dewan Nasional dan Front Nasional dalam Ketatanegaraan
Republik Indonesia" (The Position of the National Council and
the National Front in the Structure of the Republic of Indonesia),
an article written for the anniversary in October of the Student
Senate of the law faculty of the University of Indonesia in the
Minister of Information's special issue no. 31, Karya Sumbangsih.
Arguing the case of functional representation, Achmadi pointed
out that the division of Indonesian society into ideological
categories had proved not to be the proper and effective divi-
sion, because it was a consequence of the colonial system.
Ideological categories, he said, did not match the interests
found in Indonesian society, and the result was considerable
instability (p. 13).205
Moreover, functional groups were regarded by Soekarno as a
source of new political leadership (and support) and political
energy. They would serve to represent all those interests
which the parties had failed to represent—particularly the
army, whose exclusion from the political arena had threatened
the state with disaster.
To mobilize the people and to consolidate the new
forces represented by the functional groups, Soekarno and the
radical nationalist Murba (or Murba sympathizing) group—in-
cluding most prominently Sukarni and Chaerul Saleh—visualized
a national front organization which would eventually become a
huge state party and assume the role of the party organizations
of the Soviet Union and China.
To formulate some of these ideas into tentative pro-
posals to the cabinet, a committee of the National Council was
appointed in July.88 The committee was headed by Ahem Erning-
pradja, as chairman, B. M. Diah, and J. K. Tumakaka.88 Func-
tioning as a subcommittee, these three and several others had
the task of bringing together the various views represented by
the large parent committee. This was a most difficult assign-
ment, for the National Council itself enjoyed no consensus,
and the minority of members representing party interests were
hostile to all proposals seriously threatening the party system
Because of this division between a minority represent-
ing the parties and a majority representing an anti-party view
or amenable to Soekarno's influence, the National Council dis-
cussions took on the character of tense constitutional debates.
The differences of approach went deep on several issues. One
88
Between plenums of the National Council, usually held
for two or three days once late in the month, its procedure
called for further consideration of important matters by ad hoc
committees. Soekarno and Roeslan chose this committee to repre
sent as many varying points of view as possible. The ad hoc
committee on Guided Democracy consisted of twenty-eight members
including Nasution, Chief of Police Sukanto, Chief Prosecutor
Soeprapto, and others of highly divergent political interests.
A smaller subcommittee was responsible for working out the
consensus of the large committee and drafting a set of proposal
for consideration by the plenum. Once accepted, these pro-
posals were sent to the cabinet as the advice of the National
Council.
89
Ahem was a PNI labor leader; B. M. Diah was editor
of the independent nationalist daily Merdeka; Tumakaka was a
radical nationalist PNI member, though soon to leave the party,
and a recent appointee to the National Council. See Tumakaka1s
short book, Demokrasi Terpimpin, published in early 1959 by
the Ministry of Information.206
conflict that was put aside for the sake of agreement concerned
the economic basis of Guided Democracy. The Murba leader,
Sukarni, and several others took a firm stand in favor of a
radical socialist program. NU members on the committee quickly
indicated their fears for the security of private property.
But such issues were incidental to the main concern of the com-
mittee, namely the governmental system, where the major conflict
centered around the role of functional groups. In the Ahem
committee's deliberations party members partly succeeded in
pushing this matter into the background. They also succeeded
in watering down recommendations for a new national mass organ-
ization, on which radical nationalist members of the committee
put considerable emphasis. These successes were temporary,
however.
The chief point of interest in this phase of the Na-
tional Council discussions was the conflict over the constitu-
tional basis of Guided Democracy. Most members of the Ahem
committee assumed, as Soekarno himself did, that until the Con-
stituent Assembly completed its work, the 1950 provisional con-
stitution would remain basically in effect. A majority of
proposals to the committee favored simplification of the party
system, more formal authority for Soekarno, and other piece-
meal institutional revisions. The one fairly complete program,
Nasution's, took a different tack befitting the novel course
army leaders were following.
Nasution did not propose that the parties be abolished.
He did suggest 1) that the President call all party leaders
together in an effort to reduce tensions, 2) that a new law
limit the number of parties and establish government control
over their finances and membership, and 3) that the election
system be revised to eliminate straight party lists, so that,
as many others had proposed, the representative would be brought
into closer contact with his constituents. But all civil serv-
ants should be prohibited from joining political parties? and
the same rule, according to Nasution, must apply to the armed
forces (including the police), who should also be denied the
right to vote. The rationale behind this was to prevent fur-
ther politicization of the military. To make up for the sacri-
fice of their political rights, however, representatives of the
armed forces must be appointed to Parliament and other govern-
mental bodies. This was one key item in Nasution's program.
Its aim was to reduce the unstabilizing political role of the
army in exchange for giving it a permanent place in the govern-
ment. In a broader sense, it was also hoped that by bringing
the army legitimately into the structure of the government,
the officer corps would be made more responsible politically
and better able to make a constructive contribution to the
state. In support of military participation in the government,
Nasution appealed to the history of the revolution, when both
military and civilian leaders led the state to independence.207
His second key proposal was also in the tradition of
the revolution. This was that Indonesia's need for secure and
stable leadership could best be satisfied by the 1945 Constitu-
tion. The revolutionary constitution incorporated an extremely
strong executive system, in which the President was responsible
only to an intermittently convened People's Consultative Assem-
bly (Madjelis Permusjawaratan Rakjat). It had been in effect
for only a short time, August, September, and October, 1945,
before the government was changed de facto into a parliamentary
form under the leadership of Prime Minister Sjahrir.90 a major
consideration in Nasution's preference for the 1945 Constitution
was that, with Soekarno as the strong president, executive
authority and nationwide popular trust were combined in the
same man.91 Moreover, parliamentary obstruction of the execu-
tive was eliminated, and for the period of at least five years
between elections for the presidency, the Government could
work free of interference.
Behind Nasution's proposal there were other important
considerations of both constitutional and more immediate polit-
ical significance. One was that certain articles of the 1945
Constitution could be interpreted as providing for representa-
tion of functional groups, thus eliminating the necessity of
an artificial constitutional basis for this innovation. Another
was that repromulgating the early constitution would eliminate
the Constituent Assembly, the forum of ideological conflict·
90
On the 1945 Constitution see George McT. Kahin,
"Indonesia," in Kahin, ed., Major Governments of Asia (Ithaca,
N.Y.s Cornell University Press, 2nd ed., 1963), pp. 564 ff.
For the text of this constitution, see the appendix to the pre-
sent study.
91
Nasution's views on the 1945 Constitution can be found
in his enlightening book, Tjatatan2 sekitar Politik Militer
Indonesia (Djakarta? Pembimbing C.V., 1955), especially pp. 20,
99, and 194. Nasution told Louis Fischer that "I believe in
the 1945 Constitution and never understood why it was scrapped."
He said further that "We need a Parliament consisting of a body
directly representing the electors and another body representing
the regions and functional groups [thus in part a federal ar-
rangement], A conference of both would choose the president
and vice-president and outline a five-year national program.
This is what we had after 1945, but Sjahrir changed all that
to prove that we were democratic. Dr. Hatta restored the 1945
system in 1948 [under a "presidential" emergency business cabi-
net]· then we dropped it in 1950. I would put it back again.
But I haven't the power. The army has no power to make such a
change and the Constituent Assembly will not consent." Fischer,
The Story of Indonesia (New York? Harper and Brothers, 1959),
pp. 291-292. Mr. Fischer has informed me that his interview
with Nasution took place on May 15, 1958.208
the preamble of the 1945 Constitution incorporated the ideas of
the Pantjasila.92 Finally/ from another point of view, many
officers, including those who had joined the rebellion, favored
the 1945 Constitution.^ Nasution and the General Staff may
have hoped that its restoration would convince rebel officers
of the basic similarity of views between all army members, and
the PRRI officers would then be encouraged to end the rebellion
Although there was some support for Nasution's proposal
on the 1945 Constitution, the majority of the Ahem Committee
did.not accept it.94 one reason was the fear generated by
Nasution1s initiative in the matter. In addition, however, it
was felt that a precipitous restoration of the 1945 Constitu-
tion would have to be done forcibly and on the basis of martial
law, leaving little room for compromise. The Constituent
Assembly and Parliament would have to be abolished forthwith—
so the committee assumed— because the 1945 Constitution pro-
vided for completely different institutions. Naturally party
exponents on the National Council vehemently opposed this
possibility. But Nasution remained as adamantly opposed to
any other plan and expressed his reservations about the commit-
tee compromise by which the 1945 Constitution could be resorted
to only in case other possibilities failed.
92
A year earlier, the 1945 Constitution made a little-
noticed appearance in the Konstituante. In August 1957, the
Front of Defenders of the 1945 Proclamation, a group of small
parties in the Constituent Assembly whose combination had no
significance beyond this act, introduced a resolution promoting
the 1945 Constitution as the basis for a new constitution. The
parties included, among others, Murba, GPPS, Labor, BTI, PPPRI
(Persatuan Pegawai Polisi Republik Indonesia, Union of Police
Officials of the Republic of Indonesia),and IPKI, Nasution's
old party. See Konstituante, constitutional preparatory com-
mittee, session III, meeting 23, August 13, 1957, p. 10 (mimeo).
The resolution reflected opposition to ideological Islam and
bicameralism; both would suffer under the 1945 Constitution,
which incorporated the Pantjasila and a unitary state structure.
93
Possibly the first significant mention of the 1945
Constitution in this period was made in December 1956, when
several officers delivered a "political concept" (the December
4th Idea) to Col. Simbolon before the coup in North Sumatra.
The officers expressed their dedication to the Proclamation of
Independence of 1945 and to the Constitution of 1945. See IP
3/1957, p. 19, session of January 21, 1957, Prime Minister Ali's
report on the regional crisis.
94
Others on the Ahem Committee made proposals based on
parts of the 1945 Constitution. One who did so was Iwa Kusu-
masumantri, an old line left-wing nationalist who had been
Minister of Defense in the first Ali Cabinet (1953-1955). He
too favored the strong presidential aspect of the early consti-
tution.209
In view of the influence of Nasution's proposal on
later developments, it is necessary to consider briefly Soe-
karno' s probably attitude towards the 1945 Constitution. One
can only speculate, for Soekarno, unlike nearly every other
political leader, never made his attitude clear too early in
the game. It seems likely that in 1958 he did not favor the
1945 Constitution. Apart from the consideration that the army
might win too great an advantage from so fundamental a change,
the 1945 Constitution would place an enormous burden of re-
sponsibility squarely on Soekarno's shoulders. He had never
evidenced any desire for formal responsibility after the revo-
lution. In 1957 he had evaded all proposals that he assume
accountable authority—e.g., as head of the cabinet—in part
because this was what his opponents wanted and he feared the
vulnerability of such a position. In the National Council
discussions of 1958 he made no attempt to fit himself into the
structural picture of Guided Democracy; nor did he appear to
want any real change in his role of authoritative but non-
responsible leader. It is indicative that although he attacked
the Decree of November 3, 1945, he did not mention the equally
famous vice-presidential Decree no. X of October 16, 1945,
which had transferred the powers of the President to the legis-
lature (KNIP), thus creating a parliamentary system in spite
of the constitution.95 similarly he did not respond enthusi-
astically to repeated proposals by the PNI and other groups
that he head a presidential cabinet. The Ahem Committee's
proposals were probably more in line with his thinking.
The Ahem Committee wrestled laboriously with the vari-
ous ideas before it during the first two weeks of August,
finally producing a tentative report only by means of painstak-
ing compromises that left some room for interpretation. Much
of the report was based on Soekarno's comments before the
National Councils the bases of Guided Democracy were the
Pantjasila, the struggle for a just and prosperous society,
national identity, planning, and a new parliament "not formed
95
For the text of the Decree—X, not 10, because at the
time it was drafted it happened that no one knew where it be-
longed chronologically—see Koesnodiprodjo, Himpunan Undang2,
Peraturan2, Penetapan2, Pemerintah Republik Indonesia (Compila-
tion of the Laws, Regulations, and Decrees of the Government
of the Republic of Indonesia), vol. for 1945, pp. 58-59. In
the second half of 1958 there were occasional public references
to Decree no. X and to the 1945 Constitution. See, e.g., Pos
Indonesia, Aug. 13, 1958; Achmadi in Karya Sumbangsih, p. 14.
But in general the 1945 Constitution did not receive a great
deal of attention at this time. In his August 17th speech
Soekarno mentioned the 1945 Constitution only indirectly in a
reference to the preambles of all three constitutions.210
by liberal procedures." Djuanda, when he saw the report, in-
sisted that the words "but still democratic" be added to this
latter phrase. He was also skeptical about whether the polit-
ical parties law proposed by the committee could be pushed
through Parliament. The committee's proposals were as followsj96
I.	Constitution: Guided Democracy can be carried out
... within the framework of the existing provisional
constitution, without foreclosing the possibility of
turning ... to the 1945 Constitution.
II.	Parties and Mass Organizations: ... the Government
Decree of November 3 must be rescinded and replaced
with a law on political parties and mass organizations.
... In this law ... a) the parties and mass or-
ganizations must [agree with and support the basic
ideas of Guided Democracy] . . .; b) [there must be]
a proper categorization of the people according to
interests and ideology. ...
III.	Elections: The election law (7/1953) must be brought
into line with . . . Guided Democracy in accordance
with the following conditions:
1.	[Only parties which fulfill the conditions in II
above may put up candidates].
2.	Conditions of candidature must be made more diffi-
cult.
3.	Elections must be direct. ...
IV.	The System of Government: In order to bring the
governmental system ... into line with Guided Democ-
racy, the basic ideas on . . . the parties, mass or-
ganizations, and elections must be carried out first.
... Therefore during the present transitional period
the Kabinet Karya and the National Council can be
maintained, without excluding the possibility of im-
proving them. In connection with this, it is extremely
important that the authority and prestige of his
excellency President Soekarno must be brought to bear
maximally as a catalyst in concentrating authority
in order to achieve Guided Democracy. [My italics]
V.	Konstituante:	... the Konstituante must finish its
task within a set time period, and produce a consti-
tution not in conflict with the ideals of the Procla-
mation of August 17, 1945.
96
The full report can be found in a speech by Roeslan
Abdulgani delivered before a Ministry of Information conference
on Sept. 13, later issued in mimeograph form by the National
Council's offices.211
VI. [The Institutions of government must be cleaned up
and improved in order to prepare a government appa-
ratus to which the execution of Guided Democracy may
be entrusted.]
The clarification of the report was far more radical in tone,
putting considerable emphasis on the urgent need to develop a
national front organization under Soekarno's leadership.
This first phase of the National Council discussions
produced few definite conclusions. The Ahem Committee's task
had been to explore basic ideas and to sound out attitudes.
It admitted to a lack of unanimity in its report, which was
sent to the cabinet as material for further consideration but
not for action. The next phase of the Guided Democracy delib-
erations, during September and October, was more substantive.
Meanwhile, outside the National Council's closed doors,
Soekarno banked on compelling the parties to accept peacefully
whatever proposals the Council produced. The PNI, NU, and the
PKI had all outwardly supported Guided Democracy since 1957—
as Masjumi frequently pointed out with weighty irony and sar-
casm—and Soekarno attempted to hold them to their commitments
and thus to assure a parliamentary majority for the National
Council program. The three parties, however, refused to follow
docilely to their own slaughter.
From July through August the parties were responding
to only the wildest rumors—about abolition of the parties,
formation of a staatspartij, and simplification of the party
system. The fear of a final solution spearheaded by the army
weighed heavily on them, seriously limiting their ability to
maneuver. Without initiative, and uncertain of what to expect
from the National Council, the parties tended to withdraw into
an uncomfortable posture of defensive conservatism.θ? Almost
unanimously they rejected radical solutions and defended the
party system as the essential basis of government. Forced to
consider simplification as the least drastic approach, the par-
ties insisted that the best way to alter the party system was
through Parilament7 but they contributed little that was
97
During most of this period the deliberations of the
National Council were secret. In the capital city, however,
political leaders were aware of what was being discussed and
what views were being put forward. Not only were they kept in-
formed by their own friends on the Council, but also a fairly
constant stream of rumor leaked out of the Council, so that
generally within the Djakarta elite—as was always the case—
there was no lack of information. But outside of Djakarta
political information was slower in getting about, with the
result that estimations of what Soekarno might do, or the army
might do, tended to extremes.212
meaningful to a discussion of reform. The PKI, then trying to
save the 1959 elections, was alone in arguing consistently that
simplification must he accomplished through elections. The
other parties, whose interest in elections was waning, tended
to favor mechanical reforms. PNI and NU leaders, for example,
proposed abolition of the smaller parties, thereby arousing
the indignant ire of minor party leaders who argued that the
big parties were much more responsible for the sorry conditions
of the country than were the small ones.9® A number of propos-
als were made by both Islamic and secular parties that the par-
ty system might be divided into two or three basic groups—
Islamic, secular nationalist, and Communist—each of which
would eventually consolidate. But few of these ideas were
taken seriously? and in any case, as everyone knew, they missed
the point of Guided Democracy.
The PNI, NU, and the PKI were in no position to take
stands as consistent as that of Masjumi, which had refused from
the start to pay even lip-service to Guided Democracy.99 They
continued pro-forma to aver their support of Soekarno and
Guided Democracy but promptly hedged when it came down to
brass tacks. The PKI insisted that Guided Democracy meant a
gotong-rojong cabinet—which NU and, less openly, the PNI re-
garded as an obnoxious interpretation. But both of these par-
ties, like the PKI, took stands that obstructed any program of
drastic change. In August, before Soekarno's Independence Day
address—in which it was rumored that he would announce the
abolition of Parliament and/or the parties—the PKI, NU, and
the PNI made their views clear. Lukman affirmed the PKI's ob-
jections to any attempt to enforce simplification from above?
if simplification were to succeed, he said, or if a staatspartij
were to emerge, it would have to come from below, from the
people, and therefore through elections.Ιθθ Both NU and the
PNI held party council meetings in August specifically to dis-
cuss party policy on Guided Democracy. NU issued the stronger
statement, accepting Guided Democracy but only on the bewildering
98
See the statement by Prof. Abidin (Labor Party) in
the Konstituante, Siasat, XII, no. 586 (Sept. 3, 1958), 3?
Nusantara, Aug. 15, 1958, blamed the PNI and NU especially for
the national decline. See also Suluh Indonesia, Aug. 7, 1958,
for an editorial proposing that parties without representation
in Parliament might be abolished to reduce the number of par-
ties. This was before a few PNI MP's joined Partindo. Suwirjo
suggested that simplification should be undertaken by Parlia-
ment, or, alternatively, some parties could voluntarily dis-
solve and join like-minded parties. Pos Indonesia, Aug. 6,
1958.
99
For Masjumi statements on Guided Democracy, see Indo-
nesia Raja, July 4? Republik, Aug. 21, 1958.
^%os Indonesia, Aug. 11? Harian Rakjat, July 7, 1958.213
conditions that Parliament, the Konstituante, and the entire
parliamentary system remain just as they were.101 The PNI
meeting was held under the worst circumstances. Battered un-
mercifully in the press and badly damaged only a few days
earlier by the splitting-off of Partindo, the PNI was under
great pressure to give its unequivocal support to Soekarno.
But despite the fact that many older generation party leaders
were discomfited by the loss of Soekarno1 s favor and eager to
give him this support, a majority of the party council was un-
willing to give carte blanche to the National Council in making
its proposals. The final statement of the party council meet-
ing was as equivocal as the National Council's intentions were
uncertain. Just as NU supported Guided Democracy because it
was "not in conflict with Islam," so the PNI supported it be-
cause it was "not in conflict with Marhaenism."1^2 special
committee, headed by Hardi, was appointed by the party execu-
tive council to contribute new ideas to the formulation of
Guided Democracy.
Thus, by mid-August the three principal party support-
ers of Guided Democracy had indicated their serious reserva-
tions, and it therefore seemed that Soekarno1s drive must come
to a halt—unless force were to be used.The President's
^See Pos Indonesia and Sin Po, Aug. 14, 1958. See
also Suluh Indonesia, Aug. 28, for a statement by Saifuddin
Zuhri, NU secretary-general, that the party system was the best
basis of democracy. Zuhri also said that the NU could accept
Guided Democracy because it was in agreement with Islamic
teachings, but in nearly the same breath he stated that Guided
Democracy was not yet clear enough for NU members. "There is
not yet any clarification concerning the form of Guided Democ-
racy or how it will be put into effect." See also Pos Indone-
sia, Aug. 8, 1958.
102
Pos Indonesia, Aug. 16· Nusantara, Aug. 18 y Suluh
Indonesia, Aug. 14, 1958.
103
Pedoman, Aug. 8, 1958. The editorial, remarking
upon Gatot Mangkupradja's campaign for a staatspartij and upon
the reemergence of Partindo, noted that among the supporters
of Guided Democracy there was considerable difficulty. More-
over, parliamentary democracy being felt to have failed, the
supporters of Guided Democracy still did not feel that Guided
Democracy was satisfactory: what next? See also Sin Po, Aug.
8, noting that since the PNI, NU, and the PKI had come out
against abolition, clearly Guided Democracy would proceed by
way of simplification.
The anti-Soekarno press took this as a sign that Guided
Democracy had failed completely. Suara Rakjat, Aug. 20, 1958,
an editorial entitled, "A Failure." Only one or two parties
(Partindo and Murba, most importantly) had agreed to Guided214
August 17th speech/ in which he demanded a new election law, a
faster working Constituent Assembly, and the destruction of the
Decree of November 3, 1945—but left all this up to the parties--
encouraged the belief that he might wait, perhaps until the
next election, before carrying Guided Democracy to a higher
stage of development.The possibility of abolishing the
parties or creating a staatspartij, despite occasional new
scares, seemed to go by the board.105 in spite of the army's
frightening moves against the party system in August and Sep-
tember and the continual pressure of the pro-Soekarno press,
most parties relaxed slightly into talk about self-correction,
reform, and "further consideration" of Guided Democracy in Par-
liament and in the Konstituante. The moderate press did the
same, calling on the parties to reform now if they did not want
to be swallowed up later.
This euphoria lasted less than a month. Having started
the National Council in motion and finding it necessary contin-
ually to overtake Nasution's initiatives, Soekarno could not at
this juncture accept a stalemate. In his August 17th speech
he quoted the resolution of the army conference of early August
and all but openly warned the parties that if they balked change,
the army might not wait passively on the sidelines.Ιθθ
Democracy, said the paper, possibly out of considerations of
"right or wrong, Bung Karno." But the rest had rejected it.
Now, said Suara Rakjat, it is necessary to discuss whether the
Decree of Nov. 3, 1945, has to be torn up; it replied "No,"
for the parties had become part of the very flesh and blood of
the state.
104
Pedoman, Aug. 18, 1958. Soekarno1s speech excited
considerable discussion, especially with respect to the Decree
of Nov. 3. See A. Laksmi, "Antara Partai2 Politik dan Ideologi
Negara" (Between the Political Parties and State Ideology),
Mimbar Indonesia, XII, no. 34/35 (Aug. 27, 1958), 4-5, 8.
Laksmi, taking a very moderate view, called upon Soekarno to
stop blaming the parties entirely for national conditions. He
insisted that Soekarno must assume part of the blame for the
Decree of Nov. 3. In any case it was not the Decree alone, or
the parties alone, that were to blame, Laksmi wrote, but the
entire elite. Party leaders took the same view.
105
Vice-Premier Hardi assured Parliament on Sept. 2,
in the course of defending the National Council from attack,
that it had no intention of abolishing the parties. Indonesia
Raja, Sept. 3, 1958. Agrarian Minister Sunarjo (NU) said the
same thing in Medan shortly afterwards, pointing out that with-
out parties the government could never know what society was
doing and thinking. Pos Indonesia, Sept. 14, 1958.
106
Dari Proklamasi sampai Resopim, p. 375.215
In mid-September the President's forces resumed the
initiative against the parties by publicly raising new issues
in the debate. Little had yet been said openly about the
matters most central to the discussion in the National Council/
particularly concerning functional groups and a new Parliament.
The half-public/ half-secret character of the National Council
deliberations was for a while to everyone's advantage# for it
lent time for negotiations and compromise. By opening up the
files on Guided Democracy, however, Soekarno could catch the
parties off guard and help crystallize views within the National
Council itself. Thus on September 13th, before a conference
of Ministry of Information officials, Roeslan Abdulgani set
forth the whole of the National Council's discussions.107
Roeslan admitted that the National Council and the
cabinet had not yet made any decisions and that his comments
were by way of a problem-statement. The Ahem Committee report
was incorporated into the speech along with many of Soekarno's
comments in the National Council during June and July. After
discussing the philosophical and political bases of Guided
Democracy—that it was a democracy and not a dictatorship,
that it was founded on the Pantjasila, and that it demanded a
planned society and economy—Roeslan emphasized the need to
create a new non-liberal parliament to pass on future plans:
With [the assurance that] a National Planning Council will
soon be formed which must produce a socialist plan, the
National Council is now concentrating on the following
problems:
a.	How to obtain a new parliament which consists primarily
of functional groups, and
b.	How to obtain a new party system.
Roeslan then recounted the results of his conversations in
early August with Professor Djokosoetono on how to achieve the
goals of Guided Democracy, without, it was emphasized, violating
the Constitution.Ιθθ Here the idea of a national front was
brought out forcefully.
107
The conference was supposed to have been closed. The
speech was partially reported in Pos Indonesia, Sept. 15, 1958,
and a few other newspapers· within a week it received wide cov-
erage in several magazines. After it had caused an uproar, the
entire lecture was mimeographed and released by the National
Council offices with a covering statement by Roeslan, who said
that Soekarno agreed with the content of the speech and with
the way in which it was presented. The mimeographed text is
used here. See also Pesat, XIV, no. 38 (Sept. 20, 1958), 7-9.
