A PRELIMINARY ANALYSIS OF THE
OCTOBER 1, 1965, COUP IN
INDONESIA
Benedict R. Anderson and Ruth T. McVey
(with the assistance of Frederick P. Bunnell)
INTERIM REPORTS SERIES
Modem Indonesia Project
Southeast Asia Program
Cornell University
Ithaca, New York
1971A PRELIMINARY ANALYSIS OF THE
OCTOBER 1, 1965, COUP IN
INDONESIA
Benedict R. Anderson and Ruth T. McVey
(with the assistance of Frederick P. Bunnell)
INTERIM REPORTS SERIES
Modem Indonesia Project
Southeast Asia Program
Cornell University
Ithaca, New York
1971(C)	1971 by Cornell Modern Indonesia ProjectPREFACE
iii
Although numerous accounts have been published of the
genesis and character of the attempted October 1965 coup
in Indonesia, many important aspects of that affair still
remain very unclear. The fact that in most accounts so
much of the picture has been painted in black and white,
and in language of categorical certainty, has served only
to paper over the enormous gaps in established knowledge
of the event.
During the last few years transcripts of many of the
political trials held in the wake of the coup have been
released by the Indonesian government. The quantity is
so vast that as yet none of the attempts to reconstruct the
coup has evidenced a careful scrutiny and assessment of
this material. But although there now exists this plethora
of trial data, there are other documents of central import-
ance which have still not been made public. Thus, both
because of the sheer quantity of some of the materials and
the unavailability of others, the task of any scholarly
reconstruction of the events of 1965 remains enormously
difficult. Nor, of course, has the political climate in
Indonesia during the last six years been conducive to dis-
passionate research utilizing interviews with anything
like a cross-section of Indonesian opinion. It will
probably be some time yet before a reasonably comprehensive
and sound analysis can be written.
In his present introduction to the paper here published,
Professor Anderson describes the circumstances surrounding
its preparation and the reasons why it was not previously
published. Indeed, because of the avowedly tentative and
provisional character of this early effort, there would
normally be no reason to publish it any more than there
would have been to publish the scores of other preliminary
drafts prepared over the years by scholars working in the
Cornell Modern Indonesia Project. However, this draft has
been given a unique prominence. For it has been singled out
by a number of those who have subsequently written accounts
of the attempted coup, among whom all too many have misrep-
resented the authors' ideas and cited words or phrases of
theirs out of context. Thus there are special reasons now
for publishing this draft in its entirety--in fairness both
to the authors and to all those interested in the events of
1965--so that readers can make their own assessments rather
than having to rely upon doctored extracts and tendentious
interpretations by writers hostile to the hypotheses advanced
by its authors.iv
I have found myself. ih*.disagreetaertt withrjWPjf.Q?1 the
views presented in this paper; however, T believeitjiat
despite the limited materials available to the authots
over the few months that they collected and analyzed their
data, this draft, which they wrote at the end of 1965,
contains a number of important insights and a considerable
amount of significant data which other writers have not
taken into account. Thus, those interested in understanding
the attempted coup of 1965, particularly if they bear in
mind the caveats of Professor Anderson's present intro-
duction, should find this paper useful.
Over the past few years Mr. Anderson and Miss McVey
have been engaged in collecting and analyzing the more
recently available materials bearing on the attempted coup
with the object of writing a comprehensive in-depth study
of that event and its background. On the basis of the high
level of scholarship evidenced in their previous publications,
I expect that their study when completed will be the soundest
and most comprehensive yet to appear.
George McT. Kahin
Djakarta
June 2, 1971V
INTRODUCTION
In the immediate aftermath of the abortive "coup" of
October 1, 1965, it was plain that a major turning-point
in the history of Indonesia had occurred. But, if this
was clear, virtually everything else about Lieutenant
Colonel Untung's September 30th Movement was obscure, both
to outside observers and to the vast majority of Indonesians.
Next to nothing was known about the identity and history of
Untung himself, or of his closest associates, their motives
and aspirations, and their relationships to the major long-
standing protagonists in the Indonesian political drama.
The obscurity that surrounded Untung's movement, combined
with its historic importance as the catalyst for the in-
auguration of military hegemony in Indonesia on the ruins
of Sukarno's Guided Democracy, immediately made it the
object of widespread discussion and speculation. It was
in order to develop some factual basis for a more informed
discussion of the September 30th Movement, and also to work
out some preliminary ideas about its genesis and place in
Indonesian political history, that in the last three months
of 1965, Ruth McVey, Frederick Bunnell and I began to go
carefully through the metropolitan and provincial Indonesian
press, exchanging information as we proceeded. It soon
became clear that in spite of our rather different approaches,
we were coming to quite similar conclusions. The ideas we
developed were presented at a number of informal seminars at
Cornell University, and, while they were criticized sharply
in many important respects, the response was favorable enough
to encourage us to circulate them to a somewhat wider group
of friends and colleagues for their information, comments and
criticisms. Accordingly, Ruth McVey and I wrote up the two
pieces, which together form the text that follows.
Because of the provisional character of our analyses,
and because of their controversial conclusions, we asked our
colleagues to treat them confidentially. At that time,
January 1966, large-scale massacres were taking place in
Indonesia, and it seemed not impossible that in such an
atmosphere, if it became known that we had presented a
hypothesis about the "coup" which ran counter to the official
version, friends and acquaintances of ours, who had no know-
ledge of our analysis, might yet be held accountable. Our
expectation that our text would remain confined to a small
group of friends and colleagues soon proved to be illusory.vi
At least one copy was reproduced in quantity without the
permission or the knowledge of ourselves and our colleagues,
and was subsequently circulated in Indonesia and elsewhere.
It rapidly acquired some notoriety as the so-called "Cornell
Paper."
Since that time, repeated, and often highly distorted,
reference has been made to this "Cornell Paper" in the
growing body of literature on the Untung "coup." It is,
in part, in order to rectify these distortions for the
historiographic record that we are publishing the "Cornell
Paper" at this late date. So that the record wiil be
absolutely clear, no attempt has been made to improve, update
or otherwise change the original text, even though, as a
rough draft intended for circulation among close friends and
colleagues, it contains some off-the-cuff remarks couched
in an informal style which would be quite out of place in
a regular academic presentation.
Historiography aside, we believe that our text has intrinsic
scholarly value in itself. Since it is based in considerable
degree on an intensive combing of the contemporary (September-
December 1965) metropolitan and provincial press, it contains
significant data which has not been published elsewhere and
may be of use to other students of the October 1, 1965 Affair.
This data may be the more useful insofar as no full-length
scholarly study of the Affair has yet appeared, though five
years have elapsed since Untung's movement collapsed.
Our text also focusses on certain aspects of Indonesian
politics which have been somewhat neglected in the scholarly
literature. The first of these is the political volatility
and complexity of the Indonesian military. That this aspect
of Indonesian politics should have been largely overlooked
is all the more surprising in that the history of the Army
in particular has been marked by intermittent turmoil from
the moment of its formation in 1945. The July 3, 1946 Affair,
the 1948 Madiun Affair, the October 17, 1952 Affair, the
June 27, 1955 Affair, the August 13, 1956 Affair, the abortive
November 1956 coup, the military dissidence in the Outer
Islands in 1957 and the PRRI-Permesta Rebellion of 1958
represent only the major crises that the Army experienced
as it transformed itself from a decentralized, popular
guerrilla force into a more professional centralized ruling
group. While a great deal of attention has been paid to somevii
of the other major actors in Indonesian politics, most
notably President Sukarno and the Indonesian Communist
Party, no comparable attention has been devoted to the
politics of the group that brought about their downfall.
If our text helps to stimulate serious political and
sociological study of the Indonesian military, it will
have served a useful function.
Secondly, our study tentatively tries to develop a
perspective on Indonesian politics which does not concen-
trate exclusively either on the metropolitan elite in
Djakarta or on isolated provincial centers, but rather on
the frequently antagonistic interaction between the two.
This perspective would highlight the great cultural chasm
between the Westernized, polyglot and commercial world of
the capital city and the traditionalist, but often radical-
populist society of the impoverished Javanese hinterland.
Existing studies of Indonesian political culture have
tended to stress the vertical cleavages between the santri
and abangan aliran, inter-ethnic competition, or the con-
flict between "Javanese-aristocratic" and "Islamic-
entrepreneurial" orientations. What we are suggesting
here is that the rapid social and political changes that
have taken place since independence have generated a new
type of cleavage, in part rooted in older divisions, but
primarily deriving from the ambiguous position of Djakarta
as the border area between the world of the great powers
and the world of rural and small-town Java. Looked at
another way, we are proposing that Java is just as much a
daerah (region) vis-a-vis the center as are the various
Outer Islands, and that it has its own style for expressing
its daerah-ist dissent.
If these are the strengths of the text as they appear to
us in 1971, we are no less aware of its many weaknesses.
We probably concentrated too much on events in Central Java
at the expense of other provinces as well as the capital
city. The text clearly suffers from a serious lack of
knowledge of the internal politics of the Indonesian Air
Force, Navy and Police, all of which took a hand in the
crisis. Because we were primarily concerned with discovering
as much as we could about Untung and his friends, we neglected
to offer any extended or sophisticated analysis of the
dynamics of late Guided Democracy. We paid insufficient
attention to the activities of Sukarno, the Army High Command,
the Communist and other maior political parties, in the
months prior to the "coup. The result of this concentrationviii
on Untung and his associates is that the major groups of
Indonesian politics emerge in the text surrounded with a
certain aura of passivity. While it may indeed be that
Sukarno, the Generals, the Communist leaders and others
were as bewildered on October 1, 1965 as the text suggests,
this should not obscure the fact that all of them had been
engaged for months and years beforehand in complex
political maneuverings which in their totality generated
the situation which led Untung to act.
Furthermore, the data on which our text is based, while
clearly important, are partial in their scope and do not
include the great mass of material contained in the tran-
scripts of the political trials that have been held since
early 1966. Furthermore, our subsequent research on
developments in the last years of Guided Democracy has
convinced us that parts of our analysis were unbalanced
and overly schematic. We regret that pressures of other
academic commitments have so far prevented us from publish-
ing an up-to-date analysis which would take full account of
the new data now available. But it is the hope of Ruth
McVey and myself that we will be able, in the not too distant
future, to prepare the lengthy study that the subject deserves.
Benedict R. Anderson
Cornell University
June 1971TABLE OF CONTENTS
PART I
The Coup of October 1, 1965
page
THE CONSPIRATORS:	1
Their Milieu	1
The Conspirators	6
Motivation	7
The Plan	8
THE RAIDS:	12
General Yani	12
General Soeprapto	13
General Parman	13
General Soetojo	14
General Pandjaitan	14
General Harjono	15
General Nasution	16
THE DUPES ARRIVE AT HALIM	18
HALIM:	MURDERS AND DISCUSSIONS - THE STRATEGY OF THE COUP	21
THE COUP PROCEEDS:	ALARUMS AND EXCURSIONS	26
THE PRANOTO APPOINTMENT	28
THE COUNTER-COUP	32
SOEKARNO ABANDONS HALIM	4l
CENTRAL JAVA:	46
Semarang	46
Salatiga	47
Jogjakarta	47
Surakarta	48
THE COLLAPSE OF THE COUP	54
THE RECKONING WITH THE PKI	60
Footnotes	65
PART II
Alternative Possibilities
THE PKI, ACTING INDEPENDENTLY TO SEIZE POWER	89
A PLANNED MOVE BY THE PRESIDENT AGAINST THE ARMY,
WITH OR WITHOUT THE PKI
95THE UNTUNG GROUP, ACTING INDEPENDENTLY	TO	SEIZE	POWER	105
AN UNPLANNED MOVE BY THE PRESIDENT, GENERATED
—' SPONTANEOUSLY OR HTSmEHS'-------------------------------------- 107
Footnotes	116
APPENDICES
THE FIRST UNTUNG PROCLAMATION	121
DECREE NO. 1 ON THE ESTABLISHMENT OF THE INDONESIAN
REVOLUTION COUNCIL	123
DECISION NO. 1 CONCERNING THE COMPOSITION OF THE INDONESIAN
REVOLUTION COUNCIL	124
DECISION NO. 2 CONCERNING DEMOTION	AND	PROMOTION	IN	RANK	126
AFFILIATIONS OF MEMBERS OF THE INDONESIAN	REVOLUTION COUNCIL	127
THE HARIAN RAKJAT EDITORIAL AND PARTY ATTITUDES DURING THE COUP 131
~ Footnotes	148
THE NJONO CONFESSION	157The Coup of October 1, 1965The Coup o£ October 1, 196S
The Conspirators
1
Their Milieu
"Forbidden to them was the land o£ West
Java, all of it..."
- Nagarakrtagama, 16, II, 3.
The Seventh Division of the Indonesian Army, generally
known as the Diponegoro Division, has always been the least
approachable and most difficult to understand of the major
territorial units of the Indonesian military. The reason for
this is that it is the Division of Central Java, and fully
reflects the complexities and withdrawn character of the
civilization of this region. Like the Sixth (Slllwangi)
Division in West Java and the Eighth (Brawldjaja) Division
in East Java, Diponegoro is an integral part of the local
landscape, and its internal structure and political tendencies
closely mirror the society in which it is situated.
The most important single political fact about the region
of Central Java is that unlike East Java it has no universally
recognized political centre. Political power is divided between
Semarang, the administrative capital, Jogjakarta, the capital
of the revolutionary period, and Surakarta, the old "magical-
religious" centre of Central Java. In spite of Semarang*s
'secular' ascendancy, it is without any moral or historical
significance for the heartland Javanese, being largely Chinese
and pas 1s1r in culture, and predominantly commercial in its
orientation. Jogjakarta, thanks to the great services per-
formed by its Sultan during the nationalist revolution, forms
what amounts to a province within a province, (since its Head,
the Sultan himself, has equal rank with the Governor of Central
Java), and largely runs its own affairs without interference
from Semarang. Though the Sunanate in Solo has completely
collapsed as a political entity, and Solo itself now comes
directly under Semarang, the Solonese feel themselves to be
the legitimate elite of Central Java, in strong rivalry with
Jogja, and with considerable disdain for Semarang. These
loyalties are not simply ones of municipal pride and local
12
patriotism. They also reflect powerful historical and cultural
differences, which are narked externally by clear differences
in speech and dress, and internally by sharp contrasts in values,
lifestyle and psychology. Thus unlikethe relatively harmonious
and politically united areas of Priangan and East Java, Central
Java is divided territorially and culturally into at least three
major spheres:	1) the Pasislr residencies of Pekalongan, and
Pati; 2) the Jogjakarta-orlented residencies of Banjumas, Kedu
and the Special District of Jogjakarta; 3) the Residency of
Surakarta.
ant figures in the
outside this area,
By what appears at
in effect reflects
In spite of the formal suzerainty of Semarang, every Central
Javanese is aware that the old ruling class of Java was and is
centred in the two royal capitals, and few if any of the domin-
political structure of Central Java come from
even though they may go to work in Semarang.
first sight to be a coincidence, (but which
closely the Javanese stereotypes of the
Jogjanese and Solonese,2 the "Jogjanese" have made the military
their bastion of strength, while the "Solonese1* have moved al-
most entirely into civil administration and politics. Every
officer who has held the position of Central Javanese Divisional
Commander has come from the "Jogja-Banjuuas-Kedu" area, start-
ing with Gatot Subroto (Banjumas) 1950-2, Bachrun (Banjumas)
1952-6, Suharto (Jogja) 1956-9, Pranoto (Jogja) 1959-61,
Sarblnl (Kedu) 1961-4, and Surjosumpeno (Kedu) from 1964 to
the present. The former Commander-In-Chief of the Indonesian
Army, General Sudirman, also hailed from Banjumas.^
The fact then that the dominant figures in Diponegoro
politics from the start have been "Jogja" types and have stemmed
from the Jogja-Kedu-Banjumaa area, has not only kept leadership
confined to a relatively small group, but has also influenced
the types of soldier who make successful military careers in
Central Java. This is all the more important since Jogjakarta
itself commands great loyalty as the centre of Republican re-
sistance to the Dutch. Most of the senior officers in the
Diponegoro Division began their careers as revolutionary
guerrillas, and the mystique of the revolutionary army mmains
very strong in this group. The ideal commander of the Diponegoro
Division is a man whose revolutionary career, is without blemish,
and whose manner of living and command conforms most closely
to the "Jogja" ideal:	taciturnity, decisiveness, simplicity,
directness, proven personal courage, and devotion to his men.
How Important this is, we shall see below.
By contrast to the other ethnic Javanese Division, Brawidjaja,
Diponegoro can then be described as follows:	a) it is not uni-
centred, but is divided territorially across three distinct
cultural and political entities, b) it is not nearly as inte-
grated into the civilian political hierarchy as in East Java,
where marriage alliances through the old bupati families have
preserved better civil-military relations than anywhere elae in3
Indonesia* c) it is located in the region of Indonesia most
deeply rent by social tensions, where the population-food ratio
is at i18 least favorable, and where accordingly Communist and
anti-aristocratic sentiment is especially strong* (Whereas
East Java is far more prosperous and has a pronounced Islamic
character.) d) Whereas the Brawidjaja division is close to the
outward-looking pasisir culture of Surabaja and Malang, Dipone-
goro's heart lies in the Southern, inward-looking hinterland,
e) Central Java has been for centuries the seat of political
power in Java. It is thus Central Java, more than East Java,
which feels that its position has been usurped by Djakarta.
But it is the contrast between Diponegoro and West Java
that is really most significant. It is a difference that is
defined partly by the sharp psychological and cultural contrast
between the Sundanese and Javanese. West Java is prosperous,
exuberant, and strongly Islamic, where Central Java is poor,
introspective and strongly abangan. But perhaps more import-
antly the officer corps of the Siliwangi division, partly be-
cause of its superior education, partly because of its location
near the capital, has traditionally been internationally-
oriented, speaking mostly Dutch or Indonesian, and readily
adapting to metropolitan life styles and value-systems. In
Bandung and Djakarta one finds a majority of officers with
Westernized outlooks, expensive big-city tastes, ready access
to the funds and resources of the capital, and a relatively good
technical military education. In Bandung it has been possible
to have an outsider as Divisional Commander (General Kawilarang
from Menado), in Central Java it would always have been unthink-
able.
The language of Diponegoro is Javanese, not Dutch or In-
donesian. Its officers tend to regard themselves as the custod-
ians of the asl1 (genuine, original) Indonesian (read-Javanese)
army and its still unfinished revolutionary mission. It clings
to a conception of the military man in his relationship to his
subordinates and to the community which has less and less appeal
in Bandung and particularly Djakarta. In the "Diponegoro" view,
heavily influenced by both the experience of revolutionary war,
and the communal values of Javanese culture, the good officer
is Bapak (father) to his men, tied to them in a symbiotic re-
lationship of strongly emotional loyalty and trust. He is far
more than simply their commanding officer, he is also father,
friend, and source of both material and spiritual sustenance.
He is also deeply Involved in local community life, not set
apart in a "barracks career" of his own. He has responsibilities
to the community which can not be defined purely in military
terms.
Accordingly two general types of officer can be observed
within Diponegoro, which though they can be found to some extent
elsewhere, are particularly notable within its ranks. a) the4
true alat negara (instrument of the state) types. Usually
stemming from middle or lover prljajl (traditional literate
class) families, the alat negara types have an ideal of direct
service to the state in the most unpolitical sense—provided
of course that the state is sufficiently Javanized to command
their emotional allegiance. They are as likely to be anti-PKI
(left) as anti-Islam (right), not out of clear political con-
viction, but because of a deep intuition that both aim at the
destruction of the traditional Javanese prljajl-abangan order
which defines their being, in their value-system, it Is the
simplicity and singleness of purpose of the Javanese satrla
(warrior) which is so highly esteemed or against the supposed
crassness and luxury of mestizo Djakarta, b) the "Nasakom"
officers. Often stemming from the village rather than the town,
from the abangan or even Islamic "rakjat" rather than the
traditional ruling class, the Nasakom types share some of the
characteristics of the alat negara officers. But they are much
more politicized, more radical, more violently (Javanese) nation
alist. Metaphorically one could perhaps say that for them it
is less the traditional satrla than the Japanese commander of
the war years who symbolizes their idea of the role of the
officer. The Nasakom officers are often leftward-leaning, but
in an almost purely emotional sense, without any ideological
perspectives, puritanical and xenophobic, hostile to whatever
appears to threaten the surging onrush of the Indonesian re-
volution:	alien cultural influences, "modern" Djakarta em-
bourgeoisement, "liberal" sexual attitudes, etc., etc. Their
radicalism is more extreme - nationalist and even reactionary
than progressive-revolutionary in the Communist or Socialist
sense. (The parallel with the Young Officers of pre-war Japan
is not at all inapposite.)
For soldiers of this kind, revolution is more drama than
reconstruction, violent action rather than the transformation
of institutions. Soldiering itself is less a matter of tech-
niques and skills, than the development of moral and spiritual
faculties through a kind of modernized asceticism. A good
soldier is identified by the kind of man he is rather than by
his effectiveness on military exercises.
The hostility between officers of this type, children of
PETA and the revolution, and the "intellectual", Dutch-speaking
officers of the General Staff in the capital is an old one,
which existed from the day of the Indonesian Army's formation,
involving as it did not simply matters of personality and per-
sonal philosophy, but the whole future of the army and the
kinds of officers who would make successful careers within it.
The well-known "Affair" of October 17, 1952 represented a major
clash between two such groups, in which it seemed as if the
"Generals" had been thoroughly defeated. Yet within a few years
many of the key figures of the "Affalr"—mostly notably Nasution
Parman, Azis Saleh and Taswin--were back in the highest seats
of power, and their erstwhile conquerors (Lubis, Bambang Supeno,
etc.) were driven from their positions into obscurity or jail.^5
Furthermore the increasing centralization of power, funds, and
prestige in Djakarta from 1956 onwards steadily widened the
gap between the General Staff (SUAD) and these officers. There
was a growing feeling that they were being left behind, passed
over for promotions, relegated forever to the provinces, snubbed
by the political officers in the capital. (Again the parallel
with Japan is attractive).
