This essay is part of a series commissioned by the Australia-Indonesia Centre, with leading writers and commentators from Indonesia and Australia each looking closely at their own society, cultures and political situations. When asked to contribute an essay to the series, Eliza thought of exploring the subject of Indonesian identity through personal and national trauma—specifically the May 1998 tragedy.
How was it possible that these people, after three decades of silence and obedience and fear, now found the courage to protest? These people were so used to submitting to fate. How had they decided that they could break the course of History? The protests impressed him profoundly as the first confirmation that one could indeed bring about change. He would never forget how, along with the sound of thousands of students marching, he had heard God lovingly whisper in his ear, ‘You too can change your life’s course.’
Esai ini merupakan bagian dari serangkaian yang ditugaskan oleh Pusat Australia-Indonesia—penulis dan komentator terkemuka dari Indonesia dan Australia memeriksa secara dekat masyarakat, budaya, dan situasi politik di negara masing-masing. Ketika diminta menyumbang esai untuk serial tersebut, langsung terpikir oleh Eliza untuk menyelusuri topik itu melalui tema trauma personal dan nasional, terutama tragedi Mei 1998.
In a country as diverse as Indonesia—with hundreds of ethnicities, many faiths, and with an authoritarian history, it can be difficult to talk about controversial issues. Since the fall of the New Order, Indonesia has taken steps to guarantee freedom of expression. Unfortunately, laws that contradict those steps have also been passed.
Sesekali sebutir nasi atau seiris bawang goreng tersisa di pinggir bibir mereka, bagai seorang minoritas atau kambing hitam, yang kemudian mereka enyahkan dengan sapuan tangan.
She eyed the sweaty strangers around them, tearing off pieces of flesh, crunching into crackers, red sauce dripping from their fingers. Every now and then a lone grain of rice or shred of onion would cling to the corner of their lips, like a lonely outcast or scapegoat, only to be obliterated with a swipe of their greasy hands.
As democratic reforms swept Indonesia in the late nineties, the nation’s young generation asked themselves: what does it mean to be free? This novel is a compelling study of freedom and love, community and conformity, told with humour, sensuality and a subtly sharp political intelligence.
Seraya Indonesia menjelang demokrasi pada akhir ’90-an, generasi muda bertanya: apa makna kebebasan? Seorang laki-laki dan seorang perempuan mendambakan kebebasan untuk jadi diri sendiri, meskipun itu berarti hidup di luar norma-norma masyarakat dan budaya.
Dari mana mereka, setelah tiga dekade bungkam dan patuh, kini mendapat nyali untuk protes? Orang-orang yang begitu biasa tunduk pada takdir, apa yang memberi mereka ilham untuk mengguncang sejarah? Rizky begitu terkesan karena itulah konfirmasi pertama yang diterimanya bahwa seseorang ternyata mampu mengarak perubahan. Ia takkan lupa saat ia mendengar bisikan Tuhan di sela derap langkah ribuan mahasiswa: ‘Kau pun dapat mengubah hidupmu.’
Eliza Vitri Handayani 