108
Professor Djokosoetono played the important role
throughout the National Council discussions of providing justi-
fications, constitutional formulas, and scholarly background216
First· The 'moderate1 way» hy: a) making the prerequisite
conditions for existing as a party more difficult, h) making
the conditions for candidature more difficult. These would
be established by law.
Seconds The 'semi-radical' ways a) alongside the parties
a 'Front' could be formed, consisting of a combination of
functional groups, and it would be given the right to par-
ticipate in elections, b) the parties could still enter
candidates for election, but the conditions would be made
tougher. c) . . . the above-mentioned Front would also
enter candidates.
It would be best if 1) President Soekarno leads the
Front, 2) all parties supporting the Pantjasila decline to
run candidates on their own part, but voluntarily choose
instead to nominate via the Front.
Thirds The 'semi-radical plus' ways a) a Front would be
created and the parties left as is. b) but the sole right
to put up candidates in parliamentary elections would be
given to the Front. The parties would not be permitted to
put up candidates. President Bung Karno would lead the
Front.
materials for whatever the Council decided. He was for a while
a one man legislative reference service. In October 1957, he
had lectured to the National Council on functional representa-
tion and the shift of authority from the parties to Soekarno,
the latter point being one to which he gave continual emphasis.
Djokosoetono drew heavily on European and American scholarship,
but his personal views were very much characterized by a strong
Javanese philosophical and mystical bent. Many army officers
also came to the highly respected Djokosoetono to ask his help
in formulating their political views or developing a political
philosophy for the officer corps. It is possible that he had
something to do with working out the idea of the army's "middle-
way" enunciated by Nasution. Djokosoetono himself eschewed
direct political involvement of any kind.
109
According to Djokosoetono, in Western literature on
the subject the following could be included in a political par-
ties law: 1) prohibition of non-democratic parties; 2) a con-
dition that every party must work towards carrying out state
principles and not merely for material interests; 3) control
over party finances; 4) a condition that parties must be or-
ganized democratically; 5) regulation of candidature; 6) a rule
that only recognized parties might participate in elections
(p. 7 of mimeo text). Djokosoetono was instrumental in draft-
ing the political parties law in 1959.217
Fourth:	The 'radical' way: On the basis of a revolution-
ary situation and martial law . . along with the fact
that there has been a shift of authority towards the Presi-
dent/Commander—in—Chiefj President Bung Karno, a) could
directly dissolve Parliament and the parties (thus revers-
ing the Vice-Presidential Decree no. X of Oct. 16, 1945
and the Decree of Nov. 3, 1945); b) could directly form a
new Parliament consisting primarily of representatives of
functional groups (as, e.g., according to the procedure of
Government Regulation no. 6/1946 of Dec. 29, 1946).HO
Roeslan told the meeting that Soekarno had already chosen one
of these alternatives, based on "a balance between das Sein
and das Sollen.11 He declined to say which one, referring his
audience to the President's August 17th speech. It was in
fact the "semi-radical way"; but the threat of the most radical
approach was held over the parties' heads.Hl
Roeslan's speech hit the headlines almost immediately,
exciting a powerful reaction in Parliament, the press, and par-
ty circles. Taken by surprise, party leaders tried to counter
the impression that the National Council had already decided
Presidential Regulation 6/1946 provided for the
appointment of representatives of parties, regions, and "major
groups in society" to the Central Indonesian National Committee
(KNIP)—the legislative body. See Koesnodiprodjo, Himpunan,
vol. for 1946, pp. 146-147.
Obviously this "radical" alternative could not be con-
tained within the limits of constitutionalism, though Roeslan
(and Djokosoetono) claimed that in none of the four alterna-
tives were there any constitutional violations. In his talk
with Roeslan, Djokosoetono said, with respect to the radical
way, that it might be necessary to add the grounds of "return-
ing to the situation and spirit of August 17, 1945, and the
Constitution of 1945." But this comment by Djokosoetono was
not included in Roeslan1s lecture.
l^Roeslan went on deftly to answer all charges against
Guided Democracy, attributing them to anti-Pantjasila senti-
ments, PRRI sympathies, foreign attachments, or plain ignorance
He noted that Western press reactions, like those of the PRRI,
were opposed to Guided Democracy, and he quoted a mid-February
statement by Dulles that was contemptuous of Guided Democracy.
Fears and resentments of foreign influence and judgments were
used to good effect by the proponents of Guided Democracy.
Roeslan ended by saying that "We cannot retreat one bit before
. . . any opposition. For the Guided Democracy idea is an
extension of the Pantjasila idea. More than that, Guided
Democracy is one of the best means of guaranteeing a just and
prosperous society."218
112
upon its course and that no negotiations were possible.
Djuanda, evidently as taken aback as party leaders were, de-
clined to make a statement to Parliament on grounds that Roeslan
had spoken in his own name, not as vice-chairman of the National
Council.Roeslan himself reiterated that he had presented
only a personal analysis. The parties, however, were made
fully aware that they were not off the hook of Guided Democ-
racy; and the postponement of the elections a few days later
reinforced the impression that the party system was in fast
and disorganized retreat. Moreover, largely as a consequence
of Roeslan's talk, it was at this time that the public debate
on Guided Democracy reached its highest point, while the Na-
tional Council moved into the second phase of its discussions.
This debate, however, produced little that was new,
which is perhaps the most telling point to be made about it.
The pro-Guided Democracy press tended to offer its support al-
most wholly in anti-party, pro-Soekarno terms; and the parties,
fighting for their lives in a battle that was perceived as in-
volving power more than reason, contributed little more to a
thorough examination and defense of parliamentary democracy
than they had in 1956-1957.114 They offered nothing in the
112
Duta Masjarakat, Sept. 16, 1958, declared that as
the National Council's proposals were not yet official, there
was still room for other views on Guided Democracy. The NU
paper also suggested testily that Roeslan should have waited
until the National Council had come to definite conclusions
before making its discussions public.
113
Risalah Perundingan 1958, session of Sept. 19, p.
3471.
114
The parliamentary forum was hardly used by the par-
ties for this purpose. Rather, most MP's made piecemeal attacks
on proposals made by the National Council or Guided Democracy
supporters, with the result that parliamentary discussions of
political reform took on a highly negativist aspect. There were
only a few exceptions to this, frequently PKI members. One of
the better discussions of the issues posed by Guided Democracy
and the decline of parliamentary democracy was by Memet Tanumid-
jaja, a police official and parliamentary leader of the PPPRI,
an organization that was in fact more of a "functional group"
than a party. See Risalah Perundingan 1958, session of Nov.
28, pp. 4908-4913. Memet, like other party leaders, argued that
the parties performed an important leadership selection function
and that they served to exercise control over the national po-
litical elite, whose members would otherwise be on their own,
subject to no discipline. But Memet also went on to propose
definite reforms of the party system by Parliament—e.g., with
respect to party finances and the like. It is important to note
that Parliament at no time during this period tried to take the
initiative in revising the political system.219
way of positive alternatives to radical reform. As has been
mentioned, the parties, taking their cue from the National
Council, proposed simplification, but never in terms that hinted
of sincerity. To deflect the major challenge of Guided Democ-
racy to the party system, the PNI, for one, continued to suggest
that Soekarno take the leadership of a presidential cabinet.
In general the parties were intent upon maintaining the status
quo, decorated to some extent with promises of reform.
In their attack on functional groups, the parties were
joined by independent moderates. Besides the implicit threat
to the party system, it was feared that functional representa-
tion would lead to a copy of fascism.115 Party leaders argued
that functional interests in society were already adequately
represented by the parties, both within themselves and through
their subsidiary labor, peasant, student, and other organiza-
tions. Much more to the point, some reasoned sharply that
functional groups no less than parties would reflect political
differences, for they enjoyed no intrinsic consensus? the mere
displacement of parties by functional groups could not there-
fore guarantee the greater stability and reduced conflict pro-
mised by Soekarno.Ιΐθ But it was difficult to debate the
issues posed by functional representation, for it became in-
creasingly apparent that the idea had not been developed much
further since 1957, when it appeared as a simple alternative
to the party system. In 1958 it was still uncertain precisely
what constituted functional groups and how they were to be
organized. H7
The "front" conception was attacked on similar grounds.
The point made with greatest force was that a political system
without parties or one based essentially on a single legiti-
mate party, whatever it was called, would be a dictatorship.11θ
Soekarno denied this time and again, and proponents of Guided
^Cf. Achmadi in Karya Sumbangsih, p. 13, where he
agreed that the functional representation idea reflected a
European background but argued that its application in Indone-
sia had altogether different purposes, primarily to seek out
the unity which ideological representation had prevented.
See Harian Umum, Sept. 16, Oct. 10, 1958.
117
See A. Laksmi's article in Mimbar Indonesia, XII,
no, 39 (Sept. 27, 1958), 3-4, the best piece on Roeslan's speech
and the issues it raised. Laksmi (a pseudonym), a keen and
usually profound political analyst, was deeply skeptical about
the development of Guided Democracy, questioning whether enough
thinking had been done about such basic issues as the meaning
of the Pantjasila and the role of functional groups.
118
See, for example, Harian Umum, Sept. 17, 1958.220
Democracy prefaced their discussions with the comment that it
was democracy, not dictatorship. It was also argued by the
antagonists of the National Council that a front led by Soekarno
would inevitably depend entirely upon Soekarno. Some in the
intellectual elite were openly doubtful on precisely these
grounds, fearing that Soekarno1s immensely powerful personal
hold on the nation would lead to a political structure in which
he would be the keystone. The Ahem Committee's point, repeated
by Roeslan, that Soekarno's personal authority must be made
full use of in attaining Guided Democracy, reinforced these
fears. Skeptical observers asked what would happen when Soe-
karno was no more; would Guided Democracy also then cease to
exist?H9 But this was decidedly a minority view. The more
common one was that Soekarno must assume full leadership. The
nationalist weekly Pesat called for Soekarno to take upon him-
self the leadership of the revolution and to play in Indonesia
the role filled by state parties in the Soviet Union and other
people's democracies.120
The National Council: Second Phase
During October and November the National Council moved
quickly towards formulating its deliberations into definite
proposals to the cabinet. The speed of the process was due in
part to pressure from army leaders and to the anxiety felt by
many on the council as a result of the coup scare. It also
sprang, however, from the desire of Soekarno and his supporters
on the council, as well as Nasution, to take advantage of the
momentum built up against party government. Possibly the fact
that Djuanda was abroad during much of October had something
to do with both the character of the National Council proposals
and the rapidity with which Soekarno forced a Council decision
upon them· when Djuanda returned at the end of October, he was
faced with a fait accompli, though it is by no means certain
that he could have headed it off had he remained in Djakarta.
In late August or early September the Ahem Committee
was replaced by a new ad hoc committee on Guided Democracy
under the chairmanship of Tumakaka.121 Its task was to consider
119
Laksmi, cited supra, n. 117, p. 3· Surabaja Post,
Sept. 16, 1958.
120
"Juti" (Sajuti), part IV of a series on Guided Democ-
racy, Pesat, XIV, no. 34 (Aug. 23, 1958), 11-12, and the same
journal, no. 37 (Sept. 13, 1958), p. 4.
121
Among the members of the Tumakaka committee were Iwa
Kusumasumantri, Baramuli, Sugriwa, Tjan Tju Som, Nja Diwan,
Sitor Situmorang (PNI, a recent appointee to the Council to
represent artists), Ahem, Munir, Fatah Jasin, Moh. Padang,
Rangkaju Rasuna Said, and Trimurti. Pos Indonesia, Sept. 19,
1958.221
1) simplification of the party system, and 2) improvement of
the system of representation.122 under this latter rubric,
the chief interest focussed on how to form a new parliament
based primarily on functional groups. The question of creating
a new national front was also under consideration.
Like the Ahem Committee, the Tumakaka Committee was
unable to deliver a unanimous report to the National Council
plenum. Party representatives, in a disadvantageous bargaining
position and faced by an unmistakable threat, would not go
along with the proposals. The Committee agreed that a share
of Parliament's seats should be given to functional groups,
but the alarming demand of the anti-party group was that that
share be 50 per cent. Party exponents refused to acquiesce in
more than 33 1/3 per cent. Similarly, on the national front
issue, the anti-party group insisted that the front be led
directly by Soekarno and that the parties not be allowed to
participate in it. The parties, perceiving that a national
front led by Soekarno would soon push them entirely out of the
political picture, argued that they must have a role in the
front. These were the substantial questions brought before
the National Council at its session of October 21st, 22nd, and
23rd.
For the first and only time in its short history, the
National Council took a vote, putting aside the consensus-
seeking musjawarah-mufakat procedure; it was obvious that
otherwise no decision would be taken, for the interests at
stake were too great. With the armed forces' representatives,
particularly Nasution, pushing hardest for functional groups,
the Council voted approximately 25 to 8 in favor of functional
groups making up 50 per cent of Parliament. The same vote
favored excluding parties from the national front. Thus the
October session of the National Council produced the following
proposals to be sent to the cabinet for actions 123
Firsts The matters which must be included in a politi-
cal parties law are as followss
a) Parties are agencies of democracy in the form of organi-
zations of Indonesian citizens according to political
ideologies, whose purpose is to support and defend the
Unitary Republic of Indonesia and to work for the ideals
of the Indonesian people towards a just and prosperous
122
See Roeslan's speech of September 13 and his speech
in Seminar Pantjasila, pp. 150-151; also Ministry of Informa-
tion, Dua Tahun Kabinet Karya (Two Years of the Kabinet Karya;
Djakarta, 1959), pp. 752-755.
123
See Roeslan, in Seminar Pantjasila, pp. 151-152.222
society, based on the Proclamation of Independence of
August 17, 1945.
b)	Functional groups are agencies of democracy in the form
of organizations of Indonesian citizens according to
their function in production and social services, which
contribute to the development of a just and prosperous
society based on the ideals of the Indonesian people [as
expressed] in the Proclamation of Independence of
August 17, 1945.
c)	The National Front is an agency of democracy in the form
of an organization that mobilizes national potential for
the purpose of collectively striving after the just and
prosperous society in accord with the ideals of the In-
donesian people and the goals of the Unitary State of
the Republic of Indonesia.
Second:	Changes which must be incorporated in a new
Elections Law are, inter alia:
a)	One half of the total membership of the next Parliament
will represent functional groups of the Indonesian
People.
b)	Candidacy of functional groups will be via the National
Front, which will be led by the President.
c)	Conditions of candidacy will be made more demanding.
d)	The method of election will be based on a double-choice
system? that is, the voter will vote once for a party
symbol and once again for a functional group symbol.
The objective of this program was to recognize the par-
ties only as a transitional element that would soon fade out
of the political system. In the next national elections, the
parties would already have lost control of the Parliament to
functional groups. The functional groups' independence from
political party influence would be assured by: 1) their sepa-
rate election, and 2) their organization within the National
Front, which would enjoy the prestige of Soekarno's leadership.
Functional group candidates would be chosen by Soekarno him-
self. Thus the parties would be forced to engage in a compe-
tition which they could not hope to win. Eventually the Na-
tional Front would develop into a nationwide mass organization
on the radical nationalist left, absorbing the support once
given to political parties. It would then become the single
legitimate political organization in the country, performing
the major functions of political tutelage and mobilization.
Soekarno's role in this reorganized system would
clearly be much greater than any he had previously played, but223
124
it fitted his view of what that role should be.	He would
guide the government, select its leaders, and offer new ideas,
but he would not assume a position of daily administrative re-
sponsibility. Nor would he occupy a position of constitutional
responsibility· that would be assumed by a cabinet chosen by
him and supported by a Parliament also subject to his influ-
ence. No attempt will be made here to discuss the constitu-
tional uncertainties implicit in this, because in fact it did
not work out quite that way. But it is important to make the
general point that the National Council proposals of October
visualized a monolithic political system in which Soekarno
would provide the chief inspiration and legitimation.
For Soekarno, the major problem posed by the National
Front concept in 1958 was that army leaders might seize control
of it by way of the FNPIB, which Nasution hoped would be the
basis of any future National Front. Increasingly since June
he had concentrated on developing it into a more effective
counterpoise to the parties and an incipient mass mobilization
organization. In late September Nasution issued a directive
declaring the FNPIB to be the only legitimate mass organization
and stating its functions to be, in particular, to restore
West Irian to Indonesia and, in general, to complete the revo-
lution. 125 The organization itself was revised to bring the
124
See Kahin, Major Governments, p. 640, n. 4. Soekarno
told Kahin in March 1959 that "Under the new system I will have
to carry a great deal more weight upon my shoulders." By
March the decision had been taken to restore the 1945 Constitu-
tion, and Soekarno was referring partly to the fact that he
would have to assume the constitutional duties of president.
But much of the National Council's earlier program still ob-
tained, especially with respect to the National Front, of which
Soekarno said that "to lead the National Front will require
much work and energy from me." See also the rest of Kahin's
discussion of Soekarno's views, pp. 636-640.
125
Pos Indonesia, Sept. 29, 1958. Various instructions
were issued during the year by Nasution to clarify the connec-
tion between the FNPIB, the civil-military co-operation bodies,
and national and regional army commanders. Pos Indonesia, Oct.
25, 1958. See also Ministry of State for Civil-Military Coop-
eration Affairs, Karya Kerdja Sama Sipil Mlllter (Civil-Mili-
tary Cooperation: Djakarta, 1959). Brig. Gen. Moestopo was
Secretary-General of the FNPIB until November, when he was re-
placed by Lt. Col. Achmadi (Pos Indonesia, Nov. 22, 1958).
Achmadi, former leader of the revolutionary "student army"
(tentara peladjar) and one -of the radical young men whom
Soekarno was sponsoring, was quite close to Soekarno, who may
have been instrumental in his appointment as FNPIB secretary-
general.224
12 6
civil-military cooperation bodies under tighter control.
Nasution's efforts to improve the FNPIB did not meet with
noticeable success, however, largely because of tacit opposi-
tion from both the parties and Soekarno. Despite its expansion
into the lower levels of regional government and the formation
of new civil-military cooperation bodies, outside of Djakarta
the FNPIB remained loosely structured and organizationally non-
descript. Its regional officer leaders were sometimes politi-
cally incompetent and sometimes corrupt, and above all they
seem not to have understood fully the purpose of the organiza-
tion or how it could be directed to political ends. These
deficiencies made it possible for Soekarno to elude army pres-
sure for the FNPIB to be used as the National Front. It could
also be argued that the FNPIB already had a narrowly defined
function—with respect to West Irian—and that therefore a
much broader and differently organized front was necessary.
Nasution lost out on this question, and the National Council
emphatically stated in November that the future National Front
would be a new one.
On the issue of functional representation, however,
Nasution made rapid progress. This, indeed, was the focus of
his attention, for, in the development of Guided Democracy, it
was this issue which would most clearly determine the outcome
of the clash of interests between the army and the political
parties. Not only were functional groups intended to displace
the parties, but moreover functional representation was the
only plausible concept that would permit the legitimate parti-
cipation of the officer corps in the government. Just when the
military won the status of functional group is not clear, but
the process illustrates the basic evolutionary theme of the
army's political development. For neither in 1945, when a kind
of functional group concept was first introduced into the con-
stitution, nor in 1957, when Soekarno revived the concept, were
12 6
In mid-1958, the FNPIB had seven civil-military
cooperation bodies organized under it: youth, women, labor,
peasants, religious leaders (ulama), and two special bodies,
one of them connected entirely with the Veterans' Legion. More
were organized in 1959. Only the civil-military cooperation
bodies were permitted as constituent members of the FNPIB, and
it is clear that they were regarded by Nasution and others as
potential organizations of the functional groups. See Pos
Indonesia, Aug. 5, 1958. In the reorganization of the FNPIB
in mid-1958, an honorary council was established which included
Soekarno, as Chairman, Roeslan, Sudibjo, Chaerul Saleh, and
Wahib Wahab. Neither Roeslan nor Chaerul was appreciated in
army leadership circles; their appointments are evidence of
Soekarno's constant attempt to increase his influence within
the organization.225
127
the armed forces considered a functional group.	They were
regarded as being properly outside of the political arena, sub-
ject to the will of civilian government? and though some lead-
ers had come to recognize that it was impossible to deny the
political interests of the army, many more still would not
agree to the military enjoying the right of political partici-
pation. 128 it was to this lingering view that Nasution ad-
dressed himself in November at the National Military Academy.
Nasution's basic demands in the National Council were
that the army must be recognized as a functional group, but un-
like other functional groups its representatives would be ap-
pointed, not elected, and the army as a whole would be disen-
franchised. The point of this, as has been mentioned, was to
give the army a responsible role while eliminating politically
unstabilizing influences on it. Soekarno agreed with Nasution
on this issue, for it would be far safer to have the army
represented in the Government, where it could be controlled,
than to attempt to keep it in the barracks, from which it might
well burst out violently with disastrous consequences for the
state.129 There was opposition in the National Council, how-
ever, against granting the army functional group status, though
by mid-1958 the press was already beginning to refer to the
military as a functional group.1^0 The National Council session
127
In the 1945 Constitution, article 2 provides that
the People's Consultative Assembly, the highest constitutional
body, will consist of the members of Parliament, representatives
of the regions, and "groups which shall be determined by law."
Those who saw in the 1945 Constitution a basis for functional
representation looked to this article. The clarification of
the 1945 Constitution stated that "What are called 'groups' are
such bodies as cooperatives, labor unions and other collective
bodies,"—in other words, economic organizations. The military
was not included in this understanding. See Moh. Yamin, Naskah
Perslapan Undang-Undang Dasar 1945 (Documents on the Preparation of
the 1945 Constitution? Djakarta: Jajasan Prapantja, 1959), I, 40.
128
For a clear statement of the view opposing an army
that would be active in politics, see Prime Minister Ali Sastro-
amidjojo's reply to questions in Parliament on the regional
crisis on February 4, 1957, IP/1957, pp. 84-85.
129
To put this another way—as suggested to me by Prof.
Kahin—Soekarno sought to bring the army into the structure of
the government for the reason that its representation in the
government would necessarily be far less than the extent of
its actual power.
130Sikap (PSI), XI, no. 19 (July 31, 1958), 1, mentions
the military as a functional group along with labor, peasants,
youth, women, and intellectuals, in connection with devising a
new election law.226
of October did not specify which functional groups would be
formally represented in Parliament, and it may be that a major
reason for this was the problem of Nasution's demands. But the
coup scares of October and November worked to the army's bar-
gaining advantage, and Nasution's middle-way speech in mid-
November put the issue squarely before the Council and the
political parties: either the army's officers must be given
an opportunity to take part in the government, or they might
be forced to seize that opportunity.
The party response to Nasution's proposals was ambiva-
lent. On the one hand, the parties breathed a sigh of relief
that nothing worse was in store.131 on the other, they regarded
the middle-way notion as another major challenge to the party
system; for by formally entering the political arena, the army
threatened to squeeze the parties out. The PKI, having most
to fear from an expansion of the army's role, was the party
most hostile to Nasution's ideas. After expressing its satis-
faction that there would be no coup, the PKI quickly suggested
numerous reservations about greater political participation by
the army. Thus the Communist press insisted that if--despite
their reluctance—the army's representation in the government
were to be enlarged, it should be on the same basis as other
functional groups, that is by election and not appointment.
Harian Rakjat also issued a reminder, in an effort to de-empha-
size the role of the army, that the latter was only one part
of the armed forces.132
^See Abadi, Nov. 15; Suluh Indonesia, Nov. 17, 1958.
Suluh Indonesia's (PNI) initial reaction to Nasution's middle-
way speech was one of full support. The Indonesian national
identity, it said, made the middle-way acceptable. Both civil
and military leaders being children of the revolution, both
could participate in the government. This daily repeated its
frequent admonition not to look to events abroad and declared
that military juntas do no good.
Harian Rakjat, Nov. 14, 17, 1958. The PKI observed
that the middle-way was not really new; the Chiefs-of-Staff
were in the National Council, Suprajogi was in the cabinet, and
in Parliament and the Constituent Assembly the army was repre-
sented by some members of IPKI. Harian Rakjat suggested that
the middle-way meant that various groups ought not to inter-
fere in one another's jurisdictions—e.g., the military ought
to stick to the military field and stop getting involved in
politics and trade, just as politicians should not interfere
in military affairs. The PKI also suggested that the partici-
pation of military leaders in the political life of the nation
might be limited to their presence in the highest bodies of
the government—implying that they should not have a vote,
however, See also Republik, the Baperki daily, for Nov. 14,227
When the National Council session of November 21st-23rd
finally agreed on a list of functional groups, the armed forces
were among them. The list was as follows:
1.	Labor/Officials
2.	Peasantry
3.	National Businessmen
4.	Armed Forces
a.	Army	c.
b.	Navy	d.
5.	Religious leaders
a.	Islamic	c.
b.	Protestant	d.
6.	Generation of the Proclamation
7.	(Other) groups
a.	Intellectuals	e.
b.	Teachers and	educators f.
c.	Artists	g.
d.	Journalists	h.
Air Force
Veterans, OPR, and OKD3
Catholic
Hindu-Bali
of August 17, 1945
Regions
Youth
Women
Citizens of foreign descent
It will be noticed that these functional groups were,
with two minor exceptions, the same ones that were represented
in the National Council.134 The major difference was that in
1957 the armed forces representatives had been appointed ex-
officio (the chiefs-of-staff) rather than in recognition of
the military as a functional group.
1958, which to some extent followed Harian Rakjat's position.
If the PKI was most hostile to the prospect of greater
military participation in the government, conversely, the
right-wing was most favorable, and the acquiescence of the
PNI and NU was due not only to their concern to avoid a coup
but also to their willingness to rely on the army to keep the
PKI at bay. However, army leaders encountered some opposition
among older leaders of the PNI and NU to a greater role for
the army.
133
The OPR (Organisasi Pertahanan Rakjat, People's
Defense Organization) and OKD (Organisasi Keamanan Desa, Vil-
lage Security Organization) were voluntary uniformed para-
military organizations under army control. In the National
Council the army was challenged over the question of its right
to represent the veterans. It is probably for this reason
that the veterans constitute a separate category of represen-
tation.