With the regional crisis of 1956-1961, it appeared at first
as if great changes were nevertheless under way. The Diponegoro
Division gained in prestige from its share in the campaign to
suppress the PRRI rebellion. There was considerable turnover
at Army Headquarters of officers who had or were suspected of
having regionalist sympathies. Under General Yani, a brilliant
young Diponegoro officer from Magelang, then serving as first
Deputy to Nasution, a new SUAD was built up, heavily Javanese,
(particularly from the West of Central Java). But inevitably
the officers who were gathered around Yani in Army Headquarters
were the highly-educated, technically adept officers who had
had considerable American training, and who fitted easily into
Djakarta life. The new SUAD underwent rapid Djakartanization,
and was soon effectively absorbed into the Menteng elite. The
most striking example was Yani himself, who rapidly developed
into almost a caricature of the "corrupted” Diponegoro officer:
highly intelligent, polyglot, immensely rich, with two wives,
palatial homes and several cars, close to the Americans, shrewd,
cynical, ant 1-Communist and deft at political wheeling and deal-
ing. Many felt that it was these qualities which had allowed
him to become Commander of the Army over the heads of Generals
Sarbini and Suharto, less flamboyant figures, both of whom had
previously been his superior officer.
While the more technically proficient Diponegoro types
tended to move to Djakarta and there become absorbed, the re-
mainder stayed in Central Java, where for years social and
economic dislocation have been developing to increasingly alarm-
ing proportions. Under Division Commander General Pranoto
Reksosamudro, an alat negara type without a strong personality,
many of the younger Nasakom-type officers began to come to the
fore within the Division. These were influenced by the increa-
singly radical mood of central Java, but in their case the
impulse was mainly hostility to the political Generals in
Djakarta. The increasingly apparent conflict between Nasution
and President Soekarno undoubtedly helped to exacerbate this
radicalism, since, with all his regal paraphernalia, Soekarno
commands deep loyalties particularly in East and Central Java,
and in any case represents intuitive "revolutionary" Javanism
as against the "rationalism" of the "problem-solving" Westernized
Intelligentsia.
In 1961 Nasution was responsible for the removal of General
Pranoto as the Commander of the Diponegoro Division, apparently
before his due term in office was over. In sharp contrast to6
the usual practice, whereby the Commander's Chief of Staff moved
up to replace him when he retired, (Bachrun had succeeded
Subroto, Suharto Bachrun and Pranoto Suharto in this way),
Pranoto's Chief of Staff, Col. Sardjono was passed over and in-
deed subsequently moved to an obscure post as head of the Army
Historical Centre in Bandung. Pranoto's successor was General
Sarbini, hitherto Commanding Officer of the Brawidjaja Division.
Sarbini waa an old Diponegoro man, but it was almost unprece-
dented for any one officer twice to be made commander of a
Territorial Division. Sarbini is a tough, Nasution-minded
general, and was clearly moved to Central Java, in order to
put a stop to what was felt to be undesirable developments with-
in the Diponegoro command.
If one then can picture the Diponegoro officers slowly
dividing up between a "Djakarta" group making its career in
Djakarta or the Outer Islands, and a Central Java group con-
fined for the duration to the perimeter of that province, there
are nevertheless a number of key officers who do not fall clearly
into either category. The most important of these is General
Suharto. Known for his legendary personal courage (he led the
famous March 1, 1949 attack on Jogjakarta), personal simplicity,
directness and soldierliness, he was nevertheless brilliant
enough an officer to move out of the Diponegoro Division to as-
sume high positions in Djakarta, first as head of the Mandela
operation for the liberation of West Irian, and later of KOSTRAD
(the Strategic Army Command). Though he regularly deputized
for Yani when that General was out of the country, he remained
aloof from the SUAD, especially its "Politburo" (Generals Parman,
Suprapto, Harjono, Pandjaitan and Sutojo), confining himself
to strictly military tasks. With little formal education,
psychologically close to the "Diponegoro world," largely speak-
ing and thinking in Javanese, disciplined and upright, Suharto
managed to disassociate himself from the "renegade" Diponegoro
men whom Djakarta had absorbed. It seems to have been this
which preserved him from becoming a target of the conspirators
of the September 30 Movement.
ii
The Conspirators
"It was all talked over at great length,
no one feeling satisfied..."
- Nagarakrtagama, 71, II, 4.
The effective core of the September 30th Movement appears
to have been a small group of "young officers" at the Semarang
headquarters of the Diponegoro Division. These were 1) Col.
Suherman,5 First Assistant to the Divisional Commander, in7
charge of Intelligence and Security for Central Java* 2) Col*
Marjono, Third Assistant, in charge of personnel affairs* 3)
Lieut-Col. Usman Sastrodibroto, Sixth Assistant) in charge of
military-controlled civilian functional groups* Though they
clearly had friends and sympathizers in other cities of Central
Java, as ve shall see* one does not have to assume that many
officers were "in the know" at the beginning* In Djakarta there
were Col* A* Latief, Commander of the First Infantry Brigade
of the Fifth (Djaya) Territorial Command (the post involved
control of a number of mobile battalions in the city of Djakarta);
Lieut. Col. Utung, Commander of the First Battalion of the
Tjakrabirawa Regiment (Bodyguards to the President); Brig* Gen.
M. S. Supardjo, commander of the Fourth Combat Command in
Mandau, West Kalimantan) and, among a number of sympathetic Air
Force officers* Flight Major SujonO) Commander of the Guard at
Halim Perdana Kusumah Airbase just outside Djakarta* A larger
number of junior officers was also involved as it turned out,
but the abovementioned seven seem to have been the most im-
portant figures.”
Motivation
From the previous section it will be recalled that dis-
content with the General Staff and the Djakarta military was
ripe in Central Java*1 Promotions were slow and hard to come
by. Nasutlon himself had been in continuous charge of the
Army from 1950 to 1965 except for a short break between 1953-5,
while at the same time moving lower-level officers out after
two-year "tours of duty." Only the top staff men had been in
the same jobs for years. Hostility to what was believed to be
the luxury and corruption of the Generals was widespread. Con-
cern with the constant silent war going on between Soekarno and
the SUAD probable also played a role. Suspicions of the real
patriotism of the Generals, perhaps founded on memories of
October 17, 1952, perhaps fanned by PKI and/or PNI whisperings
about CIA contacts with senior officers, appear also to have
gained considerable currency. It is probably also that many
officers began to realize that from 1964 onwards the Army had
been dragging its feet on the sending of troops over the Kali-
mantan Frontier. Unaware of or perhaps indifferent to the
political and military reasons for this, the "young officers?
would easily interpret this as a sign of the venality of their
superiors. In such an atmosphere, with growing tension between
the SUAD and the President, it was easy for such officers to
persuade themselves of the danger of a coup some day by a Council
of Generals, probably in foreign pay. At the very least the
SUAD in their eyes was controlled by corrupt and less than
patriotic elements. Untung, Inside the Palace, but new to the
shifting currents of intrigue and rumour there prevailing, would
have been an excellent and uncritical pipeline to Central Java
of the suspicions and fears being expressed in circles closest
to the President.8
It is also quite possible that the group hoped to initiate
a "return to the spirit of Jogja," a drive to restore the
pristine purity of the revolutionary impetua of 1945* It is
fairly clear that they intended to form a Revolutionary Council
analogous to the Indonesian National Committees (K.N.I.) of
the early Revolutionary years, to supersede the Cabinet and
the provincial authorities as controlling executive bodies in
Indonesia* But from the proclamations subsequently issued by
the group it is evident that these "idealistic motivations"
were extremely vague and confused, and vere far less important
than resentment, ambition, puritanism and unanchored radicalism*
The Plan
"This then was the outcome of their secret
council, the essence of their deliberation,
shoving discernment••."


The basic difficulty confronting the conspiratorial group
was that their strength vas in Central Java, several hundred
miles from the capital city, with the generally "rightist" and
anti-Javanese Silivangi Division in between* The Diponegoro
Division as such had no military strength in Djakarta. The
second difficulty lay in finding the means to dispose of the
leading generals by surprise, since if any inkling got out of
what vas afoot, the plan would be easily scotched* It was
here that Untung proved quite providential. Untung had been
an intimate confidant of Suherman when the latter was still a
Battalion Commander, and Untung himself a Company Commander.&
Later Untung himself became Commander of Battalion 454, nor-
mally stationed in Srondol, some four miles outside Semarang,
and in this capacity took part in the Irian campaign.^ Later
still he became chief of Military Transport in the Diponegoro
Division^ before becoming, some time earfy in 1965, Commander
of the First Battalion of the Tjakrabirawa. With this appoint-
ment the Suherman group had a man ideally placed for their
purposes, close enough to the President to be able to follow
all his moves and, as part of his official job, keep an eye on
possible enemies of the President. He was also in command of
a crack battalion* Contact with Suherman was not difficult,
particularly since Suherman, as Chief of Army Intelligence for
Central Java, would be in constant contact with General Parman,
his immediate staff superior, and would thus presumably come
to Djakarta fairly frequently*
It vas also clear that the one occasion in the year when
Diponegoro troops could legitimately be in Djakarta was the
annual parade and demonstration put on by paratroop, cavalry,
armor and other units for Armed Forces Day October 5*9
Traditionally each of the three Java 0ivision8 sent one crack
paratroop battalion to Djakarta to take part* Suhernan and his
colleagues on the Staff of the Diponegoro Territorial Division,
particularly Col* Marjono, who was in charge of personnel, seem
to have arranged that the unit sent to Djakarta for the occasion
was Untung's former battalion 454, whose barracks were located
at Srondol, just outside Semarang* (It appears that contact
was also made with Major Bambang Supeno, Commander of Battalion
530 (Madiun), the Brawidjaja Battalion taking part in the
parade*)11 Untung was also put in charge of arranging a massive
"historical parade" which was to be held in Djakarta as part
of the Armed Forces Day celebrations. This placed Untung dir-
ectly under General Pranoto, who had overall responsibility for
the whole show. The Semarang group had thus a very short space
of time in which to act, roughly the two weeks in the year
when Diponegoro troops were legitimately in Djakarta. There
was one further advantage which the celebrations offered:	all
the generals aimed at would certainly be in Djakarta, and thus
within reach.*2
The essence of the coup plan, given these stringent limit-
ations, was as follows. The Generals considered to be "politi-
cal" would be the targets of carefully planned raids in the
middle of the night. They would be kidnapped and later either
held as hostages or killed, most probably the latter. At the
same time Untung would go to Soekarno and warn him that the
long awaited Generals' coup was underway, that the tanks were
rolling and that he must retire with Untung to a safe place
outside Djakarta, where he could be evacuated if need arose.
Meanwhile Battalions 454 and 530 would seize control of the
key buildings and installations in the centre of town, most
particularly the Radio Station. Soekarno would then be persuaded
to go on the air in support of the coup group, endorsing a
Revolutionary Council of patriotic elements, who had acted to
thwart a CIA-sponsored coup by the Generals. The public would
be too stunned by the course of events, and the Army too deci-
mated in its top leadership to do anything but acquiesce, pro-
vided that the authority of the Great Leader of the Revolution
was lent to support the conspirators' efforts. From this point
the fulfilment of the conspirators' alms would be easy enough
to accomplish.
For the practical accomplishment of this rather rough plan,
two difficulties had first to be solved. The first was ensuring
that a suitable sanctuary be provided for Soekarno, near enough
to Djakarta to allow him to be brought rapidly to the Radio
Station, far enough to allow the conspirators to "persuade" him
undisturbed, and where communications with Central Java could
be guaranteed. The obvious choice was the Halim Perdanakusumah
Air Force Base at Tjililitan, some seven miles outside Djakarta*
just off the road to Bogor. For this the cooperation of some10
Air Force officers was essential* Contact with certain people
at the air base vas therefore made, quite how we do not yet
know* It may have been through Untung's contacts with Air
Force officers during Combined Operations against the Dutch in
West Irian* It may also have been through PGT (Air Force
Paratroop) units in the Tjakrabirawa, or through some other
channel* It was felt that to guarantee full and effective con-
trol of Halim, it would probably be necessary to use the authority
of the Air Force Commander* Accordingly it was arranged that
Air Vice-Marshal Omar Dhani would be approached at the last
moment with a request for cooperation* Should he refuse or
hesitate, he would be taken, gently, but firmly, against his
will. Little is known about the political character of the Air
Force officers involved in the coup attempt, but it is reason-
ably safe to assume that they were of the same general outlook
as the Diponegoro conspirators, and appear to have been mainly
Javanese* The Air Force had a long history of enmity with the
Army, personalized in the decade-old feud between Nasution and
Suryadarma. Moreover, since Omar Dhani was the Supreme Commander
in charge of the North Borneo Mandala Siaga Operation in which,
as mentioned before, the Army leadership had been noticeably
uncooperative, it is only too likely that Air Force officers
would tend to feel that the SUAD was letting them down, and
allowing AURI to take the full brunt of the campaign alone*
One can assume that a combination of these factors explains
the presence at Halim of a small group of Air Force officers
who were in on the plot, and ready to cooperate fully with Untung
and his group.
The second difficulty lay in the fact that even with two
'’favorable" battalions in Djakarta, a certain percentage of the
Tjakrablrawa behind him, and an uncertain number of troops from
the First Djaya Brigade, Untung would have at the outside no
more than 2,500 (admittedly crack) troops, while, according to
General Umar W1rahadikusumah, Territorial Commander of the
Greater Djakarta Division, some 60,000 members of the Armed
Forces were stationed in the capital**3 It was clear that some
auxiliaries would be needed to help hold all the different
installations, guard Halim and carry out the kidnapping raids*
Now the one group in Djakarta with minimal military training
who could be absolutely relied on to help out an ostensible
rescue of the President against "rightwing" Generals, would be
radical youths with some military experience. These were con-
veniently at hand in the (mainly Communist Pemuda Rakjat)
volunteers being trained since July at the Halim Airbase* If
these could be mobilized, not only would the coup group's
military potential be considerably strengthened, but also the
PKI, once incriminated, would be virtually compelled to give
any political backing that the coup group might find necessary*
It would also help to persuade Sukarno that, with the PKI so
compromised, he had no alternative but to go ahead and back the
coup, if he was to preserve the fruits of his whole post-195911
leftward course from a violent rightwing reaction. Accordingly
arrangements were probably made with the Air Force (AURI) people
training these youths to have them at the ready. Since they
were being trained on a regular basis* no suspicion would be
aroused either in Army or PKI eyes if they were to be brought
to Halim sometime during the last week of September.*4
The final step that remained to be taken was to gather the
remaining conspirators to their places for the crucial hours.
The most important of those outside Djakarta and Semarang was
Brig-Gen. Supardjo* chief of the Fourth Combat Command in West
Kalimantan. He was accordingly warned to come to Djakarta by
an urgent telegram saying one of his children was sick. On
September 28th he left by air for Djakarta* saying nothing about
his departure to anyone.15 His role* as we shall see* was to
control the Palace and Radio Station during the critical hours
of the seizure of power.
Now all that remained to be settled was the hour to strike.
For the conspirators appear to have been convinced that once
Djakarta declared for them* a chain reaction would be set off
especially in Central Java* and that "young officer" elements
would everywhere follow Untung*s example and take power into
their own hands.
It remains to be explained why the night of September 30th-
October 1st was chosen for striking the actual blow. It is
possible that the answer is simply the banal one that it happened
to be the night when Untung himself was on night-duty at the
palace* and so could act with maximum freedom. It is equally
possible that the explanation lies elsewhere. A possible clue
lies in the curious fact that the coup in their announcements
refer to themselves as the September 30th Movement* although
so far as is known* no action whatever was taken on that even-
ing. It seems clear enough that September 30 was chosen because
it was the date on which the conspirators met and took the
emotional and irrevocable decision to move. One suspects that
it is possibly no coincidence that the night of the 30th was
also a Thursday night (Malam Djumat)* a time when* in universal
Javanese belief* magical forces are abroad* and spiritual
strength and support most readily obtained. Malam Djumat be-
gins at sundown on September 30th and continues till the new
day breaks on October 1. It is a night for melekan» the practice
of staying up all night in prayer, meditation or ascesis to
draw on the power of the supernatural world. We know that on
the fatal night both Mrs. Yani and General Parman, (and possibly
General Suharto) were engaged in melekan.16 It is unprovable,
but quite likely* that some of the coup group themselves were
similarly engaged, and that the crucial decisions were taken
on the basis of an intuitive inspiration arrived on that night,
whether by joint agreement or with the aid of a dukun of some
sort. September 30th would then have its own esoteric signific-
ance* indicating the moment of ilham or inspiration* and the
decision to act upon it.	"12
The Raids
"Now that the favorable moment had arrived,
the blameless company assembled, all in
order."
- Nagarakrtagama, 64, I, 1.
The base of operations for the raids against the Generals
was a training-field area called Lubang Buaja (Crocodile Hole),
within the wide perimeter of the Halim Perdanakusumah Air
Base, but reached by another road than the main approach lead-
ing from the Bogor Highway to the more important parts of the
base. Lubang Buaja itself is about seven miles from the Presid*
entlal Palace in Djakarta. The troops who had been given the
assignment of carrying out the raids seem to have included most
of Untung*s own Tjakra subordinates, some troops from Battalion
454, and from Latief's First Infantry Brigade as well as a few
Pemuda Rakjat auxiliaries, whose function was subsequently to
be confined to guard duty. All were assembled at Lubang Buaja
at about 2:00 a.m., and briefed on their tasks. They were
told that a Council of Generals' plot was being hatched against
President Soekarno, with CIA backing, and that it was therefore
essential to seize them in order to save the President and
nation. The men appear to have believed this story completely.
The officer directing operations seems to have been Untung's
direct subordinate First Lieutenant Doel Arief.l?
The troops were divided into seven units, each of which
was to handle one General. These units varied in size accord-
ing to which General they were assigned, those charged with
seizing Nasution and Yani being rather larger than the others,
since these two officers had guards outside their houses, and
some resistance might therefore be expected.
Preparations were complete about 3:00 a.m., and at ap-
proximately 3:15 a.m. the seven squads set off on the 45-mlnute
drive into Menteng, the elite residential area of Djakarta, to
carry out their assignments, arriving there about 4:00 a.m.*°
General Yani.The raiding party set off from Lubang
Buaja under the command of Assistant First Lieutenant Mukidjan
in two trucks and two buses, apparently numbering one and a
half companies. Driving down the Djakarta Bypass, and then
cutting through Djl. Rawamangun to Salemba, Dj1. Diponegoro
and Djl. Mangunsarkoro, they came to Yani's house on Djl.
Lembang. There the group divided into three parties, one
guarding the rear, one the front of the house, while the third,
under the leadership of Mukidjan and Sergeant (Second Class)
Raswad, entered the main courtyard and approached the house.
They managed to engage the guards in conversation, telling them
that they had an urgent message for Yani from the President.13
Seeing their Tjakrabirawa uniforms the guards suspected nothing,
until the invading group was near enough to overpower and dis-
arm them. In answer to their knocking the door was opened by
a servant, who was quickly pushed aside. Once inside the Raswad
group encountered Yani*s seven-year old son Eddy, who was up
looking for his mother. He was sent to waken his father. When
Yani emerged from his bedroom in his pajamas, Raswad told him
he was urgently needed by the President. Yani asked them to
wait while he bathed, but was told it was not necessary. When
they also refused to allow him to change his clothes, Yani
became furious and knocked one of them down. He then turned
back into his room and closed the glass door behind him.
Raswad then told Sergeant (Second Class) Gijadi to open fire.
Seven bullets through the door killed Yani immediately. Part
of the group, consisting of Raswad and Gijadi, as well as
Corporal (Second Class) Djamari, Chief Private Dokrin and
Private (First Class) Sudijono, dragged the body out and threw
it into one of the awaiting buses. The party then hurried
back via Djatinegara to Lubang Buaja, where Mukidjan reported the
results of his mission to Ooel Ariet.
General Soeprapto.^0 As General Soeprapto*s house was
without guards, it was thought necessary to bring only a re-
latively small raiding party, one Toyota truckload under the
leadership of Sergeants (Second Class) Sulaiman and Sukiman.
There were nineteen men in all, armed with Sten guns, Garrand
and Chung rifles* In spite of the fact that Soeprapto*s house
had been personally pointed out to Sulaiman by Doel Arief the
previous evening, the group nonetheless made two false stops
in Djl. Besuki before they reached the right address. Small
squads were placed to the right and left of the house, while
the main squad entered the front courtyard. There it split in-
to three, the first two groups guarding the side entrances and
the garage, while the third entered the house, under the direct
command of Sulaiman. Unable to sleep because his molars had
been removed quite recently and disturbed by the barking of his
dogs, Soeprapto went to the front door in his T-shirt, sarong
and sandals. Corporal (Second Class) Suparman answered his
queries, by giving him a military salute and reporting that the
President wanted to see him Immediately. Without allowing the
unfortunate General either to put on his clothes or even shut
his own front door, he was hustled into the waiting truck.
Mrs. Soeprapto, who had watched the scene through the window,
was upset and astonished, finally coming to the conclusion that
her husband was being put under arrest. She tried to leave the
house but was prevented by the raiders, who also destroyed her
telephone. Thereupon the attackers drove off to Lubang Buaja.
