AT t the Jogja-Netpac Asian Film Festival this month, Makbul Mubarak’s feature film “Autobiography” and Lola Amaria’s documentary “Eksil” received the Golden Hanoman Award and the Best Film of Indonesian Screen Awards, respectively.

These new films portray the entanglement of individual destiny in Indonesian history and confront the country’s authoritarian legacy by bringing to light the unspeakable trauma of the nation.

“Eksil” follows a group of senior scholars born and raised in Indonesia who were uprooted in the wake of a political crisis in 1965.

The Indonesian Army accused the Indonesian Communist Party (PKI) of assassinating the top generals and began a campaign to hunt down its members and their supporters.

During the political upheaval, the new government purged the communists and barred Indonesians who were studying in the Soviet Union and China from returning home.

These intellectuals were forced into exile, unable to reunite with their family. 

They were in their prime of life, eager to develop their country, but they were now persona non grata in their homeland. They ended up seeking refuge in the Netherlands, Czech Republic, Sweden, and Germany, and struggled for decades with homesickness.

In 1998, the fall of Suharto, who held power for 32 years, finally enabled the banished scholars to go home. 

Sadly, their relatives refused to see them and even asked them to leave. Their actions could not be attributed to paranoia, however.

Although the former exiles had become European citizens, they were surveilled by the police while they were Indonesia. The old guard of the “New Order” might not have faded away.

The 1965 events have left indelible scars on the Muslim community of Indonesia, who make up nearly 90% of the population.

Echoing government crackdown on PKI with allegations made by Suharto and the army, the largest Islamist party and the nationalist militia called for jihad to exterminate the communists.

Many peasants who shared similar cultural and religious roots were accused of being communists (hence apostates) and were attacked by armed mobs. Other minorities like the Chinese, Christians, and Hindus were not spared either.

Not only were most law enforcement suspended but the army and police also provided gangs with weapons and lists of people. Hundreds of thousands were slaughtered.

The Indonesian army concealed its complicity in the mass killings by blaming PKI. The party and Marxist-Leninist doctrines were banned. Communism has since become a national taboo.

But this is not an experience exclusive to Indonesia.

Decolonisation of Malaysia and Indonesia took place alongside the Cold War, a time when former colonisers and post-independence regimes saw the communists as strong competitors.

The easiest strategy was to define communism as the enemy of God and spread the fear that atheists would destroy the state and religion.

Identifying “anti-communism” with “defence of faith” and “patriotism” became a tool to consolidate power and suppress dissent, even though many communists and their sympathisers are pious or patriotic.

Eksil delves into the memories of those abandoned by their beloved tanah air because of the communist stigma.

Acclaimed internationally, it was also screened successfully in its own country, showing the maturity and honesty of the Indonesian public dealing with their history.

In contrast, Malaysia is lagging far behind her neighbour.

Local filmmaker Amir Muhammad’s “The Last Communist” (2006), inspired by the life of Chin Peng, and “Apa Khabar Orang Kampung (2007)”, featuring retired Malay-Muslim members of the Communist Party of Malaya (CPM), are banned in Malaysia.

Another banned documentary is Lau Kek Huat’s Absent Without Leave (2016) about exiled anti-Japanese War veterans and members of CPM. These films were well received internationally but forbidden to screen here.

The stigmatisation of communism was, and still is, tied to political struggle and oppression. As long as the Red Scare still traps us, we cannot have a thorough understanding of the past.

The dominant narrative will continue to shape our national identity and affect religious and ethnic relations. – December 19, 2022.

* Veronica Lim Yi Hui is the Agora Society chairman. She holds a degree in biochemistry and is a PhD candidate in Philosophy. She has great interest in human creative endeavours like films and music. At the same time, she is concerned over the destructive impact of humans on the planet.

* This is the opinion of the writer or publication and does not necessarily represent the views of The Malaysian Insight. Article may be edited for brevity and clarity.