134
The ex-armed fighters category in the National
Council was not included in this list, but intellectuals, who
were not formally represented in the National Council, were
constituted as a new group.228
Nasution went a step further in demanding a sizeable
representation for the military functional group. According
to the National Council plan, 50 per cent of the next Parlia-
ment would consist of functional groups· of this proportion
Nasution requested 50 per cent for the armed forces, or in
other words 25 per cent of the Parliament. This was a matter
for negotiation, however, both with the parties and within the
National Council, and Nasution agreed in early 1959 to take a
rather smaller quota of 35 seats in a Parliament of approxi-
mately 260. The army, of course, would receive the largest
share of the military representation.
The National Council proposals of October and November
were presented to the cabinet, where they were received, under-
standably, with some shock. Neither the party leaders nor
Djuanda—who had already warned of the impossibility of the
Government asking Parliament to work against its own interests-
could accept the proposals. Djuanda may have offered his resig
nation to the President at this time, but, if so, Soekarno
would not accept it. At the end of November Djuanda announced
that the cabinet, the President, and the National Council would
hold a frank discussion—an "Open Talk," as it was promptly
labelled—of the Council's proposals on Guided Democracy.1*5
The first meeting was held on December 5th, making little head-
way; and two more were held in January, following state visits
by Marshal Tito and President Prasad. The results of the
Open Talks will be discussed in the next chapter. The last
few pages of this chapter will deal with the party response in
late 1958 to the threat of Guided Democracy. The major parties
were unanimously opposed to the National Council proposals,
but they remained at odds on nearly everything else. Divided
they were to fall.
Indeed, each party was not so much defending the polit-
ical system which sustained it as trying to protect its own
position in whatever system happened to emerge. To repeat a
point already made in the last chapter, the leaders of the PNI
and NU were seeking a comfortable niche in the new power struc-
ture, while the PKI was trying to maintain some basis of inde-
pendent power from which to continue its growth; and Masjumi,
having nothing to gain from any developments in existing cir-
cumstances, was very much at sea. The minor parties were dis-
tributed over this spectrum of big party positions, having no
significant say in the politics of Guided Democracy, yet un-
happily dependent upon whatever solution the major parties
worked out with the anti-party forces.
The postponement of the elections in September and the
coup scare of October-November decided the PKI upon accepting
135
See Pos Indonesia, Nov. 11, 27, 29; Nusantara, Nov.
28; Merdeka, Nov. 29; Republik, Nov. 28, Dec. 4, 1958.229
part of the National Council program while pushing closer to
Soekarno. At the 7th plenum of the CCPKI on November 19th-
21st, Aidit stated that:
the leadership in executing the Guided Democracy idea must
rest with President Soekarno, as the originator of the
Guided Democracy idea and of the President's Konsepsi, and
as a democrat whose courage was tested when he rejected
the militarists' attempt to make him a dictator in the
17 October 1952 Affair. As a consequence of this view,
the President must be given the extraordinary right accord-
ing to democratic procedures and according to law to fill
part of the Parliament with patriots who have won the faith
of the people.136
The PKI thus pinned its hopes for the evolving political system
not only on Soekarno's ability to control the army but also on
the likelihood that he would rely on the left-wing for support.
The hopes of Masjumi, on the other hand, were pinned
on less realistic objectives. Some Masjumi leaders of the
Sukiman-Wibisono group were convinced that both the party and
Islam faced a double threat, from Guided Democracy and Commun-
ism, which could be overcome only with a drastically revised
political approach. Wibisono argued in October that the long
term strategy of the Islamic parties must be based on the
136
"Bersatu Menempuh Djalan Demokrasi Terpimpin Menadju
Pelaksanaan Konsepsi Presiden Sukarno 100%" (With Unity Tread
the Path of Guided Democracy towards a 100% Implementation of
the President's Konsepsi), Aidit's report to the seventh plenum
of the CCPKI, in his Pilihan Tulisan (Selected Writings? Dja-
karta: Jajasan "Pembaruan," 1959-1960), II, 526-556, at pp.
548-550. In this report considerable attention is paid to the
foreign coups, the possibility of a coup in Indonesia, and the
threat of the army generally. The October 17th Affair, it will
be remembered, was the attempt of a group of officers led by
Nasution to force Soekarno to assume greater executive power
vis-a-vis Parliament.
In October Aidit said the PKI supported Guided Democ-
racy because it was anti-military dictatorship, anti-personal
dictatorship, and anti-liberalism. See "Mendukung Demokrasi
Terpimpin adalah politik jang paling revolusioner" (To Support
Guided Democracy is the most revolutionary policy), statement
of October 24, 1958, Pilihan Tulisan, II, 518-522, at p. 520.
PKI, NU, and PNI leaders were all made distinctly uncomfort-
able during these months by criticism of the hypocritical
positions they were compelled to take with respect to Guided
Democracy. The PKI was the only major party to go beyond the
usual statement of "Of course we accept Guided Democracy fully,
but. ..." See also Sin Po, Oct. 13, 25, 1958.230
assumption that there would he no radical change in the compara-
tive strength of Islamic and secular groups during the next
decade. Therefore, he proposed, the Islamic parties should
form a Democratic Front with the nationalist parties against
Communism, accepting the Pantjasila as the state ideology.
Meanwhile, Islamic groups should study the conditions of soci-
ety and adjust themselves to the national stage of develop-
ment. 137 This, of course, was the strategy which the PKI had
successfully employed, but it was too late for Masjumi to do
the same. Moreover, a majority of Masjumi's leadership was
not amenable to this kind of reasoning.
At the same time, in October and November, Masjumi
leaders of both wings proposed the formation of a new cabinet—
one in which Masjumi would be happy to serve--capable of deal-
ing with national economic and political problems.138 This
caused a considerable stir. The PNI and NU immediately rushed
to the defense of the Kabinet Karya. Masjumi accused these
parties of being influenced by the PKI in their opposition to
a cabinet revision, but the fact of the matter was that the
PNI and NU were in constant fear of losing their holds in the
Government. Wahab Chasbullah (NU) put the case best for both
parties. Rejecting Sukiman's proposal of a new cabinet and
the PKI's demand for a four-legged-horse cabinet based on the
President's Konsepsi, Wahab said that the best cabinet was
like a two-legged man, with the PNI and NU as its core repre-
senting the major political trends, Religion and Nationalism.139
A Duta Masjarakat editorial added that it would be best not to
think of the Konsepsi or a new cabinet but rather to try to
try to open the way for Guided Democracy, and this would best
be done by the Constituent Assembly—which was to ask for the
best of all worlds.140
137
See Pos Indonesia, Sept. 27, Oct. 5, 1958.
138
Pemuda, Oct. 17? Pos Indonesia, Nov. 8? Nusantara,
Nov. 10, 1958. See also Pesat, XIV, no. 43 (Oct. 25, 1958),
3-4. Pesat admonished Masjumi to clean up its own backyard be-
fore trying to clean up the nation. The magazine also called
upon Sukiman—who was regarded with much more favor than the
Prawoto group by older generation PNI and NU leaders—to assume
the leadership of his party and bring it back to the proper
rails of Indonesian political life.
139
Abadi, Dec. 3, 1958. Wahib Wahab stated that only
if Masjumi supported the cabinet policy on the rebellion and,
emphatically, if it agreed that the Kabinet Karya was consti-
tutional, would the door be open for it to join the cabinet.
Zainul Arifin said flatly that cabinets should not be changed
in mid-stream. See also Pos Indonesia, Oct. 18? Nusantara,
Oct. 20, 1958.
140
Duta Masjarakat, Dec. 8, 1958.231
The PNI's position was not noticeably different. But
caught as usual between Soekarno and a divided assessment of
party interests, the PNI was under intense pressure to come
out strongly for Guided Democracy as interpreted by Soekarno.
Supporters of the President accused the PNI of having left the
revolutionary rails and warned that without Soekarno the party
would disintegrate into insignificance.141 on November 1st
and 2nd the PNI executive council met to discuss the National
Council's proposals of October. It was unable to offer more
than pro-forma support of the "principles" of Guided Democracy
and declared that it was necessary to think further about the
matter.142
To meet the vociferous criticism of the pro-Soekarno
press following this party conference, and in an attempt to
head off the National Council's onslaught, the PNI suddenly
leapt to an interesting but belated and hopelessly ill-conceived
initiative. On November 25th, following discussions with
Roeslan and Djuanda, Suwirjo announced, with suitable fanfare,
the creation of a new Front Pantjasila. Its purpose was to
save the state from attempts to subvert it, such as the Madiun
rebellion and the PRRI, and from efforts to pull Indonesia
towards one bloc or another. The Front Pantjasila would in-
clude all groups truly dedicated to the Proclamation of August
1945, said Suwirjo, and it would thus form a strong basis for
carrying out Guided Democracy. Such evils as political "cow-
trading" would be eliminated, because every cabinet would
henceforth consist only of true followers of the Pantjasila.143
141
The daily Pemuda carried on an incessant drumbeat
of vituperation against the PNI during these months, insisting
that the party must attach itself to Soekarno. It accused the
PNI of having lost its dynamism since the deaths of Sidik Djojo-
sukarto and Mangunsarkoro. See Pemuda, Nov. 1, 1958.
142
See Suluh Indonesia, Nov. 4, 21? Pemuda, Nov. 4, 22,
1958, for an exchange concerning the PNI's stand. Pemuda
pointed out that while the PKI was beginning to give support
to Soekarno, the nationalist group kept quiet in a thousand
different languages.
143
Pos Indonesia, Nov. 26, 1958, Pesat, XIV, no. 49
(Dec. 6, 1958), 3-4, 12, and same, no. 50 (Dec. 13, 1958), pp.
3-4. A. Laksmi, "Sekitar Pembentukan Front Pantjasila" (On the
Formation of the Front Pantjasila), in Mimbar Indonesia, XII,
no. 49 (Dec. 6, 1958), 3-4, 18. Initially, some optimism was
expressed about the potentiality of the Front Pantjasila, pri-
marily by groups which hoped that this might be a way of eluding
the proposals of the National Council, but the optimism faded
quickly.
In his announcement of the Front, Suwirjo said that he
would soon contact the leaders of the FNPIB to hold discussions
about the new organization. It was clear, however, that he had
not discussed the idea with the other parties.232
This suggestion obviously represented a blind rush by
the PNI to grasp a central position in the Government and to
circumvent the threat of Guided Democracy by co-opting the
function of the National Front proposed by the National Coun-
cil.144 it was doomed to failure from the beginning. The PNI
had neither the energy nor the support to develop such a front.
Army leaders, having little respect for many older PNI leaders,
were not impressed and offered no assistance from the FNPIB.
Moreover, if the Front idea were to have any hope of success,
it must incorporate the other major parties on the premise
that this was their only chance to undercut the challenge of
the National Council. But every other party correctly judged
that the PNI had chosen to grasp all the profits for itself.
The PKI warned the PNI that its Front Pantjasila could not suc-
ceed without the support of the fifteen million voters repre-
sented by the PKI and NU; and it accused the PNI of wanting to
establish another Front Anti-Komunis.!45
jected the Front Pantjasila immediately,
condone the proposal that the Government should be chosen from
men who were "truly of the Pantjasila spirit," and instead
Wahab Chasbullah launched an attack on the Pantjasila.!46 Re-
garded by nearly everyone as essentially a Front PNI, the Front
Pantjasila drew no support, and within a few weeks the idea
faded completely from the scene.
NU leaders also re-
for they could hardly
Before fading, however, the Front Pantjasila proposal
helped to negate any hope of achieving an ideological compromise
144
In Roeslan's speech of September 13, he mentioned
the possibility of a Front consisting of a party or combination
of parties dedicated to the Pantjasila. This was the likely
origin of the Front Pantjasila idea. It is not clear what Soe-
karno thought of the effort, but if he was not skeptical from
the start, he undoubtedly became so once it was clear that the
Front Pantjasila had little backing outside of the PNI.
145
Harian Rakjat, Dec. 4, 1958. The Front Anti-Komunis
(FAK), was an ineffective organization led by Isa Anshary, the
West Javanese Masjumi leader. Aidit also warned that the Front
Pantjasila would only discredit the PNI if it became a minority
organization.
146
Pedoman, Dec. 1, 1958. See also Duta Masjarakat,
Dec. 11; Pemuda, Dec. 11, 1958. Pemuda, repeating a comment
by Gatot Mangkupradja that the Front would at most become a
weak federation because the PNI had not contacted other parties
first, noted also that the Front could not succeed as a PNI or-
ganization because many men no longer wanted to admit they were
PNI members. The PNI tried unsuccessfully to defend itself
against the accusation that it wanted to run the whole show
alone. See Suluh Indonesia, Dec. 10, 1958.233
The Constituent Assembly was in any case encountering increas-
ing difficulties in its deliberations during late 1958, largely
because the issues of Guided Democracy were continually in-
truding themselves in the committee discussions. But the ques-
tion of ideology remained the chief stumbling block. Compro-
mise efforts became somewhat more sedulous in the anti-party
atmosphere of late 1958, however, for it became clearer that
a successful Konstituante was imperative in the interest of
saving the party system. NU leaders especially were anxious
to find a compromise. In October, K. Masjkur, the NU Konsti-
tuante leader, announced that the NU would propose a formula
for bringing Islam and the Pantjasila together.147 on October
15th this formula was introduced to the Konstituante session:
it was called "Pantjasila-Islam," without any further clarifi-
cation. The NU advocated this solution fervently until Suwirjo
announced the ill-fated Front Pantjasila. Startled and angered
by what appeared to be a PNI effort to push them aside, NU
leaders rapidly retreated to a stand of solidarity on Islam
with the other Islamic parties. Masjumi hailed this as proof
that the Pantjasila-Islam notion was not a matter of principle
for NU; and to confirm NU's new position, the Masjumi press
published statements by Wahab Chasbullah and Idham Chalid from
as early as 1955 showing their dedication to Islam as the
essential corrective to the Pantjasila as the state ideology.148
Meanwhile the PSII called a meeting of the Islamic parties to
take their stand on the ideology question before the Konstitu-
ante, and NU reluctantly accepted.
All this made some contribution to one accomplishment
in the Assembly on the ideology problem. On December 11th,
the parties supporting the Pantjasila withdrew their various
proposals (seven in all) on the constitutional preamble and
united behind a single proposal: the preamble of the Consti-
tution of 1945.149 The Islamic parties decided to follow suit,
introducing in mid-January a united proposal for an Islamic
preamble.l50 Thus ideological lines were drawn firmly and with
147
Pos Indonesia, Oct. 10, 1958.
148Abadi, Dec. 12, 1958.
149
The preamble of the 1945 Constitution is included
in the Appendix following Chapter VI.
150
The preamble proposal put forward by the Islamic
parties read as follows:
"Whereas: The Independence of every people and their
right of self-determination is the teaching of Islam, therefore
colonialism in any form must be eliminated from the face of
the earth.
"Whereas:	In the struggle for Indonesian independence234
less chance of a compromise, for never before had the parties
united completely within their own camps.
Two or three points should be made about this develop-
ment. First, in their divided state the parties were not pre-
pared—and never had been—to confront Soekarno and the National
Council in an all-out defense of the parliamentary system.
Second, the ideological conflict between the parties in the
Constituent Assembly came to a head precisely when the ideolog-
ically-based party system was threatened with annihilation by
the demands of Guided Democracy. Unable to give promise of a
permanent constitution in the near future, the parties yet
again demonstrated their ineffectiveness.
Finally, the facing-off of the Pantjasila and Islamic
groups in the Constituent Assembly symbolized the last stand
of Islam as an organized political force in independent Indo-
nesia against the triumphant forces of nationalist secularism.
For the attack of Guided Democracy on the ideological party
system was also an attack on Islamic ideology, which after a
few years of apparent strength was succumbing to the real
strength of other trends.
Islam has been the primary stimulus of the Indonesian people.
"Whereas: The Indonesian nation, the major part of
which belongs to the Islamic community (ummat), has always been
united in that struggle for independence. Praised be to God,
by the Grace and Mercy of Almighty God the independence of In-
donesia was proclaimed on 17 August 1945. To make that inde-
pendence secure, we the people of Indonesia are resolved to
establish the state of Indonesia as a sovereign Republic based
on Islam.
"In this, we the people of Indonesia do maintain a
state based on the rule of law, which guarantees Justice and
prosperity for the whole people, and holds high the principles
of mankind in the relations of all nations.
"To this end, we the people of Indonesia do accept and
promulgate this constitution. ..."
For original text, see Ministry of Information, special issue
48, Kembali ke Undang-Undang Dasar 1945 (The Return to the
Constitution of 1945), Appendix XIII.235
CHAPTER VI
THE DRIVE TO GUIDED DEMOCRACY (II)
What little bargaining power the parties had in their
negotiations with the National Council derived primarily from
two factors. First, Soekarno did not want to resort to a bla-
tantly unconstitutional solution; he preferred a decision that
had the appearance of unanimity. Second, Soekarno was unwill-
ing to resort to force, because in doing so he must rely upon
the army, and at this stage he did not want to reduce the par-
ties' strength so greatly that he would have no effective
assistance in controlling the army. But there was no question
of Soekarno's abandoning the drive against the party system;
even if he were inclined to do so, army leaders would not per-
mit a relaxation of the conflict. As for the parties, they
would not surrender to the National Council without some guar-
antee of their survival. The result was a compromise, though
one of little advantage to the party system. This initial
settlement of the parties-National Council conflict was accom-
panied by the formal conclusion of the ideological debate in
the Constituent Assembly.
This concluding chapter will deal with the Open Talks,
the Constituent Assembly debates that followed, and the restor-
ation of the 1945 Constitution.
The Open Talks and the Decision
to Return to 1945
On November 7, 1958, the cabinet decided that it must
agree to the introduction of functional groups into Parliament.
This was reported to Soekarno in the first Open Talk on Decem-
ber 5th; there was no further agreement, however, except upon
the necessity for further discussion.1 Essentially, the matter
now depended upon the PNI and NU, as the primary supporters of
the cabinet, accepting, rejecting, or offering a compromise on
the National Council's proposals. The PKI's views were im-
portant in the negotiations, but its influence was less because
it was not in the cabinet. Army officers were trying, to some
extent, to make common cause with the PNI and NU against the
PKI, which left the latter somewhat at the mercy of the other
two parties, even though it was their defense of the party
system that the PKI was continually attempting to shore up.
^See the address by Soekarno at the Pantjasila Seminar
on Feb. 20, 1959, in Seminar Pantjasila ke-I (Jogjakarta, Seminar
Committee, 1959), p. 212. See also A. Laksmi, "Open Talk," in
Mimbar Indonesia, XII, no. 50 (Dec. 13, 1958), 3-4, 18.236
The PNI and NU needed no great prodding, however, for
the National Council proposals were unacceptable to them from
the beginning. To sum up again briefly, these proposals were:
1) that 50 per cent of Parliament be turned over to functional
groups, 2) that functional group candidates should be chosen by
a National Front established by law and led by Soekarno, 3) that
Soekarno should determine the list of functional group candi-
dates, 4) that election ballots should comprise two lists--one
of parties, one of functional groups—and that voting should
be done by puncturing the ballot twice, once on the party side
and once on the functional group side, and 5) that representa-
tives of the armed forces functional group be appointed, not
elected, to Parliament.
Having reluctantly accepted the principle of functional
representation, the parties were forced to bargain for better
proportions and, more important, for the right to exercise some
control over functional groups in the electoral process.
Roeslan explained in February that the essential problem lay
in finding a balance between? 1) the armed forces functional
group and the other functional groups, 2) the function of the
National Front and the authority of the President as its chair-
man, and 3) the position of the parties and the National Front
in choosing candidates and electing functional representatives
in Parliament.2 Though it does not entirely represent the
views of the PKI and NU, the following comment from a semi-
official history of the PNI (published in 1959) lays down the
party case?3
The PNI Party Council did not accept—not entirely—
the above conception of the National Council, particularly
with respect to the method of introducing functional groups
into Parliament. In broad outline the objections of the
Party Council were as follows?
On the method of election ... The functional group
candidates with their own electoral symbols would not enter
the Parliament as candidates put forward by the parties,
and therefore would be free of all ties and party discipline
in Parliament. The parties . . . would compete for only
one-half of the Parliament, so that the representation of
any party would be at a minimum (the 50 per cent would be
further divided). This would mean 'emasculating' the par-
ties. And it is only logical that no party, all the more
so a major party, would be prepared to 'emasculate itself.'
2
See Roeslan's address in Seminar Pantjasila ke-I,
pp, 153-154.
3
Empat Windu Partal Nasional Indonesia (Four Windus
[a windu is eight years] of the PNI; published by the PNI re-
gional council of Central Java, n.d.), pp. 251-253.237
... The multi-party system in Indonesia has evidently
brought ... damaging consequences for the nation . . .
so that there must be a simplification of the parties a-
chieved by law. But Guided Democracy must not ... emas-
culate the parties. Because Guided Democracy is democracyJ
If the parties are not healthy they should be made healthy,
and if there are too many parties their number should be
simplified.
Similarly another National Council conception which
the Party Council could not accept was that the functional
group electoral list would be determined by the president. .
This was unacceptable to the Party Council, in addition
to other reasons because Bung Karno, whom we love very much,
cannot remain President forever. . . . Moreover, the PNI
could not accept a law brought before Parliament which pro-
vided:	'The list of functional group candidates would be
determined by President Soekarno [personally]. . . .' What
would the whole world then say about Indonesia? If the
PNI agreed to such a law, its reputation would be shattered.
And not only the PNI, but also Bung Karno's name would be
sullied. And the PNI does not want Bung Karno's name to
be sullied.
The PNI and NU would not agree to more than a one-
third functional representation, but the more important ques-
tion was how functional group representatives should be selected
Party leaders counter-proposed that functional representatives
should be chosen via the parties themselves on a single list
ballot.4 Functional groups would thus be brought under the
wing of the parties, preventing their appearance as an alterna-
tive to the party system. This obviously was unacceptable to
the National Council, for it would negate the anti-party inten-
tions of the original proposals; the National Front would be
rendered ineffectual, and the parties would remain the core of
the electoral system. Between the two poles there appeared to
be no grounds for compromise. In addition, the PKI objected
strenuously to the provision that representatives of the army
be appointed to Parliament, and the PNI and NU objected to the
large number of representatives demanded by the army.
The second and third Open Talks (January 15th and
January 26th) proceeded under great tension, for questions
4
Ibid., p. 253. Both the PNI and NU maintained con-
sistently from 1957 through the early months of 1959 that the
parties already adequately represented functional interests;
therefore functional groups were unnecessary. But both, like
the PKI, reluctantly accepted the idea in recognition of the
fact that this was less a matter of principle than of bargain-
ing position, and their bargaining position was not excellent.
See also "Perwakilan Golongan Funksionil Parlemen" (The Repre-
sentation of Functional Groups in Parliament) in Pesat, XV,
no. 6 (Feb. 7, 1959), 3-7.238
began to be asked about the outcome should the parties refuse
to go along with Soekarno. There were rumors that the cabinet
would resign to be reshuffled, but this gave no hope that the
situation would change later. Masjumi and the rest of the
right-wing renewed their demand that the Dwitunggal be restored,
with Hatta as prime minister. Within the cabinet, friction
resulted from a speech broadcast in mid-January by Minister of
Information Soedibjo in which he praised Guided Democracy and
disparaged Parliament, provoking counter-attacks in the party
press and an interpellation in Parliament.5 At the same time
maneuvering began, within both party and non-party groups, for
positions in the new National Planning Council, whose composi-
tion was being considered by the cabinet during January and
February.θ But the Open Talks held the center of the stage,
as the pro-Soekarno press demanded the immediate acquiescence
of the parties in the National Council's program, while the
parties advised against any precipitant action. Harian Rakjat,
involved in a feud with Merdeka, the paper of the National
Council member B. M. Diah, commented that the National Council
should reconsider its proposals if no agreement were reached
in the Open Talks.5 * 7 But the anti-party press, deriding the
hypocrisy of the "so-called supporters of Guided Democracy,"
warned that unless the parties gave in the country would suffer.
The inclination to put everything into Soekarno1s hands in order
to find a solution to the conflict grew noticeably.
5See Suluh Indonesia, Jan. 16, 1959. Soedibjo had said
that Parliament was infected by the disease of liberalism, which
the PNI daily countered by declaring that every other governing
institution, including the planning council yet to be formed,
also suffered from various ailments. Moreover, said Suluh
Indonesia, the Ministry of Information (which also controlled
the national radio network), as the spokesman of the cabinet,
should reflect the cabinet's views--which in the Guided Democ-
racy conflict it never did, Soedibjo enthusiastically allying
himself with Soekarno. Later Soedibjo tried to explain his
attack away in answer to the parliamentary interpellation.
θ
See Pos Indonesia, Jan. 13, 1959. The cabinet planned
hearings with organizations of youth, women, labor, etc., in
order to select the sixty-six members of the National Planning
Council. As the trend of the times became clearer, various
organizations began to stake out claims to functional group
status· thus in late January the Union of Internal Affairs
Officials demanded to know why the pamong pradja administrative
corps was not considered a functional group. The rush was on.
Pos Indonesia, Jan. 24, 1959.
7
See Harian Rakjat, Jan. 14y and Abadi, Jan. 15, 1959,
which argued the Masjumi view that there was no need for major
institutional changes—the system is all right, it said, only
the leaders are no good.239
Taking matters into his own hands, then, Soekarno sum-
moned the leaders of the PNI, NU, and the PKI—not, conspicu-
ously, Masjumi—for private discussions on January 11th, before
the second Open Talk.® He was unable to change their positions,
however, and afterwards the party delegations admitted to the
press that some difference of views remained concerning the
size of functional representation in Parliament. NU leaders,
fearing perhaps that the PNI and the PKI might make separate
deals with Soekarno, insisted that Masjumi should be invited
to join the discussion in order to make its views known.® But
Soekarno continued to ignore Masjumi.