General Parman.^* It was about 4:00 a.m. when a group of
some twenty soldiers appeared outside Parman's house in Djl.14
Serang. Hearing a noise outside* the general* (who with his
wife was practicing melekan), went out into the garden. He
apparently thought that a robbery was being carried on at the
house of his next door neighbour. Observing a group of
Tjakrabirawa inside his own front courtyard* he asked them
what they were doing. They answered that they had been ordered
by the President to pick him up. Apparently suspecting nothing*
or giving no sign of it, Parman went back into the house to
change* and the main part of the raiding group followed him
in. In spite of his wife's anger at what she felt to be
Tjakrabirawa rudeness* Parman quietly changed into his uniform*
and whispered to his wife to contact Yani immediately. He
clearly thought that he was being arrested at Soekarno's orders.
But as they left the Tjakrabirawa soldiers picked up the tele-
phone and took it with them. Though Parman himself seems to
have suspected what was up* he put up no resistance and was
driven rapidly away to Lubang Buaja. It was not until Mrs.
Harjono came weeping to Mrs. Parman fifteen minutes after the
attackers had left* sobbing that her husband had been shot dead*
that Mrs. Parman began to realize what had really happened.
For* although she was annoyed by the behaviour of the Tjakrabirawa
troops* it was the President's habit to summon the Chief of
Army Intelligence at unusual hours* and till that moment she
had believed that as on many previous occasions he had been
summoned for a secret conference at the Palace.
2 2
General Soetojo. The attackers were led by Sergeant-
Major Surono who had received his orders from Doel Arief in
person. The group opened their assault by sealing off Djl.
Sumenep where their victim lived. Next the civil defence guards
on the street were disarmed one by one. Then* as in the case
of the other Generals* the group divided into three squads* one
each at the front and back of the house* the third charged
with carrying out the kidnapping itself. They persuaded
Soetojo to open his bedroom door on the excuse of bringing a
letter from the President* then seized and overpowered him.
He was blindfolded* with his hands tied behind his back* and
pushed into an awaiting truck* which then drove rapidly back
to Lubang Buaja.
2 1
General Pandjaitan. Unlike the other Generals* Pandjaitan
lived in the residential suburb of Kebajoran Baru* Block M« in
Djl. Hasanuddin. The house* in typical Kebajoran fashion* has
two stories* unlike the more old-fashioned one-storied houses
of Menteng. The Pandjaitan family's bedrooms were all on the
second floor. Next to the house* but within the same compound
there was a small pavilion where three young male relatives
lodged. Two trucks full of soldiers appeared in Djl. Hasanuddin*
and parked one in front of and one behind the house. After15
clearing the iron fence around the property, the attacking
squad made its way into the downstairs rooms, waking up an old
family servant and demanding to know where the master slept*
In fear of death, the servant told them that the Pandjaitans
slept upstairs. Meantime the household had been woken up.
Two of Pandjaitan's young relatives, apparently thinking that
the invaders were robbers, seized pistols and. courageously
hurried out to confront them. They were immediately shot down
by the kidnapping party. One of them, Albert Silalahl, later
died in the hospital from his wounds. Meanwhile, upstairs,
Mrs. Pandjaitan in bewilderment asked her husband whether some
kind of training was going on. Pandjaitan assured her that
there was nothing of the sort. Peering down, and noting
Tjakrabirawa uniforms below, he seems to have thought at first
that there was a message from the Palace, but the threatening
demeanour of his unexpected visitors soon convinced him of the
contrary. The soldiers below were apparently nervous about
venturing upstairs and loudly demanded that Pandjaitan come
down. This the General refused to do. Evidently suspecting
what was afoot, he first tried to telephone the police and
then a neighbour and friend, Col. Samoslr, but wi*-*1 no success—
the lines from his house had apparently been cut. He then
seized a Stengun to repel the attackers, but the weapon jammed.
He was only persuaded to come down when violence was threatened
against his family. Once in the courtyard he again tried to
escape or resist, so that, as the Catholic newspaper Kompas
put it, "his attackers had no other alternative but to shoot
him down." The corpse was thrown into a truck and carted
swiftly off to Lubang Buaja, in spite of the widow's request
that at least she be allowed to bury her dead.
2 5
General Harjono. The attack on General Harjono's house
at Djl. Prambanan 8, followed much the same pattern as those
already described. An eighteen-man party under Chief Sergeant
Bungkus surrounded the house. Acting on Ooel Arief's instruc-
tions, the group broke up into three squads. The main squad
then broke in and tried to see the sleeping General on the
pretext of a Presidential summons. Harjono seems to have
realized quickly that something murderous was afoot, for he
ordered his wife and children to the rear of the house, switched
off all the lights and waited for the soldiers to come and get
him. When they entered the bedroom he tried to seize a gun
from one of them, but was quickly overpowered and shot dead.
Again the body was thrown into the attackers' truck and taken
away to Crocodile Hole.
So far the raiders had been brutally but nevertheless wholly
successful. Three of the six generals had been killed, and
three captured without difficulty. But the attempt on the
seventh General, Minister / Coordinator of National Defence and
Security, General Abdul Haris Nasutlon, proved a most decisive
failure.16
General Nasution. ® The attack on General Nasution*s house
was carried out in the same manner but on considerably larger
scale than the other raids previously described* All in all about
one hundred men were involved, brought in four trucks, one
power-wagon and one Gaz (a type of power-wagon). As in the
case of Soetojo, the assault group moved to seal off DJI* Teuku
Umar where the General lived, and disarm any armed guards on
that street. It so happened that Dr. Johannes Leimena*s house
(no. 36) had a three-man guard, in recognition of his status
as Second Deputy Prime Minister. These guards were rapidly
overcome, though one of them (from the Mobile Brigade of the
Police) was killed in the scuffle. No attempt was made to
enter the house or to trouble Dr. Leimena further in any way.
The main objective, which was to prevent the guards at Leimena's
from coming to the rescue of Nasution, two doors down at no. AO,
had been successfully secured.
Out of the trucks there now poured a large troop of soldiers,
some from the Tjakrabirawa, others from the First Infantry
Brigade and Battalion ASA, and possibly a few Peauda Rakjat in
army uniforms. The four guards in the main guard-house, or at
least the two of them who were still awake, were approached by
four Tjakrabirawa men, who engaged them in conversation. While
their attention was thus distracted the guardhouse was surrounded
by thirty assailants and the guards overpowered. A fifth guard
in a so-called "monkeyhouse" lookout-post at the entrance to
the driveway was similarly overpowered by a group of about
thirty men. A squad of thirty penetrated the house from the
rear by the long path running down between it and the pavilion
by the garage. Another squad, fifteen men strong, entered by
the front. Others stood around the guardhouse, while about
thirty watched the street.
Inside the house the Nasutions were awake. Hearing the
sound of opening doors, Mrs. Nasution went out to investigate.
At the door of her bedroom she found a Tjakrabirawa soldier with
drawn gun standing facing her on the opposite side of the central
corridor of the house. She slammed and locked the door, im-
mediately quite certain that someone was trying to kidnap her
husband. Nasution refused to believe her, opened the door again,
and only just ducked in time to avoid a burst of fire. Mrs.
Nasution again locked the door, and a shoving contest ensued
for control of this door between those inside the bedroom and
three Tjakrabirawa led by Corporal (Second Class) Hargyono.
Meantime Nasution's old mother rushed into the bedroom from her
adjoining room, and burst into a loud lament, thinking her son
had been wounded. Mrs. Nasution warned her not to let the
assailants know that Nasution was there. Then Mardiah, Nasution's
younger sister, whose room lay on the "Tjakra-held" side of the
central corridor tried to run across into Nasution*s room carry-
ing Nasution's youngest daughter, Ade Irma, in her arms. As
she struggled to get through the door into Nasution's bedroom,17
Hargyono opened fire again, mortally wounding the little girl.
Mardiah herself was hit twice in the hand. While the Tjakrablrawa
still struggled with the door, Mrs. Nasution quickly led her
husband out to a previously arranged escape entrance, at the
side of the house, adjoining the residence of the Iraqi Ambas-
sador (no. 38). As he began climbing over the wall, he was
shot at by the soldiers behind the guardhouse. However he
succeeded in scrambling over at the cost of a broken ankle and
thereafter lay hidden in the garden of his foreign neighbour.
The soldiers who fired at him seem to have had no idea who it
was they were shooting at--probably little more than a moving
shadow.
Clutching her bleed
hurried to the telephone
entered from the back of
fore they dared enter.
Nasution was. She told
fused to believe her and
Whistles were then heard
house, and Mrs. Nasution
her wounded daughter and
lng child
to call a
the house
They insis
them he wa
continued
summoning
was not p
a servant
in her arms, Mrs. Nasution
doctor, but soldiers now
, firing several bursts be-
ted that she tell them where
s out of town, but they re-
to search the large house,
them to the front of the
revented from driving out with
to the Army Hospital.
Meanwhile in the two pavilions at the south side of the
house, confusion reigned. The guard at the garage, seeing what
he was up against, ran back to the chauffeurs to warn them
what was afoot. Nasution's eldest daughter, Janti, hearing
shots, fled to the room of Nasutlon*s Adjutant, Lieutenant
Pierre Tendean, in the front pavilion. He told her to hide
under his bed, and himself went out to meet the attackers with
his Garrand rifle. He was immediately overpowered. It appears
that Tendean looked enough like Nasution in the dark to be
taken for him. Though doubts were expressed by some of the
soldiers, time was pressing, and accordingly they bundled
Tendean into a truck and the convoy set off for Lubang Buaja.
It was just 4:08 a.m.
At 4:09 a.m. a so far untouched member of the household,
Hamdan, contacted the Djakarta Territorial Commander,
General Umar Wirahadikusumah, on the special KOTI communications
apparatus, and warned him what had happened. About 4:30 a.m.
Umar himself appeared, and shortly afterwards five tanks arrived,
two to guard the house, and three to pursue the raiders who had
been seen setting off in the direction of Bogor or Bekasi. A
little later a contingent of marines showed up to strengthen
the guard. But it was only about 6:30 a.m. that Nasution felt
it was safe to make himself known, even to Umar. He was then
quickly taken away to a secret hiding place, since it was felt
that otherwise a second attempt would soon be made on his life.
It was not till 7:00 p.m. that night that he rejoined the main
body of the army.18
The fleeing trucks evidently managed to evade their pursuers
since they all arrived safely back at Lubang Buaja at about
5:15 a.m., to find the other squads also assembling and report-
ing that their missions had been successfully accomplished.
The Dupes Arrive at Halim
"In the stories that one hears there may
be much that is false..."
- Nagarakrtagama, 39, III, 2.
Simultaneously with the raids on the houses of the Generals,
Untung's forces, particularly the paratroop battalions 454 and
530 were fanning out in the centre of the town and seizing
control of the most important installations, above all the
Palace and the Radio Station. Telephone lines were cut at
Gambir Station and armed guards were set up at important inter-
sections. In some places armed Pemuda Rakjat boys, issued arms
by the Air Force,^ helped eke out shortages in better-trained
manpower. Within a very short time the centre of the city was
under the control of the conspirators.
In another part of town, a rather different manoeuvre was
taking place, namely the polite "couping" of Air Vice-Marshal
Omar Dhani, Commander of the Indonesian Air Force. We have al-
ready seen how there was a long history of Army-Air Force
rivalry and dislike, dating back at least to the Inglorious
role of Air-Marshal Surjadarma in the fall of Jogjakarta on
December 19, 1948. It has been suggested also that these
enmities were fed by the equivocal support provided for Air
Force leadership of the North Borneo campaign. We should not
forget also that it was Nasution and the Navy who forced the
retirement of Marshal Surjadarma after the Arafura Sea affair,
in January, 1962, when Air Force "negligence" had caused the
death of Rear-Admiral Jos Sudarso at the hands of the Dutch.
The succession of Omar Dhani to the post of Air Force
Commander had scarcely improved the situation. Though not
closely identified with the Surjadarma group, he was above all
a creature of the President, without strong character or power-
ful personal following. Since he depended completely on the
President for his position, he was generally amenable to Pre-
sidential influence. At least from late 1964 onwards, it was
clear that in public at least the Air Force under his leader-
ship was making conscious advances to the "left", evincing no
open hostility to the idea of Nasakomlzation of its officer
corps, and giving public approval to the idea of a Fifth Force
of Volunteers, outside the existing four Armed Services.28
Moreover SERBAUD, the union of Air Force Department Workers,
was an important constituent element in the SOBSI Federation
of Trade Unions, and clearly under PKI influence. The contrast19
with Army reactions to Presidential pushing on these questions
was striking, and It was no secret that the SUAO had little
use for Dhanl and his group. At the same time Dhanl was
notorious In Djakarta for his luxurious "Solonese" style of
living, "feudal" background and Indecisiveness.
Thus while the top Air Force leadership could In no sense
be regarded as "leftist”, Institutional rivalry with the Army,
personal feuds, the political weakness of Omar Dhanl, and the
manoeuvrings of the President had created a situation where the
Air Force could be counted in the Presidential camp in the
struggle with the Army. And below the top levels one found a
stratum of officers very much of the Untung mentality, though
possibly more genuinely leftist in their orientation. In any
case a combination of these factors led the Air Force to work
out an arrangement with the PKI, sometime in the summer of
1965, whereby AURI would give field training to some lower-
level PKI cadres.29 Candidates were apparently selected by the
local PKI chiefs, and the volunteers signed up for training on
party instructions. Training began in early July and continued
up until the eve of October 1st.3® In many circles it was com-
mented that the Air Force command was preparing to reach an
accomodation with the PKI along the lines laid down by President
Soekarno.
Untung*s contact with AURI elements appears to have been
typically with officers of equivalent rank, Flight Majors and
Colonels. Little is known about them, but among the most im-
portant was Flight Major Sujono, who was in charge of units
guarding Halim Air Basest It appears to have been decided that
to retain control both of Halim and other key airfields in
Java (particularly Adisutjipto in Jogjakarta, Panasan in Solo,
and Maospati near Madiun), it would be essential to have the
cooperation (or at least the formal endorsement) of the Air
Force Commander. Accordingly, as part of the coup plans, a
group of middle-level Air Force officers approached Dhanl on
the night of the raids, probably about 2:00 a.m., to try to
persuade him to go along with them. From subsequent events,
it can be inferred that Dhani hesitated, demurred, and/or
asked to talk to the President. It is also possible that he
was not consulted at all, but was simply told the same story
that was told to other dupes that night--namely that the SUAD
had begun to move and that he was on the list of designated
victims. In any case at about 3:00 a.m., as the trucks began
to leave Lubang Buaja for their kidnapping missions, Dhani was
picked up by AURI personnel and taken out to Halim, to seal
the conspirators* control of the bases by his "authoritative”
presence.32
In his first radio announcement, Untung was later to make
the very curious statement that he had not only saved the Pre-
sident, but had also taken under his protection "a number of
prominent people in the Indonesian community who would have been after20
targets of the Council of Generals.Evidence that has sub-
sequently come to light makes it clear that these "prominent"
people were at least two in number:	Omar Ohani and Dipa
Nusantara Aidit, Chairman of the PKI. * It seems clear that
Aidit, like Dhani, was picked up to serve the purposes of the
coup group. The likeliest probability is that he was fetched
by Tjakrabirawa officers at about 3:00 a.m. from his home, told
that a coup had started and that the President wanted him to
join him at Halim immediately. Suspecting nothing, the PKI
leader obeyed the summons and was hurried out to Halim. The
presence of Aidit at Halim was most important for the coup
group. In the first place it placed the leadership of the
powerful Communist Party under their direct control, so that
subsequently there would be no possibility of the PKI taking
unwanted advantage of the situation, and turn the activities
of the conspirators to their own profit. In the second place,
Aidit's presence at the airbase would serve as a massive lever
in helping Soekarno to go along with the plans of the conspir-
ators, since a) it would serve to confirm the genuineness of
the alleged "Council of Generals" coup and the "sincerity"
of Untung and his friends and b) it would prove to the Presid-
ent that the PKI was inextricably compromised in the affair,
and therefore that if he wished to preserve his "leftward course",
Nasakom, and the Revolution, he had no alternative but to come
out in their favour. As we shall see in the course of subse-
quent developments, the policy of the conspirators towards the
PKI was simple and consistent: compromise the PKI vis-a-vis
the President, make use of it in the critical initial hours of
the coup, and never for one moment allow it to assume either
the political or military initiative.
The third major dupe of the conspirators was the President
himself. After his televised speech to the National Conference
of Technicians at Senajan Stadium, on the evening of the 30th,
the President made his way to the house of his Japanese wife,
Dewi, which is situated on Djl. Gatot Subroto, about half way
between Djakarta and Kebajoran.-^ Untung came to him there
and told him that the palace had been surrounded by troops of
the Council of Generals, that a coup was underway, and that it
would be best if he went immediately to Halim Airbase, where
he could be sure of being able to leave for a safe place should
it prove necessary. One story even has it that Sbekarno was
driven near enough to the Palace to see for himself the "strange"
troops surrounding it (actually of course Untung's men) and
was sufficiently convinced to be persuaded to hurry off to
Halim with Untung. ®
Subsequent events allow one to assume that Col. Sabur,
Commander of the Tjakrabirawa Regiment, was also routed out of
bed, and hurried to the airbase on the same pretext as the
others, again without time to check, verify or even clarify his
own ignorance.37 And so it was that Soekarno, Dhani, Aidit
and Sabur were assembled at the Airbase, probably at the quarters21
of Air Commodore Susanto, Director of Air Force Operations,^8
in any case at some distance (about one mile it seems) from
the place of execution of the Generals who had survived the
raids.
Halim
Murders and Discussions:	The Strategy of the Coup
"Crowded were the women, old and young,
taking up their places, close packed, on
the great open field.•.their hearts were
excited and rejoicing, as though they were
seeing such a thing for the first time.
Not to be described was their conduct.
- Nagarakrtagama, 84, VI, 4
and VII, 1-2.
It appeared now that all the cards were in the conspirators'
hands:	the military, the PKI and the President. It remained
simply to play them. The generals had finally to be liquidated,
the PKI compromised and the President persuaded.
The first two objectives were accomplished swiftly and in
one stroke. The generals who were still alive were done to
death, and people from PKI-affiliated associations (Gerwani and
Pemuda Rakjat) were involved in the killings. Confessions ex-
tracted by the Army from those alleged to have been involved
in the killings, give extremely varied descriptions of what
actually occurred and when the deaths took place. Times that
are given vary between shortly after 5:30 a.m. and 8:00 a.m.39
Almost all of the "confessees" were people who had been receiv-
ing military training at Lubang Buaja on a regular basis for
the past two months, and who indeed had been at the base at
least since September 28 carrying out their normal exercises.
The routine had evidently been established that they would be
picked up from their homes in trucks, lodged in tents at Lubang
Buaja for the duration of the training period, and then taken
home again in the same way.^0
As we have seen the coup group was seriously undermanned,
most of the regular soldiers and the Tjakrabirawa being needed
for the raids and for the control of the central parts of the
city. Although there were apparently some PGT (Air Force Para-
troopers) available, and Flight Major Sujono of the coup group
had control of the Air Base Guard, it was logical and useful
to use the local trainees at the base to flesh out the defence
of the base, should any difficulties develop.Being leftist
in orientation they could be relied on fully to support any
moves being made against the "Generals," particularly if they22
were told that they were acting to defend the President. This
seems indeed to be what happened.^
The trainees were woken up early on the morning of October
1st, and told to prepare to receive emergency orders. When
the trucks arrived bringing the six generals and Tendean, the
final disposition of the victims began. The corpses of Pand-
jaitan, Yani and Harjono were thrown down a thirty foot deep
well. (Part at least of the damaged condition of their exhumed
bodies can be attributed to this summary burial). The remain-
ing three were spat on and humiliated by the Gerwani and Pemuda
Rakjat people, who had been told that they were enemies of the
President. Soeprapto was shot in the back by Private (First
Class) Nurchajan as he stood by the edge of the well. Further
shots were fired at the body as it lay on top of the others at
the bottom of the well. This was done in ritual fashion, the
example being set by Corporal (Second Class) Djauri, who was
then followed by various volunteers.43 Parman was shot in the
back by Private (First Class) Athanasius Buang, at the orders
of Sergeant (Second Class) Sulaiman, who had led the raid on
Soeprapto's house. He was then finished off with three further
shots, and his body dumped down the well.44 Soetojo seems to
have been shot to death in similar fashion.^ Details on the
death of Tendean are less clear and consistent, but what seems
to have happened was that he was first badly beaten up, and
then as he lay on the ground (possibly already dead), Gerwani
girls, most of them still teenagers, were issued razors and
knives, lined up, and told each to take their turn at having
a slash.At least one of the confessees, a three-month
pregnant mother, fifteen years old, from Patjitan, said after-
wards that she was not told who the victims were, in fact was
slapped in the mouth by an AURI Sergeant when she had the
temerity to ask.
47
Once the generals were disposed of into the
well, the hole was filled in with leaves and rubbish, and the
group dispersed back to its tents, with orders to await further
instructions.
It is evident that these youths and girls were brought
into the act entirely without (their) previous knowledge of
what was in the wind. This seems also to have been true of
the Pemuda Rakjat people who were drawn into the raiding parties.^
The alleged 'ritualistic aspects' of the murders of the Generals,
Including choral singing of the old Pesindo song Darah Rakjat
by more than a hundred Gerwani women, indicates that the whole
scenario was designed as a "blooding" of these ignorant
wretches.^ As suggested before, the motive for drawing in
the Gerwani and Pemuda Rakjat was to incriminate and compromise
the PKI, while at the same time remaining in complete control
of the operation any not permitting the PKI any "patriotic"
public posturing. Since the training of these people was part
of an established program, set up on a routine basis between
AURI and the PKI, there was no reason for the participants to23
suspect that what they were being told to do was not part of
PKI instructions. They had no reason to suspect the motives
of their trainers, nor the danger of a provocation. It was
precisely the routine nature of the training periods, and the
strict instructions given by party leaders to cooperate fully
with the AURI people, which permitted them to be drawn blindly
into the affair.
One suspects that the PKI once again made the regrettable
error of believing that they were so much more intelligent
than the military that it would always be they who would use
the military, and not vice versa. It was a mistake which they
had already made in North Sumatra in December 1956 and in West
Sumatra after the PRRI rebellion, but the lessons do not seem
to have been taken to heart.Untung and his group were able
to make every use of the PKI that they wished, without once
allowing the PKI or its constituent units to comprehend what was
going on. The PKI's vaunted discipline was thus successfully
turned against it. The conspirators cut successfully into the
line of hierarchy and effectively assumed control of these lower
cadres without anyone being the wiser.
While the final solution was being applied to the unfortun-
ate generals by the unfortunate Gerwani and Pemuda Rakjat under
the supervision of AURI sergeants at Lubang Buaja, the third
objective of the conspirators--the winning over of Soekarno —
was being pursued less than a mile away.
It has been suggested that the overriding aim of the coup
group was to gain legitimation from the highest fountain of
political authority in Indonesia--the President's mouth. It
was essential to put out a proclamation of some sort as soon
as possible, outlining the objectives of the coup group, their
grievances against the Generals, and their position vis-a-vis
the President. This being the case--and it would be true for
any group in Indonesia attempting a coup de force--one would
have expected that when the conspirators made their first
public statement, they would, regardless of the facts, have
claimed that they were acting on orders from Soekarno, to pre-
serve Soekarno, to thwart Soekarno's enemies and to
develop Soekarno's revolutionary program for Indonesia. ret,
almost incredibly, when the group did finally go on the air at
just after 7:00 a.m., Soekarno's name was scarcely mentioned
except for the fact that he had been taken to a safe place by
members of his bodyguard. Now since it is inconceivable that
any coup group of whatever colouring would not try to make
maximal use of Soekarno's authority to swing public support
behind them, the only credible explanation for this startling
omission is that it was agreed upon between Soekarno and the
conspirators. * This in itself tells one a good deal about the
relationship between the President and his "benevolent" kid-
nappers, and the character of the discussions that took place
between them.24
Soekarno must have been willing to cooperate with the plans
of the conspirators or at least have expressed sufficient will-
ingness to persuade Untung to take the kind of personal respon-
sibility that he did in his initial broadcast.52 The President
clearly must have held out the promise of making a subsequent
broadcast announcing his reassumption of power* and endorsing
the aims of the coup group. But at the same time* he would
have told Untung that it would look much better if he* Soekarno*
was not directly associated with the removal of the Generals.
It must be made clear to the outside world that an attack on
Soekarno had been the objective of a dastardly "CIA-Generals"
plot, and would certainly have fallen victim* had it not been
for the decisive preventative action taken on his behalf by the
loyal Tjakrabirawa.
The question then arises:	why did Soekarno cooperate with
Untung at all? It seems obvious that he was desperately con-
cerned to gain time. Confused and uncertain not only about the
events of the previous night* but about the nature of political
reactions outside the airbase* he desperately needed to re-
establish contact with the outside world* and develop a clearer
picture of the real situation. One must imagine a situation
very close that in Rengasdengklok on August 16, 1945* when once
before the President had been politely kidnapped by a group of
wild-eyed history-makers* who tried to pressure him into making
a crucial decision. The example may well have been prominent
in the minds of Untung and his associates* and they have been
made sanguine by the successful outcome of the previous ab-
duction of the President—the Proclamation of Independence.
But it was not purely the effort to gain time which urged
Soekarno to offer cooperation to the coup leaders* though it
was very important. One must not forget that till considerably
later in the day the coup group virtually monopolized the
President's sources of information. In the absence of altern-
ative interpretations* Soekarno had little choice but to base
his calculation of political advantage on the probability that
his bodyguard was telling him the truth. Moreover* much of
Untung's story must have been only too credible to the President.
The existence of a CIA plot would not in the least surprise a
man who since 1958 had repeatedly warned of precisely this
danger. (Indeed he had been the target of a CIA plot in 1958).
Nor would Soekarno find anything strange in his specially
trained, heavily indoctrinated and deeply loyal Tjakrabirawa
taking action on their own if they learned of a threat to the
President's life. That his political enemies on the General
Staff had (as Untung would have told him) "resisted" arrest would
only confirm a picture of their basic disloyalty. And while
the killing of the Generals was perhaps regrettable personally,
the President could not have been entirely displeased to learn
that the main political obstacle to the full implementation of
his leftward plans for Indonesia's future had been eliminated.25
Instinctively he would have sensed the advantages that could
be won by exploiting this unexpected windfall. The possibility
of doing this successfully must have seemed all the more in-
viting since we can assume that the faithful Untung did not
report the one disastrous mistake that had been made--the failure
to catch and kill Nasution. This was a mistake Soekarno must
have bewailed every day since October 1.
But it was not only the fact that Untung controlled the
only sources of information which the President was receiving
that helped him to persuade Soekarno to cooperate. Another
important lever lay at hand in the person of D. N. Aidit. As
suggested above* the coup group did not bring Aidit to Halim
to mobilize PKI support for the September 30th Movement. No
effort was made to publicize his presence at Halim. No PKI
demonstrations were encouraged or even permitted. No contact
was allowed* as we shall see* between the incarcerated PKI
chief* and his confused* bewildered party subordinates just a
few miles away in Djakarta. The real reason for bringing Aidit
to Halim was not to buy public support* but to use against
Soekarno's anticipated tergiversations. Not only would Aidit's
presence at Halim confirm in Soekarno's eyes the sincerity and
genuineness of the coup group in their desire to protect the
state from the machinations of the Genera 1s--since the President
would see no reason to believe Aidit and Untung in a plot to-
gether--but it would also make him realize that the affair could
no longer be confined within the limits of the Indonesian Army.”
The ante would now be raised Immensely. With the PKI unequi-
vocally Involved* the fate of Soekarno's Nasakom design for the
future was at stake. Should rightwing elements in the army
get a chance to rally and strike back* civil war might well re-
sult. Once convinced that the stakes were this high* Soekarno
would have little choice but to act quickly and legitimize
Untung's actions with the blessing of the Great Leader of the
Revolution. Such was the benefit which Aidit's presence at
Halim seemed to offer to the conspirators.
The psychological "cards" were thus heavily stacked against
the elderly President in the early hours of October 1. Without
outside sources of information (Untung would have told him it
was still too dangerous to venture into the city)* impressed
by the "evidence" of a CIA-Generals' plot* confronted by Aidit's
bewildered (and bewildering) presence* by the facts of Pemuda
Rakjat participation in the security of the capital* perhaps
even in the arrests of the generals* and most Important of all
the deaths of those generals* what was the President to do?
Knowing that so much was at stake* possibly his life* certainly
his life's work (as he would think of it), should revanchist
elements in the Army (especially the regional commanders) gain
an opportunity to rally* the Impulse to try to take advantage
of Untung's actions and capitalize on the temporary decapitation
of the Army high command must have been very strong. The
possibility of buying "moderate" army support by strategic26
promotions to the top jobs in General Staff must have seemed
quite promising* Undoubtedly there were dangers involved in
taking this course* but the dangers involved in doing nothing
or withdrawing were evidently far greater* threatening the
collapse of his whole position and even civil war.
It is important to stress once again that Soekarno was
really without any independent sources of information about
what waa happening even within the perimeter of the air baae.
He was still forced to rely on Untung* and though aa the houra
passed his concern with the reliability of Untung's story may
have increased* he had nowhere else to turn:	the initiative
was still almost wholly in Untung*s hands (as in 1945 it had
been in the handa of Sukarni* Wikana and Chaerul Saleh). He
also had no reason to suppose that Untung was acting against
him. Indeed he had clearly acted again8t Soekarno's main
political enemies. It must also have seemed as if* almost un-
believably* Untung had managed to pull the whole thing off*
And so a deal* highly volatile in character* was arranged.
Soekarno's own natural caution and unwillingness to be directly
associated with the arrests and deaths* made him insist that
his name be given minimal prominence in the initial proclamation.
(He also desperately needed time to think and plan * to bring
events once again under his control). At the same time* though
he must have been increasingly aware that a kind of pro-Soekarno
coup was in progress* he also realized that to gain some ascend-
ancy over the conspirators' and to prevent them dragging him
into further actions over which he had no control* he must
clearly indicate his willingness to cooperate. This would be
the only way to make sure that Untung would take personal
responsibility for the initial broadcasts. It seems probable
that in exchange for this* he promised Untung that he would
ultimately reemerge and give his blessing to the September 30th
Movement. On their side* the conspirators certainly did not
want to antagonize him unnecessarily* provided they could be
assured of his ultimate cooperation. One must remember too
that in their minds they were acting in a sense for Soekarno*
and therefore had no reason to suspect him of anything more than
hesitancy and timorousness. Furthermore, as in the Rengasdengklok
affair* the coup group were hampered by the fact that Soekarno
was essential to their plans* that he was well aware of this*
and that therefore their effective purchase over him was clearly
limited. Thus the compromise that found expression in the early
morning broadcast of the September 30th Movement* was an excel-
lent mirror of the power relationships between the President
and the coup leaders at that time.
The Coup Proceeds:	Alarms and Excursions
"To attain these ends he tried all political
ways and means..."
- Nagarakrtagama* 44, I* 4.27
Once Che compromise had been reached, a courier was dis-
patched to the centre of Djakarta, with a text of the September
30th Movement's opening Proclamation. ^ with the RRI (Radio)
Djakarta building in the hands of the coup group, there were
no difficulties about broadcasting their message. Nonetheless
they were forced to wait until 7:00 a.m., because it was only
at that hour, by standard routine, that all local radio stations
in Indonesia go off the air and relay central Djakarta news
bulletins. This would be the first opportunity to get news of
the coup spread rapidly and "officially" across the archipelago
to actual and potential allies of the conspirators', particularly
in Central Java. As we shall see the RRI announcements were
the signal for Col. Suherman and his friends in Central Java
to take control in Semarang and later in Salatiga, Solo and
Jogjakarta.
The text of the First Proclamation is a superb reflection
of the political thinking of the coup group:	a fantastic blend
of "rightist" ideological slogans, personal grudges, moralistic
radicalism, and muddled obscurity. In accordance with the deal
worked out with the President, Untung (actually Untung's spokes-
man) assumed full personal responsibility for what he called
preventive action against a plot by a Generals' Council in the
pay of the CIA to seize power from President Soekarno, by using
the unusual concentration of military power in Djakarta for
Armed Forces Day as their instrument. He mentioned that the
Generals involved had been arrested, that President Soekarno
had been taken to safety, as well as a number of prominent
persons in the community who would have been the targets of
the Generals' plot.
Untung repeatedly stressed that the September 30th Move-
ment was purely and simply an internal Army affair (as indeed
it was) and that therefore all political parties, mass organ-
izations, newspapers and periodicals might continue their usual
functions for the time being. No attempt was made to impose
any form of press control, nor indeed any particular mobili-
zation of the press.
Untung also announced the formation of a Revolutionary
Council (whose personnel remained as yet unnamed) which would
"carry out the decisions of the MPRS and the DPRGP "--clearly
then a body somewhat like KOTI, as it has emerged subsequent
to October lstt No mention was made of the Cabinet.3
The level of political sophistication of the Djakarta
plotters at least was revealed by the curious paragraph on
foreign policy, which stated inter alia that Indonesia's "free
and active" foreign policy would continue unchanged, ("Free
and active" has been "out" as an obsolete, "liberal" attribute
of Indonesia's foreign policy for some time now!)3728
The emotional heart of the proclamation however was its
concluding section, when the deep hostility of the coup group
to the General Staff was openly expressed. The accusations
levelled against the Generals —aside from the CIA charges—
were oddly non-political:	they lived in great luxury, neglected
their subordinates, and humiliated women. There was nothing
about workers and peasants, almost nothing about Malaysia,—
simply the resentment of the "young officers" against their
"corrupted" superiors.
Meanwhile back at Hali
sure on the President conti
reached when Omar Dhani was
sign an official AURI prod
the September 30th Movement
ing up" any other branch of
need it.58 vie must assume
announcement because he bel
to come out for the coup le
the President was even more
still not work out, it woul
one another, with all kinds
ing ahead* Though the evid
President was able to hold
ment till after he made his
case the AURI's public supp
till 3:30 p.m.59 t
obstacle to this b
statement was fina
over RRI
physical
the AURI
m, the task of keeping up the pres-
nued. A major step forward was
induced, at about 9:30 a.m., to
amation expressing full support for
and offering AURI's help in "clean-
the Armed Forces which seemed to
that Dhani agreed to sign this
ieved that the President was about
aders. Once this was done, however,
"in a box" since, should the coup
d pit Air Force and Army against
of disastrous perspectives loom-
ence is not clear it seems that the
back public Issuance of the announce*
own promised re-emergence. In any
ort for the coup was not broadcast
hat afternoon though there was no
eing done. We shall see below why
lly broadcast when It was.
	As	the	mo
e v	ents	we re	si
rao	st of	the	in
1 n	vol ve	d in	a i
de	spera	tely	ne
no	rmal	cl rcl	le
Sa	stroamidjojo		
He	was	also	in
ou	t of	an appa	
re	sutne	contact	
of	Untung and		
tl	nued	at Hali	
cu	ss ing	the	ne
The Pranoto Appointment
"They discussed who it should be from the
Army who should succeed to the position of
the honoured Apat1h..."
- Nagarakrtagama, 71, II, 3.
rning passed Soekarno increasingly
ipping out from under him, that he
itiative, and that he was increasln
movement over which he had minimal
eded outside information and contac
of advisors. (Subandrio, Chaerul S
and Njoto were all out of town and
creasingly concerned to bring some
rent chaos. But there was no effec
with the outside world except with
his friends. Accordingly in the ta
m, Soekarno and the coup leaders tu
xt public announcements to be made,
rea 1	ized that
had	lo st
giy	being
cont	rol. He
t wi	th his
aleh	, All
ina	ccessible.)
sort	of order
ti ve	way to
t he	cooperation
Iks	that con-
rned	to dis-
the	question29
of setting up a Revolutionary Council on the lines proposed
by the September 30th Movement to act as an emergency executive,
the problem of finding a new army leadership, and the con-
tacting of civilian leaders of various political complexions.
While some members of the coup group were assigned to the
drafting of a supplementary proclamation (already promised in
the 7:00 a.m. broadcast), the main point of discussion was the
central one of the new army leadership.
From Untung's description of the key Generals who had been
removed from the scene, it was clear to Soekarno that the choice
open to him for a successor to Yani acceptable to himself, the
coup group and the army in general, was extremely limited. Of
the senior Army officers still alive, Generals Mursid, Gintlngs,
and Adjie, were strongly rightwing, anti-Communlst and had no
connections with Diponegoro. This left four possibilities open:
Generals Sarbini, Suharto, Umar Wirahadikusumah and Pranoto
Reksosamudro.
General Sarbini, Minister for Veterans* Affairs, while
possibly acceptable to the coup group, was not so to Soekarno,
since he was a strong Moslem and close to Nasution. These
would outweigh the advantages of being a former Diponegoro
Commander.
General Suharto, KOSTRAD Commander, would again probably
be acceptable to the coup group^O but Soekarno would have reason
to distrust his independent-mindedness and powerful personality.^
General Umar Wirahadikusumah, the Djakarta Territorial
Commander, would probably be acceptable to Soekarno, but as a
Sundanese from the Siliwangi Division, and without great personal
authority, he would not be likely to be wholly agreeable to the
coup group.
General Pranoto Reksosamudro, Third Assistant to the
Minister/Commander of the Army, seems to have fitted the bill
perfectly. A former Diponegoro Commander, reserved and un-
ambitious, with a simple-soldier image, without strong enemies,
amenable to both the wishes of Soekarno and the coup group, he
must have seemed th.e ideal choice. His political ideology, such
as it was, moved along strongly Javanese nationalist lines
with mystical overtones.
Provisional agreement seems to have thus been reached be-
tween Soekarno and his "rescuers" about the army leadership.
Soekarno made it clear that in the crucial days ahead it would
be essential to antagonize the powerful Territorial Commanders
in the Outer Islands as little as possible. Should any one
but a well-respected senior officer take control at the centre,
the consequences in Army circles in Sumatra, Kalimantan and
Sulawesi might be disastrous. No one would feel threatened by30
a nan 1
dent hi
Pranoto
This wo
should
figures
if nece
meats,
face. ^
ike Pranoto* Furthermore* for the interim* the Presi-
mself would assume direct control of the Army* leaving
as a sort of care-taker head of the General Staff,
uld allow further room for manoeuvre and discussion
the Territorial Commanders and other important army
prove obstreperous. Pranoto could later be replaced
ssary (or confirmed) according to political develop-
without anyone (except perhaps Pranoto) losing much
Having made this agreement it was obviously essential to
get into contact with Pranoto* and* should he prove unavailable*
with the second most acceptable figure* the Djakarta Territorial
Commander* General Umar. Couriers had to be sent out to con-
tact these men. Soekarno was able to take the opportunity to
insist that contact also be made with the more important polit-
ical figures in Djakarta* as well as the remaining Service
Chiefs. (Once again, the parallel with 1945 is remarkable:
in that crisis too* Soekarno refused to move till he had made
contact with older generation political friends and advisors
like Subardjo* Iwa Kusumasumantri* etc.) Short of actually
arresting the President, which the coup group were clearly un-
willing to do* there was little that they could say to gainsay
this proposal. They still had not won the crucial proclamation
from Soekarno. Moreover the coup leaders still had no real
reason to doubt Soekarno's sincerity—or the solidity of their
control over the city of Djakarta. Once again a compromise
was arranged. On the one hand* messengers would be permitted
to go out of the base* but on the other a further proclamation
would be made in which the President would publicly "re-emerge."
Accordingly Presidential couriers began to move back into
the bewildered city* some going to the Palace* others to the
homes of Leimena* Umar* Pranoto* Martadinata (Minister/Commander
of the Navy) and Sutjipto Judodihardjo (Minister/Commander of
the Police). These men were all summoned to Halim for round-
table consul tat ions.63 One of the couriers (from the Tjakrabirawa)
also found his way to General Suharto at KOSTRAD Headquarters.
As we shall see below* this courier and the exchange of messages
that he delivered was to prove the turning point of the September
30th affair* precipitating the whole collapse of the coup and
the apparently irrevocable disintegration of the President's
hitherto unassailable personal prestige and almost magical aura.-
At the same time it was arranged that a special message
would be put out over Djakarta radio (RRI), stating that the
President was safe and well* and continued to hold the top
leadership of the state. The statement*which was broadcast at
1:15 p.m. that afternoon,was read out in the Tjakrabirawa
Headquarters behind the Presidential Palace by Col. Marokeh
Santoso* deputy to General Sabur* the Tjakrabirawa Regimental
Commander. it was signed by Sabur himself. 431
The significance of the announcement was immense. It
foreshadowed the re-emergence of Soekarno behind the coup, just
as the coup leaders had hoped. Issued over the personal signa-
ture of Soekarno's trusted security chief, it carried far more
weight than anything that Untung himself could say. It made
it absolutely clear that Soekarno was not the victim of any sort
of coup, indeed that he was presumably in agreement with what
had been done.65 From Soekarno's own personal point of view,
the announcement was of great importance:	a) it served to
indicate to the public that the President was again assuming
the political initiative, that he was not a prisoner of events
b) being issued over Sabur's signature it would indicate that
it was not an "Untung*1 announcement, thus that the President
and Untung were not necessarily completely in league, c) Inas-
much as no reference was made directly to the coup or any events
connected with it, it did not yet specifically commit the
President to anything concrete, thus giving him further time
to explore and negotiate.
Thus at 1:15 p.m., when the Sabur announcement was broad-
cast (one assumes that it was written and signed about 12:30
p.m.) we find the situation at Halim as follows:
1)	The six Generals arrested early that morning have
been killed. Soekarno has been told of their deaths, but al-
most certainly not the precise manner of their dying. He has
probably not been told of the survival of Nasution.
2)	The Air Force, under Omar Ohani, has been induced to
sign a proclamation of support for the September 30th Movement.
3)	A broadcast has been made over the Untung-controlled
Radio announcing the arrest of CIA-suborned Generals, the
rescue of the President and other prominent political figures
from the clutches of the Generals, the formation of a so far
rather vague Revolutionary Council as supreme executive, and
the promise of further announcements.
A) A further announcement has been made over the Untung-
controlled Radio assuring the population that Soekarno is safe
and well and continues to hold the top leadership of the state--
implying strongly that he approves of what the September 30th
Movement has done, or at least that he is not its victim.
5)	After consultations with the coup group, Dhani and
possibly Leimena, Martadinata and Sutjipto Judodihard jo, a
provisional decree has been issued by Soekarno appointing Gen-
eral Pranoto as temporary caretaker of the Army under Soekarno's
direct supervision.
6)	Members of the coup group are busy preparing a second
proclamation of the September 30th Movement, naming the members
of the Revolutionary Council and detailing the broad outlines
of the political and military solution that they wish to have
implemented.32
The Counter Coup^
"It is clear that one meets with disasters
if one opposes his orders, or makes a
mistake in carrying out the set task.,."
- Nagarakrtagama, 92, II, 3.