The second Open Talk was held on January 15th, after
Djuanda had received several proposals from a new National
Council committee, one of whose members was Nasution. Djuanda
spoke optimistically of the meeting before it began, partly no
doubt to dispel the atmosphere of desperation. But he may
also have been encouraged by the cabinet's acceptance of a
quota for armed forces representatives in Parliament. The
National Council apparently succeeded in reducing Nasution's
demand for one-fourth of the Parliament to 35 appointive seats,
to which the PNI and NU agreed.10 At the second Open Talk
this item was approved, but although Djuanda reaffirmed his
optimism afterwards, it is unlikely that much else was settled.
Following this second round of discussions, the cabinet
established a committee to formulate a set of compromise pro-
posals before the next Open Talk.H Strained optimism preceded
this third meeting, held in Bogor, but in the event the discus-
sion broke down completely.12 From available evidence, it
Q
Pos Indonesia, Jan. 9, 1959. See also Ministry of
Information, Kronik Dokumentasi, Demokrasi Terpimpin, pp. 220 ff.
Aidit, Lukman, and Njoto represented the PKI; Wahab Chasbullah,
Idham Chalid, Djamaluddin Malik, and Zainul Arifin represented
NU? and Suwirjo, Manuaba, S. Hadikusumo, and Mrs. Supeni repre-
sented the PNI.
9
Pos Indonesia, Jan. 12, 1959.
10See Pos Indonesia, Jan. 19 and 22, 1959. On Jan.
13th, the PNI party council accepted the idea of appointive
seats for the armed forces but still insisted that the total
functional group representation of Parliament should not exceed
one-third and that it should be under the parties' aegis? Pesat,
XV, no. 10 (March 7, 1959), 6.
Upos Indonesia, Jan. 16, 1959. The committee consisted
of Djuanda, Leimena, Hardi, Idham, and Yamin.
12
At this meeting, Muljadi, Soekardan, Sadjarwo, and
Sanusi did not attend. Idham Chalid left in the early afternoon,240
seems likely that the cabinet parties continued to argue for a
one-third functional group quota in Parliament, a single list
ballot controlled by the parties, and, possibly, for functional
candidates to be chosen by the functional groups themselves
rather than by the National Front.13 This latter was the least
the parties could demand in the hope of assuring themselves
some influence over the functional candidates and stunting the
growth of a Front led by Soekarno. At the end of the ten hour
meeting, it is possible that Soekarno angrily offered the orig-
inal National Council proposals, as amended in the second Open
Talk, and told the cabinet that everything now depended on its
finding a solution. Later Roeslan was to say that this set of
proposals, called the Bogor Formula, was a compromise agreed to
by the cabinet· but this it decidedly was not.
The Bogor Formula provided first of all that the armed
forces would be given 35 appointive seats in Parliament and
that functional groups would have neither more nor less than
50 per cent of the total seats in Parliament. Second, a Na-
tional Front would be established by law which, in addition to
putting up candidates in elections, would "buttress the unity
of functional groups for the purpose of over-all development."
Third, except for appointive members, functional group candi-
dates would be chosen "through and/or by the National Front."
The ballot would comprise a double list, with each party and
functional group having its own symbol, and the ballot must be
punctured twice.14 The list of functional group candidates
would be determined by the President after consultation with
the political parties and other electoral associations. Clearly
the parties had had little success in softening the National
Council's demands.
Following the third Open Talk, a sense of "anything can
happen" pervaded the capital.15 There were new rumors of a
complaining that he did not feel well (Pos Indonesia, Jan. 27,
1959). In the Open Talks probably only a few ministers took
active part, and of course the cabinet was quite divided, sev-
eral members—including Yamin, Chaerul Saleh, Prijono, Soedibjo,
and Hanafi—being firmly on the President's side.
13
See Pos Indonesia, Jan. 23, 1959.
14
Failure to puncture the ballot twice—once on the
party side, once on the functional group side—would render it
invalid. This was intended to prevent the parties from telling
their followers not to vote at all on the functional group side.
See Roeslan in Seminar Pantjasila ke-I, pp. 153-154, for the
Bogor Formula.
15
In the provinces, however, there was increasingly
noticeable indifference to the confusing intricacies of Djakarta
politics, partly at least because restraints on the Djakarta241
coup, of abolition of the parties, and of a cabinet overhaul.
The pro-Soekarno press demanded that the Bogor Formula be an-
nounced immediately—it had been kept secret—and put into ef-
fect. But to have done this would have been to throw Soekarno
and the parties into a direct public confrontation, from which
Soekarno could not easily have backed down. The parties one
by one clarified their views, at the end of January and the
beginning of February, and it was obvious that the impasse had
not been overcome. On the 30th, after a party executive coun-
cil meeting on the 28th, Idham said that the NU could accept
functional representation in Parliament only with the agreement
of Parliament and on condition that the functional groups were
connected with the parties.Lukman said on behalf of the
PKI (Aidit being in Moscow at the time) that the party approved
Guided Democracy but opposed the appointment of members of the
armed forces to Parliament; they should be elected, he said, for
otherwise they would not have the support of the people.17 The
PNI, racked by internal dissent and indecision, met several
times in late January and early February without defining its
stand clearly, but it was evident that the party could not
agree to the Bogor Formula. Soekarno, who had declared after
the January 26th meeting that there would be no more Open Talks,
was informed of the parties' positions while he was on tour
through Java. The deadlock remained and the cabinet had to
find a way out or face the indeterminate consequences.
With remarkable quietude for Djakarta politics, in
January and February a new line of compromise was developing
that finally broke the deadlock. This was the possibility of
adopting the 1945 Constitution, which Nasution had continued
to espouse since proposing it to the National Council in August
1958. (For reference the text of this brief constitution is
included as an appendix, following the end of this chapter,
press made it more difficult to get straight news. But also
economic conditions in some regions received more attention
than events in the capital. See Java Post, Feb. 17, 1959.
Moreover, it may also be that the greater independence enjoyed
by the regions under martial law was having the effect of turn-
ing provincial attention slightly more inward. Unlike the
period before 1957, it became easier for men to say "to hell
with Djakarta" and tend their local concerns with somewhat
less fear of interference from the capital.
16Pesat, XV, no. 6 (Feb. 7, 1959), 6; Pos Indonesia,
Jan. 28 and 31, 1959.
17
Harian Rakjat, Feb. 1, 1959. Lukman also said that
the PKI would oppose Guided Democracy if it were used to dis-
solve the parties and eliminate democracy. The anti-Communist
press quickly emphasized the PKI's opposition to military re-
presentation. Pedoman, Feb. 2 and 10, 1959.242
though it should by no means be taken as a guide to the actual
workings or operative structure of the government either during
the revolution or after July 1959.) As a compromise solution
it had numerous advantages, several of which were referred to
in the last chapter.
The 1945 Constitution would put dominant formal author-
ity in Soekarno's hands, and since 1957 most parties had agreed
on the merits of a stronger executive led by Soekarno. Probably
the PKI had the most (tacit) reservations about such a course,
primarily because a stronger executive must mean a weaker Par-
liament. But Soekarno's own reservations were also consider-
able, for the reasons discussed in Chapter V. In addition,
the idea of restoring the 1945 Constitution was less attractive
because it was Nasution's brainchild, and the army's political
power was becoming more menacing by the day. The President
finally agreed, however, because of the lack of any other prac-
ticable compromise and because of increasing pressure within
the National Council to take this step. It will be remembered
that in August 1958 the National Council had agreed upon the
1945 Constitution as an alternative course of action should
other efforts fail.
Adopting this constitution would help solve the func-
tional group problem. Allowing for great freedom of interpre-
tation, article 2 of the 1945 Constitution could be construed
as providing for functional representation. The Open Talk
differences could be partially side-tracked for the sake of
institutional recognition of functional representation, and
the question of proportions of party and functional group mem-
bership in Parliament could be held in abeyance.
Moreover, it could also be argued in defense of the
1945 Constitution that, in providing specifically for regional
representation (art. 2), it would work to satisfy regional
aspirations. At the same time, it would establish a unitary
state, nipping in the bud the evidently growing federalist
sentiment in the Constituent Assembly. Nasution and other
officers probably also argued that adoption of the 1945 Consti-
tution would, by restoring the spirit of 1945, encourage all
rebels to return to the fold.^·8 On another level of argument,
adopting the 1945 Constitution would bring the Konstituante
to an end and settle the Islam-Pantjasila conflict in favor of
the latter. This argument undoubtedly appealed to Soekarno
and others in the National Council, but it could not of course
appeal to NU, whose lack of enthusiasm later caused the effort
to restore the 1945 Constitution much grief.
18
See supra, p. 207, on Nasution1s proposal in the Na-
tional Council that the 1945 Constitution be restored. The
arguments are repeated here because they probably became opera-
tive for a wider group of National Council members in early 1959
once the notion of resuscitating the early constitution took
hold.243
Other advantages of the 1945 Constitution were mainly
symbolic. It was suited to the revival of the revolutionary
temper best articulated by Soekarno himself. The "Return to
the Spirit of 1945" was a banner that waved daily, and as
political malaise increased the words assumed more significance
for those dismayed by the confusion of the state. Army offi-
cers were most enthusiastic about a return to the Spirit of
1945, for the revolution symbolized their important contribu-
tion to the birth of independent Indonesia. But other groups
also benefitted. The Generation of 1945, hardly an organiza-
tion before, suddenly began to take shape in early 1959. Under
the leadership of Chaerul Saleh, who sought to create a per-
sonal following from it, a major organization meeting was called
in Djakarta of selected claimants to a place in revolutionary
history. Vaguely conceived and without specific purpose, the
Generation of 1945 was never to amount to much as a political
force, but whatever chance it had depended largely on the sym-
bolism of 1945. For others, the Spirit of 1945 took on the
anti-party aspect of Guided Democracy, offering an escape from
misgovernment and political disunity.19 In any event, the
important point is that revolutionary symbolism had widespread
appeal, and in this environment the 1945 Constitution always
seemed just around the corner.
It is not clear when the cabinet began to consider the
1945 Constitution seriously. It is likely that it was being
discussed again by the National Council during its session of
January 12th-13th following Soekarno1s abortive talks with PNI,
NU, and PKI leaders on the 11th. Adoption of the 1945 Consti-
tution may have been proposed to the cabinet during the second
Open Talk, and it was certainly one topic of discussion at the
third Open Talk on January 26th. From then until February 20th,
the 1945 Constitution was as lively an issue within the cabinet
as functional representation and the National Front. Unlike
the latter two problems, however, on which the PNI and NU were
agreed, the 1945 Constitution divided them.
The PNI accepted it more quickly; in fact the party
claims to have proposed its adoption at a party council meeting
on January 13th.20 Not only was it seen by PNI leaders as an
19
Similarly the later restoration of the 1945 Constitu-
tion was seen popularly also as an anti-party move. A public
official in Surabaja said to me in November 1959 that "The 1945
Constitution is a symbol of revolutionary struggle. People
want to return to the period of the revolution, to start at the
beginning again, and to reduce the part played by political par-
ties. ... The country has. to stop the political parties, which
favor only their own interests, from ruining the state." The
sentiment was commonly expressed.
20
See Pesat, XV, no. 10 (March 7, 1959), 6, and Empat
Windu, pp. 253-254. PNI leaders noted that they had proposed244
acceptable compromise, but also they were convinced that giving
Soekarno a more prominent formal role must redound to their
advantage. Many in the party had already concluded that the
threat of the PKI was greater than the threat posed by Soekarno
to parliamentary institutions. They (and many others on the
left and right) believed that only Soekarno, with his immense
popular support, could hold the Communists in check. In addi-
tion, PNI leaders also assumed, as always, that Soekarno would
ultimately turn more towards the PNI than to any other party.
At the same time, a toned-down Guided Democracy, with the
Pantjasila as its ideological component, could be seen as the
fulfillment of the PNI cause.
Initially, NU leaders refused unequivocally even to
consider the possibility of adopting the 1945 Constitution.
For, unlike the PNI, the NU could not view with equanimity the
demise of the Constituent Assembly and the abandonment of the
Islamic struggle; nor could much political compensation be ex-
pected were they to agree. The NU did not have all of the
PNI1s reasons for welcoming Soekarno's assumption of a stronger
role; and being somewhat more confident in its electoral
strength, the NU was more worried that Parliament would suffer.
On January 30th, Idham Chalid said that NU acceptance of func-
tional representation depended among other things, on mainten-
ance of "the provisional constitution [of 1950] . . . and the
authority of the President given him by the provisional con-
stitution. "21
The three weeks following the third Open Talk were
spent in intense maneuvering as the parties worked assiduously
to head off any decision by Soekarno to announce the Bogor For-
mula. While pressure built up in the press for the parties to
accept the National Council proposals on functional representa-
tion, Nasution urged the cabinet to accept the 1945 Constitu-
tion. On January 30th, IPKI, whose connections with the army
were bringing it increasingly into prominence, publicly proposed
a return to the 1945 Constitution.22 Suwirjo followed suit for
a presidential cabinet at the party congress executive meeting
in Semarang in April 1958. The PNI, like several other groups,
has staked out rather extravagant claims to the honor of having
been the first to think of the 1945 Constitution. If the 1945
Constitution was actually discussed at the PNI meeting on Jan.
13, 1959, then it is likely that Soekarno talked about it with
PNI, NU, and PKI leaders on Jan. 11.
21
Pos Indonesia, Jan. 31, 1959. This was at the cele-
bration of NU's 34th anniversary, following a party council
meeting on Jan. 28th. See also Pesat, XV, no. 10 (March 7,
1959), 7.
22
Suluh Indonesia, Jan. 31, 1959.245
23
the PNI on February 13th. In mid-February political activity
became even more intense as the National Council met on the
12th to hear Soekarno1s report on the third Open Talk. The
cabinet met the next day. And at the same time# in a move
aimed at bringing pressure to bear on both the National Council
and the cabinet, Nasution called another conference of mili-
tary commanders to meet in Djakarta on the 13th and 14th. This
conference was frankly devoted to political matters, producing
statements of support for Soekarno in his attempts to implement
Guided Democracy and promises of backing for the Government in
stabilizing the economy. In reporting the conference conclu-
sions to Soekarno and Djuanda, it is likely that Nasution told
them that the officer corps was fully committed to the 1945
Constitution.24
23
Bintang Timur, Feb. 14, 1959. On Feb. 11, Suluh In-
donesia declared in an editorial that the time had come for
Soekarno to say the final word and assume "total leadership in
the people's struggle." The PNI-leaning weekly Pesat, XV, no.
7 (Feb. 14, 1959), 3-4, proposed a return to the 1945 Constitu-
tion as a way out of national difficulties and claimed to be
the first to propose this solution publicly. Murba issued a
statement favoring the 1945 Constitution on Feb. 19th, when the
cabinet had already decided upon this course. By this time,
the 1945 Constitution was something of a topic of rumor-ridden
conversation. Bintang Timur, frequently close to Harian Rakjat
in its views, on Feb. 16, 1959, noted the trend with disfavor,
fearing that the 1945 Constitution might be "an easy way" to
settle the functional group problem and to give the President
absolute powers. The Constitution, said Bintang Timur, was not
set up for that purpose but to protect the rights of the people
It warned that if there were to be a return to the 1945 Consti-
tution, it must be done constitutionally, and therefore the
two-thirds rule in the Konstituante should be reconsidered.
This turned out to be prophetic.
a message sent to a civilian-military meeting of
some sort in West Sumatra on Feb. 13, Nasution said, "it is
commonly known that the TNI (army) is pioneering the effort to
return to the Constitution of the Proclamation of ’45" (Pos
Indonesia/ Feb. 13, 1959). This was one of the few occasions
on which Nasution publicly claimed credit on behalf of the army
for the move to revive the revolutionary constitution. Nasu-
tion 's statement may have been directed towards the rebel of-
ficers, for he said at the same time that the door was open for
the rebels to return. Later, army sources denied that the ef-
fort to restore the 1945 Constitution was connected with at-
tempts to end the rebellion. On the army conference in Dja-
karta, see Pos Indonesia, Feb. 19, and Pedoman, Feb. 13, 1959,
which noted that the conference was probably connected with the
cabinet discussions on functional group representation. Nasu-
tion went to West Sumatra on Feb. 15 and was back in Djakarta246
Throughout these weeks the NU cabinet ministers were
under powerful pressure to accept the 1945 Constitution. There
were several meetings between Soekarno and NU leaders,25 and
in addition Djuanda, PNI leaders, and army officers were all
urging them to accede. Finally they were brought round, some-
time before February 19th, by the highly persuasive argument
that if they did not corruption charges pending against several
top echelon NU leaders would be prosecuted. As was indicated
in Djuanda1 2 * * * *s report during the debates on martial law in Decem-
ber, Zainul Arifin and Djamaluddin Malik were actually awaiting
trial in cases begun under the army's anti-corruption campaign,
and others were under investigation.26 Reluctantly, Idham
therefore committed the NU to support a cabinet decision adopt-
ing the 1945 Constitution, even though this would mean victory
for the Pantjasila in the Constituante. He and other NU minis-
ters insisted only upon the face-saving proviso that their ac-
ceptance was with the understanding that the Djakarta Charter
of 1945 was the "burden and soul" of the 1945 Constitution.27
Despite their evident discomfort, however, it should be pointed
out that an element in the NU leaders' support of the 1945 Con-
stitution was a willingness to go along for the quid pro quo
of remaining in the government.
on the 17th, when he met with Djuanda for a talk that undoubt-
edly touched on the 1945 Constitution; Pos Indonesia, Feb. 18,
1959.
25
See Pos Indonesia, Feb. 13 and 17, 1959.
2 6
Besides Zainul and Djamaluddin, an extraordinary
number of the highest NU leaders was known to be involved in
various brands of corruption—including, for example, illegal
gold imports, manipulations in the purchase of foreign printed
Korans, and so on.
27Pesat, XV, no. 10 (March 7, 1959), 7. In a state-
ment on Feb. 21, the NU noted that it had tried to speed up
the work of the Konstituante; thus it had proposed the "Pantja-
sila-Islam" compromise to overcome the deadlock. In the con-
viction that its proposal would not be accepted, the NU then
went on to say that if the 1945 Constitution were then proposed
to the Konstituante, "in all sincerity [the NU] will be pre-
pared to accept it with the understanding that this acceptance
of the 1945 Constitution also means accepting everything con-
nected with 'the historical documents,' including also the
Djakarta Charter (Piagam Djakarta) as the burden and soul of
the 1945 Constitution." The NU statement did not insist, how-
ever, that the Djakarta Charter be incorporated into the Con-
stitution. See also Utrecht, Pengantar Dalam Hukum Indonesia
(Djakarta: Ichtiar, 1959), pp. 439-440, n. 237. See supra,
p. 128 on the Djakarta Charter.247
Once the NU had given its assent, the cabinet sat down
to a hurried and strained session on February 18th and 19th to
work out a full compromise proposal for Soekarno. At this time
a seminar on the Pantjasila was in progress in Jogjakarta, and
on the night of the 16th Roeslan—as he had done on September
13th, 1958, with the National Council discussions—publicly re-
leased the Bogor Formula, undoubtedly in order to spur the
cabinet and particularly the PNI and NU into action. Djuanda
and the party leaders were infuriated, fearing that the gigantic
leak would scotch the compromise effort· but it turned out to
be mainly an irritating incident.28 The cabinet completed its
proposal on the 19th and sent it immediately to Soekarno, who
announced his acceptance of it on the 20th at the Pantjasila
Seminar.29
The cabinet proposal was in many ways a classic in the
genus of political compromise. Attention should be called to
three points in it. First, it was decided to follow constitu-
tional procedures, although some consideration was given to
the possibility of simply asking Parliament to approve the 1945
Constitution. Prof. Yamin was responsible for the formula that
President Soekarno should "go in through the front door of the
Konstituante" to ask it to accept the 1945 Constitution. The
second point was that the Constituent Assembly would be re-
quested to accept the 1945 Constitution unchanged, thus avoid-
ing Islamic amendments and a prolonged and acrimonious debate.
Third, the Djakarta Charter would be formally acknowledged,
but no more than that? the reasoning of the cabinet decision
on this point was seriously wanting in diplomacy. The compromise
28
Djuanda attacked Roeslan on the 20th for creating
tensions between the cabinet and the National Council. He
pointed out that to disclose the National Council's discussions
was a violation of the law which established the Council as an
advisory body to the cabinet. Djuanda also denied that the
Bogor Formula was a compromise. See Pesat, XV, no. 9 (Feb. 28,
1959), 4-5. See also Empat Windu, p. 254.
In the same forum in Jogjakarta, Roeslan and Moh. Yamin
campaigned for the 1945 Constitution. Yamin described the
growing "movement to return to the 1945 Constitution" as a
matter of principle transcending mere questions of compromise;
to return to the first constitution, he said, was not to turn
back the clock but rather to return to proper origins. Yamin,
a practiced nationalist ideologue, declared that with the 1945
Constitution the Unitary Republic of Indonesia would be re-
created on the basis of a doctrine consisting of three princi-
ples:	The pantjasila, Guided Democracy, and functionalism.
See Seminar Pantjasila ke-I, pp. 28-46; Pos Indonesia, Feb. 19,
1959.
^Seminar Pantjasila ke-I, pp. 209-222.248
is summarized below. Items of particular importance or in-
terest are underscored.
On the 1945 Constitutions It is an "historical document"
on the basis of which the revolution was begun and which
can be used to complete the revolution. It is adequately
democratic and in tune with the national identity. It
guarantees the implementation of Guided Democracy. "Guided
Democracy is democracy." The 1945 Constitution guarantees
stable government for at least five years. The amendment
procedure is flexible, though it is best that amending it
be held off for several years pending political and economic
stabilization. Functional groups can be introduced into
Parliament, the Supreme Advisory Council, and the People's
Consultative Assembly. Guided economy can be implemented
on the basis of art. 33, after explication by the National
Planning Council.
"The 1945 Constitution will be adopted as a whole."	[i.e.,
without change for the present.]
"In order to approach the desires of Islamic groups, in
connection with restoring and maintaining security, the
existence is recognized of the 'Djakarta Charter' of 22
June 1945, signed by Soekarno, Moh. Hatta, A. A. Maramis,
Abikusno Tjokrosujoso, A. K. Muzakir, Agus Salim. A. Subar-
djo, Wahid Hasjim and Muh. Yarnin."^!
On the procedure for returning to the 1945 Constitution:
This will be done constitutionally. It will be taken to
30
See Ministry of Information, Kembali ke Undang-Undang
Dasar 1945 (Return to the Constitution of 1945; Djakarta, 1959),
pp. 5-10. See also Notosoetarjo, Kembali kepada Djiwa Prokla-
masi 1945 (Return to the Spirit of the Proclamation of 1945)
published in 1959 by the daily, Pemuda. Also Simorangkir and
Mang Reng Say, Tentang dan Sekitar Undang-Undang Dasar 1945
(On the 1945 Constitution· Djakarta: Djambatan, 1959). Subse-
quent events nullified much of this compromise, but the princi-
ple points are still of considerable interest.
31
The threat is explicitly recognized here that to ig-
nore Islam entirely might lead to defections by devout Moslems
and the consequent strengthening of the Darul Islam or the PRRI.
As it was, however, the wording angered many Islamic leaders
who were simply not satisfied to have their sentiments "ap-
proached." Army leaders argued that restoring the 1945 Consti-
tution would offer an excuse for Darul Islam members who wanted
to stop fighting to do so; for many who had joined the Darul
Islam in 1948 had done so because they felt that the Republic
was giving up the battle against the Dutch and forsaking the
revolutionary struggle.249
the Konstituante, where the President will speak in the
name of the Government to request that the 1945 Constitu-
tion be adopted. If accepted/ the 1945 Constitution/ ac-
cording to art. 137 of the provisional constitution [on the
Konstituante and the new constitution]/ will be proclaimed
"with grandeur." The proclamation will be accompanied by
a "Bandung Charter" [Piagam Bandung] signed in the Konsti-
tuante by the President/ Ministers/ and members of the
Konstituante. The Bandung Charter will contain these pro-
visions:	a) on the existence of the Djakarta Charter,
b) that the results of the Konstituante's work to date will
be given to the Government,32 c) that the Government will
form a committee to bring existing laws into line with the
1945 Constitution, d) the promulgation of the 1945 Consti-
tution for the entire nation.
Upon promulgation of the new constitution the Kabinet Karya
will return its mandate. Beforehand the Kabinet Karya will
prepare draft laws on the party system and elections· these
will be put before the present Parliament, which will con-
tinue until a new Parliament is formed following the next
elections. The new Parliament will consider draft laws on the
Supreme Advisory Council and the People's Consultative
Assembly.33 The People's Consultative Assembly will then
select a President and Vice-President according to art. 6.
On functional groups in Parliament: It is agreed that to
make the party system healthy it must be simplified on the
basis of new laws on the party system and elections. The
parties will not be abolished.
Functional groups will be included in one list of parties
and electoral associations under one symbol, alternating
on the ballot with the party candidates, without further
consideration of whether the total functional group con-
tingent should comprise one-third or one-half of Parliament.
32
This was an attempt to head off criticism and rebel-
lion in the Konstituante. The implicit promise was that the
Konstituante's work would not go to waste. The results of the
Konstituante's labors from 1956 through early 1959 can be found
in Ministry of Information, Kembali ke Undang-Undang Dasar 1945,
pp. 137-214, an appendix to Djuanda's report to Parliament in
March.