The first actual anti-coup manoeuvres began at about 4:30
a.m. It was then that in response to a message delivered from
Nasution's house by one of his aides, General Umar Wi rahad i kusumah
appeared at Djl. Teuku Umar, with five tanks of the Seventh
Cavalry Battalion which he had summoned to the spot. As pre-
viously described, after learning what he could of the events
which had transpired at Nasutlon's house, he sent three of the
tanks off in pursuit of the attackers, who had evidently vanished
down the main Salemba-Matraman Raja road in the direction of
either Bekasl or Bogor. By 3:00 a.m. this pursuit had been
abandoned as useless. Shortly thereafter Umar proceeded to
the palace, but finding it in strange hands, thought it the
wiser course to retire either to his own house or to some
other safe place. ' Nasution himself remained hiding with his
broken ankle in the garden of the Iraqi Ambassador till after
seven o'clock, not even revealing himself to Umar, when that
worthy general appeared on the scene. His injuries were ap-
parently bad enough to put him completely out of the picture
for that and some days following, and he took no further part
in the events that followed. Of the remaining generals of
strong character and influence only Suharto and Sarbini remained
active and at large.
It was apparently about 5:30 a.m. that Suharto was woken
up by neighbours who told him that something serious had happened,
namely that seven generals, Omar Dhani and Leimena had been kid-
napped by parties unknown. Shots had been heard, and the
neighbours felt it their duty to report to him as he was head
of the local Rukun Tetangga. Shortly afterwards an unnamed
General, a colleague of Suharto's, came to his house and con-
firmed the news. Suharto then took the crucial decision to
assume personal command of the Army himself. Acting in the
best professional manner, once he learned that Yani was "out
of commission," and that thus he was the most senior officer
in the Army still at large, he climbed into his still chauffeur-
less jeep and drove off to KOSTRAD headquarters near Tjidjantung,
arriving there sometime between 6:30 and 7:00 a.m. Suharto
found KOSTRAD headquarters still quite unaware of what had
happened. The officers who had assembled there were reporting
for normal duty, probably in relation to the early morning re-
hearsal of the military manoeuvres scheduled for Armed Forces
Day to be held at Senajan Stadium.
The first step to be taken was to find out what had really
happened to the vanished generals and what the situation in33
Djakarta was as a whole. While discussions continued, the
first Untung broadcast came over the air, partly adding to the
confusion, but also giving some clue as to what was afoot.
Suharto's immediate reaction was to try to discover what ramifi-
cations the affair had, where President Soekarno stood, and as
he put himself "who was friend and who was foe." Suharto
started to get in contact with the various armed service units
in Djakarta. He first called Umar, and got from him a report
on what seemed to have happened, including the important fact
that Umar had been to the palace and found it occupied by army
units acting at the behest (apparently) of Brig.Gen. Supardjo.
In his subsequent account of events, Suharto reported that this
in itself was a shock to him, since Supardjo, as Commander of
the Fourth Combat Command in West Kalimantan (Nandau), was not
supposed to be in Djakarta at all, and if he had-found it
necessary to come should certainly have reported himself to
his superior officer, the Mandala Siaga Deputy Commander, Gen-
eral Suharto himself.
Having little idea of the real ramifications of the coup
forces, but by now fairly certain that a coup was under way, ®
Suharto told Umar that he was assuming supreme command of the
army, to which Umar assented, probably thankfully. He further
ordered Umar to confine all troops of the Fifth (Djaya) Terri-
torial Command to barracks; if any officers or troops had to
go out of their barracks they were to do so in civilian clothes
and leaving their weapons behind.
From this moment the outlines of Suharto's general strategy
were clear. His first effort was to avoid hasty action and try
to locate and isolate his enemy. Secondly he was concerned to
limit possible bloodshed, and to settle the whole matter in the
traditional manner of the Indonesian army--by a combination of
bluff, threat, negotiation and cajolement.
Having secured Umar's cooperation, Suharto then contacted
the Naval command in the person of Admiral Muljadi, First Deputy
to the Minister/Commander of the Navy and, like Suharto, a
Deputy Commander of the Mandala Siaga Command. He explained
the situation to Muljadi and won assurances of help. The navy
stood fully behind the army, and was willing to put what forces
it had in Djakarta under Suharto's control. Muljadi also agreed
to come to KOSTRAD Headquarters himself, to act as general
liaison. A similar arrangement was made with the Police. The
Commander of the Djakarta Police, Brig. Gen. Sawarno
Tjokrodiningrat, like Umar and Muljadi, agreed to confine his
men to barracks, keeping them off the streets until the affair
was settled.
It was with the Air Force that Suharto
enced difficulties. Just exactly what form
altogether clear* In the other three cases
immediately experi-
these took is not
the Services34
contacted immediately agreed to send liaison officers to KOSTRAD
Headquarters* The AURI people* whether at AURI headquarters
or at Halim Airbase* were either in the plot* in the dark* or
felt so insecure that they refused fully to cooperate with
Suharto.One gets the impression that Suharto got the '’run-
around*'* evasive answers* or possibly no answer at all* Ac-
cordingly he decided to send couriers to Halim airbase* probably
not so much suspecting that Halim was the centre of "enemy"
activities as because Halim* being about three miles away from
KOSTRAD Headquarters was the nearest important Air Force in-
stallation* This mission had no success* but Suharto did
eventually make some kind of personal contact with Air Com-
modore Leo Uattimena* another former colleague from the Irian
Barat campaign; but even here there seem to have been evasions
and obstructions. By this time* however* Suharto began to dis-
cern that the Air Force was a major element in the forces op-
posing him* and that therefore Halim must be an important centre
of "enemy" strength*
Shortly afterwards Suharto got definite word that Nasution
was safe* though injured* and that contrary to earlier reports
Dhani had hot been kidnapped but had merely been "taken under
the protection" of his own men.
Meantime in Djakarta* General Sarbini* the Minister of
Veterans' Affairs* heard the Untung broadcast while having his
breakfast. He immediately tried to call the Palace* Army Head-
quarters and KDSTRAD but in each case got no reply (the Central
Telephone Exchange was in the hands of the coup group and some
of the main lines had been cut). Annoyed rather than anything
else* he drove off to the Palace determined* as he put it* to
warn Untung against "fooling around with the statet"'* He
managed to avoid the armed units on guard and entered the Palace
compound by Dj1. Veteran. There he found a number of high
officials* including Brig. Gen. Rubijono* former police
chief Sukarno Djojonegoro (who had apparently come to fulfil
breakfast engagements with the President77) and Brig. Gen.
Supardjo. Sarbini Immediately asked Supardjo where the Presi-
dent was and where was Untung? Supardjo answered that the
President was inside* adding* rather feebly* "What Untung?"
Evidently alarmed by the presence (and suspicious attitude) of
one of the Army's best known and most popular generals within
speaking distance of the troops of the crucial Diponegoro
Battalion 454, Supardjo went inside the palace in order to ar-
range for Sarbini's arrest. But a Military Police officer in
the Tjakrabirawa unit on guard at the palace entrance came to
Sarbini* identified himself as an old Diponegoro man, and told
him that the President had left early that morning. He warned
Sarbini that he would be arrested by Supardjo if he stayed.
Sarbini* after first being enraged by what he regarded as a
Junior officer's impertinence* had the presence of mind finally
to take the hint. He jumped into a jeep and drove off to his35
Ministry. Supardjo sent two jeep-loads of Tjakrabirawa troops
after him, but he managed to evade them by changing vehicles
and eventually found his way to KOSTRAD Headquarters.
Meantime Suharto was methodically proceeding to isolate
the units with which he had to deal. From descriptions of the
insignia on the uniforms of the soldiers that Umar and others
had observed at the key installations in the centre of the city,
he was able to identify these units as paratroop battalions 454
(from Srondol) and 530 (from Madiun). As noted previously,
these two units had been brought into Djakarta for the Armed
Forces Day celebrations, and Suharto himself as part of his
normal duties as KOSTRAD Commander had personally inspected
them the day before. Indeed they were supposed to be taking
part in the demonstration rehearsal which, as mentioned before,
was due to take place at Senajan at 7:00 a.m. Contact was
thereupon made with Senajan, and Suharto demanded to know from
the Brigade Commander in charge what was going on. The Brigade
Commander answered that all the other participants had already
presented themselves at the parade ground, including cavalry,
tank, armor and other units, particularly the crack Siliwangi
paratroop battalion, Kudjang 328. Only Battalions 454 and 530
were missing.
Suharto had now established that, at the outside, the
forces he had still to deal with consisted of about 1500 trained
commandos, plus an undetermined number of Tjakrabirawa, and
what few trained soldiers AURI could muster.
Since at least the paratroop units had previously served
under him during the Irian campaign and since he was also
fortunate enough to have with him at KOSTRAD Headquarters both
Major General Basuki Rachmat, the Commander of the Brawidjaja
Division under which battalion 530 fell, and Brigadier General
Sobirin Mochtar, Commander of the Central Kalimantan Territorial
Division and an old Brawidjaja man, Suharto was now able to
begin the complicated but "traditional" TNI process of under-
mining the unity of these units by opening negotiations with
different levels of command within them. He was able to dis-
cover that whereas the component units of these two battalions
were stationed at different key points around Merdeka Square,
the commanders of the units themselves, Captain Sukirno (454)
and Major Bambang Supeno (530), were inside the Palace itself,
apparently either engaged in discussions with General Supardjo
or waiting for telephone orders from Halim. The company com-
manders and the deputy battalion commanders were approached
by special emissaries of Suharto, in each case higher officers
who had at one time commanded these two battalions or parts of
them. 3 The strategy was to counteract the loyalty these
troops felt to Sukirno, Bambang Supeno and Untung, and persuade
them to come over to the anti-coup side. The details of these
negotiations have not been made fully clear. Apparently the36
main difficulty that Suharto faced at first vas that he still
did not know for sure where Soekarno was or what his role in
the affair could have been, so that it was difficult to persuade
the units round the palace that they were not in fact guarding
the President from the forces of the supposed Council of
Generals* He did have much more success with 530 than with 454*
Battalion 454 was, as we have seen, much more closely linked
to the "Semarang group," and the numbers of its officers "in
the know" seems to have been considerably greater than was the
case with Battalion 530. Sobirin Muchtar was sent with some
other well-known Brawidjaja officers to talk to the Battalion
530 guardposts. Staying out of sight of the
from group to group, cajoling and cursing in
slang* Eventually almost all the men agreed
and on Sobirin Muchtar's in?tructionsdrifted
from their posts, little by little* They
an agreed spot, climbed into t^eir trucks
Palace, they moved
typical Surabaja
to "come over",
imperceptibly away
then assembled at
and drove off to
present themselves to Suharto. ^ As we shall see Suharto was
later successful in using them against the other coup forces,
and against the armed Pemuda Rakjat.
It seems to have been et this crucial juncture that the
Presidential couriers began to reach Djakarta* They evidently
persuaded Leimena to make his pilgrimage out to Halim. Soekarno's
emissaries also contacted Umar and Pranoto. We do not know
what happened in Pranoto's case, but it is clear that the sum-
mons to Umar was politely rejected. It seems likely that Umar
simply referred the couriers to Suharto, saying that he was
now acting under Suharto’s orders. The couriers then moved
on to Suharto’s headquarters and asked him to send Pranoto and
Umar to Halim as the President wished to see them.
This was the crux of the whole coup affair:
a)	It told Suharto where the President was—at the Halim
Air Base, the main centre of AURI strength in Djakarta.
b)	It told Suharto that the President knew about the
missing generals, since he had particularly summoned two of
the few top generals who had not been kidnapped. (It is doubt-
ful if at this point Suharto knew that Sukarno was proposing
to appoint one of them to the leadership of the army).
c)	It told Suharto that the President was not a prisoner
in any strict sense, that he had the liberty to send messengers
into the city, and therefore his relationship to Untung was
ambiguous, to say the least.
d)	The possibility of the President's being deeply in-
volved in the kidnappings was now wide open. Probably by this
time Suharto already knew that at least some of his colleagues
were dead. Indeed Suharto is frank enough to state that "be-
cause of my suspicions I refused to permit these generals to
go to Halim, thinking that ve had already lost quite enough
of our generals." (The implication of course is that Pranoto
was at KOSTRAD by this time, or at least was available, for
Suharto to be in a position to refuse to let him go to Halim*)37
It is clear from the reports of the murders of the Generals,
particularly of the arrests of Harjono and Parman, that they
Immediately suspected that they were being arrested on Palace
orders. Harjono even went so far as to cry out that he was
about to be murdered. We can readily believe that with relations
between the Palace and SUAD being as difficult as they were*
the staff officers must frequently have informally discussed
among themselves whether they might not one day find themselves
arrested by the President. Suharto would certainly not have
been ignorant of these conversations. Being himself convinced
of the Impossibility of there being a Generals' Council, Suharto
was now in the possession of the crucial Information he needed
to take full command of the situation. He was now in a position
to withdraw significant portions of Battalion ASA away from
the coup group (see below), to surround and Isolate Soekarno's
retreat, and destroy the coup forces in Djakarta. This is ex-
actly what he proceeded to do.
To the other side, the courier's errand was of equal moment.
When the Tjakrabirawa emissary returned to Halim with Suharto's
flat refusal to allow Pranoto or Umar to show up at Halim, the
whole psychological atmosphere at the airbase changed. 1) It
was now apparent that the erstwhile "neutral" Suharto, a for-
midable soldier in his own right, had not only declared against
the conspirators but had effectively neutralized all other high
army officers who could be used to cover up the Untung coup.
Moreover the actual power relations in Djakarta were at the
very least in the balance, and probably, to Soekarno's shrewd
eye, already hopeless, since Untung had now lost the element
of surprise which had first favoured the coup attempt. The
Djakarta command was in "enemy hands." Probably other couriers
soon began returning with the news that the Police and Navy
were also effectively with the opposition. Moreover the anti-
coup group now knew the President's whereabouts, so that it
could be expected that moves would soon be made against the
Airbase. On the other hand the fact that Suharto, not Nasution,
was in command, must have relieved everyone at Halim, and per-
haps persuaded them that a) Nasution was dead indeed b) negoti-
ations with the opposite side might have some chance of success.
2) Soekarno now knew that he had immediately to rid himself of
Untung at all costs and disassociate himself from the coup
group as far as possible. The whole gamble had failed.
If the Territorial Commanders were behind Suharto he was likely
to prove a formidable adversary. Obviously Suharto would prob-
ably suspect him of having engineered the whole thing. He
was also now acutely aware that the Army, unless it could some-
how be divided and/or placated, might well use the whole af-
fair to destroy at least the PKI's, and probably his own authority--
as well as the whole political structure which he had worked
since 1958 to develop. Moreover civil war, which he had always
struggled to avoid--at least the horrifying civil war of aliran
against aliran, rather than within the elite--was now staring
him in the face. 3) The Untung people now also realized that38
things had begun to turn radically against them, and that the
chances of getting Soekarno to cooperate fully were by now
remote. It is in the light of this sudden reversal of the
situation as precipitated by the return of the couriers that
we must interpret what follows, namely the extraordinary
broadcasts of 2:00 p.m. and 3:30 p.m.
In their 2:00 p.m. broadcast the Untung group shifted
their ground considerably. ^ For the first time it became
clear that the Revolutionary Council would assume a dominant
role, apparently replacing the old Cabinet and furthermore
(in a sense) replacing the full functions of the President.^
Muddle and ineptness are not only revealed in the constitutional
'conception' but also in the listed membership of the Council
itself, in which the most extraordinary spectrum of unlikely
characters is assembled, ranging from the very radical Pemuda
Rakjat figure Sukatno to the ultra anti-PKI figure Brig. Gen.
Amir Machmud, Commander of the South Kalimantan Territorial
Division.^7 Not only is the composition itself extremely
eccentric, but the order of the names clearly indicate extreme
haste: mnemonic clusters (top armed service leaders, top youth
front leaders, top journalists) are interspersed quite helter-
skelter with cronies of the coup group like Latief, Sujono,
Suherman, etc. Important names which could have been expected
to be on the Council--men like All Sastrohamidjojo, Idham Challd,
Pranoto, Sungkono, etc. are omitted, while figures like Generals
iracudu, Umar and Basukl Rachmat are included who
i/o Qorl nnfi 1 v Hoon ovnonfoH / n Kuptf f ho kaiik ./f.nn/.^8
g of five obscure coup-group officers to its 5-man
and the foolish virtual exclusion of Soekarno when it
in the coup group's interest to make maximum use of
dent's name, indicate a panicked reaction to the turn
• The main aim seems to have been to try to compen-
the President's growing unwillingness to cooperate,
Soli	Chin,
coul	d not
	Abov
t he	namin
Pres	idium
was	still
the	Presi
of e	vent s
sate	for
by e	licit
	The
a.m.	stat
been	held
from "outside" groups within the society.
79
>ment of s
back earl
in the same way.®®
interests to claim
army matter. It wa
a national question
drawn in on their s
was as important as
ent way; it was pro
Soekarno, who earli
add legitimacy to t
the chestnuts out o
protect the coup le
broadcasting at 3:30 p.m. of Dhani's 9:30
upport for the coup group, which had probably
ier at Soekarno's insistence, can be explained
It was now no longer in the conspirators'
that what had happened was simply an internal
s essential to broaden the whole issue into
, in which as many groups as possible were
lde against the Suharto forces. Soekarno
ever to the Untung people, but in a differ-
bably beginning to dawn on some of them that
er that morning had been needed mainly to
he coup d'etat, would now be needed to pull
f the fire and do what could be done to
aders and reach a political settlement.39
This new strength in Soekarno's position vis-a-vis Untung,
which was largely a function of the changed power relations in
Djakarta but even more of his growing comprehension of
what had happened) was reflected in the "rescuing” of Soekarno's
children from within the palace, where they had been "confined”
all day.81 At about 4:00 p.m. they were brought out to Halim
(apparently via Kebajoran), and from there flown to Bandung,
out of harm's way. ^ It is clear that Soekarno felt at this
point that the Palace would not stay much longer in Untung's
hands, and that the children had to be removed before the Army
took over there, in which case either the children might suffer
or they might be used against him.
Meanwhile Suharto had taken advantage of the new information
that he possessed about the President to make a final and ap-
parently largely successful attempt to break up the rebel front
at the palace.8’ Contact was maintained with the company com-
manders of Battalion 454 (possibly parts of Battalion 530 too—
the times are not absolutely certain). In the dialogue that
ensued the emissaries of Suharto urged the company commanders
to go into the palace to check whether the President was really
there, or whether they had been deceived and manipulated into
guarding an empty building the whole day. Apparently this was
a successful manoeuvre, at least when combined with appeals to
army loyalty and (more concretely) with a time limit which
Suharto gave to Battalion 454 to be out of the Palace grounds.
For reasons which are not clear, but probably because a struggle
for authority over the troops was going on between the Company
Commanders and their superior officers, the deadline was passed
without Battalion 454 having taken a final decision. Some
were apparently about to go over to Suharto; others, however,
decided that they were too deeply involved to withdraw at this
point. In any case, by late afternoon, Suharto's subtle and
patient negotiations had borne fruit. By 3:30 at least, Battalion
530 was finally fully in his hands, and by 6:00 p.m. some of
Battalion 454* The rest had begun withdrawing towards Halim.
Since 4:30 a.m. no blood had been shed, except by the well in
Lubang Buaja.
As the withdrawal of these troops proceeded (apparently
unhindered by Suharto, who was only too happy to have the centre
of the city cleared without violence), a new armed force ap-
peared on the scene. Armed Pemudas—mostly Pemuda Rakjat—
emerged at the south end of Merdeka Square, apparently enti rely
ignorant of all the negotiations that had been going on. Near
the site of the National Front building, which they were ap-
parently supposed to guard, they encountered the 530 Battalion,
which had by now changed sides. To their surprise the Battalion,
which they warmly welcomed, abruptly disarmed and arrested
them. ^ They surrendered without a fight, and clearly played
no significant part in the silent struggle for Djakarta that
day. Their role in the whole affair, like that of the PKI,40
seems to have been that of the myopic pedestrian who thinking
he sees a green light, steps off the curb and is flattened by
a garbage-truck he never even sees.
Meanwhile in Djakarta as a whole, the atmosphere seems to
have been almost normal, of course with a good deal of scurry-
ing to and fro. The streets around the palace were sealed
off, but otherwise people went about their regular business,
though rumours about the events of the previous night circulated
fast and furiously. For lack of Suharto's special sources of
information, a general atmosphere of doubt, anxiety, confusion
and tension persisted. Forced to rely exclusively on the radio,
and largely unaware of the silent battle for control of the
armed units around the palace, the public divided largely on
the basis of what it felt could be expected from a group which
had apparently seized power against the SUAD, and which later
on announced as supreme revolutionary authority a group whose
general composition seemed, in spite of glaring eccentricities,
to be 1eft-nationalist in orientation. We have no real indi-
cation what the individual reactions of important officials
was, but clearly the general response in anti-SUAD circles was
excitement and pleasure, mixed with varying degrees of doubt
and surprise. Among those who trusted the SUAD to protect
them from the Revolution, fear and dismay prevailed. Never-
theless, until Soekarno himself took to the air, it was evident
that no one's doubts would be completely set at rest.
The first public reactions to the radio broadcasts were
the afternoon edition of Antara and the evening papers which
appeared on the streets about 4:00 p.m. * It is evident that
these newspapers received from Antara an Untung hand-out or
text of the various proclamations, since they do not vary from
paper to paper. The leftist papers clearly expressed the gen-
eral mood in "outsider" leftist circles--there was factual
reproduction of the Untung broadcasts, and in the cases of the
Baperkl newspaper Warta Bhakti and the PKI-orlented Ekonomi
Nasional and Kebudajaan Baru rather routine cartoons castigat-
ing the Generals' Council, as well as various other problems
and blights on the Indonesian landscape.8” But the mood was
still cautious. Editorial comment was not yet forthcoming.
Clearly no one on the left yet knew what was really happening.