33
In the interim, however, it was assumed by supporters
of Soekarno that he would appoint these bodiesj thus he would
have tremendous authority for about two years. And that is
the way it happened, with the result that the parties ultimately
were unable to get the benefit they hoped for from the compro-
mise.250
The President may participate in compiling the lists of
candidates with the understanding that; a"5 he will be as-
sisted by a new National Front established by law, b) his
consultations will be by musjawarah [full discussion] and
kebid jaksanaan [ judiciousness J, c"5 the National Front will
have the right to put forward its own list of functional
group candidates.34
The President/Commander-in-Chief will appoint the armed
forces representatives to Parliament—i.e., the army, navy,
air-force, police, OKD [Village Security] and OPR [People's
Defense], The total armed forces representation will be
35. Members of the armed forces will be disenfranchised.35
An enormous campaign—led almost entirely by the army—
to mobilize and dramatize public fervor behind the "Return to
1945" was launched immediately. Banners were strung everywhere,
and there was even a special train decked out for the purpose
in April. Mass rallies were organized under army auspices by
the FNPIB, with demonstrations and parades by the civil-military
cooperation bodies. Soekarno spoke to one such meeting on
March 8th, military and commandeered private trucks transporting
people from surrounding areas to the huge field in front of the
palace. In general, however, Soekarno did not play an active
part in the campaign; after a few speeches, he said he would
speak no more and the people would make up their own minds.
Nasution cracked down on the press, threatening repressive ac-
tion, already commonplace, against "tendentious" reporting on
the return to the 1945 Constitution. In several regions, par-
ticularly in the outer islands, army commanders told military
and civilian officials to support the 1945 Constitution or give
up their positions.
34
This is not altogether clear, but the interpretation
of Soekarno and those close to him was that he would discuss
the ballot lists with the parties and that he would decide upon
the relative ranking of the functional group candidates. One
consequence of this would be that Soekarno would be given an
opportunity to mix in party affairs. Moreover, Soekarno seemed
to think that the system might result in a Parliament consist-
ing of even more than 50 per cent functional representatives.
In his Feb. 20 address in Jogjakarta, he stated, "With this
system which I have decided to accept [from the Cabinet pro-
posal] even though it is a single list and not a double list
system, the Parliament will have even more functional represen-
tatives than 50% of the total. This is very joyous news." See
Seminar Pantjasila ke-I, pp. 217-219. See also George McT.
Kahin, "Indonesia," in Kahin, ed., Major Governments of Asia
(Ithaca, N.Y.s Cornell University Press, 2d ed., 1963), p] 663,
n. 15.
35
It was recognized, of course, that the General Staff
would select its own representatives for appointment.251
The strained atmosphere of the discussions on the 1945
Constitution did not allow the issue to be viewed with appre-
ciable depth and imagination. Many serious questions were
raised, it is true, both in Parliament and the Constituent
Assembly, about constitutional structure and substance; and
there was great concern over the kind of governmental system
that would evolve. Parliamentary debates touched on the point
that the early constitution contained no list of human rights,
that it provided only very limited controls on the government,
and that it was inadequate in other respects.3θ These inade-
quacies Djuanda admitted, promising that they would be corrected
in time. The main concern of the Government, however, was to
get the 1945 Constitution accepted by the Constituent Assembly.
On March 2nd Djuanda reported to Parliament on the cabinet de-
cision; and on March 25th he replied to questions, amidst grow-
ing public interest. Discussions were quickly held between
the cabinet and the Konstituante leadership to set an early
date for Soekarno's speech. After some opposition from Prawoto,
one of the vice-chairmen of the Konstituante, it was agreed
that Soekarno should address the Assembly on April 22nd, the
day prior to departure on a two-month world trip. Konstituante
Chairman Wilopo was at first reluctant to bring the 1945 Con-
stitution before the body, fearing that it would not get the
required two-thirds majority; he agreed only after Djuanda1s
assurance of NU support, which would give the proposal more
than enough votes.
The dramatic cabinet decision of February 19th won
quick approval from most parties. Statements of support were
forthcoming from PNI and NU headquarters almost immediately.
Many minor parties—including the PSI, Parkindo, the PSII,
IPKI, Murba, Partindo, and a dozen others—also expressed their
approval of the 1945 Constitution, though some of them attached
conditions. It was generally agreed that Soekarno's assumption
of formal authority would be a healthy development. Moreover,
leaders of several of the non-Communist parties concurred in
the view that the return to the 1945 Constitution would con-
siderably damage the PKI.
PKI leaders also feared this might be the case. Adopt-
ing the 1945 Constitution was another step towards destruction
of the parliamentary road to government. Furthermore, the army
had won a favored and permanent role in the political system.
But the only practicable choice for the PKI was to adjust to
the new situation, and it was fortunate to possess the vitality,
3 6
See Ministry of Information, Kemball ke Undang-Undang
Dasar 1945, pp. 37-132, for Parliamentary questions on the 1945
Constitution and Djuanda's reply. Most questions had to do
with functional groups, the role of Soekarno, the National
Front, elections, and what would happen to the Konstituante if
it refused to approve the 1945 Constitution.252
flexibility, and adequate mass support to do so. At the an-
nouncement of the cabinet decision, the PKI hesitated and then
agreed, with evident reluctance; the party withheld judgment,
however, on the projected election and parties laws until they
could be examined. The CCPKI statement also emphasized that
the return to the 1945 Constitution meant that Soekarno would
assume both executive and legislative leadership, and it renewed
its demand for admission to the cabinet.37 Thereafter the PKI
became one of the chief advocates of the 1945 Constitution,
solidly supporting the course which it knew to be inevitable.
Masjumi's initial response to the decision on the 1945
Constitution was equivocal. The party had always favored a
strong executive government, but at this time there was nothing
politically favorable for it in the decision. Masjumi leaders
demanded that Hatta return to the government, on the grounds
that the Dwitunggal was an essential part of the 1945 picture.38
But neither this nor any of Masjumi's other interests were to
be satisfied. Furthermore, the Constituent Assembly was to be
eliminated and with it the Islamic struggle at that level, and
aside from objections of principle on this score Masjumi leaders
did not want the ideological issue to come to a head before the
rebellion was ended and the party was in a much better bargain-
ing position.
Masjumi was by no means united in facing these problems,
however. The division in the party was seen in clear relief
at the Masjumi national congress held in Jogjakarta from April
23rd to 27th, just before the Konstituante debates on the 1945
Constitution. A serious battle—which the press, hostile as it
was to Masjumi, did not allow to pass unnoticed—took place be-
tween the Sukiman group on the one hand and the Prawoto group
on the other. And this battle covered the whole range of Mas-
jumi policies: the party stand on the rebellion, the problem
of constituent organizations of the party, and the issue of the
1945 Constitution. With dominant support from East and Central
Java branches and from a few younger leaders, Sukiman was in-
tent on bringing Masjumi back from the brink of oblivion and
forcing it to adjust to the turn of national politics. He and
Wibisono attacked the party view of the rebellion defended by
Prawoto and quietly sought a relaxation of the Islamic struggle
in the Konstituante for the sake of a political detente with
other non-Communist parties. At the same time they argued
37Pos Indonesia, Feb. 24 and 25, 1959.
38
The reply from Soekarno circles was that the People's
Consultative Assembly would later elect the President and Vice-
President· see the statement by Chaerul Saleh in Pos Indonesia,
March 2, 1959. Others either attacked Hatta, as the PKI did,
or argued that it was no longer necessary to have a vice-presi-
dent, as some PNI members did in the Konstituante.253
vigorously that Masjumi must support the return to the 1945
Constitution, for the Sukiman group saw this as the last hope
for the party to remain alive.39 Masjumi opposition to the re-
turn would be unlikely to prevent it and would only result in
pushing the party further beyond the political pale.
The conflict over these issues ran deep and quickly
took on the character of a Java-outer islands split. Several
party leaders, including Prawoto, were convinced that the future
of Masjumi lay in the powerfully Islamic outer islands, not in
Java. Therefore the rebellion could not be condemned, for that
would be a betrayal of strong Masjumi areas. Moreover, several
of the outer island delegations to the congress—particularly
from Atjeh, South Sulawesi, and South Kalimantan—as well as
part of the West Javanese group, insisted that the Islamic
struggle must be prosecuted with more, not less, determination.
Thus a majority of the congress inclined towards a stand on
principle, and many members privately accused the NU of oppor-
tunism in abandoning the interests of Islam and accepting the
cabinet decision. When it came to Guided Democracy and Soe-
karno, the Prawoto group, unlike Sukiman, Wibisono, and their
associates, found it nearly impossible to accept or trust
either one.
Prawoto was elected party chairman, defeating Sukiman
by a narrow majority.40 At the same time, the meeting voted
down an attempt by Wibisono to separate the SBII, Masjumi's
labor organization, from the party.41 But Wibisono and the SBII
39
When the cabinet decision was first announced, a press
report said that Sukiman*s reaction was truly enthusiastic? he
expressed his delight that a presidential cabinet would be
formed under the 1945 Constitution? he also said that the Pantja
sila was not in conflict with the teachings of Islam. See Pos
Indonesia, Feb. 24? Pesat, XV, no. 10 (March 7, 1959), 7. Soon
afterwards, however, Sukiman sent a telegram to Yunan Nasution
of the Masjumi party council declaring that he had not said
everything that was reported in the press? see Pos Indonesia,
Feb. 26, 1959. These were his views, nevertheless. For rather
full but biased reports on the conflicts at the Masjumi con-
gress, see Bintang Timur, April 29, May 2, 4, and 6? Sin Po,
April 29, 1959. Masjumi*s replies to Bintang Timur are in
Abadi, May 8 and 12, 1959.
40
Abadi, April 30, 1959. Sukiman was elected first
vice-chairman, Fakih Usman second vice-chairman, Moh. Roem
third vice-chairman. Yunan Nasution was elected secretary.
Other members included Anwar Harjono, Hasan Basri, and Osman
Raliby. The party council was heavily weighted in favor of
the Prawoto group.
41
It was generally agreed in the party that eventually
the constituent organizations should separate, but the issue254
took an independent stand in favor of the 1945 Constitution.
There was a good deal of feeling among Javanese members of the
party that Masjumi was a lost cause. To avoid an open split,
the congress worked out a compromise on policy that left the
party's position vague, as the PNI and others protested, though
still clear enough to place Masjumi firmly in the opposition
to the government. On the cabinet decision, the congress reso-
lution stated that there were three elements in the spirit of
the 1945 Constitutions "1) the Dwitunggal of Soekarno and
Hatta, 2) national unity, and 3) national peace"—the last two
meaning compromise with the rebels. The congress also demanded
that the Konstituante be allowed to continue its work of creat-
ing a new constitution. All Islamic parties were called upon
to unify their policies, "especially in carrying out the strug-
gle for the ideals of Islamic ideology." And, last, all Islamic
parties and other democratic parties were admonished to work
together to save democracy in Indonesia.42 Masjumi thus entered
the Constituent Assembly debates on the 1945 Constitution pre-
pared to make something of a last-ditch stand.
Meanwhile, the public response to the proposal to re-
store the 1945 Constitution was ambivalent. On the one hand,
though the country (or, better, the capital) was tense, divided,
and dismayed over the six months of bickering that had preceded
resolution of the crisis, on the whole the cabinet decision
evoked a favorable reaction. There was widespread feeling that
this was, as Yamin put it, a return to proper origins, and
there was a noticeable optimism that the Spirit of '45 might
yet revive and turn men to clean and honest living, unity, pro-
gress, discipline, and idealism. Many were confident, many
others hopeful, that Soekarno, Nasution, and the leaders around
them were sincere in their promises to reform and revitalize
the nation. Even among the opposition to Soekarno, within
was always a matter of timing. Wibisono continued to insist
that the SBII would leave the party organization—as it eventu-
ally did—though it would still cooperate with and support Mas-
jumi. Pedoman, May 11, 1959. Anwar Harjono debated the ques-
tion with Wibisono· see Pedoman, May 12? Abadi, May 12, 1959.
Harjono's view was essentially that no one should leave the
party in time of crisis. Wibisono felt that the SBII should
be saved from the fate of the party. Muhammadijah, the Islamic
educational foundation, was also anxious to leave the party
organization, and soon did. When Masjumi was finally banned
in August 1960, both the Muhammadijah and the SBII were per-
mitted to continue.
42
Abadi, April 30; Pedoman, April 29, 1959. In Bandung,
from April 27 to April 30, the Masjumi-related All Indonesian
Association of Former Armed Islamic Fighters [of the Revolu-
tion] also held a conference in which the Islamic struggle was
emphasized. See Abadi, May 15, 1959.255
Masjumi and the PSI for example# there were those who said that
if this was an honest effort to get the country back on the
right track# they would support the President.
On the other hand# there were grave fears among the
politically conscious that this was just another play in the
game of politics# whose rules had been in force too long to be
changed. It quickly became apparent that there would be no
transformation of political behavior. Groups began frenziedly
to maneuver for advantageous positions before the impending re-
structuring of the government. The rush to Soekarno's side#
in part compulsive but also largely opportunistic# proceeded
apace. When before the end of February it became clear that
the cabinet would return its mandate in July# the scramble
started for places in the new cabinet. In March and April
secret lists of prospective cabinet members were in circulation#
arousing the indignation of the independent press and evoking
an admonition from Information Minister Soedibjo that everyone
ought to be thinking about the return to 1945 rather than the
new cabinet that would follow. Some suspected that the restor-
ation of the 1945 Constitution was simply another ploy to avoid
the tough work of economic development. The doubts of commer-
cial circles were partially reflected in continued speculation
and rising prices. Party leaders—except from the PKI—seldom
talked about the people's suffering, as the press occasionally
pointed out, but rather resorted to ideological shibboleths
that contributed little to practical policy decisions.
No relaxation in tension followed the cabinet decision.
The "Return to 1945" campaign combined with a high pitch of
nationalist sentiment to create a volatile political temper.
Soekarno's appeals to radical and revolutionary symbolism were
repeated in the left-wing and radical nationalist press. Nasu-
tion and other officers insisted that ideological uniformity
was essential# that loyalty to the revolution should be re-
warded# and that those who had cooperated with the Dutch should
be weeded out of the government.43 The old order was constantly
under attack# and the new standards of political good came in-
creasingly into play.
An example of the temper of the times was the Schmidt
affair, which produced an uproar in Djakarta in March and April.
Schmidt was a Dutchman and an ex-member of the Netherlands-
Indies army who had been sentenced in 1956 to several years im-
prisonment for subversive activities. At the time# his case
and that of Jungschlager# who died before serving his sentence#
had created a furor in the national press and to some extent
in the world press. In March 1959# the Djakarta appeals court
reviewed the evidence in Schmidt's case and reduced his sentence
43
Waspada# April 13, 1959# a speech in Padang during
the celebration of the end of Ramadan# the month of fast.256
to the time already served. On direction of the Chief Prose-
cutor's office Schmidt was therefore released and, in order to
avoid a public reaction, he was quickly and secretly flown to
Holland with the help of the Dutch Consul, Ravensteyn. The
matter became a cause c^l&bre as soon as it was uncovered. The
court and Chief Prosecutor Soeprapto, a highly effective and
judicious official of long experience (and a member of the
National Council),were subjected to a merciless lashing in the
left-wing press for letting Schmidt go. Djuanda ordered a
government investigation, and Soeprapto was relieved of his
office as of April 1st, partly as a scapegoat.44 In his report
to Parliament on the affair, Djuanda declared that the Govern-
ment would use martial law powers to act against courts when
their decisions endangered national security.4^ This was the
first time the courts, generally respected and honest but a
distinct part of the old order, had come under such an attack
by the Government. Some defended the judiciary and Soeprapto,
but something of a pall set in around the often praised symbol
of "rule of law" (negara hukum). With the new Chief Prosecutor,
Gatot Tarunamihardja, appointed by Soekarno in mid-April, the
public prosecution began to lose its semi-independent character.
44
But not entirely? Soeprapto had long aroused antagon-
ism among cabinet leaders, at least since 1953 or 1954, for his
refusal to subordinate the public prosecution to political minis-
tries. In 1956-1957, his prosecution of Roeslan Abdulgani on
charges of foreign exchange violations, over the objections of
the Ali Cabinet, made him the object of considerable PNI resent-
ment. On the Schmidt affair see Ministry of Information,
Keterangan Pemerintah mengenai Penjelesaian Soal Schmidt (Gov-
ernment statement on the disposition of the Schmidt problem·
Djakarta, 1959). See also, Abadi, April 25, and Sin Po, April
1, 3, 8, 24, 1959? Sin Po carried on the most determined cam-
paign against Soeprapto, the appeals court, and the courts
generally.
45
Sin Po, April 24, 1959. At the same time, however,
Djuanda said that as the executive the cabinet had no authority
to interfere with the courts, though it expected the Supreme
Court would in future take all necessary steps to keep the lower
courts in line. Djuanda's statement was a strange mixture of
approaches to the position of the judiciary, reflecting, I
think, a transitionally ambivalent attitude towards the court
system during a time of "revolution." Partly of course he was
recognizing and accepting the powerful sentiments against the
courts aroused by the Schmidt case. The courts were not in
fact bothered a great deal afterwards until about the end of
the year, when increasing pressure was brought to bear on judges
to conform to the official ideology. Judges by and large re-
sisted these pressures longer than other official groups. Partly
at least this was because judges were as a group rather skilled
and confident practitioners with considerable pride in their
functions.257
The Constituent Assembly Debates
and the Decree of July 5th
Soekarno addressed the Constituent Assembly on April
22nd# as Bandung rocked with demonstrations of support for the
return to 1945. He warned against expecting too much from the
1945 Constitution. But this was a time/ said Soekarno/ to leave
text-book thinking/ to return to the revolution/ and to listen
to the Message of the People's Suffering.46 The 1945 Constitu-
tion would give Indonesia a permanent unitary state. And it
would eliminate dualism# especially the dualism of thought re-
garding whether or not the revolution was complete? it was not#
he declared# and the 1945 Constitution would in effect give
form to the ongoing revolution. It would lay the basis for the
implementation of Guided Democracy in which leadership would
be unified and government would be by musjawarah. The past ten
years of deviation and error would be cast aside. Soekarno
asked the Konstituante to accept the 1945 Constitution as it
was, preamble and body both, without any change.47
The next day Soekarno left the country on a two-month
world trip, provoking a few accusations that he was running
away precisely when his presence was most needed.48 His
46
Increasingly in 1959, as Soekarno rose more sharply
towards the peak of authority, and ideology became more import-
ant, these phrases—text-book thinking, the Message of the
People's Suffering (Amanat Penderitaan Rakjat, abbreviated to
AMPERA) and many more—quickly became common catchwords and
slogans, spread far and wide by the Ministry of Information and
the daily press. Another term of importance later in the year,
though Soekarno had used it in 1958, was "retooling," which re-
ferred to the need to rework government structure, try new ap-
proaches, and obtain new and better personnel. Possibly he
took the phrase—retooling for the future—from Vera Micheles
Dean's book, The Nature of the Non-Western World.
47
Soekarno's speech, entitled "Res Publical Sekali
Lagi, Res Publican" (Res Publical Once Again, Res PublicaJ),
was published by the Ministry of Information in both Indonesian
and English (Djakarta, 1959). The speech was drafted with the
help of a National Council committee headed by Sukarni, and it
was discussed by the National Council.
48
The trip had been planned a few months earlier, but
it is likely that Soekarno did in fact prefer being away during
crises of this sort. In the first place, he could thus avoid
the burden of responsibility for turns of events over which he
could not exercise full control. Second, he may have felt that
being out of the country made it easier to assess possibilities
as they developed at home. Third, by removing himself from
the scene, Soekarno could let contending forces battle it out258
departure also chagrined the cabinet and Constituent Assembly
leaders, who felt that he ought to see the 1945 Constitution
safely through the Assembly. Soekarno rejected these protests,
arguing that the trip constituted an important effort to make
Indonesia known to the world and that he also needed a rest.
Speaker of Parliament Sartono became acting president, but he
declared that significant measures could not be expected from
him: he was an acting constitutional president, said Sartono,
not an acting President Soekarno.49
With Soekarno1s speech as their focus, the debates in
the Assembly began April 29-30, continued May 4-6 and 11-13,
and ended May 25-26, the issue being put to a vote at the end
of the month. The debates were more tense and bitter than
vigorous. The commitments of the PNI and the PKI to the 1945
Constitution were mainly political, so that neither of these
parties had a great deal to say, though PKI speakers did ask
for guarantees of elections and the rights of Parliament. Among
other parties officially supporting the 1945 Constitution there
was considerable antagonism towards the Government, whose re-
fusal to consider amendments aroused in the Constituent Assembly
institutional pride and anger at the thought of two years work
going for nothing. The Government was attacked for making the
Constituent Assembly the scapegoat for its own failures. There
were lengthy comments on the inadequacies of the 1945 Constitu-
tion, and Soekarno was accused of desiring to create an author-
itarian or totalitarian state. On these questions individual
members of the Christian parties, Labor, and a few others spoke
out in defiance of party discipline, but it was Masjumi which
provided solidest opposition. Continuing their demands for
among themselves without using him as a weapon, sometimes
against his will. Soekarno1s yearly trips, aside from afford-
ing him an opportunity to meet and be met by foreign leaders,
and aside from being good entertainment for the fun-loving
President, also served other useful political functions. The
choice of the entourage--membership in which offered prestige—
was one means of building new political loyalties or influenc-
ing potential opponents. On this trip, thirty-one men joined
the President, including Subandrio, Supreme Court Chairman
Wirjono Prodjodikoro, Chaerul Saleh, and Col. Harun Sohar, com-
mandant of South Sumatra. See Pedoman, April 24; Pos Indonesia,
April 20, 1959. The countries visited on this trip included
Turkey, Poland, Sweden, Denmark, the Vatican, Brazil, Argentina,
Mexico, North Vietnam—Ho Chi Minh had visited Indonesia in
March—Japan, and Cambodia, with side trips to South Russia and
California. His earlier trips had covered the giants? the
United States, the Soviet Union, and China.
49Sin Po, April 23, 1959.259
Islamic principles, federalism, Hatta, and a new cabinet,
Masjumi leaders, fresh from the party conference a few days
earlier, assaulted Guided Democracy and with it the 1945 Con-
stitution, which the prominent party leader Hamka called the
road to hell for Indonesia.50 Prawoto demanded that the Assembly,
as a democratically elected body, be permitted to complete its
work in peace regardless of the fate of the 1945 Constitution.51
The Government was sure, however, of a solid core of
support—more than 280 seats out of less than 500—and a favor-
able vote by NU, with 90 seats, would push the total well past
the two-thirds majority required.52 Masjumi's 114 votes were
not enough to threaten the Government, and a few hostile minor
parties could also be ignored, including all the minor Islamic
parties (and of these the PSII even seemed likely, for a while,
to join NU in voting with the pro-1945 group). But these cal-
culations necessarily depended on NU support, and it soon became
clear that this was not as secure as Djuanda and others had
hoped.
The reason was that the issue of conflict in the Con-
stituent Assembly shifted almost immediately from the 1945
S^See Abadi, May 97 Bintang Timur, May 8, 9, 1959.
51
Abadi, May 6, 1959. Masjumi, said Prawoto, took its
stand on the defense of a State based on Law (rechtstaat) and
rejected a State based on Power (Machstaat). Summaries of the
Konstituante debates were published in two mimeographed volumes
by the Ministry of Information: Inti Sari pldato-pidato ang-
gauta Konstituante berkenaan dengan amanat President tanggal
22 April 1959 (Summaries of Speeches by Konstituante Members in
Connection with the Presidential Address of April 22, 19597
Djakarta, 1959). The first volume covers speeches made during
the first round of debates from April 29 through May 13, the
second volume the second round of May 25-26. See also Noto-
soetardjo, Kembali kepada Djiwa Proklamasi 1945, pp. 259-298,
522-554. The debates received full and excited coverage in the
daily press, the arguments raging outside as well as inside
the Konstituante.
52
No more than 470 of the more than 500 elected to the
Konstituante participated in these debates. The majority re-
quired for passage of substantive issues was two-thirds of
those attending and fulfilling a quorum. Parties expected
definitely to vote for the 1945 Constitution were the PNI (117),
the PKI (59), Republic Proklamasi (a combination of parties)
(21), Parkindo (18), Katholik (11), PSI (8), Persatuan Irian
Barat (5), GPPS (4), and several other minor parties, some of
which, however, were divided on the issue. Of the Islamic par-
ties other than Masjumi and NU, the PSII had 17 seats, Perti 7,
Akui 1, PPTI 1. See Suluh Indonesia, May 16, 1959.260
Constitution to Islam, and once ideology held the center of the
stage, the 1945 Constitution became a highly questionable pro-
position. At the time, many Assembly leaders were convinced
that the Government had wrecked its chances by permitting this
to happen.53 it is true that during this period the Govern-
ment's strategy with respect to Islam was blundering and in-
sensitive, both in and out of the Assembly. But one has to
ask whether it was really possible to avoid the religious-ideo-
logical issue, and the answer seems to be no. For not only
was the Konstituante the very forum of ideological debate, the
altar of Islamic hopes and the Islamic struggle, but moreover
the ideological debate itself was ripe for resolution. That is
to say, the Islamic parties were politically weak—Masjumi's
strength was sapped by its connection with the PRRI and NU's
leadership was manipulable--and the sources of Islamic power,
though potentially great, were otherwise unarticulated. There-
fore the time had come for political Islam to give way before
the power of political secularism. However vaguely others may
have perceived this dialectic, Soekarno probably understood it
and was prepared to follow it. The impotence of Islam as a
political force at this time made compromise with it unnecessary,
and none came about in the Constituent Assembly. But the re-
sult, perceived in historical perspective, probably differed
little from what would have ensued had the Constituent Assembly
followed another course in 1959.
Idham had agreed to the cabinet decision of February
19th without consulting the party council; nor, apparently,
were any of the NU ministers frank in discussing the matter
outside of the innermost circle of the party leadership. They
53
The following comment, paraphrased, was made to me
by a PSI leader in the Konstituante on June 1st, while the 1945
Constitution was still being voted on: "The whole of the poli-
tics of the Konstituante with respect to the return to 1945 plan
has been badly mismanaged by the Government. The issue of Islam
vs. Pantjasila should never have been raised or allowed to be-
come crucial. The Government doesn't realize its own limita-
tions. They've seen the Darul Islam trouble go as yet unsolved.
The PRRI broke out and the government is still trying to push
the Moslems further. Once the Islamic groups began to see the
'return' plan as a move against the Moslems, they of course had
to stand on principle. And this includes the NU." It is with
this view, held by many, that I take issue. Another comment
by a long time government official, who had for many years
served close to Soekarno but no longer agreed with him, seems
to me to be closer to the truth: "Soekarno knew that the
Pantjasila-Islam dispute would arise again the Konstituante,
but he had to send it through that body to eliminate the last
of the obstacles in his way by proving that it [the Konstituante]
could only obstruct and procrastinate and not get anything done."
Sept. 2, 1959.261
appear to have reckoned on party adherence to the decision out
of faith in Idham, Wahab Chasbullah, and Zainul Arifin; and if
any serious doubts arose, an appeal could be made to the neces-
sity that NU not allow itself to be isolated out of the govern-
ment. NU had never had serious trouble with factionalism or
party revolts, for it was too solidly based on interest and
suffered none of the schisms of principle that result from in-
tellectual leadership. But this time the opportunism of na-
tional NU leaders overreached itself. Their apparently sudden
willingness to surrender the Islamic struggle threatened to
dissolve entirely the essential ideological bond that permitted
NU to justify itself as a party. In late February and March
several NU regional leaders protested that Idham had no right
to take so important a decision without consulting them first.54
The East Javanese NU, most powerful branch in the party, was
joined by such of the younger national party leaders as Imron
Rosjadi to demand that an emergency session of the party coun-
cil be called to discuss the issue. This meeting was held in
Patjet (Tjiandjur) on March 26-29, with about 80 council mem-
bers, MP's, Konstituante members, and Ministers attending.
Over the opposition of a large and vociferous minority who in-
sisted that NU must press for an Islamic constitution, Idham
was able to get the party council's endorsement of his commit-
ment to the cabinet.55 But the endorsement was no carte
blanche, several regional leaders demurring tentatively while
they "sent out feelers" into the party ranks. Idham, however,
satisfied that NU members in the Konstituante would vote as
directed, or perhaps afraid that they would not, went off on
a hadj trip to Mecca while the party cauldron began to boil.
With Idham away, NU's lack of enthusiasm for the secular
constitution of 1945 became glaringly obvious. Fearing lower
echelon reactions, NU leaders urged the Government to tone down
the campaign to return to 1945. In East Java, NU joined with
Masjumi in refusing to participate in a mass rally supporting
the return to 1945.56 Regional NU leaders were apparently
54Java Post, March 20, 1959.
55
For this NU won the praise of the PNI, the PKI, and
several government leaders, including Roeslan Abdulgani, all
of whom were anxious to keep NU from being influenced by Mas-
jumi. See Puta Masjarakat, March 31; Suluh Indonesia, March 31;
Harlan Rakjat, April 1; Sin Po, April 17, 1959.
56
See Perdamaian, April 15; Trompet Masjarakat, April
17; Suara Rakjat, April 18, 1959. It was in response to an
invitation to speak at this rally that Soekarno, in refusing,
said he would not attempt to influence the people one way or
the other. Apart from other reasons of limited time, the
President probably did not want to go to East Java, where the
opposition to him continued to be disturbingly vociferous. In262
assured by the army command in East Java, however, that their
opposition to the 1945 Constitution on religious grounds would
not bring harm to the party.57 Meanwhile, in and out of the
Konstituante, NU was under dogged and fervent pressure from
Masjumi to obey the call of the Faith. The accusations fre-
quently heard about NU opportunism, and Masjumi charges that
Idham and NU were selling Islam down the river, appear to have
stung painfully, particularly as it seemed to many NU members
that this was in fact the case.58 This pressure was much
stronger than the sotto voce threats from government and army
circles against NU members who refused to support the 1945 Con-
stitution without amendments.59 in April, Wilopo received
any event, NU praised Soekarno's attitude, agreeing that the
people's spirit should not be set ablaze while the Konstituante
was discussing the 1945 Constitution.
57
This at least was rumored by different sources during
the Konstituante debates, which i attended in late May. It is
quite possible that Col. Sarbini, who was more sympathetic to
the parties generally (except for the PKI) than most officers
and apparently got on very well with East Javanese NU leaders,
told them that their position in the Konstituante was their own
affair, and that it would make no difference in their relations
in East Java.
58
During the Masjumi conference in April the left-wing
news service, INPS, reported remarks by Masjumi members that
the NU's support of the cabinet decision proved that party's
utter opportunism. See Bintang Timur, May 2, 1959. One or two
NU leaders, including K. H. Muslich, parliamentary leader and
member of the party council, immediately replied with attacks
on Masjumi's involvement in the rebellion and, going much fur-
ther, warned Masjumi that if it refused to accept the President's
proposal to return to 1945 it would place itself forever outside
the pale. On behalf of the executive council of NU, however,
Achmad Sjaichu disavowed Muslich's views, saying that they would
divide the Islamic parties. Sjaichu declared that the NU would
not heed the INPS reports until proved. Abadi, May 6, 1959.
59
See speech by K. Η. M. Sjukri (NU) in the Konstituante,
Abadi, May 2. On May 28 Abadi reported rumors of blackmailing
activities against opponents of the 1945 Constitution and called
on the Government for appropriate preventive measures. Pro-
Government newspapers kept up constant pressure on NU to honor
its commitment. On March 15 the Sunday newspaper, Berita Mlnggu,
had revealed charges of corruption against NU cabinet ministers,
to which Duta Masjarakat, March 19, replied defensively to the
effect that precisely at this critical time when the nation
wanted to restore the 1945 Constitution and the Djakarta Char-
ter, and when the fate of 85 million Indonesians hung in the
balance, slanderous campaigns were begun against two ministers
of the Kabinet Karya. See also Duta Masjarakat, March 17, 1959,
which accused Berita Minggu of resorting to blackmail.263
indications from NU members in the Konstituante that the party-
might not honor Idham's commitment.
By the beginning of May, the Government was still con-
fident that NU leaders were too well aware of the possible con-
sequences to allow their party to vote against the 1945 Consti-
tution. But when the Constituent Assembly debates began, the
fires of the Islamic issue, with fuel poured on by Masjumi,
were blazing within the NU representation. NU leaders who
wanted to support the Government were compelled to join their
lower echelons in defending the ideology· otherwise they risked
being trampled underfoot in a rank and file revolt led by those
few leaders who had disagreed with Idham from the start. Anx-
ious to avoid identification with Masjumi, however, several NU
leaders went out of their way in late April and May to attack
that party, to speak out more loudly than usual against com-
promise with the PRRI, and to emphasize their indifference to
Hatta.^O But although Masjumi spoke more vehemently on more
issues—at times Islam hardly seemed the chief interest of
Masjumi leaders, while for the NU it was the central issue^^--
on Islam the parties of the Faith came together. The PSII,
which had wavered, joined the Islamic camp again in May.^2
The immediate issue on which the Assembly debates turned
was the significance to be given to the Djakarta Charter, with
its command that Moslems practice the Islamic Sjariah. As
Djuanda had somewhat evasively defined it, the Government's
position was that the Djakarta Charter would be recognized as
an historical document, prior in date to the Constitution it-
self and having an influence on the spirit of the constitution,
but it would have no organic relation to the constitution and
therefore would be without imperative legal force.Islamic
A 0
Statement by Wahab Chasbullah (Rois Aam) in reponse
to the decisions of the Masjumi conference in April. Suluh
Indonesia, April 30, 1959.
61
A symbolic compromise on Islam might have satisfied
many NU members, but it would have been meaningless for Masjumi,
which was threatened with permanent political displacement.
For an illustration of the differences between Masjumi and NU
on the proposal to restore the 1945 Constitution, see the ques-
tions of Anwar Harjono (Masjumi) and Achmad Sjaichu (NU) in
Parliament in March in Ministry of Information, Kembali ke
Undang-Undang Dasar 1945, pp. 73-87, 127-131.
62Antara, May 25, 1959. The PSII, like NU and unlike
Masjumi, emphasized its support of the 1945 Constitution, but
insisted that the Djakarta Charter must be part of it.
A
See Djuanda1s replies to questions in Parliament in
Ministry of Information, Kembali ke Undang-Undang Dasar 1945,
pp. 82, 129. One of Djuanda1s carefully drafted points was264
groups# however# demanded a substantive expression of the role
of Islam in the state—in other words that the Djakarta Charter
be incorporated as the preamble to the constitution. To avoid
the interpretation that preambles are not binding, NU members
stood in the Konstituante in May to insist that the obligation
of Moslems to follow the Islamic law must be fitted into article
29 of the 1945 Constitution# dealing with religion.θ4 This
single concession would enable NU to vote for the 1945 Consti-
tution. But for secular groups# and especially the Catholics
and Protestants, this prospect immediately conjured up visions
of religious oppression and Islamic fanaticism.The Islamic
law clause in the Djakarta Charter was not interpreted by Is-
lamic leaders as a permissive rule# and it was for this reason
that the many nominal Moslems of the secular parties objected
to giving it legal force.θθ Thus within a short time the
that "on the basis of [the 'obligation' clause in the Djakarta
Charter] laws can be made for the adherents of Islam which can
be brought into line with the Islamic SJariah."
64
See the speech by H. Saifuddin Zuhri in Ministry of
Information, Inti Sari Pidato# pp. 43-46? see also Suluh Indo-
nesia# May 6# 1959. Article 29 said: (1) The State shall be
based upon Belief in the One, Supreme God. (2) The State shall
guarantee freedom to every resident to adhere to his respective
religion and to perform his religious duties in conformity with
that religion and that faith. (Department of Information trans-
lation# in The Indonesian Revolution: Basic Documents and the
Idea of Guided Democracy LDjakarta# 1960?J# a very useful col-
lection# with comments on the origins of the documents included.)
See Sin Po# May 6? Suluh Indonesia# May 13# 1959.
GG
The official translation of the Djakarta Charter puts
the pertinent clause this ways "the structure of Indonesia's
National Independence shall be formulated in a Fundamental Law
of the Indonesian State which shall have the structural state
form of a Republic of Indonesia with sovereignty of the People#
and which shall be based upon: Belief in God# with the obliga-
tion of practising the laws of Islam for the adherents of that
religion." See Ministry of Information# The Indonesian Revolu-
tion: Basic Documents# p. 54. The precise meaning of this
clause has been argued. The original Indonesian (dengan
kewadjiban mendjalankan sjari'at Islam bagi pemeluk-pemeluknja)
seems to imply that the obligation is encumbent upon each Mos-
lem himself? thus# as most non-Islamic party leaders argued# it
was moral and unenforceable. Islamic leaders assumed# on the
other hand, that the obligation must be enforced by the state#
so that a closer translation of the clause as they understood
it would be: "with the obligation to apply the sjari1 at to
the adherents of Islam."265
Constituent Assembly was back on familiar ground debating the
great issues of ideology, while the 1945 Constitution's two-
thirds majority melted away into improbability.
The Government became frantic when it realized this,
and Djuanda rushed to Bandung to cajole, discuss, and argue
with NU leaders. But on May 12th Zainul Arifin, joining the
tide that he had been unable to stem, presented the definitive
party stand in the Constituent Assembly. Rejecting the notion
that the Djakarta Charter was merely an historical document,
Zainul argued on the contrary that it was the prime document,
the very source of the fundamental norms of the state. He pro-
posed that the Djakarta Charter be incorporated into the Ban-
dung Charter—the already drafted instrument of promulgation
of the 1945 Constitution—and made binding for the government
in the creation of new law.67 This was too much for secular
groups to accept. On May 21st Djuanda replied to questions
raised during the debates, going as far as he believed possible
in offering concessions to Islam.θθ He went about a fourth of
the way to meeting Zainul Arifin's demands by agreeing to in-
corporate the Djakarta Charter in full into the Bandung Charter,
but without the dictum that it must comprise the fundamental
source of law in the state.69 This symbolic gesture did not
Abadi, May 13, 14, 15, 1959. Ministry of Information,
Inti Sari Pidato, pp. 134-135. Actually this may have been in-
tended as a subtle compromise; for the 1945 Constitution would
not have to be amended, and the Bandung Charter could later be
relegated to a position of symbolic significance. But Zainul's
"fundamental norm" notion worried secular groups.
68
See Notosoetardjo, Kembali kepada Djiwa Proklamasi
1945, pp. 324-382, for Djuanda's speech; also Pedoman, May 22;
Sin Po, May 21; Pos Indonesia, May 21, 1959. As in Parliament,
Djuanda dealt with a broad range of questions posed by the Kon-
stituante members, including those concerned with Guided Democ-
racy, Hatta—with respect to whom Djuanda said that it was well
known that the Government had done all it could to bring Hatta
back into the government, but without success—and the past
difficulties of the government. He assured the members that
the Government was determined to restore the 1945 Constitution
by constitutional means, and that it had never considered simply
decreeing the early constitution into effect. It was a moderate
speech, but a firm one.
69
See Sin Po, May 21, 1959, for the new draft of the
Bandung Charter. Konstituante decisions on the territory of
the state, the flag, national language, national anthem, and a
few other matters were also to be incorporated into the Bandung
Charter in an attempt to assuage the anger of those who felt
that the Konstituante was being treated shoddily.266
satisfy Islamic leaders, who continued during the second round
of debates, on May 25-26, to demand substantive significance
for the Djakarta Charter.
By this time the ideological issue had precedence over
all others, and the daily press was filled with the contending
arguments and a feverish counting of likely votes. Immense
pressure was brought to bear on NU, which the pro-Government
press accused of giving in to Masjumi and of defaulting on
Idham's commitment to the cabinet.70 outside the Assembly,
IPKI, at this time working quite closely with a number of army
officers, concluded a party conference in Lembang with the
threat that if the Konstituante did not accept the 1945 Consti-
tution IPKI would take revolutionary steps—i.e., it would ap-
proach the President and the army to urge abolition of the
Konstituante and the decreeing of the 1945 Constitution into
effect.71 while Masjumi leaders rushed about stiffening the
Islamic line before the voting began on May 29th, Nasution
called yet another military conference to decide what measures
should be taken in the event of an impasse in the Constituent
Assembly.72 Djuanda sent out a call to Idham, who had just re-
turned from Mecca, to hurry to Bandung to corral his party.
But Idham could do nothing. On May 27th, Djuanda delivered
another and very strongly worded plea to the Constituent Assem-
bly. Before a tense overflow crowd, he warned that unless the
1945 Constitution were accepted, the nation faced grave possi-
bilities ϊ that the cabinet would resign, with nothing better
in sight; that Parliament might be dissolved, with elections
unlikely to be held; that even if Parliament continued, relations
70
See, e.g., Sin Po, May 19, 28, 29, 1959.
71
Pedoman, May 25; Sin Po, May 23, 1959; see also Pesat,
XV, no. 22 (May 30, 1959). The IPKI conference decisions made
the headlines just before the second round of debates began in
the Konstituante and were played up in the pro-Government press
as a warning to NU, whose leaders were worrying quite a lot
about what would happen to them if the party voted against the
1945 Constitution.
At the IPKI conference Dr. Gunawan was elected party
chairman and Soegirman first vice-chairman. Less a party than
a collection of men with old army ties and no structured pro-
gram, IPKI was vehemently anti-Communist and, so to speak, pro-
army. To some extent, army leaders used it as a vehicle for
initiating new political moves, with the result that it began
to play a more important role in Djakarta politics. Soegirman,
a Djakarta building contractor and an old friend of Nasution,
though the two men were no longer extremely close, was especial-
ly active politically during these months.
72
Pos Indonesia, Bintang Timur, Sin Po, May 29, 1959.267
between it and the Government would suffer because of the Kon-
stituante tensions; and, finally, that under these conditions
Indonesia might have the same experience as "several neighbor-
ing states"—again the threat of a coup—which no lover of
democracy wanted.73 The speech had an impressive impact on
the audience. Kiaji Masjkur of NU stood up immediately after-
wards and shook hands with Djuanda and the other ministers
present at the podium, causing some confusion as to whether
this meant NU would or would not support the 1945 Constitution.
The Constituent Assembly parties held hurried caucuses the
same night, NU being the first to do so. But the hope that NU
might yet swing around under pressure proved groundless when
the voting began two days later.
Following a long hassle on procedure, in which the pro-
1945 parties dominated by simple majority, the Konstituante
decided to vote first on an amendment proposal by NU, supported
by Masjumi and the other Islamic parties, that the Djakarta
Charter be incorporated as the preamble and into the body of
the constitution. Thereafter three votes would be taken on the
constitution, the hope being that this would offer NU members
time to change their minds.'4 On the night of the 29th, how-
ever, when the Islamic proposal was before the Assembly, Wahab
Chasbullah made an emotional appeal to the Konstituante that
the amendment was not much to ask, but it was the minimum that
Islamic groups could accept. If it were rejected, he warned,
the Islamic bloc would vote against the 1945 Constitution 100
per cent, even should that mean "inviting a military junta, if
that is really what is desired."75 But the amendment was still
defeated, 265 against 201, and this, for all practical purposes,
sealed the fate of the 1945 Constitution in the Constituent
Assembly. On the next day, in the packed and excited hall, the
first vote was taken on the Constitutions 269 were in favor,
199 opposed, the two-thirds majority nowhere in sight.76 The
73
Pos Indonesia, Sin Po, May 28, 1959.
74
For the best discussion of procedural maneuvers in
the Konstituante before the balloting, see Pesat, XV, no. 23
(June 6, 1959), 3-6. See also Ministry of Information, special
issue 57, Keterangan Pemerintah tentang penjelesaian andjuran
Presiden/Pemerintah untuk kembali kepada Undang-Undang Dasar
1945 (Djuanda's report to Parliament on July 6; Djakarta, Ϊ959).
75
Pos Indonesia, Sin Po, May 30, 1959. Possibly, Mas-
jumi joined in sponsoring the amendment proposal in the reali-
zation that it would be defeated, and that this would make cer-
tain the rejection of the 1945 Constitution. See Pesat, cited
supra, n. 74, p. 5.
7 6
Pos Indonesia, Sin Po, May 30, 1959.268
vote was made an open one, in the hope that NU members would
be too fearful of retaliation to cast their ballots against
the Government. This strategy having failed, the second vote,
on June 1st, was closed, so that NU could turn under the cover
of secrecy. The result was even worse? 264 in favor, 204 op-
posed. On June 2nd the last vote was public again: 263 sup-
ported the 1945 Constitution, 203 opposed it, and two ab-
stained. 77 All last minute efforts to reverse the NU stand
had failed.
Following this final vote, a proposal by the GPPS,
IPKI, Murba, and the PKI to dissolve the Constituent Assembly
was turned down, and by acclamation it was decided to recess
for a few weeks.78 wilopo said that discussions would be held
with the Government concerning future sessions, but although
some members, particularly from Masjumi and NU, believed that
the Konstituante would go on to complete its work, many others
doubted that it would ever meet again. Before the members de-
parted for home within the next few days, Masjumi took the in-
itiative in getting an agreement among the Islamic parties
that they would stick together, whatever the consequences, to
continue the Islamic struggle. But Masjumi alone left the
session feeling victorious in the defense of principle, secure
in the knowledge that the next step was up to the Government.
NU leaders, fearful of their political future, called for re-
newed efforts to seek a compromise? and Idham, admitting to
some strain in his relations with the Government and with his
own party, publicly denied that he would resign the leadership
of NU.79
The outcome of the Constituent Assembly debates created
a new and delicate situation. With the failure of the consti-
tutional solution, the supporters of the return to 1945 were
faced with the alternatives of extra-constitutionalism or de-
feat. This was a particularly painful choice for the parties,
whose ambivalence was obvious during much of June. On the one
hand they did not want to see the elected assembly ignored, be-
cause of the precedent this would create, but on the other hand
this was a secondary political consideration for those fully
77
Suluh Indonesia, Pedoman, June 3, 1959.
78
Suluh Indonesia, June 3, 1959. The PKI was more con-
servative in its language than the GPPS, IPKI, and Murba, each
of which demanded outright that the Konstituante abolish itself
in view of its failure to break the impasse. Anwar Sanusi said
that the PKI still wanted to restore the 1945 Constitution by
constitutional means, but if the two contending sides continued
to face one another off, there would be no other choice than
abolition of the Konstituante.
79
Abadi, June 3, 1959.269
committed to Soekarno's program. Although the PNI was at first
relatively uncertain and cautious, the PKI joined others on
the radical nationalist left in demanding popular action to
retrieve the 1945 Constitution, arguing that it had been ap-
proved by a majority of the Konstituante and that this was
enough to make it valid, procedural niceties notwithstanding.80
Against this, the PSI for one protested that to foresake con-
stitutional procedures would open up a pandora's box in which
would be found, among other evils, the isolation of the Islamic
parties to the advantage of the PKI? moreover, it would wreck
any chance of achieving the political stability which had been
hoped from the return to the 1945 Constitution, and the politi-
cal tension that must result would hardly guarantee a return
to the spirit of 1945.θΐ
There was really no question, however, of the Govern-
ment, Soekarno, and army leaders bowing stoically to the set-
back. Quite apart from the momentum the return to 1945 campaign
had achieved and the fact that Soekarno's prestige was at stake,
the factors at work in producing the compromise of February
still obtained, and the decision to submit the matter to the
Constituent Assembly was one even then of discretion. The
cabinet, army officers, and acting President Sartono continued
to speak of the return to 1945 as the only effective answer to
national decline. But there was no immediate consensus on how
to get around the impasse. Roeslan and Djuanda tortuously de-
nied that the Assembly had actually rejected all of the Presi-
dent's proposal, Roeslan warning that the consequences of such
a view were too inimical to contemplate.82 With Soekarno away,
80
See Harian Rakjat, Pemuda, Bintang Timur, Sin Po,
June 1, 1959. But see also Bintang Timur, June 4, for the view
that despite its deficiencies the Konstituante was an elected
body and that its fate ought not to be considered too quickly
or lightly. PKI leaders, despite their surface radicalism, took
the same view. Apart from the precedent abolition of the Kon-
stituante might set, there was also the consideration that the
PKI, as well as other parties, did not want the result of past
deliberations forgotten, especially with respect to constitu-
tional guarantees of civil and political rights.
81
Pedoman, June 3, 1959. Pedoman and similarly inclined
journals called for a careful reconsideration of the entire
1945 Constitution issue with calm and concern for legality.
Masjumi continued to hold the Konstituante up as the apotheosis
of democracy in action, proposing that the only course to fol-
low, once the Konstituante had made its decision, was for the
cabinet to resign, so that the Government could set about deal-
ing with pressing economic problems. Abadi, June 6, 1959.
Masjumi leaders realized, however, that this was unlikely to
happen, and few other parties considered the idea seriously.
82
Pos Indonesia, June 3; Suluh Indonesia, June 8, 1959.
Roeslan offered the argument that since a two-thirds vote was270
however, the Government, not having made plans to cover all
eventualities, was unable to do much more than discuss the
problem and counsel calm. Following the first vote in the Kon-
stituante, Roeslan had flown to report to Soekarno, who made
it clear that even in this situation he would not cut his trip
short and so would not be back in Djakarta before the end of
June.83
Meanwhile the army assumed control of events. As had
apparently been decided a few days earlier at the army confer-
ence, on June 3rd Nasution slapped a formidable prohibition on
all political activities, partly to prevent frayed political
tempers from bursting out into violence but primarily in order
to freeze the situation.Political organizations were not
outlawed—as the PKI was quick to emphasize—but all political
meetings were banned, the parties were enjoined from ideological
necessary to reject the 1945 Constitution, it could not be said
to have been rejected. This statement was given while Roeslan
was in Manila. Djuanda restricted himself to saying that the
Konstituante action was not the final end of the matter.
83
The Government and Roeslan were reluctant to ask Soe-
karno to come back, feeling that he was not yet prepared to do
so. From Hollywood Soekarno let it be known that if he had
thought the situation at home was urgent he would not have left
in the first place. There was still much time, said his aide,
to discuss the return to 1945 when he returned (PIA, June 4,
1959). On June 6th Soekarno arrived in Tokyo, to stay until
the 20th, the first four days being an official visit. It was
in Tokyo that he received most reports from Djakarta and made
his decisions about what to do on his return. From Tokyo he
was to go to Cambodia. Many felt strongly that Soekarno ought
to return quickly. See Trompet Masjarakat, June 3. The PNI
paper, Suluh Indonesia, June 2, objected to various ministers
being abroad and away from their offices at this critical time.
84
The threat of violence was real, particularly in
Bandung, where local and area PKI and Masjumi youth groups had
moved into the city during the final stages of the Konstituante
debates. Col. Kosasih, commandant of West Java, ordered post-
ers put up by the PKI to be torn down, both in order to pre-
vent the GPU (Masjumi youth organization) from doing so and
also to try and deter the PKI from taking any initiative in
post-Konstituante developments. There were frequent warnings
from the Government about permitting tensions to get out of
hand. Before he left for a conference on cooperatives in
Sweden, Hatta advised the nation to keep a cool head in the
tense conditions following the Konstituante session (Sin Po,
June 7, 1959).271
propaganda of any kind and from discussing the pros and cons
of the return to 1945, religious leaders were ordered to keep
their sermons religious, and although Parliament was permitted
to sit, the press was told to be selective in reporting its
debates.85 Constituent Assembly members left Bandung on the
warning that to remain there might be construed as political
activity. Press restrictions were tightened. Djuanda said
that Nasution had acted with the Government's knowledge; and
the parties ordered their ranks to comply fully with the regu-
lation. θθ The drastic measure was greeted with some approval,
even by a few party leaders, for it did have the effect of
slightly relieving tension; but it also encouraged new specula-
tion, already rife, about a coup.