No one had yet seen Aidit. Lukman and Sakirman were in central
Java. Njoto was in Medan. Probably the infectious enthusiasm
of PKI-bandwagoning journalists of the PNI "left" like A. Karim
DP and Satyagraha (typically clamorous "inside-dopesters") who
immediately and far less cautiously than the PKI®' decided that
the coup was a clear blow for "progress," had its effect. For
the leftwing journalists without these "inside" contacts with
the elite, the activities of Karim and his friends and their
open jubilation mus-t have been very convincing.Even the
incorrigibly opportunist and timid PNI went so far as to come
out with a statement which lnspite of some ambiguities clearly
indicated its approval. ’41
In spite of this journalistic activity, however, the
civilian population of Djakarta had almost no idea of what was'
really going on. Nor did the civilian politicians and party
representatives take any important or decisive part in the
entire course of the coup and its collapse. This striking
characteristic was to appear again in the pattern of events in
the major cities of central Java which fell under the control
of the MSemarang" conspirators.
At 6:00 p.m. or shortly thereafter the Untung controlled
radio went off the air for good.^0 Apparently once again there
was no bloodshed. Suharto seems to have given the coup people
in the RRI building a time-ultimatum, insisting that they clear
out before 7:00 p.m. or they would be expelled by force. He
seems to have assured them that they could either surrender
personally to him, or proceed to Halim without let or hindrance.
Coincident with this, General Umar issued orders assuming com-
plete control of all news media, wto prevent confused rumours
and tendentious reporting" on the activities of the coup
group. * By 7:00 p.m. all main installations in and around the
centre of Djakarta had been brought under Suharto's control,
and all hostile troops had been withdrawn from the city. A
few shots were still to be exchanged but they seem to have been
with luckless Pemudas who were still wandering about, without
any idea of what was happening or what they should be doing.
The RPKAD units brought in by Suharto from Tjidjantung made
short work of them, and perhaps of a few stray Tjakrabirawa
figures who may have felt too deeply implicated to surrender,
or some who never got the chance to do so through a breakdown
in communications among the various rebel units.
Soekarno Abandons Halim
"As the Prince went out, to continue on his
way, those that stayed behind looked after
him, longingly.•."
- Nagarakrtagama, 33, III, 2.
The remains of the Untung group were now concentrated at
the Halim airbase, very conscious of the fact that Suharto was
closing in on them. When RRI finally went off the air, it must
have been quite clear that the rebel cause was lost, at least
in Djakarta. Several very important decisions now had to be
taken. Untung himself could expect no mercy at the Army's
hands, and, therefore, must either have been in despair or hoping
that somehow Soekarno could still save the situation. It must
have already been mooted that the whole group leave for Central
Java, where Untung would know that Semarang, at least, and very
possibly several other areas were under rebel control. One
must assume that he pressed this alternative very strongly on42
the President. Oiponegoro was in their hands, a stand could
be made in Central Java. Suharto would surely never risk
civil war there, and perhaps some kind of deal or arrangement
could be made. If Leimena was still at Halim we can assume
that he would have been likely to argue as strongly as he was
able in the other direction. One can imagine possibly that he
would have urged Soekarno to do his best to prevent further
violence and bloodshed, and to start negotiations with Suharto.
He may have warned the President that flight to Central Java
would confirm the Army's worst suspicions, that possibly the
US might intervene, and that any such move would force Suharto
to bring the Army out in open conflict against him. Supposing
Aidit himself still to be available, we may suppose, from his
subsequent actions, and the whole line of the PKI which we have
sketched above, that he would have urged immediate Soekarno
intervention to prevent the beginning of violent repression
against the PKI. He would undoubtedly foresee the destruction
of the party unless it could be immediately made absolutely
clear that the PKI was not planning any kind of seizure of
power, that it abided fully by the President's decisions, that
it was not encouraging anti-army activities, that it continued
to trust to peaceful methods, and that it would do its best to
restrain its lower level people from taking any kind of provo-
cative or violent steps. One can assume that the Air Force
top brass, at least Dhani (and perhaps Wattimena if he was
there), came round to this general course of action, feeling
again, in typically "Djakarta" fashion that it might still be
possible to talk one's way to a not too disastrous solution,
and that some arrangement might still be worked out with the
army. One may assume that none of the parties concerned knew
the precise details of the Generals' deaths.
The picture that develops of what occurred at Halim from
about 4:00 p.m. onward is one in which the Djakarta elite
began to take the leadership once again and the "outsider"
coup elements moved into the background. Leimena, Dhani, Aidit,
probably Sabur, and certainly Soekarno himself began to regain
their normal ascendancy, while the Untungs, Heru's and Sujono's
were increasingly left out of the key decisions, whose scope
now went far beyond what they were capable of effectively
handling. However, it still seemed impossible to make a de-
cision until there was definite news a) from Suharto and b) from
Central Java. Accordingly another courier was sent to Suharto,
one of the President's personal adjutants. He seems to have
reached Suharto at about 8:00 p.m., at any rate well before
Suharto's first address over the radio at 9:00 p.m.
Suharto himself lat.er gave a brief description of what
passed between himself and the adjutant. He said the adjutant
asked him how the situation was (read: What are you going to
do next? What do you know?) and what should he, the adjutant,
do now (read: what steps can we take that would facilitate a
deal?). Suharto related that he told the adjutant in no un-
certain terms that it was essential to move Soekarno from HalimA3
(read: a message was sent back that if Soekarno was not out of
Halim by a certain hour Suharto would come in and get him.
Moreover that so long as Soekarno was in "rebel" hands no
discussions of any kind were possible.) Probably, too, in
the light of what subsequently occurred Suharto may have
warned Soekarno not to leave for Central Java, but to go to
neutral terri tory—hi s palace at Bogor. The emissary returned
to the base shortly thereafter.
At roughly the same time, we must assume that messages
began coming into Halim from Central Java that the Radio Stations
in Jogjakarta, and Semarang were now in rebel hands, and that
therefore the situation in Central Java was very critical.^2
Djakarta was lost, but Central Java was now theirs. Central
Java appeared to be in the hands of Col. Suherman, who since
his seizure of power in Semarang had assumed control of the
division, or as much of it as was prepared to accept his leader-
ship. ^3 Soekarno was now faced with the critical decision of
where to go. Should he defy Suharto's orders and go to Central
Java, clearly the President would be bound finally to throw
in his lot with the Untung group. There he could denounce
Suharto as an agent of the CIA, but he would thereby challenge
not only Suharto and Umar but also large portions of the police,
the navy and most of the West Javanese Army. All chance of
effective contact with the Outer Islands would vanish, and
Soekarno's own position would be destroyed, unless in the sub-
sequent civil war he could be sure of victory. Moreover, once
but of Djakarta he would be completely in the hands of the
Suherman group, away from all his trusted confidants and the
Djakarta political milieu he understood and could dominate.
He would be in the middle of a world of violence whose conse-
quences he could not predict and over which he would have little
or no control. The military odds against ultimate success would
also be very slim indeed, expecially as foreign intervention
was quite likely in such a situation. On the other hand, should
he decide to go to Bogor he would be beginning the necessary
process of disassociating himself with the coup forces, he
would be able to act as a fully free agent, and start using
his diplomacy, personal authority, skill at negotiation and
intrigue to find a political rather than a military settlement
to the situation. The Suharto ultimatum must have also given
him further food for uneasy thought. The President has never
been particularly noted for his physical as opposed to moral
courage. He can not have been sure that Suharto might not
just come in and "unluckily" destroy the President in the
process of destroying the rebels. Suharto certainly had the
physical power to do so. Nor could Soekarno be certain that
if he left by air for Central Java the plane would not be shot
down.
Now if he was to take the decision not to go to Central
Java, but to retire for the moment to Bogor, and thus play the44
cards of diplomacy and political manoeuvring rather than the
cards of military violence* it would be absolutely essential
that the Central Java situation be brought under control* that
especially the Air Force and the PKI be prevented from taking
any precipitate action which would start the civil war which
Soekarno had so long attempted to prevent, and which his ap-
proaching decision to leave for Bogor was also intended to
help avoid. So far as anyone knew* the Central Java situation
was as Untung and Suherman had planned it, a silent bloodless
coup within the army, without as yet any further political
consequences. But no one could tell what the ultimate conse-
quences of the initial Djakarta broadcasts and the subsequent
ones from Radio Semarang, Radio Jogjakarta and Radio Solo might
be •
Accordingly the decision was taken to accept Suharto's
ultimatum. Soekarno would leave at once for Bogor, while
Aldit and Dhani would fly to Central Java to hold the Air
Force and PKI in line there. Leimena would probably be sent
to Suharto or at least into the city to begin contacts with
political groups there. It is not certain what was told to
Suharto. One doubts that Soekarno thought it wise to tell him
that Aidit was at Halim* since this would only stimulate
suspicions of "PKI masterminding," and further complicate the
situation before it had a chance to be partly remedied.
The question then remained what was to be done with Untung.
Soekarno's position was now very strong, if only vis-a-vis the
wretched Lieutenant-Colonel. One can imagine him saying some-
thing like the following:	"Look, we have lost control of
Djakarta, and Suharto is going to attack the base very shortly.
I am not going to Central Java on any account. It would start
a civil war which I do not want. You can kill me if you wish,
with every chance
violence against
to begin at this
get the cooperation
to a plane, should
violence against
chance of saving
clearly bungled things
ability to’ handle
the situation must by now have been very low. Probably to
persuade him not to make difficulties the President promised
to do all that he could to protect him and his group and to
arrange a political settlement* but only on condition that the
President be permitted to leave, and that Untung himself not
attempt to precipitate any more violence. It is very likely
that here Brig. Gen. Sabur was of considerable importance,
effectively shifting the loyalty of the Tjakrabirawa units
from Untung back to himself and Soekarno. This may have been
the djasa (merit) for which the Army later rewarded him.
but	I will no	t go."		it	would	be	a bluf	f bu
of	success.	Untung		had	never	int	ended	any ■
t he	President	, and	P	resumably		did	not w	ish
poi	nt. He co	uld no	t	be	sure t	hat	he wo	uld
of	his men to	kidnap		Soekarno		and	push	hi m
the	President	choos	e	to	resist	•	Moreover, ■	
the	President	would		have	eliml	nat	ed his	las
anything from		the s	i	tuat	ion.	He	had so	cle.
In	Djakarta t	hat hi	3	own	conf i	den	ce in	his i45
In hi 8 subsequent public statements, Soekarno has repeatedly
emphasized his "freedom of action** throughout the day at Halim,
and that he had gone there of his own free will to avoid the
threat of "undesirable events" in Djakarta.9^ Not only is this
in part a real reflection of events, and of his own deep suspic-
ion of the General Staff, it also underlines his persistent
attempt to prevent the Army from using him and his supposed
"arrest" by first the coup group and (a bit later) "vicious PKI
elements" to destroy the Communist party. The President has
been concerned at all costs not to allow the Army to make it
look as if the already "Implicated" PKI had taken action against
the President rather than against the SUAD. While he has been
desperately anxious to regain control of the Army he has been
equally anxious (and this is perhaps the deepest part of his
dilemma) not to allow himself to be made use of by the Army
more than could be helped. These two objectives have been
contradictory from the beginning. One aim requires that he
accomodate the army and try to regain its confidence. The
other requires that he distance himself as far as possible from
it, and retain maximum freedom of manoeuvre. The combination
of these two has evidently proved beyond the powers of even
this extraordinarily flexible individual.
General Sabur later stated that Soekarno finally left
Halim of his own free will about 10*30 p.m., October 1, reach-
ing Bogor shortly after midnight.95 We have it from Suharto,
however, that actually the President reached Bogor by 10:00 p.m.,
which would mean that he would have had to leave Halim (by
helicopter) about 9:00 p.m. or (by car) at about 8:30 p.m.
Suharto made the further point that he telephoned a trusted
aide in Bogor, a certain Col. Alex, to go to the palace and
check personally to see if Soekarno had really arrived.9^ Sub-
sequently Col. Sarwo Edhie, chief of the RPKAD, was sent to
Bogor to make quite certain that Soekarno was not only there
but that he would be in no position to move off again anywhere
else. Col. Sarwo Edhie arrived there about 10:30 p.m.^7 It
seems fairly clear that the times given in Soekarno's statement
were designed to disassociate his leaving Halim from Suharto's
radio speech of 9:00 p.m., and thus to repudiate the idea that
he was in any sense forced by Suharto to go to Bogor.
Once certain that Soekarno was at least out of Halim—one
can assume that Suharto was at once informed of this by Sabur
or someone else at the air base—the self-appointed Army Com-
mander was able to go onto the air and make the crucial announce-
ment that Soekarno was "safe and well" (read: in Army hands),
that Nasution was alive and with the Army, and that Suharto
himself had assumed leadership of the Army.98 An Army infor-
mation centre announcement added that Suharto had the full co-
operation of the Navy and Police in restoring securit y."
Significantly, no mention was made of AURI, nor, supposing that
Suharto knew about it, of the Pranoto appointment. This sequence
explains why, although Suharto regained control of the RRI46
about 7:00* he himself did not go on to the air
p.m., when he was assured that Soekarno was out
safely in his, not Untung's hands.
until 9:00
of Halim and
The struggle for Djakarta was now essentially over, and
the centre of the problem now shifted to Central Java. Here
there were four main loci of activity—Semarang, Salatiga,
Jogjakarta and Solo.
Central Java
*J,The whole of Java was filled with the
greatest fear and terror..."
- Nagarakrtagama, 40, VI, 1.
Semarang
As the headquarters of the Untung-Suherman group was in
any case the Divisional Headquarters Command in Semarang it
was hardly surprising that this was the first place at which
the coup group struck. Apparently the initial Untung broad-
cast was the signal for action to take place, and very shortly
thereafter Col. Suherman, Chief of Army Intelligence for Central
Jave, acting in close collaboration with Col. Marjono, chief
of personnel and Lieut*Col. Usman Sastrod 1 broto, bureau chief
for civi1-mi 1itary political relations, seized control of
Divisional Headquarters and placed the Commander of the Divi-
sion, General Surjosumpeno, under arrest. Suherman then took
over command of the division, at least in name. This occurred
in the midmorning of October 1, about the time that Suharto
was beginning to assemble his forces in KOSTRAD Headquarters.
Almost immediately, however, Suherman made his gravest mistake.
Surjosumpeno was able to trick impressionable younger officers
into leaving him alone long enough to allow him to make his
escape from Divisional Headquarters.From there he fled
southwards out of Semarang, finding the city otherwise fully
in rebel hands. He made his way directly to Magelang, where
the Military Academy is located, and where army manoeuvres are
usually held. It is one of the few cities in Central Java
where the military completely dominate the relatively small
civilian population, since community life revolves largely
around the army installations there. In Magelang he was able
to make successful contact with local army officers, and joined
forces with the Second Cavalry (Tank) Battalion stationed there
under Lieut. Col. Jasin Hussain. The question then became
whether an attempt should be made to retake Divisional Head?_
quarters in Semarang or find some safer base of operations.
At this point it appears that an emissary arrived from Jogja-
karta, in the person of Lieut. Col. Sugijono Mangunwijoto,
chief of staff of the 72nd Military Resort, the regimental
10.147
command covering Solo, Jogjakarta, and Kedu (Magelang), to say
that Jogjakarta was still secure and in the hands of Col.
Katamso Darmokusumo, the Commander of the 72nd Military Resort.
He urged the General to move down to Jogjakarta and make it
the base of his operations. But after some further discussion
Surjosumpeno decided to try to retake Semarang. Meanwhile
orders were given to Sugijono to return to Jogjakarta.*^
Salatiga
In Salatiga that same morning, the Commander of the 73rd
Military Resort (Pati and Surakarta), Col. Sukardi, and the
Commander of the Salatiga Military District, Lieut. Col. Sugi-
man* were arrested at the orders of Lieut. Col. Idris, Sukardi's
Chief of Staff. The main force at the coup group's disposal
was Battalion 448 stationed just outside the town on the road
to Kopeng. There were also Civil Defence units active in
auxiliary capacity. No blood was shed at all, though evidently
a few kidnappings of officers thought unfriendly to the new
commander of the 73rd Military Resort took place. The whole
coup was a purely military affair without civilian or party
participation.103
Jogjakarta
Meantime in Jogjakarta*^ the situation was deteriorating.
Apparently no real plans had been made for the seizure of power
in the city, but subsequent to the radio announcements from
Djakarta a certain Major Muljono, a well-known "trouble-maker"
who had experienced delays in promotion (his younger brother
was already a whole rank higher than himself) and seems to have
had perennial difficulties with his superior officers, went to
see Col. Katamso, to urge him to accept the Untung proclamation
and bring out the Jogjakarta command behind it. Muljono him-
self had previously been chief of staff to the military com-
mander in the Bojolali district, and was currently 5th
assistant (for relations with civilian organizations), to the
72nd Military Resort Commander. He was also in charge of Civil
Defence for Jogjakarta, which Involved him in the training of
civilian volunteers, probably a large proportion of whom Were
PKI or left-PNI youths. He was also chief of the Jogjakarta
City Veterans' Legion, an organization which typically contained
many deeply discontented ex-revolutionaries frustrated by
their "post-military" way of life, especially in a situation
where to the rest of the community the military increasingly
formed a highly visible privileged group.*®*
Muljono tried to force Katamso to come out for the
Proclamation, but evidently Katamso was too cautious or too
hesitant to do so, and stalled on any decision until he had re-
ceived word from the Divisional Commander, Brig. Gen.
Surjosumpeno• It is not clear whether Muljono was really in-
volved in the Suherman group as such or was acting on his own.48
The	best	guess	is that
Djak	arta	, in t	he grip
be a	"snowball		ing*» tid
Java	• In any		case he
sent	to	Surjos	umpeno.
Li eu	t• Co1• Su		gijono,
case	it	seems	to have
be t	aken	till	the emis
happ	ened	to th	e emissa
hi ms	elf.	(The	argumen
any case he seems to have agreed that an emissary be
It may have been that this emissary was
ut more probably it was not. In any
ieen agreed that no further action would
ary returned from Semarang.106 What
■y is not clear, unless it was Sugijono
(The argument against it being Sugijono is that if
he had been sent by Katamso-Muljono he would surely not have
told Surjosumpeno that Jogjakarta was "safe", even compared
with Semarang.) In any case, whether he went as Katamso's
emissary or on his own, on Sugijono*s return he reported to
Katamso what had transpired in Semarang. Meanwhile Muljono,
presumably Impatient of delay or perhaps learning from Semarang
that Suherman had seized control there, made his move. He
sent a sergeant with a squad of men loyal to him to arrest both
Katamso and Sugijono, who was then still at Katamso's house.
This occurred about 6:00 p.m. The two men were taken to
Kentongan* a spot about three miles north of Jogjakarta, and
held there at the barracks of Battalion 451 (Sixth Infantry
Brigade) while Muljono continued with his plan to seize power
in Jogjakarta. Apparently the first step taken was to surround
the palace complex of the Pakualaman, since with the Sultan of
Jogjakarta out of town, the Kepala Oaerah, chief civilian ex-
ecutive official, was H.R.H. the Pakualam. No one was permitted
to enter or leave. Shortly thereafter a group of CGMI, IPPI
difficulty.
t	(various Cotmnun		i st	univers 1ty	, hi	ghschool, and
rganizations)		and	ve	ry possibly	the	ir left-PNI
ve	re instructe	d o	r P	ersuaded by	Mul	jono to seize
a	Radio Statio	n#	This they did		wi t	hout any
Th	ere is some	rea	son	to believe	t ha	t some of the
li	ce were also	wo	n o	ver, though	it i	s not clear
xt	,Io? In any	ca	se	by 8:00 p.m	. RRI Jogjakarta	
St	ing support	for	Un	tung's coup	in	Djakarta,
el	f now in the	la	s t	stages of colla		pse, with
ar	ing to abandon		Hal	im.		
Surakarta
Meanwhile in Central Java's other key city, Surakarta, the
Untung broadcast had been relayed at 7:00 a.m. and provided,
as in Jogjakarta, the signal for a shift in the structure of
military power.l0® Sometime in the course of the afternoon the
newly appointed commander of the Solo military district Lieut.
Col. Ezy Suharto, together with his chief of staff, Captain
Parman, and the Commander of the Sixth Infantry Brigade, Lieut.
Col. Ashari, were put under arrest by a certain Major Iskandar,
presumably after they had delayed or shilly-shallied in giving
Immediate support to the Revolutionary Council.	At 6:00 p.m.,
some two hours before Jogjakarta, RRI Solo (which was in leftist49
hands anyway) put out a crucial statement of support.* ® This
Initial statement was issued by the Communist mayor of Solo,
Utomo Ramelan, in his capacity as head of the local National
Front, and was countersigned by the secretary-general, S.K.
Wirjono, a prominent figure in the local Communist artists*
organization, LEKRA. At the same time, apparently on the
initiative of Iskandar, the formation of a Revolutionary
Council for the Solo area was announced, on the model of the
Central Revolutionary Council and in accordance with the in-
structions issued in Untung*s second Proclamation that such
regional councils be formed.Iskandar appointed himself
Chairman, and proceeded to call together the representatives
of the political parties in Solo for a consultation in the
National Front building. But the conference met with little
success. Evidently the only parties giving unequivocal support
were the PKI, Baperki and Partindo, the others either refusing
to cooperate or saying that they would have to wait for in-
structions from their party headquarters in Djakarta. (This
would be a particularly typical PNI reaction to the situation.)
Thus the situation in Central Java at the point when the
coup collapsed in Djakarta was as follows. An essentially
military coup d*etat had been carried out in Semarang against
the Divisional Commander, who had however managed subsequently
to elude his captors. There was evidently no civilian partici-
pation and the city was completely in military hands. In
Salatiga, a similar purely military soup had taken place. In
Jogjakarta, the military weakness of the "coup** sympathizers
had meant the involvement of civilian personnel--not the PKI
itself, nor its larger mass organizations such as the BTI,
SOBSI, or Gerwani, but specifically radical student elements
who had personal contacts with the unruly Muljono. The two top
local military officers had been arrested, and Muljono and his
civilian allies held rather precarious control of the city.