Many people had half expected army leaders to choose
this time for a coup, and within Masjumi, the PSI, IPKI, and
related regional groups sentiment was growing that this might
be a welcome development in that it would force a rapid show-
down with the PKI and swing the pendulum back to the right.87
85
Major Harsono, army information officer, stated that
party newspapers were forbidden to discuss ideological matters,
whether Marxism-Leninism, Islam—as a political ideology, not
as a religion, it was carefully explained—or the Pantjasila.
Pedoman, Sin Po, June 4, 1959. But in fact the Pantjasila was
tacitly excepted, and Nasution himself continued to praise it
as the best of all ideologies, for example on Pantjasila Day
(Suluh Indonesia, June 8).
8 6
Duta Masjarakat, June 3; Suluh Indonesia, June 6;
Bintang Timur, June 9, 1959. On the Central Military Authority
Regulation, see Pos Indonesia, June 3; Pesat, XV, no. 24 (June
13, 1959), 3; Himpunan Lembaran Penguasa Perang Pusat (Gazette
of the Central Military Authority), no. 24, 1959, for the full
text. In the elucidation of this regulation, it was stated that
"the Army Chief-of-Staff is aware that the provisional consti-
tution guarantees basic rights, the freedom of a person to em-
brace an ideology, to choose a political line of thought [allran],
to become a member of a political party, and to undertake polit-
ical activities. But in connection with the debates in the
Konstituante on the return to the 1945 Constitution, it is clear
that those political activities have had undesirable effects
on public order and security, for there were intimidations and
threats."
87
Whereas the PKI frequently and anxiously denied that
army leaders wanted a coup, several Masjumi editorials during
June hinted at the possibility of a coup in terms that were
not entirely unfavorable. See Abadi, June 5, 6. Later in the
month, partly in reaction to the (sometimes fulsome) praise
that was being heaped on Soekarno and the Government's tendency
to put everything in Soekarno's hands, Abadi ran a long editorial272
The fact that several officers, particularly in the regions,
had given assurances that no harm would befall the Islamic par-
ties, combined with the anti-PKI bent of the officer corps,
daily in evidence, increasingly encouraged right-wing groups
to see their future as dependent upon the army. But as before,
the officer corps remained divided on political issues of the
highest magnitude—the position of Soekarno most of all—and
Nasution himself was reluctant even to consider taking over the
government. In Soekarno1s absence, however, Nasution was pre-
pared to maintain a tight grip on all developments, to keep
the parties caged up, to make it impossible not to adopt the
1945 Constitution, and to put the army in a position of great
influence in the Government that would follow. In response to
the undercurrent of coup scare during June, army officers re-
iterated their support of Soekarno—the captain of the ship,
one announcement called him—and of the return to 1945.®®
Under the surface calm enforced by the ban on political
activities, Nasution stepped into the breach to rescue the 1945
Constitution, maintaining the year-long army initiative in this
quest. As soon as the Konstituante stalled, he turned to the
alternative of forcing Soekarno to decree the constitution into
effect. The possibility of a decree had been mentioned by pro-
Government groups during the debates, and the PKI seemed on the
verge of starting a campaign to that end when all political
activities were banned.®® But Nasution was apparently determined
on June 23, the anniversary of Napoleon's fall from power, which
Abadi ascribed to his deviation—albeit with a desire to save
France—from the constitution. See also Surabaja Post and
Suara Rakjat, June 1, for comments on the possibility of a coup.
Suara Rakjat doubted that there would be a coup but eschewed
prediction:	"So far as we are concerned, be it a military
government or parliamentary government, it will not be objec-
tionable provided it consists of good, capable men." (USIS
Surabaja Press Summary.) Few, however, were convinced that a
military government would necessarily bring vast improvements,
though many were satisfied that it would at least reduce the
power of the PKI and restrict Soekarno.
88
See Suluh Indonesia, June 4, 6, 13, 1959. See also
Pos Indonesia, June 14, 1959, for a statement by Col. Jani in
Karachi that the army did not intend a coup.
89
The alternative of using a decree had been mentioned
as early as April by Soedarisman Poerwokoesoemo, the PNI mayor
of Jogjakarta. See his articles in Pesat, XV, no. 16 (April 18,
1959), 10-12, and Mimbar Indonesia, XIII, no. 22/23 (June 3,
1959), 3-6. Like many others, Soedarisman had praised the Gov-
ernment's decision to restore the 1945 Constitution by constitu-
tional procedures but then saw no alternative but a decree when
the Konstituante bogged down. The June seminar on the 1945
Constitution held in Jogjakarta also suggested that a decree be
used following the Konstituante decision.273
that the army should take the credit and reap the political
benefit of pushing the 1945 Constitution through. Within the
officer corps, opinion in favor of a decree was rapidly built
up. On June 3rd, a day after the Constituent Assembly recessed,
the Military-Youth Cooperation Body resolved that Soekarno
should resort to a decree, and on the same day an Inter-Genera-
tion of '45 Action Committee, of which Brig. Gen. Soengkono was
a prominent member, cabled Soekarno to the same effect.90 A
few days later, probably on his own initiative, Brig. Gen.
Djatikusumo declared in Singapore that the time had come to
stop fooling around and, for the sake of political stability,
to decree the 1945 Constitution into effect.91 In early June,
Nasution and Deputy Chief-of-Staff Gatot Soebroto held talks
with party leaders to win their backing for this course.
They did not have a great deal of difficulty in con-
vincing the parties. Masjumi of course did not approve the
idea and, with the failing enthusiasm of a lost cause, continued
to speak of the Constituent Assembly as the place to decide all
constitutional issues. But NU leaders looked upon a decree as
an admirable solution to their problems, for it would rescue
them from another round in the Konstituante. Just after the
vote in the Assembly, Wahab Chasbullah himself had suggested
that two courses of action were possible—a military junta or
a decree—making NU one of the earliest parties to mention a
decree.92 Having served its obligation to defend Islam in the
Konstituante, NU, by supporting a decree, could still hope to
retain a place in the Government, thus enjoying the best of
both worlds.93 idham was advised by Djuanda and Nasution to
90
See B.K.S.-P.M. Menjongspng Kembali ke U.U.D. '45
(The Military-Youth Cooperation Body Supports the Return to the
Constitution of '45; published in Djakarta by the executive
board of the PKS-PM, 1959), pp. 156-167. The cable was sent
before the third vote in the Konstituante. See also Suluh
Indonesia, June 3, 1959.
91
Suluh Indonesia, June 8, 1959.
92
Duta Masjarakat, June 1, 1959. Harian Rakjat, June
3, commented on Wahab's remark in an editorial entitled "Is
NU's Rois Aam Proposing a Way Out?" It stated that Wahab must
prefer a presidential decree to a military junta, and then
said that a decree by the President would be a responsible and
constitutional action.
93
The agreement forged by Masjumi among the Islamic
parties after the Konstituante debates was ignored both by NU
and the PSII. Some in Masjumi had feared this would happen.
As one Masjumi leader told me: "Masjumi was able to keep NU
in line on the return to the 1945 issue despite the position
of its leadership. But then when the Konstituante recessed,274
say nothing more for the duration about the Konstituante debacle
or the Islamic issue, and in this NU leaders complied, concen-
trating their attention on the future cabinet. As for the PNI
and the PKI, both were already agreed in principle on abandon-
ing the Constituent Assembly, for they had to continue to sup-
port the 1945 Constitution. Moreover, they may have feared
that unless the 1945 Constitution were soon put into effect, a
coup would be in the offing. None of the parties wanted to
resort to extra-constitutional means, but by this time the
greater misgivings of the PKI and the PNI arose from the fact
that Nasution was firmly in the driver's seat, preventing them
from establishing their own claims to benefit from the return
to 1945. On June 16th, Suwirjo hurriedly cabled Soekarno ex-
pressing PNI support for abolishing the Konstituante, decreeing
the 1945 Constitution into effect, and forming a presidential
cabinet.94 Fearing that the PNI would grab an advantage and
that NU regional leaders might be roused to oppose a decree,
NU protested, and no further cables to the president were coun-
tenanced by the martial law authority.95 in any event, by mid-
the NU people got back to Djakarta and were influenced by the
situation there; and so they finally agreed to work in the
Cabinet ... Masjumi wanted to keep all the Islamic groups in
Bandung pending settlement of the whole conflict, knowing that
. . . in Bandung it was easy to keep the spirit of the fight
up . . . but not when the groups dispersed" (conversation of
Oct. 22, 1961).
Not all NU members were aware of the situation that was
developing. One leader of NU who had opposed Idham's commit-
ment to the cabinet explained: "the party council was kept
completely in the dark about what was happening in the cabinet
[from February through May] and about what the Government's
thinking was on the issue of the return to 1945. ... The NU
ministers didn't fully report on the matter to the party, with
the result that it made very serious miscalculations in dealing
with the issue later on. [That is to say, this informant mis-
calculated and damaged his position on the party council.] I
myself completely misjudged how the Government would react if
a two-thirds vote were not given to the 1945 Constitution by
the Konstituante. I assumed, like many others, especially in
Masjumi, that if the issue failed, then the Konstituante would
simply go on and finish its work, or at most that there would
be a new Konstituante election. But I certainly didn't expect
the Konstituante to be abolished" (conversation of Oct. 26, 1961)
94
Pos Indonesia, June 18, 1959.
95
Duta Masjarakat, June 19, 1959. Army information
officer, Major Harsono, stated at first that Suwirjo*s cable
did not violate the ban on political activities because it was
constructive, not destructive. Sin Po, June 20. The next day,
however, Harsono told the press that no more cables should be
sent, because they would give rise to "various interpretations.
Sin Po, June 21.
II275
June Nasution had the assurances of the PNI, NU, and the PKI
that they would not oppose a decree.
A proper formula was needed to justify a major devia-
tion from the existing constitution, and Nasution was again
instrumental in finding one. Emergency conditions would serve
to satisfy the legal requirements of a decree, but dispensing
with the Konstituante was more delicate. In some furtive
political byplay, in which IPKI played a superficially key role,
Nasution helped to work out the idea that if a majority of
Constituent Assembly members refused to convene, the Assembly
would automatically cease to exist. In mid-June IPKI organized
a Front for the Defense of the Pantjasila (Front Pembela Pantja-
sila) consisting of 17 minor parties which would decline to
meet again in the Assembly.96 IPKI vice-chairman Soegirman was
able to convince Suwirjo and Aidit to sign a resolution to this
effect only with some difficulty· it is likely that they did
not enjoy IPKI's getting such a jump on them, but they could
hardly refuse to support the Pantjasila and the return to 1945.
Both the PNI and the PKI later declared that they would attend
the Constituent Assembly only to vote for its dissolution, but
that proved unnecessary.
On June 15th, the cabinet advised Soekarno, still
abroad, of three alternative plans of action, one of which was
to use a decree.97 Though noncommittal at first, perhaps for
tactical reasons, the President soon indicated that this was
the course he would follow. Roeslan told the press that Soe-
karno was determined on the return to 1945 and that the Govern-
ment and the President were agreed on the way to achieve this.98
Indeed, even had Soekarno come to another conclusion, by late
June Djakarta had become, as some put it, "decree minded."
While he was away, Soekarno1s position was greatly
strengthened, for all attention and political maneuvers were
96
Most of this information comes from an interview with
the IPKI leader, Soegirman, on July 27, 1960.
97
It is not clear what the others were, but they may
have involved either reshuffling the cabinet or returning the
1945 Constitution proposal to the Konstituante for further con-
sideration. In Jogjakarta on June 13, vice-premier Hardi stated
that the cabinet was still committed to carrying out Guided
Democracy within the framework of a return to the 1945 Consti-
tution, and that there was another means of accomplishing this
than the Konstituante. Pos Indonesia, June 14, 1959. By this
time both the PNI and NU were agreed to a decree. See also Sin
Po, June 20; Suluh Indonesia, June 20, 1959. On June 20, Dju-
anda told the press that Soekarno had not yet made his inten-
tions clear. Pos Indonesia, June 21, 1959.
98
Suluh Indonesia, June 23, 26, 1959.276
focused intently upon bis return. Pro-Government parties—
including the PNI, the PKI, Partindo, and Murba—took the view,
amidst renewed professions of loyalty, that everything was now
up to him, and even the hostile press agreed that the determin-
ing role was his. Acting President Sartono and ministers of
the cabinet called upon the people to await Soekarno1s command,
assuring them that he would be able to overcome all difficul-
ties. 99 Most important, the army waited for Soekarno, Nasution
and other officers reiterating time and again their loyalty
and obedience to the President/Commander-in-Chief. But it is
clear that Soekarno was deeply concerned over the role being
played by Nasution, and many of the reports which he received
from Djakarta sources probably stressed the danger of the posi-
tion of personal power which Nasution seemed to be developing
for himself. In the third week of June, Col. Djuhartono was
sent to deliver a message to the President, provoking rumors,
first reported in foreign newspapers, that Nasution had pro-
posed a military government with himself as premier.100 Army
headquarters denied this, but whatever the case Soekarno came
back to Djakarta with profound misgivings about Nasution's
strength.
Soekarno was to return on June 29th. In celebration
of his homecoming, the army ordered flags flown for ten days
and prescribed the slogans and cheers to be used in greeting
him, including "Long Live the Proclamation and the Constitution
of 1945" and "Bung Karno, Act Firmly."101 At the same time,
Nasution called another conference of all military commanders
to begin on the 29th, confronting Soekarno with a united army
front favoring the 1945 Constitution and providing Nasution
with an effective platform from which to negotiate in the for-
mation of a new Government. Soekarno arrived that evening,
99
Suluh Indonesia, June 10; Bintang Timur, June 26,
1959. As acting president, and as a political leader of con-
siderable prestige himself, Sartono took part in Government
discussions on post-Konstituante policy and took the initiative
in consulting with party leaders about their positions.
10^Sin Po, June 22; Pedoman, June 23, 1959. Col.
Djuhartono was sent, according to official reports, not as an
army courier, but as a Government courier. Roeslan, in Hong-
kong after leaving the President in Tokyo, also said that
Djuhartono had not discussed a military government with Soe-
karno. Pos Indonesia, June 24, 1959. Nasution sent his own
reports to Soekarno.
^eipos Indonesia, June 25, 1959. The designation of
proper slogans and cheers was a relatively new phenomenon which
served as an excellent means of forming and channelling public
opinion. It also allowed the army to keep control over public
demonstrations, particularly those sponsored by the PKI, for
whom demonstrations were an important political tool.277
amidst great fanfare. He stated that he would have a major
announcement to make in a few days. He also declared that he
did not intend to become a dictator· he had proved that, said
Soekarno, in an obvious swipe at Nasution, in October 1952—
i.e., when Nasution had tried to force him to assume greater
executive powers.102 gut it must have seemed both to Soekarno
and Nasution that the latter had finally achieved the goals
of the October 17th Affair.
On July 2nd, Soekarno resumed the presidency, and on
the 3rd he informed the cabinet that he would promulgate the
1945 Constitution by decree. On July 5th, in front of the
Djakarta Palace, Soekarno read a proclamation which abolished
the Konstituante, decreed the 1945 Constitution into effect,
and promised that the institutions of that constitution would
be formed in the shortest possible time. In the considerations
of the proclamation, Soekarno indicated that because most of
the members of the Constituent Assembly refused to convene
again it could not complete its work. The Djakarta Charter
was said to inspire the constitution of 1945 and to make up,
with the constitution, one whole? but this bow to Islam did
not change the constitution. 103
On July 6th, after more than two years as Prime Minis-
ter—longer than any other man had held that office—Djuanda
returned the Kabinet Karya1s mandate to Soekarno and then de-
livered his final report to Parliament, thanking it and begging
forgiveness for all faults.104 Meanwhile, the negotiations
leading to a new cabinet had already begun.
The general reaction to the decree was one of acceptance
of the inevitable. Most people believed it to be for the best,
hoping that a new Government under the revolutionary constitution
would show a perceptible improvement and that a new and clean
sheet of history would be begun. But optimism was guarded pending
results. Of the parties, most were prepared to accept this for-
mal mark of the passing of the parliamentary system. Among the
opposition parties there were some who said that they would be
willing to give Soekarno whatever help they could to refashion
the nation. Masjumi leaders, however, feared that the end of
their party was in sight.
102
Notosoetardjo, Kembali kepada Djiwa Proklamasi 1945,
pp. 585-590? Pos Indonesia, June 30, 1959.
103
The text of the decree can be found in B.K.S.-P.M.
Menjongsong Kembali ke U.U.D. '45, p. 185, and numerous other
publications.
104
See Ministry of Information, Keterangan Pemerintah
tentang Penjelesaian Andjuran Preslden/Pemerintah.278
The New Government and
the Developing System
Soekarno promised a cabinet chosen for the sake of
efficiency, effectiveness, and capacity to deal with national
problems. There would be no more lengthy cabinet crises as in
the past and, as an indication that national and not narrow
political interests would determine the makeup of the Govern-
ment, Soekarno publicly eschewed hearings with the political
parties. He succeeded in producing a new cabinet four days
after the decree, but, admitting that all was not apolitical,
he said that the cabinet represented the maximum that could be
achieved at the time.105
This was the inescapable limitation which bound Soe-
karno:	in his new position of responsibility under the revolu-
tionary constitution he faced political forces no less powerful
and persistent than those which had plagued every government
in the past. To deal with these forces, Soekarno had his own
considerable stature and political skill and was aided by the
natural balance of competing groups· but this did not permit
him a great deal of leeway. The possibility of political in-
novation was defined by the groups then existing. No new or-
ganization suddenly appeared with the new constitution to embody
and drive forward the program of Guided Democracy. Compelled
to work with what there was, Soekarno could not avoid a per-
petual struggle for positional advantage.
His foremost concern was the army. It was not that
Nasution was ambitious to succeed to the presidency? rather,
Soekarno seems to have feared that the Chief-of-Staff was de-
signing to become the power behind the presidency. Soekarno's
personal influence over Nasution was quite limited, in a social-
political structure that depended to an important extent upon
personal relationships. The army had been forcing the situa-
tion since 1957. It was largely responsible for bringing about
the transformation of the political system, and now maintained
a degree of control over the country that seriously restricted
Soekarno's freedom of political leadership. The resulting ten-
sion was compounded by frequent differences of view between
Soekarno and army leaders, particularly with respect to the
PKI. Following the establishment of the new government in mid-
1959, Soekarno concentrated on breaking out of the confining
net held by the army. He set out to restore the balance between
it and other groups, to divide the officer corps, and to weaken
Nasution. Within a few years he was to achieve remarkable suc-
cess in these efforts, but it was always limited and the army
remained the chief political force with which he had to contend.
If Nasution's ambitions were limited, he was not prepared to
relinquish them such as they were, and particularly during the
^^^Bintang Timur, July 13, 1959.279
next two years he wielded great power. The net result was a
pattern of negotiation between the General Staff and Soekarno
in which a mutually unsatisfactory outcome had almost always
to be expected.
In the negotiations to form a new cabinet/ Soekarno
tried directly to weaken Nasution and, perhaps, to set him up
for a hard fall later. He proposed that Nasution enter the
cabinet and resign his post as Chief-of-Staff of the army,
possibly in the hope of having a hand in choosing a new Chief-
of-Staff. This Nasution declined to do, stating publicly that
he would obey the Commander-in-Chief but that he wanted to re-
main in the army.106 The General Staff and regional commanders
supported him. Soekarno backed down, but Nasution agreed to
become Minister of Defense and Security while retaining his
command. This was the point of greatest tension in the cabinet
negotiations, and Nasution's strength vis-a-vis Soekarno was
evident. The officer corps also made it clear at this time
that they would brook no civilian interference in the selection
of army leaders.
Nasution's role in selecting the new cabinet was con-
siderable, this being the first major opportunity to tread the
"middle-way" at a high level. Several other military officers
were appointed to cabinet positions. In addition Nasution's
judgment influenced the choice of other members whom army
leaders trusted; thus IPKI won a larger role. Although Soe-
karno had his way in appointing a number of left-wing ministers
Nasution successfully opposed the appointment of Communists to
the cabinet.
Soekarno was to head the new presidential cabinet.
Following the cabinet decision of February, this had been a
matter of concern to some, for government leaders (including
Soekarno) felt that the burden might be too onerous for the
President, who abhorred administrative detail. Consequently
it was decided to appoint a First Minister who would handle
the daily tasks of cabinet direction. The natural choice for
this position was Djuanda, who retained the respect of Soekarno
and Nasution and was less objectionable to others in the Govern
ment than anyone else equally capable. Actually his functions
did not differ greatly from what they had been in the Kabinet
Karya, for he continued to represent the Government before
Parliament and to bear responsibility for putting its program
in order. Politically he also continued to serve as a buffer
106
Pedoman, July 4, 1959.
107
The terminological confusion surrounding the rapid
change to a presidential system was partly responsible for the
awkward title "President/Commander-in-Chief/Prime Minister."280
between Soekarno, Nasution, and the various parties and groups
pressing upon the Government.
The rest of the cabinet was organized in a new style
approximating staff and line terms? presumably Nasution's in-
fluence was felt in this innovation too. The cabinet consisted
of nine core ministers (menteri inti) each responsible for
coordinating several junior ministers (menteri muda). In addi-
tion, there were seven ex-officio ministers. On July 9th the
core ministers were announced. A few more days were needed to
fill the other positions.Ιθθ The cabinet was as follows?
Prime Minister
First Minister
Soekarno
Ir. H. Djuanda
Core Ministers
1.	Security and Defense
2.	Finance
3.	Production
4.	Distribution
5.	Development
6.	Foreign Affairs
7.	Internal Affairs/Regional
Autonomy
8.	People's Welfare
9.	Special Affairs
Lt. Gen. A. H. Nasution
Ir. H. Djuanda
Col. Suprajogi
Dr. J. Leimena
Chaerul Saleh
Dr. Subandrio
Ipik Gandamana
Muljadi Djojomartono
Mr. Muh. Yaminl09
108
See Notosoetardjo, Kembali kepada Djiwa Proklamasi
1945, pp. 11-12? Pos Indonesia, July 10? Suluh Indonesia, July
11? Pos Indonesia, July 12, 1959.
109
Originally Yamin was appointed as Core Minister of
Social and Cultural Affairs, in charge of the Ministry of Edu-
cation and Culture. Minister Prijono protested against this,
however—there was some personal animosity between the two men,
and the Junior Minister's pride was at stake--and Yamin's
Ministry was changed to one without portfolio status.
The junior ministries were arranged as follows under
the coordinative and supervisory responsibilities of the core
ministries?
First Minister
1. Information
Security/Defense
1.	Defense
2.	Justice
3.	Police
4.	Veterans
Finance
1. Finance
Production
1.	Agriculture
2.	Public Works
& Power
3.	Labor
Development
1.	Basic Industries
2.	People's Industries
3.	Agrarian Affairs
4.	Transmigration,etc.
Distribution
1.	Land Communications
2.	Sea Communications
3.	Air Communications
4.	Trade
People1 2 3 4s Welfare
1.	Health
2.	Social Affairs
3.	Religion
The remaining junior ministers were directly responsible to the
Prime Minister.281
Junior Ministers
1.	Information
2.	Defense
3.	Justice
4.	Police
5.	Veterans
6.	Finance
7.	Agriculture
8.	Public Works and Power
9.	Labor
10.	Basic Industries/Mines
11.	People's Industries
12.	Agrarian Affairs
13.	Transmigration, Coopera-
tives, and Village
Development
14.	Sea Communications
15.	Land Communications (Post
and Telecommunications)
16.	Air Communications
17.	Trade
18.	Health
19.	Social Affairs
20.	Religion
21.	Education and Culture
22.	Mobilization of People's
Energies
23.	Cabinet Liaison with Par-
liament and the People's
Consultative Assembly
24.	Cabinet Liaison with
Alim Ulama
Maladi
Maj. Gen. Hidajat
Mr. Sahardjo
Sukanto Tjokrodijatmodjo (Chief
of State Police)
Col. Sambas
M. Notohamiprodjo
Col. Dr. Aziz Saleh
Ir. S. Dipokusumo
Ahem Erningpradja
Chaerul Saleh
Dr. Suharto
Mr. Sadjarwo
Lt. Col. (titular) Achmadi
Abdul Mutalib
Maj. Gen. Djatikusumo
Air Col. Iskandar
Arifin Harahap
Col. Dr. Satrio
Muljadi Djojomartono
K. H. Wahib Wahab
Prof. Dr. Prijono
Sudibjo and Sudjono (co-ministers)
W. J. Rumambi
K. H. Fatah Jasin
Ministers Ex-Officio
1.	Army Chief-of-Staff (Nasution)
2.	Navy Chief-of-Staff (Martadinata, late July)
3.	Air Force Chief-of-Staff (Suryadarma)
4.	Chief of State Police (Sukanto)
5.	Chief Prosecutor (Gatot Tarunamihardja)
6.	Vice-Chairman, High Advisory Council (Roeslan Abdulgani)
7.	Chairman, National Planning Council (Yamin)
The cabinet was explicitly non-party, and several
ministers resigned from their parties. These included Leimena
(Parkindo), Subandrio and Sadjarwo, both of whom had joined the
PNI before the cabinet reshuffle of 1958 and had been appointed
to the party council, and Ipik Gandamana (IPKI), the former
governor of West Java.H-θ Of all the ex-party men in the
Pos Indonesia, July 10 and 12, 1959.
110282
cabinet, however, only Fatah Jasin and Wahib Wahab had been
firm party members, and if they resigned from the NU, they
nevertheless continued to consider themselves in the party
leadership. Clearly the role of the parties in the new cabinet
was quite small. The PNI was particularly disappointed in its
poor representation· indeed, it was all but ignored, no inner
circle PNI leader receiving a post. Ironically, the NU was
better treated, because of the necessity to represent Islam.
In one sense the new cabinet marked the rise of NU as the chief
Islamic party, Masjumi fading into a permanent and weak opposi-
tion.
The name of the new cabinet was changed from Kabinet
Karya to Kabinet Kerdja (work), both qualifiers meaning the
same thingy Soekarno said the change was only for the sake of
a distinction.Hl He himself determined the Government program,
which was a simple and straightforward one of three basic goals?
(1) adequate food and clothing for the people,Π2 (2) restora-
tion of security, and (3) anti-imperialism—including, most im-
portantly, the acquisition of West Irian. Soekarno assumed
responsibility for this program, though he hedged somewhat in
saying that if it were not fulfilled within two or three years
he would consider himself one-half a failure.H3
The new cabinet was received with a mixture of hope
and skepticism. Some regarded its organization optimistically,
and the hyperpositive attitudes of several ministers seemed
encouraging.11^ In one or two Ministries to which men of well
11^Notosoetardjo, Kembali kepada Djiwa Proklamasi 1945,
pp. 621-622.
112
Soekarno used the Javanese term sandang-pangan
(clothing and food) to describe this item of the program. It
bears the broader connotation of all the necessities of life,
cheap and in abundance. When he announced the program, Soekarno
apologized for using a "regional term." The interesting thing
about this is that it illustrates a rather modest attitude on
his part during the period of cabinet negotiations and for a
few weeks thereafter. He seems to have been quite consciously
solicitous of regional, religions,political and other sensitiv-
ities. Possibly he was deeply concerned over the great burden
of responsibility which he now had to bear, and he was clearly
aware of how difficult it would be to lead a Government in the
face of so many forces which were beyond his control.
113Pos Indonesia, July 10, 1959.
114
Chaerul Saleh, Leimena, Suprajogi, and Djuanda, for
example, won kudos for appearing in their offices hard at work
by eight o'clock, and Maladi told journalists that they could
call on him at any time before three a.m. at his office. Suluh
Indonesia, July 23, 1959.283
known ability were appointed—Justice, for example—morale
definitely picked up with the belief that authority would now
at last be given to the technically meritorious. Many were
also encouraged by the Government's apparent determination to
change work habits, to weed out corruption, and to give effi-
ciency priority. But the inclination of most groups, as so
often in the past, was towards a "wait and see" reservation of
judgment until results could be observed. Among the politi-
cally aware there was no hiding the disappointment aroused by
the Kabinet Kerdja. It was obvious that political dickering
had played no small role in constructing the cabinet. And
there were few new faces? a majority of the key ministers were
regarded as political hacks who had been around too long al-
ready, and from them little that was novel and imaginative could
be expected. A right-wing comment on the cabinet was that it
was nondescript. To those on the left it seemed that the
make-up of the cabinet was out of character with the return to
the spirit of 1945. H5
Under the 1945 Constitution, Soekarno appointed the new
Supreme Advisory Council (Dewan Pertimbangan Agung, DPA) in late
July. It was in fact the direct successor to the National
Council, whose functions and procedures it inherited. Soekarno
remained its chairman, Roeslan its vice-chairman. But there
was a vital difference in membership between the National Coun-
cil and the DPA. There were ten holdovers from the former (be-
sides Soekarno and Roeslan) in the 46 member DPA.These
and a majority of the new members whom Soekarno appointed were
on the radical nationalist left. But in addition, unlike the
National Council, the top leaders of several parties were chosen
by Soekarno to sit in the DPA as representatives of political
groups.117 Soekarno thus had the major party leaders of the
nation (except Masjumi) before him, and they for their part
were given something of a forum in which to defend their par-
ties' interests. A year later, when the party system was "sim-
plified, " only the parties represented in the DPA—the PNI, the
PKI, NU, the PSII, Perti, Murba, Partindo, Parkindo, and the
See Bintang Timur, July 13, 1959. The editorial,
noting that both the United States and Britain were pleased
with the new cabinet, declared that this was ample indication
that the ministers were not sufficiently revolutionary.
IT 6
Sukarni, Iwa Kusumasumantri, Tjilik Riwut, Rumage-
sang, Moh. Padang, Munir, Sujono Atmo, Rasuna Said, Henk
Ngantung, Armunanto.
117
Party representatives were Suwirjo and Manuaba (PNI)?
Idham Chalid and Saifuddin Zuhri (NU)? Aidit and Njoto (PKI)?
Arudji Kartawinata (PSII)? K. H. Rusli Abdulwahid (Perti)?
Sukarno (Murba)? Asmara Hadi (Partindo)? Tambunan (Parkindo)?
Kasimo (Catholics).284
Partai Katholik—plus IPKI escaped abolition. The organization
of the DPA consisted of three categories of representatives:
political groups, regions, and functional groups. Several
years later these were to become the basic categories of a new
election law.HS
The National Planning Council was also announced towards
the end of July. Yamin was appointed chairman of the 77-member
body, which was constituted of regional and functional repre-
sentatives, with an implicit political representation distrib-
uted among them.119 The Council encouraged considerable op-
timism, for it brought together a number of men respected for
their technical abilities. It quickly set to work devising a
national overall development plan which was to be completed
within one year; the speed boded ill for the quality of the
plan.
Under the 1945 Constitution, Soekarno was responsible
only to the People's Consultative Assembly. He appointed this
118
Regional representatives were? Iwa Kusumasumantri
and Dul Arnowo (Java); Tjilik Riwut (Kalimantan); Rumagesang
(West Irian); Moh. Padang (Moluccas); Sutetje (Lesser Sundas);
Andi Pangerang (Sulawesi); Col. Sjamaun Gaharu (Sumatra). Func-
tional group representatives: Asmu and Bambang Murtioso (Peas-
ants); Munir and Datuk (Labor); Dasaad (National Entrepreneurs);
Adam Malik (Generation of '45); Maj. Gen. Gatot Soebroto (Army);
Air Commodore Abdurachman (Air Force); Naval Commodore Nazir
(Navy); Police Commissioner Jasin (Police); Farid Ma'ruf and
Wahab Chasbullah (Alim Ulama); Msgr. Sugiopranoto or Msgr. Pat-
moseputro (one or the other, Catholics); Wenas (Protestants);
Sugriwe (Hindu Bali); Sujono Atmo (Youth); Rasuna Said and
Emma Puradiredja (Women); Henk Ngantung (Artists); Armunanto
(Journalists); Prof. Djokosoetono and Tumakaka (Intellectuals);
Siauw Giok Tjhan (Chinese minority); Prof. Utrecht (Indo-Euro-
pean minority). Several of these members were also associated
with political parties. For example, Utrecht belonged to the
PNI, Siauw Giok Tjhan was the chairman of Baperki, Sujono Atmo
was close to PKI circles; Wahab Chasbullah was an NU leader.
Functional groups were never to become completely free of party
influence, and to that extent the parties were quite right in
questioning whether there was any basis for creating wholly
new organizations to represent "functional interests."
119
See Notosoetardjo, Kembali kepada Djiwa Proklamasi
1945, pp. 14-15, for the membership of the National Planning
Council. Several former members of the National Council were
appointed to the Planning Council. There was also a strong
delegation from various universities. The army was well repre-
sented, more so from the regions than from functional groups.285
body on a provisional basis in mid-1960, pending the time, far
in the future, when elections would be held. Following the
inauguration of the Kabinet Kerdja in July 1959, Soekarno re-
quested the existing Parliament to continue to function under
the 1945 Constitution, making such procedural changes as were
necessary. Speaker Sartono and party leaders made it clear
that they still regarded their Parliament as an important part
of the political system. Masjumi particularly emphasized the
point that Parliament, with or without elections, remained a
legitimate institution; it was the only national governing body
in which Masjumi still had a voice.120 Despite Masjumi's views
and the pride of many MP's, however, Parliament—especially
without elections—was at the mercy of the executive. For
henceforth it was essentially Soekarno who determined which
governing institutions would enjoy legitimacy.
Such optimism as the new Government encouraged began
to disintegrate in the second half of 1959 as tensions exploded
into incidents here and there. The most important conflict
centered around efforts to drive the army back and reduce its
authority.121 Against renewed attacks on martial law and the
prohibition of political activities, Nasution argued that both
were essential to defend the integrity of the Decree of July 5;
but the prohibition was partially relaxed on Soekarno1s insist-
ence. At the same time, Air Force Chief-of-Staff Suryadarma
demanded that Soekarno take direct charge of all the services,
making it clear that the air force did not want to be under
Minister Nasution. Nasution refused to hear of this, however,
and the matter was soon settled in favor of the status quo;
but Soekarno got in a blow by calling the air force the apple
of his eye and promising it new equipment. Over Nasution's
objections, Soekarno not only made it possible for the PKI to
hold its national congress in September 1959 but also personally
addressed the meeting. On another score Nasution won: when
Chief Prosecutor Gatot Tarunamihardja attempted to prosecute
Col. Ibnu Sutowo and Lt. Col. Soekendro, army intelligence
chief, for their part in the Tandjung Priok barter of late
1958, the General Staff promptly had Gatot arrested. Gatot
120
Within eight months Masjumi was to be outside of
Parliament also. The PKI, on the other hand, was now in every
major institution of the government except the cabinet.
121
In late July the Chief-of-Staff of the Navy was dis-
missed, causing some tension in that service also. Admiral
Subijakto was relieved of his command partly in connection with
the protests of a group of naval fliers based in Surabaja who
felt that he had discriminated against them in selection for
training abroad. There were other dissatisfactions with the
Admiral, who had commanded the navy for a decade. Subijakto
was later appointed ambassador to Turkey. His replacement was
a younger officer, Martadinata.286
was later replaced by a new Chief Prosecutor whom army leaders
were instrumental in choosing.
Government policy after July contributed to the decline
of public morale. The cabinet had quickly set about devising
a program to deal with economic problems, but it was not to
achieve significant success. With poor timing so soon after
the formation of the new Government, in mid-August an anti-
inflationary money-cutting measure was put into effect. Large
denomination bills were reduced in value by 90 per cent, and
bank holdings were frozen. Ultimately the measure was ineffec-
tive, for the volume of money in circulation, which had been
reduced by 50 per cent, grew rapidly again, partly because of
government expenditures. Moreover, those with little money
were hurt nearly as much as those with a great deal. There-
after matters got worse, not better.
The 1945 Constitution institutionalized the power
structure which had evolved since 1957, Soekarno and the army
having overturned the unsympathetic constitution of 1950. From
one point of view, the new political system was only a perma-
nent form of the martial law system, many of whose essential
lines had been worked out during the previous two years. But
there was still a lengthy period of evolution to come.
The striking aspect of Guided Democracy as it developed
after the restoration of the 1945 Constitution was that it con-
tained many political but few institutional controls. For in-
stitutions were pulled apart and broken down but poorly reas-
sembled. Increasingly, the political institutions of the state
came in formal terms to depend upon Soekarno as keystone. He
appointed the members of Parliament, the People's Consultative
Assembly, the cabinet, and the DPA, and the higher officials
of regional government· and those whom he appointed were natu-
rally obliged to him. Equally important, the changing economic
structure of Indonesia, with a progressive concentration of
economic power in the ministries of the state, deprived poten-
tially powerful groups of a base of wealth from which to oppose
and control the government. Yet Soekarno himself never acquired
an organization capable of executing policy over the obstruc-
tions of vested political interests. Consequently only those
programs that did not threaten the elite could be attempted
seriously, and these frequently were in the realm of foreign
affairs. Soekarno moved rapidly into a prime role of ideolog-
ical articulation and legitimation, and the more he served this
role and that of political keystone the more he was depended
upon to perform it.
The essential reward of the army within the 1945 Con-
stitution system was the institutionalization of its political
role. It no longer depended upon temporary martial law for the287
right to participate, for as a functional group it belonged
permanently in the political order. The threat to the politi-
cal, social, and economic interests of the army elite therefore
receded, though the officer corps remained unwilling to give
up the special authority offered by martial law. The gradual
absorption of the army elite into the already existing broader
national elite rendered it politically somewhat more divisive
and vulnerable yet also more moderate. Within the political
system, the officer corps tended to become simply another
political group competing for the perquisites of governmental
authority. Despite its overwhelming physical power, the army
lacked a political program and ideology of its own· it there-
fore sought these within the government, becoming the chief
actor in the intense ideological activity which characterized
Indonesian politics after 1959.
The party system was a deflated appendage of the new
political system. In the conflict of Guided Democracy the
parties lost out. The PNI and NU, the two center parties,
chose almost from the beginning to collaborate with the evolv-
ing order and ended up as weak hangers-on. They obtained quite
a lot in the way of honors, prestige, and material rewards but
gradually lost their bases of power and had little to contrib-
ute to policy innovation. Elections were postponed time and
again, but only the PKI and a few leaders of the other parties
felt this to be any real loss. The non-Communist parties con-
tinued to make organizing motions among the peasantry, labor,
and various other groups· in May 1959 the PNI established a
new cultural organization (Lembaga Kebudajaan Nasional, National
Cultural Institution) to compete—quite unsuccessfully—with
the PKI's Lekra. But by and large the leaders of the PNI and
NU were, if not completely satisfied, at least willing to live
with their positions.
It is an irony of some significance that Guided Democ-
racy petrified most of the parties into precisely the kind of
organizations they had been condemned for being earlier. In
1956-1957 the parties were justly accused of being top heavy,
their leadership feeling little bound by or concerned with the
lower party echelons or the people whom they were supposed to
represent. There is some doubt whether the election process
would eventually have developed a closer bond between leaders
and rank and file, for this would depend also upon a different
view of authority emerging among the electorate. But despite
the experience of 1955—which did little to alter the character
of the parties—parliamentary elections did threaten the par-
ties with a sanction that might have forced them in time to
serve a more representative function. The electoral success
of the PKI may be attributable in large part to the fact that
it heeded popular interests. In any event, the emergence of
Guided Democracy, along with the disappearance of elections as
a formal source of political legitimacy, finally turned the
parties into bodyless heads, existing largely on the pleasure288
of an authority over which they had little control. The proof
of this point is that the leadership of no party changed appre-
ciably after 1959; no new cadres moved up from the dwindling
ranks. The average age of the parties' elites has increased
by one year every year.
The same is generally true of the Government. Soekarno,
inclined to choose men on the basis of loyalty rather than
merit, had more confidence in his ability to control older
generation leaders. To some extent, this malady spread even
to the army, though the functional hierarchy of military organ-
ization kept rather more men moving up than in the civilian
polity. The result has been the paradox of a revolutionary
ideology being wielded authoritatively by a group of leaders
many of whom are approaching 50 and 60 years of age. What is
significant in this—for there is no reason why a 50-year-old
cannot be a revolutionary—is that the ideology of this genera-
tion of Indonesian leaders derives largely from the struggle
against colonialism and very often from much older traditional
concepts of political authority and responsibility. Under
Guided Democracy there was a shift in emphasis from a vaguely
defined goal of economic development to one of nation-building,
partly because of the difficulty of achieving rapid economic
growth. At the same time, this was accompanied by an almost
uncontrollable turning back to traditional (and natural) polit-
ical habits, justified in one way or another by ideology.
This is not to say, however, that the ideology is un-
moving in its context or that it does not satisfy felt needs.
It does, but primarily in terms of such standards as the glory
of the state and the search for an explicit national identity.
These standards have been declining in importance for younger
leaders--many of whom are as yet politically uninitiated--in
part because they are more confident of their own vocational
skills than older men who have had little opportunity to become
practitioners in anything but politics. The concerns of older
generation leaders have been almost entirely political, which
helps to explain both their penchant for ideological activity
and also the higher political, rather than economic, content
of ideology under Guided Democracy.
From much of what has been said above about the decline
of the party system the PKI is exempt, for in a sense it kept
its feet firmly planted in both systems—the parliamentary and
the Guided Democratic. It continued to work feverishly to
keep its popular support while adjusting to the requirements
of membership in the new structure. Peaceful transition re-
mained the foundation of PKI policy, and in part by retaining
Soekarno's favor it stayed alive and powerful. But this also
meant giving in to the demands of the new system. The PKI had
to accept Soekarno1s terms, putting a brake for a while on its
own revolutionary drive—which however remained much greater
than that of any other group. This was to some extent a289
debilitating policy for the PKI and caused noticeable internal
stress, for by going along with Guided Democracy the party
suffered both frustration and, among some followers, a too
ready willingness to enjoy the benefits of partial membership
in the regime. Nevertheless, the power of the PKI grew stead-
ily.
1959 through 1961 were years of further consolidation
for the Government and the forces of Guided Democracy. The
peak period of opposition and strain under the new system came
in 1960, when the constant threat of the army was temporarily
reduced to acceptable proportions. In the following years in-
ternal conflict remained insoluble but essentially stable as
Indonesia moved into a period whose dominant theme was an in-
tensely active foreign policy.290
APPENDIX
THE CONSTITUTION OF 1945*
Preamble
Whereas independence is the right of every nation,
therefore colonialism must be abolished from the face of the
earth as it is contrary to the dictates of human nature and
justice.
And the struggle for Indonesian independence has now
reached that glorious moment, having led the Indonesian people
safely to the threshold of independence for an Indonesian State
which is free, united, sovereign, just, and prosperous.
With the blessing of God Almighty and impelled by the
noble ideal of a free national life, the Indonesian people do
hereby declare their independence.
Further, in order to establish a government of the
State of Indonesia which shall protect the entire Indonesian
people and the whole of the land of Indonesia, and in order to
promote the general welfare, to improve the standard of living,
and to participate in establishing a world order founded upon
freedom, eternal peace, and social justice; therefore the Inde-
pendence of the Indonesian People is embodied in a Constitution
of the State of Indonesia, which Constitution shall establish
a Republic of the State of Indonesia in which the people are
sovereign and which is based upon; Belief in the One Supreme
God, a just and civilized humanitarianism, the unity of Indo-
nesia, and a democracy guided by the wisdom arising from con-
sultation and representation, which democracy shall ensure
social justice for the whole Indonesian people.
CHAPTER I
Form and Sovereignty
Article 1
1. The State of Indonesia is a unitary state and in form a
Republic.
In translating the constitution, I have relied also
on several other translations which have appeared since 1945,
including two published by the Ministry of Information in
Djakarta.291
2.	Sovereignty is vested in the people and exercised fully by
the People's Consultative Assembly (Madjelis Permusjawaratan
Rakjat).
CHAPTER II
The People's Consultative Assembly
(Madjelis Permusjawaratan Rakjat)
Article 2
1.	The People's Consultative Assembly consists of the members
of the Council of Representatives (Dewan Perwakilan Rakjat,
Parliament) and delegates of the regions and other groups
in accordance with rules prescribed by law.
2.	The People's Consultative Assembly shall assemble in the
capital at least once every five years.
3.	All decisions of the People's Consultative Assembly shall
be taken by majority vote.
Article 3
The People's Consultative Assembly shall decide upon
the Constitution and determine the basic outlines of state
policy.
CHAPTER III
The Executive
Article 4
1.	The President of the Republic of Indonesia is vested with
the power of Government in accordance with the Constitu-
tion.
2.	In exercising his responsibilities, the President is as-
sisted by a Vice-President.
Article 5
1.	The President, acting with the consent of the Council of
Representatives, exercises legislative powers.
2.	The President shall enact such government regulations
(peraturan pemerintah) as are necessary for the proper exe-
cution of the laws.292
Article 6
1.	The President shall be a native-born Indonesian.
2.	The President and the Vice-President shall be elected by
the People's Consultative Assembly by majority vote.
Article 7
The President and Vice-President hold office for a
term of five years# and thereafter are eligible for re-election.
Article 8
In the event of the President's death# resignation, re-
moval from office# or inability to exercise his duties during
the term of his office# he is succeeded by the Vice-President
until that term is expired.
Article 9
Before assuming their offices, the President and Vice-
President shall# by religious oath or affirmation# solemnly de-
clare before the People's Consultative Assembly or the Council
of Representatives as follows?
Oath of the President (Vice-President)? "I swear before
God# that to the best of my ability I shall faithfully and con-
scientiously fulfill the duties of the President of the Repub-
lic of Indonesia# maintain the Constitution and faithfully
execute all laws and regulations, and dedicate myself to the
service of State and Nation."
Affirmation of the President (Vice-President)? "I do
solemnly affirm# that to the best of my ability I shall faith-
fully and conscientiously fulfill the duties of the President
of the Republic of Indonesia, maintain the Constitution and
faithfully execute all laws and regulations# and dedicate my-
self to the service of State and Nation."
Article 10
The President holds the highest authority over the
Army# Navy# and Air Force.
Article 11
The President# with the consent of the Council of Rep-
resentatives, declares war, makes peace# and concludes treaties
with other states.293
Article 12
The President is empowered to proclaim martial law.
The conditions governing a proclamation of martial law, and
the consequences thereof, shall be prescribed by law.
Article 13
1.	The President appoints diplomatic representatives and
Consuls.
2.	The President receives the diplomatic representatives of
foreign states.
Article 14
The President has authority to grant pardon, amnesty,
abolition, and rehabilitation.
Article 15
The President has authority to bestow titles, decora-
tions for merit, and other marks of honor.
CHAPTER IV
The Supreme Advisory Council
(Dewan Pertimbangan Agung)
Article 16
1.	The composition of the Supreme Advisory Council shall be
determined by law.
2.	The Supreme Advisory Council is responsible for giving ad-
vice on matters submitted to it by the President, and has
the right to submit proposals to the Government.
CHAPTER V
The Ministries
Article 17
1.	The President is assisted by Ministers of the State.
2.	Ministers are appointed and discharged by the President.
3.	The Ministers direct Departments of the Government.294
CHAPTER VI
Local Government
Article 18
The division of the territory of Indonesia into large
and small units and the composition of their government shall
he prescribed by law, with due regard for and observance of
the principle of consultation and the traditional rights of
areas with extraordinary status.
CHAPTER VII
The Council of Representatives
Article 19
1.	The composition of the Council of Representatives shall be
prescribed by law.
2.	The Council of Representatives shall assemble at least once
every year.
Article 20
1.	Every statute requires the consent of the Council of Repre-
sentatives.
2.	In the event that a bill is rejected by the Council of Rep-
resentatives, that bill may not be submitted for a second
time during the same session of the Council of Representa-
tives.
Article 21
1.	Members of the Council of Representatives have the right
to initiate bills.
2.	In the event that such a bill is approved by the Council
of Representatives but rejected by the President, that bill
may not be submitted for a second time during the same
session of the Council of Representatives.
Article 22
1.	In cases of emergency, the President has the authority to
enact government regulations in place of statutes.
2.	Government regulations thus enacted shall be submitted to
the next session of the Council of Representatives for
ratif ication.295
3.	In the event that such government regulations are not rati-
fied# they are revoked.
CHAPTER VIII
Finance
Article 23
1.	A budget of receipts and expenditures shall be determined
each year by the Council of Representatives. In the event
that the Council of Representatives does not approve the
budget proposed by the Government# then the budget for the
preceding year remains in force.
2.	Every tax imposed for the purpose of government revenues
shall be based upon a statute.
3.	The form and denominations of currency shall be determined
by law.
4.	Other matters concerning public finance shall be prescribed
by law.
5.	To examine all matters pertaining to public finance# a
Financial Auditing Office (Badan Pemeriksa Keuangan) shall
be established by law. The results of its audits shall be
presented to the Council of Representatives.
CHAPTER IX
The Judiciary
Article 24
1.	Judicial authority is vested in a Supreme Court and such
other judicial bodies as are established by law.
2.	The organization and competence of the courts shall be
determined by law.
Article 25
The conditions of appointment and removal from office
of judges shall be prescribed by law.296
CHAPTER X
Citizenship
Article 26
1.	Native born Indonesians and others naturalized according
to law are citizens.
2.	The conditions affecting citizenship shall be prescribed
by law.
Article 27
1.	All citizens have the same status in law and in government
and shall/ without exception/ respect the law and the
government.
2.	Every citizen has the right to work and to a reasonable
standard of living.
Article 28
The freedom of assembly and association/ of expression
of spoken and written opinion, and similar freedoms shall be
provided for by law.
CHAPTER XI
Religion
Article 29
1.	The state is based upon Belief in the One Supreme God.
2.	The state guarantees the freedom of every inhabitant to
embrace his own religion and to worship according to his
religion and his beliefs.
CHAPTER XII
National Defense
Article 30
1.	Every citizen has the right and the responsibility to par-
ticipate in the defense of the state.
2.	Matters concerning defense shall be provided for by law.297
CHAPTER XIII
Education
Article 31
1.	Every citizen has the right to an education.
2.	The Government shall provide and manage a system of educa-
tion, which shall be provided for by law.
Article 32
The Government shall promote and develop the national
culture of Indonesia.
CHAPTER XIV
Social Welfare
Article 33
1.	The economy shall be organized as a cooperative endeavor
based on the principle of family life.
2.	The State shall control those means of production which are
important for the state and which dominate the economic
life of the people.
3.	The land, the water, and the natural resources contained
therein shall be controlled by the state and exploited for
the greatest prosperity of the people.
Article 34
The poor and the orphaned shall be cared for by the
State.
CHAPTER XV
The National Flag and Language
Article 35
The Indonesian National Flag is the Honored Red and
White.
Article 36
The national language of Indonesia is Indonesian.298
CHAPTER XVI
Amendment of the Constitution
Article 37
1.	In order to amend the Constitution, a quorum of two-thirds
the membership of the People's Consultative Assembly is
required.
2.	Decisions.shall be taken by a two-thirds majority of those
attending.
Transitional Provisions
Article I
The Preparatory Committee for Indonesian Independence
shall prepare and arrange the transfer of administration to
the Government of Indonesia.
Article II
All existing state institutions and laws shall remain
in force so long as new ones have not been created in accord-
ance with this Constitution.
Article III
The President and Vice-President shall be elected ini-
tially by the Preparatory Committee for Indonesian Independence
Article IV
Before the formation according to this Constitution of
the People's Consultative Assembly, the Council of Representa-
tives, and the Supreme Advisory Council, their authority shall
be exercised by the President with the assistance of the Na-
tional Committee.
Additional Provisions