In Solo, civilians had taken a more prominent part, with the
Communist mayor making the first Central Javanese Communist
statement of support for the Untung coup (Jogjakarta and
Semarang incidentally had rather right-wing PNI mayors, namely
Sudarisman Purwokusumo, S. H. and Woerjanto, S.H. This may
be part of the explanation for the idiosyncratic character of
events in Solo; yet on the other hand, the mayor of Salatiga,
Bakri Uahab, was also a Communist.) Nevertheless once again
the initiative was taken by army personnel (Iskandar) though
he felt it necessary, unlike his counterparts elsewhere, to
invite civilian cooperation and support straight away. Only
in Magelang, astride the Jog 1akarta-Semarang road, did the coup
group still have no power.There the Divisional Commander
and units loyal to him began concentrating for a counterstroke.
Thus with the Important exception of Magelang, by 8:00 p.m.
the key cities of Central Java were in rebel hands, however
insecurely, and all had announced for Untung's Revolutionary
Council. One can be sure that army and air force radio re-
ceivers in Djakarta had picked up all these broadcasts and both
sides would be well aware of the critical situation in the
heartland of Java.so
Once Suharto was assured of control of Djakarta* there-
fore* he Immediately turned his attention to Central Java* and
began what was to prove a long series of appeals and countermand-
ings of orders over the military telex system and over the
radio* At 10*00 p*m** (October 1) Suharto categorically de-
nounced the September 30th Movement as counter-revolutionary*
and declared that the Generals listed on the Revolutionary
Council had been included without their knowledge.*** In a
radiogram to Central Java he explicitly disavowed Suherman's
orders to all commanders within the Diponegoro command.1** As
an old Diponegoro commander he was undoubtedly hoping to rally
loyalties to himself.
At the same time that in Central Java the rebel authorities
were busy attempting to consolidate their control* generally
speaking by bluff and persuasion* trying to secure maximum
cooperation from timid or neutral figures* at Halim preparations
were being made for the final evacuation of the airbase. Though
it had apparently been decided to take off for Central Java*
it was by no means yet certain what kind of reception would
await them at each Individual airport* nor whether the army
would try to shoot down any airplanes that took off* nor what
success could be expected to attend Suharto's attempts to under-
mine internal unity and solidarity among ‘the coup elements in
Central Java.
It is possible that the remaining figures at Halim* Dhani*
Aidit and Untung were divided on what precise steps should be
taken to overcome the crisis. Untung may have been encouraged
by the reports from Central Java to try and persuade the others
to support him. Or there may have been disputes over which
people would be permitted to fly out* and if so where to. The
members of Battalion 454 now guarding the base were undoubtedly
concerned about their own safety and unwilling to see their
leaders disappear leaving them to "hold the bag." Probably
radio contacts with the main airbases in Central and East Java
were being made to find out where it would be best and safest
to land. Since the original coup plans probably had not pro-
vided for this particular contingency, all this may well have
taken some time. It may also have been delayed by reconnoitring
activities carried out by RPKAD troops under Suharto's direction
who were able to damage some of
harrass the groundcrews* though
was not ready to open a frontal
remarked later* though he could
concerned that in that case AURI might retaliate by putting
bombers into the air which would then cause heavy damage in
Djakarta.
the planes at the base, and
as yet the new Army Commander
attack on the base. As he
have sent his tanks in* he was
In any case* about midnight a diversion was created by the
appearance in the sky over Djakarta of the President's Jetstar
plane* which had been intended to pick up Subandrio and his51
party from Sumatra, but which in fact only contained the Deputy
Commander of the Air Force, Air Vice-Marshal Sri Muljono Her-
lambang.1^ In any case, though the airplane was shot at, it
managed to land. Shortly afterwards (perhaps because Sri
Muljono exerted effective pressure on Dhani) at least two
Hercules transport planes took off for Central Java, one con-
taining Aidit and Omar Dhani, the other probably at least
Untung himself, and very likely as many of his cohorts as could
be accomodated.^' These planes, too, managed to elude the
anti-aircraft guns and sped off towards Central Java about
midnight. It is probable that the Untung plane landed at
Semarang about 1:30 a.m., but there is as yet no clear evidence
of this. The Aidit-Dhani plane landed at Adisutjipto airfield
(Maguwo) a couple of miles outside Jogjakarta, at about 2:00 a.m.
on October 2nd.	It is possible that the Battalion 454 para-
troops at Halim were deceived into staying on guard by being
told that Untung was going to Central Java to get reinforce-
ments.
The pattern of events in Central Java after the arrival
of Aidit and Omar Dhani is reasonably clear in its general
outlines even if some of the details have not yet been cleared
up. It appears that on his arrival at Adisuptjipto airfield,
Aidit was driven by a certain Air Force Major Sudarjo to the
house of Sutrlsno, one of the more Important, older local PKI
leaders and a member of the Jogjakarta Governmental Executive
Body (BPH).**^ Aidit seems to have warned him to call off any
demonstrations, and at all costs not allow the PKI to be pro-
voked into violent action. The PKI should play the Bung Karno
card for all it was worth, indicate complete, unconditional
support for any policies that the President might declare and
at all costs give no further offence to the Army. The military
people should be allowed to do the negotiating and discussing
among themselves, with the PKI confining itself to discreet
support of "moderate" elements. The local PKI branches should
not go underground or do anything else that might excite suspic-
ion that this was basically a PKI and not an army affair.
After having apparently "defused" the Jogjakarta situation,
Aidit left for Semarang early on the morning of October 2nd,
in a black Fiat 1300 accompanied by two Pemuda Rakjat escorts. ^0
His objective was to contact both Lukman and Ir. Sakirman, who
were in that city, as well as the Acting Governor of Central
Java, Sujono Atmo, an attractive, young, strongly pro-PKI
politician. 2 * It was obviously essential to talk PKI strategy
and tactics over with the two top PKI leaders. As for Sujono
Atmo, his position as legal civilian head of the troubled
province would allow him to do a lot to keep the overall sit-
uation calm, facilitate communications with bewildered PKI
cadres, especially within the Central Java bureaucracy, and
generally keep the situation from getting out of hand.52
Meanwhile Lukman and Sakirman were sitting quietly in
Semarang.122 They had left Djakarta on September 28th in
Lukman's official car to do a tour of Central Java. Driving
through Bandung on their way East* they reached Semarang at
midnight of the 28th-29th, and lodged in the house of friends
at Djl. Dempo 14. The next two days were spent in Semarang or
in the environs* probably in talks with local party leaders.
On October 1* the whole group listened to the first Untung
radio announcement as they ate breakfast* and all were pleased
and excited. They apparently remained discussing the latest
news till that afternoon when a visitor arrived in a Holden
sedan to take them to spend the night at another house* this
time on Taman Hajam Wuruk.*2^
It was at 8:00 a.m. of October 2nd that they were aroused
by the arrival of Aidit. Intense discussions then began*
which were shortly thereafter joined by Sujono Atmo* who drove
up in. his official car. After about an hour* all four set
off in the direction of Solo in Sujono Atmo's limousine*
escorted by a Jeep driven by Lukman's chauffeur.*^4 in Bojolali
they stopped for an hour to brief the local Bupati* Suali* a
prominent PKI leader. Once in Surakarta* they went straight
to the house of the Communist mayor* Utomo Ramelan.12^ That
evening about 9:00 p.m. Ramelan drove out to see the Commander
of the Panasan airbase* Lieut. Col. Sujoto* and invited him to
come to the Mayor's office to discuss the situation. The
Commander agreed and rode into town in the Mayor's car. Evid-
ently considerable discussion ensued* in the course of which
Aidit requested the use of a plane to fly to Bali.*2® This
apparently was refused or was not available. Aidit then gave
Sujoto a letter for delivery to the President* which Sujoto
seems to have promised to have flown to Djakarta* since he took
the letter with him back to Panasan.127
The next morning Sujoto reappeared at the Mayor's and re-
turned the letter which he had promised to deliver the night
before. Further extensive discussion took place* Sujoto
claiming that no plane was available to take the letter to the
capital. Later that morning* Sujono Atmo returned to Semarang
to resume his functions as Acting Governor and to make the
necessary proclamations (for which see below).*2®
The movements of the PKI leaders for the next day and a
half are not clear* but it appears that they travelled to Madiun
and Kediri at least* possibly to other PKI centres of strength.
As in Solo* their mission was. evidently a success. In none of
these "red" areas was there any movement or activity* though
Party buildings were guarded by squads of Pemuda Rakjat in
many places. A watchful and tense stillness reigned everywhere53
On October 4th Djakarta Radio broadcast the news that there
would be a plenary session of the Cabinet at the President's
palace in Bogor, on October 6th. which all Ministers were
urgently requested to attend.This seems to have galvanized
the PKI leaders. Early on the morning of October 5* about
2:30 a.m., Lukman set off with his chauffeur for Semarang in
Ramelan's car. There he picked up his own Ministerial vehicle
and headed straight back for Djakarta, stopping only in Pemalang
near Brebes to talk to the local PKI cadres. He reached
Djakarta about 3:30 p.m. that same day. The next morning Lukman
proceeded to Bogor. where he made his last public appearance•*-*0
Meanwhile Aidit and Ramelan (and probably Sakirman) remained
in Solo to finish making arrangements for maintaining order
and discipline in Communist ranks in the face of what was prob-
ably going to be a bad few months ahead. 131 it may be that
Sakirman was instructed to stay in Central Java, his home area,
since he does not reappear on the scene. About 3:15 p.m. of
October 5th. Aidit and Ramelan made a last forlorn appearance
at Panasan. and asked for a plane to take Aidit back to Djakarta,
so that he could attend the Cabinet meeting scheduled for the
next morning. But once again Sujoto found reasons for being
uncooperative, either because he was frightened or because he
was moving towards the anti-PKI groups. *-*2 in any case Aidit
and Ramelan left the base soon afterwards, and Aidit at least
was never seen in public again. What happened to him, one can
not tell. It is certain that he was unabie to make his way back
to Djakarta, and since it appears that Solo fell back into
"loyalist" Army hands that day (see below) it is most likely
that he was arrested, and held incommunicado.^^
In the meantime Omar Dhanl had first convinced the pro-coup
people at Adisutjipto airbase to remain calm and vigilant, and
on no account to start anything. He then proceeded by plane
to Maospati, and from there drove in to Madiun. At 10:00 a.m.
October 2, he summoned Commodore Dono Indarto, the Commander
of Air Region VII (Central Java), to Madiun for talks. Dis-
cussion then ensued which ensured that the AURI in Central
Java would cooperate with the President's orders and avoid any
kind of anti-Army action or provocation.1^4 what Omar Dhani
did subsequently, is not clear. Possibly he went to Semarang
or to East Java. In any case, he did not appear again in
public until about 4:00 p.m. that same afternoon, when he
landed back at the Semplak airfield near Bogor. From there he
made his way to the palace with Leo Wattimena, to attend a
special KOTI (Supreme Operations Command) session and to face
a distraught Soekarno and an infuriated Army (see below).13554
The Collapse of the Coup
"They wailed, amazed, seeing the disappear*
.ance of Sanctity:	the cult-statue was
naked."
- Nagarakrtagama 57, III, 4.
In Djakarta Suharto spent the night of October lst-2nd
issuing a series of pronouncements, discharging rebel officers,
denouncing the coup as a counter-revolutionary putsch, and
taking the necessary measures to clean up "wild" Pemuda ele-
ments who had been given AURI weapons. At the same time the
RPKAD forces were being mobilized for an attack on Halim,
timed to start just before dawn* Once again the "ultimatum
technique" was successfully used. The surrender of most of
the "coup" troops was engineered and the base fell to Suharto
without any blood being spilt.136 By 6:00 a.m. all rebel
resistance in Djakarta had ended, except for a few bewildered
Pemuda groups. All the main coup actors had fled the scene,
those who did not get out on the Hercules transports the night
before apparently driving off in the direction of Bekasl, where
they were soon picked up by "loyal" Army units.
Soekarno was still not permitted by the Army to make any
personal broadcasts, although Suharto repeatedly announced his
own and the Army's loyalty to the President, and declared that
all actions being taken were at the President's behest. On
the morning of October 2nd, Soekarno did however send messengers
to Suharto and the men around him, as well as to Leo Wattimena
and other high-ranking officers, summoning them to a conference
in Bogor.138 Suharto later recalled that he sent word that he
was too busy to come that morning, and it was only after 1:00
p.m. that he made his way out of Djakarta, probably reaching
Bogor about 3:00 p.m. There he found a group consisting of
the President, Eddy Martadlnata, the Navy Commander; Sutjipto
Judodihard jo, the Police Chief; Dr. Leimena; Sri Muljono
Herlambang; Brig. Gen. A. Jusuf, the Trade Minister; Attorney
General Brig. Gen. R. Sutardhlo; and Brig. Gen. M. Sabur. A
little later Dhani himself arrived, accompanied by Wattimena.
The meeting opened In an atmosphere of great tension. Soekarno,
apparently reckoning that Suharto might be outwitted, if
Nasution was not present, immediately propounded his view that
the whole affair was essentially political not military, and
that therefore he would handle it himself. He repeated his
order of October 1st assuming personal charge of the Army and
appointing Pranoto as its "dally caretaker." Suharto's answer
was a gem of Javanese sarcasm* He said he was quite agreeable
and that he would go on the radio at once to withdraw all55
statements and measures that he had taken since the previous
morning* The President hurriedly withdrew his proposal, and
eventually with Suharto*s agreement produced an amended version
of the order, in which sole responsibi11 tv for restoring
security and order were given to Suharto.Since clearly
this involved full control of all army units and Installations,
it left the wretched Pranoto, in charge of "daily administration,"
with nothing but a title* Soekarno's face had been partially
saved, but it was clear that for the time being the Army and
Suharto were more than equal for Soekarno and were not pre-
pared to permit him to take the political initiative away from
them* For his own reasons Suharto declared his readiness to
try to forestall any conflict between the Air Force and the
Army, though when Soekarno later went on to the radio to State
that AURI had had absolutely no part in the events of October
1st, Suharto immediately made his own broadcast stating that
though this might be true, it was undeniable that AURI ele-
ments had inoeed been heavily involved--vlrtually calling the
President a liar.*^* Certainly Army feeling against the Air
Force was running so high that some such rebuttal was inevit-
able and one can not help feeling that Soekarno made a serious
tactical error in such an obvious falsification. Suharto and
Soekarno also agreed on the necessity of calling in as soon
as possible all the weapons which had so far been distributed
by AURI officers.
With this consolidation of Suharto's formal position and
the thin papering over of the chasm between the Army high com-
mand and Soekarno, the pattern of events for the subsequent
weeks became evident. Soekarno was reluctantly forced to accept
a whole series of faits accomplis, or appear to be a President
totally without power.
The bodies of the dead generals were finally discovered
on the evening of October 3rd, and exhumed under Suharto's
personal supervision on the morning of the 4th.It seems
only then to have become fully apparent to the Army high com-
mand what had actually happened, and the reports of Gerwani and
PR participation in the murder of the generals began to seep
out. Suharto himself certainly already knew the full story by
Sunday evening since the Army newspaper Ber11a Yuddha of Monday
October 4th, fired the first shots in what was to become a
massive campaign to hound the PKI to destruction.*^ The
newspaper attacks were immediately followed on the midmorning
of October 4th by the first violent party demonstrations,
demanding the dissolution of the PKI and the punishment of its
incriminated membership. In the days that followed it became
increasingly clear that whatever its real knowledge about the
coup*^ the Army was determined to suppress as far as possible
all news stories indicating the extent of Army and Air Force56
involvement. The patent design of the Army was to place all
blame on the PKI.lZ>° In this endeavour they had—and still
have—the full support of the religious parties, and. in
certain areas and to a lesser extent, of the PNI. But the
subsequent developments of the Army's anti-PKI politique fall
outside the scope of our present analysis.
The collapse of the coup movements in Central Java followed
shortly thereafter. Semarang was the first to fall. On the
afternoon of October 1st. Surjosumpeno proceeded with his
tanks as far as Bawen, the junction of the Solo-Seraarang and
Jogjakarta-Semarang highways. Leaving his tanks behind, he
drove the eight miles into Salatiga in a jeep, accompanied only
by his chauffeur. He went straight to the Headquarters of
the 73rd Military Resort where Col. Sukardi was being held
prisoner. The subordinates of Lieut. Col. Idris attempted to
arrest him too, but he managed to trick them into believing he
was involved in the coup, and so was allowed to go free. Re-
joining his men at Bawen, he advanced to Gompel, on the out-
skirts of Semarang. In Semarang itself the coup group was un-
able to prevent its troops from listening to Radio Djakarta,
and thus hearing of the failure of Untung's coup de force.
The authority of Suherman dwindled rapidly, and after "Suharto-
style" negotiations most of the "rebel" troops were won over.
On the morning of October 2nd, Surjosumpeno reoccupied Semarang
without a shot being fired, the action being initiated about
5:00 a.m. Suherman, Marjono, and Usman fled with the troops
still loyal to them in the direction of Salatiga and Bojolali.*^'
Surjosumpeno now began sending tank and paratroop units
down to threaten Jogjakarta and Solo. The process of trying
to win back the loyalty of individual units continued unabated,
in a silent struggle for the psychological momentum which would
push a large mass of hesitating soldiers one way or the other.
Evidently by 7:30 a.m. of October 2nd, two key Battalions,
Battalion C stationed near Jogjakarta and Battalion L near
Solo, had been won back by the Divisional Commander.148
In spite of this the coup group remained in power in Jogja-
karta. Nevertheless the situation remained fluid enough for
the best respected Central Java newspaper Kedaulatan Rakjat to
dare to print reports about an "Untung jang tldak untung"T*^
and to record that Katamso and Sugijono had been removed from
Katamso's house the night before by persons unknown. This
edition was rapidly reported to Muljono, who did his best to
recall it, by seizing bundles of newspapers at the local post
office and the station. Nevertheless, apparently about one
third of the edition did manage to be smuggled out somehow in
spite of intimidation by Muljono's bully-boys.l^0 jn the after-
noon of the 2nd, a large demonstration was held in the main
part of the city in which all kinds of leftist youth took part,
but with CGMI, IPPI and Pemuda Rakjat assuming the most prominent57
role* These predominantly teenage demonstrators were flanked
by armed veterans under Muljono's command. Placards demanding
support for Untung were plastered all over the town.1^1
It seems then that Aldit's mission In Jogjakarta and his
talks with Sutrisno had only partial success* Evidently the
major PKI mass organizations were restrained from action, but
the local youth group, who had had a history of conflict and
brawling with the local military were not to be restrained.
At the crucial psychological moment, Muljono was able to in-
fluence them more effectively than the representatives of their
own party. This was not the first time that this had happened
to the PKI, and it was, as before, very damaging to the effort
to maintain the PKI's complete non-involvement in the affair.
In the meantime, for reasons that are not at all clear,
Katamso and Sugijono were removed from their temporary place
of incarceration in Kentongan and taken northwards towards
Pakem on the road to Kaliurang, and there done to death in a
very brutal manner.It is possible that the motive was re-
venge, since Katamso had been Army Commander in Delanggu during
the 1948 Madlun Affair. Since Delanggu was one of the areas
of bitterest fighting and bloody repression, it would not be
hard to find many old Madiun hands who were waiting for the
day when their dead comrades or family could be avenged.*^
By October 3rd, the tide had begun to turn in Jogjakarta,
as the news of the coup failures in Djakarta and Semarang began
to seep into the city. Muljono appears to have slipped out of
town on the night of October 2nd, returning to his family home
in Wates, about twenty minutes drive south of Jogjakarta. From
this time on he dropped out of sight until October 18th when
he was arrested by the RPKAD in the vicinity of Bojolall,
where he had once been chief of staff to the military district
commander. ” The removal of Muljono helped continue the dis-
integration of the authority of the pro-coup group in Jogjakarta.
The Pakualam was able to emerge from his enforced confinement
within the walls of the Pakualaman palace compound. Placards
against the Revolutionary Council began to appear on the streets.
By 7:30 a.m. of October 4th, the Jogjakarta radio station was
back in the hands of anti-coup group elements, and later that
afternoon radio relays from Djakarta were resumed. The same
day Surjosumpeno's negotiations with the local army officers
bore fruit. Major Kartawi, a close associate of Muljono's (he
was in charge of operations for the 72nd Military Resort), who
had evidently been left behind by Muljono to hold the fort in
Jogjakarta, was summoned to Magelang by Surjosumpeno, and
agreed to go. At Magelang, he surrendered and undertook to
collect the rebel officers together in Jogjakarta and arrange
for them to accept Surjosumpeno's authority once again. This
he was evidently successful in doing, and on October 5th,58
Surjosumpeno entered the city, with a heavy escort, and sealed
his control of the city by a ceremony at the 72nd Military
Resort Headquarters.Shortly thereafter anti-PKI mobs, en-
couraged by the Divisional Commander's presence, sacked Com*
munlst owned buildings, setting an unamiable precedent which
was to be followed in many other Indonesian towns in the weeks
that followed.1^7
In Salatiga the situation remained tense but calm under
Lieut. Col. Idris' control. The Communist Mayor, Bakri Uahab,
stayed quiet, and no communist organizations moved. So the
situation remained until early on the morning of October 4th,
when Surjosumpeno's tanks rolled into the town. Sukardi and
Sugitnan were rescued from their confinement, while Idris him*
self, with his closest associates, fled into the hills. The
pro-rebel Battalion 448, stationed just outside the town on
the road to Bojolali remained a threat however for another
week, until it was finally disarmed and moved out.^®
In Solo, the course of events was not noticeably differ-
ent. On October 2nd, the pro-coup tide was still high. Pla-
cards indicating support for Untung were plastered all over the
city. Groups of pro-coup Pemuda elements wandered round the
city in a vaguely threatening way, or hung about in groups on
the street corners. The PKI headquarters was closely quarded,
but otherwise nothing happened. Almost everyone kept off the
streets, and important local notables took care not to sleep
in their homes. (This applied to Communists as well as every-
one else). Everyone recalled the pre-Madiun weeks in Solo,
when kidnappings were the order of the day, and few of those
ki	dna	ppe	d eye r	were seen	again.	It was	not	unt	il late on
Oc	tob	er	2nd tha	t there were indi		cations	that	th	e tide had turne
At	1 :	30	a * m « on	the 3rd,	Soekarn	o mad e	his f	i rs	t radio broad-
ca	St	to	the nat	ion, and	this was	relaye	d int	o Solo, apparently	
by	an	ti-	coup el	ements wo	rking at	the ra	d i o s	tat	ion.1 As the
mo	rni	ng	wore on	, Islamic	youth g	roups b	egan	to	stream across
th	e t	own	, plast	ering the	walls w	ith ant	i -Unt	ung	placards and
s t	i ck	e rs	. The	local PNI	typi cal	ly wave	red,	finally coming out	
wi	th	an	ambi guo	us statement insi		sting o	n its	ab	solute loyalty
to	th	e P	res i den	t. By Oc	tober 4t	h, the	Solo	rad	io station was
on	ce	aga	in in t	he hands	of Surjo	sumpeno	*s men,		and the local
mi	lit	ary	comman	ders who	had been	arrest	ed by	th	e coup group
we	re	rel	eased unharmed.		They th	en bega	n the		sk of restoring
un	ity	and disci		pline in	their va	rious units.		lbO	The situation
re	mai	ned	calm b	ut tense,	with bo	th pro-	coup	and	anti-coup group
unwilling to take the risks of starting anything. Aidit and
Ramelan apparently still moved about freely in a city which
was militarily in Surjosumpeno's hands.1^1
Thus by the morning of October 5th, overt military resist-
ance to Surjosumpeno had ceased throughout Central Java. Aside
from the murders of the two Jogjakarta army chiefs, there had59
been an astonishing lack of violence. As Col. Widodo, acting
Commander of the 72nd Military Resort was later to say with
some pride:	"the 72nd Military Resort returned to the fold,
without any blood being shed."'62 Cities and loyalties changed
hands silently and peacefully. It was a game of bluff and
counter-bluff, threat and counter-threat, appeal and counter-
appeal. Troops did not fight other troops but merely pushed
them out from one place to another. It is clear that all
parties were anxious, at that point at least, to avoid a real
military confrontation. This was reflected in the official
statements published by the Central Committee of the PKI and
the Central Java Regional Committee of the party, both of which
pledged the PKI to complete obedience to the government, loyalty
to Bung Kamo and absolute non-interference in what the party
still hopefully referred to as an internal army matter.*63 On
October 6th, Sujono Atmo issued an order to all civil servants
in Central Java Insisting that they come in for work as usual,
that they remain loyal to the government, and that they leave
the solution of political problems to the President.^64 On
the other side the leftist press continued to publish in Central
Java at least ten days after its equivalent in Djakarta had
been completely suppressed.*65 whereas in the capital and in
West Java the rightist Army was completely in control, Central
Java was in a very delicate state of balance, everyone wonder-
ing what would happen next, and frightened of what might happen
if anyone pushed things too far. The statements of the rightist
Surjosumpeno and the leftist Sujono Atmo scarcely differ in
general tone during this period, both making constant appeals
for calm, peace and order in Central Java.1®^60
The Reckoning with the PKI
"The commandment-breakers were visited
by expeditionary forces and totally
destroyed..."
- Nagarakrtagama 16, V, 3.
The Untung affair was now at an end. The military con-
spiracy which had been hatched in Djakarta and Semarang had
come to an ignominious end, and it remained for the new Army
leadership simply to mop up the various conspirators. Col.
Latief was arrested near Djakarta on October 9th, and Untung
himself near Brebes on October 11th.Supardjo disappeared
from sight, and as of this writing appears still to be at
large, though reported at various times to be in Central Java
and in Kebajoran. Suherman and his friends fled to the nearest
refuge available from Semarang, the Merbabu-Merapi Complex,
and continued a miserable fugitive existence till they were
finally rounded up and shot dead by RPKAD units on December 14.*^®
It now remained for the Army leadership to decide what was
to be done in the aftermath of the abortive coup. This did not
take very long. The Chief of the Djakarta Raya Communist
organization, Njono, was arrested on October 3, and the entire
leftist press ceased to publish as of that same date.1^ By
the morning of October 4, the Army newspaper Berlta Yudha was
already opening the press campaign against the Communist Party,
and the same morning the first of a seemingly unending series
of mass demonstrations demanding the banning of the PKI took
place in the capital.Massive raids against all leftist
elements within the Djakarta perimeter followed, together with
looting and burning of PKI property and the homes of PKI
notables. Within a matter of days the Communist organization
in the capital was virtually destroyed, without any resistance
being put up. Though Njoto and Lukman were able to appear at
the Plenary Cabinet session held in Bogor on October 6, they
and Soekarno were unable to make any effective stand against
the violence of Army and anti-Communist anger, which had been
overwhelmingly aroused the day before during the massive funeral
celebrations held at the Kalibata Heroes' Cemetery, and parti-
cularly the highly emotional televised speech made there by
Nasution, while his little daughter was dying in the Army
Hospital.111 Televised and printed pictures of the (allegedly)
hideously tortured Generals' bodies were even more effective
in working up popular hysteria against the Communists.1?2 On
October 7 the Army discovered its master slogan, by branding
the coup group the GESTAPU (Ge^rakan September Ti ga Puluh -
September 30th Movement), and a systematic campaign to uproot
the Communist Party was underway.1
In spite of these developments in the capital, the situation
in the regions remained largely quiet. The two largest centresof Communist strength* Central Java and North Sumatra* were
still and tense. The local PKI committees clung to the general
line of the Central Committee's October 5th statement* offering
unconditional support to Soekarno* urging national unity, and
doing their best to appease the Army by going about their
business as normally as possible. In North Sumatra, the local
PKI chief* Djalaludin Nasution offered warm congratulations
to the Army on Armed Forces Day* hopefully reminding it of its
revolutionary past* while at the same time he stressed his own
ignorance of events in Djakarta and the great distance between
Medan and the capital.174 In Central Java much the same
occurred* as the statements issued by the Central Java PKI
leadership* and by the local PKI committees in Jogjakarta*
Klaten and Solo clearly indicate.*7^
But the end was clearly in sight. Left to itself Central
Java was fairly evenly divided between left and right; but
once Djakarta began to Intervene this balance could not be
maintained. As soon as the situation in Djakarta and West
Java was secured* Suharto and Nasution ordered RPKAD and
Siliwangi units into Central Java. On October 17* the RPKAD
entered Semarang* and fanned out in the direction of Bojolall.
The same day Surjosumpeno for the first time felt able to issue
a public warrant for the arrest of Suherman and his friends —
evidently all hope of bringing them in by "internal" Army
negotiations had by then been abandoned. 78 On the 18th the
RPKAD succeeded in arresting Major Muljono in the village of
Karanggenang in that district.*’7
On October 19th* the RPKAD held a victory parade and show
of strength in Semarang* though actually there had still been
no fighting whatsoever* and virtually no blood shed. Then
later that afternoon the bodies of Col. Katamso and Lieut. Col.
Sugijono were found not far from Pakem on the lower slopes of
Mount Merapi.178
As in Djakarta* the finding of the corpses of murdered
officers was the signal for a wave of anti-Communist repressions
to begin* which could be carried out all the more securely since
now there was considerable outside armed strength to back it
up. The following day* October 20, simultaneously with the
announcement of the exhumation of the bodies* Col. Widodo* act-
ing Commander of the 72nd Military Resort, declared a ban on
the activities of the PKI and all its affiliated organizations
within the area under his control.*7^ The Communist-leaning
newspaper* Waspada, which had kept on printing three weeks
after all the leftist press in Djakarta had been silenced,
(and two weeks after the Semarang Communist organ Gema Massa
had been shut down by Surjosumpeno), was soon suppressed•
In Semarang mobs began attacking Communist and Chinese build-
ings and property* following almost exactly the pattern that62
Later in the day
of Communist organ-
2 The reckoning had
evably* no violence
to be trying desper-
self* or the mob
the RPKAD* is not
clear* but on or about October 21* the Central Javanese Com-
munists* or at least a considerable number of them*evidently
decided that the desperate policy of accomodation urged by
Aidit on his last mission was now futile and hopeless* The .
Army clearly intended to destroy the party root and branch* how-
ever compliant and submissive it might be. Moreover, with the
arrest of many of its top leaders* and the loss of Aidit* the
party's tight hierarchical control-system began to break up*
allowing undisciplined and desperate elements to take their
own initiatives.
had developed previously in West Java.181
General Surjosumpeno froze all activities
izations for the whole of Central Java.^8
clearly come* though still* almost unbeli
had occurred* and the PKI appeared still
ately to roll with the punches, 8^
Whether it was the ban on the PKI it
actions in Semarang* or the activities of
On October 21st the Communist-controlled railway-workers
in Semarang and Solo struck.*8^ Needless to say it was a
matter of a few hours before the RPKAD's "tough" tactics had
the trains rolling again* at least in and out of Semarang.
At the same time throughout the Central Javanese countryside*
the knowledge of the steady influx of RPKAD and Siliwangi
units spread rapidly. With the knowledge that the military
balance of power was now suddenly heavily in their favour* the
Moslems began to attack the local PKI cadres* wreaking long-
fostered vengeance. PKI leaders* anticipating the arrival of
the dreaded Siliwangi* with bitter memories of the aftermath
of the Madiun affair* decided to move while they could and wreak
their own vengeance while they still had a chance. And without
the RPKAD or the Siliwangi themselves having to do very much*
or even necessarily being fully aware of what their presence
would precipitate* the news of their arrival was the catalyst
for a wave of murder* torture* arson and revenge sweeping
across the plain of Klaten* up towards the Gunung Kidul and
along the slopes of the volcanoes Merapi and Merbabu. On the
night of the 21st Communist youth elements* probably under the
leadership of the Communist Bupati of Bojolali tried to take
back the town from the occupying RPKAD* but were speedily driven
out into the hills.*88 On October 22nd* the RPKAD marched into
Solo and took control* arresting the Communist Mayor* Utomo
Ramelan. The same day riots and mob action against the PKI
took place in most of the city.*88 As if in answer to these
moves* Incidents broke out on October 23rd in the districts of
Karanganjar and Prambanan* roads being barricaded by youths
armed with sharpened bamboo spears and clubs. But it was only
a matter of hours before AURI Commandos from Adisutjipto air-
field and Surjosumpeno's local paratroop units cleared them63
again, and the Communist villagers fled into the countryside.*®^
Violence now became general in the whole Klaten-Bojolali area,
no quarter being given on either side* On October 23th a curfew
was declared for the Residency of Surakarta, and on October
26th, Surjosumpeno announced that he was putting the whole of
Central Java under Martial Law**®® In the cities the PKI was
rapidly rounded up and destroyed* In the countryside the
process took a little longer, but followed essentially the same
course* The struggle was completely one-sided, as the local
PKI had never been trained for combat, and had virtually no
arms. Moreover the Army immediately began training and arming
vigilante bands of Nationalist and Islamic youths to scour the
villages for those suspected of Communist sympathies. Effective
resistance was over very quickly, and peace—of a kind—was
restored to Central Java.*®9 In spite of the end of the •'fight-
ing", such as it was, the massacres continued, indeed spread
rapidly and even more violently to East Java, and also to
Atjeh, North Sumatra and Menado* President Soekarno has re-
cently estimated that some 87,000 have been slaughtered, though
unofficial estimates indicate that the figure may be nearer
200,000. 190
It is not the place here to go into the details of the anti-
communist campaign which developed in the wake of the Army coup
of October 1* It is however vitally important to stress that
the two, though intimately related, nevertheless form 3_uit£
separate political phenomena; and that between the deaths of
the six generals in Djakarta on the morning of October 1st,
and the clashes in Bojolali on October 2lst, three weeks elapsed
in which no violence or trace of civil war occurred, even ac-
cording to the Array itself! What fighting finally developed
began when the PKI realized it had no hope of surviving a ruth-
less Army purge whatever it did, and when the long-dampened
fires of inter-all ran hatreds in the villages of Central and
East Java burst into long-threatened flame.
The dramas of October 1 and October 21 had entirely differ-
ent casts of characters, settings and scenarios. The October
1st coup was essentially an internal Army affair, stemming
from a small clique in the Diponegoro Division, which attempted
to use both Soekarno and the PKI leadership for its own ends,
and succeeded merely in irremediably damaging the moral and
political authority of the one, and causing the physical des-
truction of the other. The brief "civil war" of late October,
though precipitated by the events of October 1st, represented
the logical culmination of deeply-felt hostilities and hatreds
between a far wider range of groups and ideologi es — ri ght and
left, Islam and Communism, landlord and landless, santri and
abangan, prljajl and peasant.64
The irony of October 1st is that in one night all the
elaborate political manoeuvrings of the previous decade vere
reduced to meaninglessness, in an action of which none of the
major actors had any real comprehension. For years the Army,
Soekarno and the PKI had been so deeply absorbed with each
other, so obsessed by their efforts to control, influence, in-
filtrate, undermine, intimidate and outwit each other that it
seems never to have occurred to them that quite another group
might take a hand. The brilliant General Parman claimed that
he was never more than three hours behind the PKI at any moment,
so effective was his espionage on Communist activities. Yet
he was carried off an unresisting victim to his death on the
orders of a confidant of his own Chief of Intelligence in
Central Java. Both Parman and Aidit were caught completely
unawares by the intervention of outsiders whose aspirations
and frustrations they had either never studied or never under-
s tood.
The intricate sandcastle of political institutions built
for Indonesia by President Soekarno and his oratory are vanish-
ing into the wind, the toil and trouble of years undone by a
few hours of senseless bloodshed.
One thinks irresistibly of a long and complicated game of
chess, played by two Grandmasters, which has continued uninter-
ruptedly for days, and in which very slowly the advantage has
swung to one side, but with the issue still in doubt. Suddenly
a long-ignored, frustrated child rushes into the room and with
one kick sends board and pieces flying. The Grandmaster with
the advantage pleads for the pieces to be put back where they
were, and for the game to be continued as before. His opponent
however, (who is incidentally much bigger and stronger), insists
that the entire game must start all over. Better still they
should stop playing chess, and switch to all-in wrestling —
with no holds barred.FOOTNOTES
(A) Throughout the following account the authors have sought to offer a co-
herent explanation of the events triggered by Lt. Colonel Untung on the
morning of October 1. Inevitably, in order to arrive at any explanation
the authors must weigh probabilities and exercise inference, as well as
simply arrange the scattered "facts" that have been available to them*
At some junctures in the account assumption has not been sharply dis-
tinguished from fact for the sake of maintaining coherence* However,
in these cases the points at issue are discussed in footnotes and in the
Appendix.
(1)	To this day, when a Javanese says he is going to the Negari (the city),
he means Surakarta or Jogjakarta.
(2)	The usual image of the Jogjanese is that of directness, relative sim-
plicity, courage, and discipline. (Needless to say the Solonese
generally despite these virtues, and regard the Jogjanese as hopelessly
kasar). The Solonese pride themselves on their wordly sophistication,
subtlety, realism, and elegance (Needless to say the Jogjanese largely
despite these virtues and regard the Solonese as sly and decadent.).
Given these rough distinctions it is not surprising that many Solonese
have gone into politics, while the Jogjanese have often preferred the
military.
(3)	The one senior military officer from the Surakarta area is Lieutenant
General G. P. H. Djatikusumo, who has, since the revolution, made his
career almost exclusively in Djakarta and abroad. On the political side,
however, the ascendancy of Solo is quite remarkable. At least 11 members
of the present Cabinet are "Solonese", compared to 3 from Jogjakarta.
(A) For a full discussion of the October 17, 1952 affair, see Feith, Herbert,
The Wilopo Cabinet, 1952-1953:	A Turning Point in Post-Revolutionary
Indonesia (Cornell Modern Indonesia Project, Monograph Series; Ithaca,
New York, 1958), pp. 114-115.
(5)	Suherman is also referred to variously as Suhirman and Sahirman. For
convenience his name is spelled Suherman throughout this analysis.
(6)	This judgment of the relative importance of various officers involved in
the September 30th Movement is based primarily on the relative frequency
and relative prominence of mention of these 7 in various official, quasi-
official, and press accounts. In addition, there is some reliance on
information secured by the authors on a private basis. For a list of the
13 Army officers dishonorably discharged see AB, December 11.
(7)	See the speech by General Nasutlon in which he states that the situation
in Central Java was 607. in favor of the September 30th Movement mili-
tarily as well as politically. Angkatan Bersendjata (AB) November 30.
(8)	Berita Yudha (BY), October 23.
6566
(9)	Antara (News Bulletin) October 23 and BY, October 25. — B. For the
location of Battalion 454 in Srondol, see the Jogja daily Naslonal,
December 19, 1963.
(10) It is not known just when Untung assumed this post or when he left it,
but as of February 1964 the Army Information Center's weekly paper re-
ferred to him as holding it. Sapta Marga February 13, 1964.
(11)	For identification of Battalion 530 and its commander, see BY, November
6 and AB, October 21, 1965.
(12)	For description of the Pranoto and Untung roles in the Armed Forces Day
celebrations, see BY, September 21, 1965.
(13)	In the course of a press conference called to announce new security
measures being taken by the Djakarta Army Command in the wake of the
recent theft of weapons from a military post on Djalan Surabaja, the
Djakarta Raja Military Commander Major General Umar Wirahadikusumah
gave this figure. The text of the press report is as follows:
"The total number of Armed Forces personnel in the capital city has
been steadily rising since 1962 due to the Trlkora Command under which
the capital served as the center for concentrating troops.
"The Commander said that before 1962 there were only several thou-
sand Armed Forces personnel in the capital, while currently the total
had already reached 60,000." See Puta Masjarakat, October 1, 1965.
The context suggests that this total does not include those Armed
Forces units brought into the city for Armed Forces Day.
(14)	See the confessions of three trainees with alleged FKI and/or Pemuda
Rakjat affiliation:	Apt, November 3; Api, November 7; Puta Revolusi,
November 10; AB, November 16. For reference to the use of Lubang Buaja
as a training site, see the speech of General Suharto on the night of
October 4 reported in BY, October 5. The same paper carries another
story stating that the training had been carried on for three months.
This length of time seems consistent also with the fact that in late
June the Air Force Commander Omar Dhani had made a speech supporting the
controversial FKI proposal for a Fifth Armed Forces of workers and
peasants. Dhani justified this position by saying that it was Air Force
strategy to defend its bases with local people. See Antara. June 22,
1965.
It is possible that the presence of the trainees was accidental and
that the use made of them was partly a last minute improvisation.
(15)	Api, November 3. Also see the speech of Major General Suharto on October
15 to members of the National Front central and regional boards. (Mimeo-
. graphed)• This important document is henceforth cited as S uharto speech,
October 15.
(16)	Pelopor, October 9, and BY, October 17.
(17)	This is the conclusion to be drawn from specific references to Arief in
separate accounts of five of the seven raids. For these see below, foot-
notes 19-26.67
(18)	Berita Yudha Minggu, December 5.
(19)	Pelopor, October 9 and Berita Yudha Minggu, December 5. Lt. General
Achmad Yani was at the time of his death Minister/Commander of the Army.
For additional biographical detail on Yani, see BY, October 6.
(20)	Berita Yudha Minggu, December 5 and BY, October 6. Major-General
Soeprapto was at the time of his death Second Deputy to Minister/Commander
of the Army Yani. For further biographical detail on Soeprapto, see BY,
October 6.
(21)	BY, October 17, BY, December 12 and AB, December 12. Major-General S.
Parman was at the time of his death Assistant I (Intelligence) to Minister/
Commander of the Army Yani. For further biographical detail on Parman see
BY, October 6.
(22)	Berita Yudha Minggu, November 21. Brig.-Gen. Soetojo Siswomihardjo was
at the time of his death Auditor-General and Law Inspector of the
Indonesian Army. For further biographical detail, see BY, October 6.
(23)	Kompas, October 25, BY, October 11, and December 13, as well as Berita
Yudha Minggu. November 21. Brig.-Gen. Donald Isack Pandjaitan at the
time of his death was Assistant IV (Logistics) to the Minister/Commander
of the Army Yani. For further biographical details on Pandjaitan, see
BY, October 6.
(24)	A recent statement by the Kebajoran Baru Police indicates that Mrs.
Pandjaitan had sufficient time to contact a neighbor who in turn con-
tacted the Police Inspector (Inspector Dinas). The Inspector immediately
telephoned the Pandjaitan home. After determining that shooting was in
process, the Inspector's contact with the Pandjaitan home was broken. He
then immediately reported to the local Resort Police Commander who ordered
his men to go directly to Pandjaitan's residence. Upon arrival this
police force discovered that the attackers had already departed with
Pandjaitan. One policeman, who had arrived independently of the main
police group, was taken away by the attacking party to Lubang Buaja where
he managed to escape. See BY, December 13.
(25)	Berita Yudha Minggu, November 28. Major General M. T. Harjono at the
time of his death was Third Deputy to the Minister/Commander of the Army
Yani. For further biographical details on Harjono, see Angkatan Bersend-
jata, October 11.
(26)	Berita Yudha Minggu, October 24. Also see an account of the attack on
Dr. Leimena's guards in Berita Yudha Minggu, October 10 and confession in
Puta Revolusi, November 10.
(27)	Suharto speech, October 15.
(28) See speech of Dhani in support of Fifth Force in Antara, June 22, 1965.
(29) See Dhani speech in support of Fifth Force and other sources related to
the Air Force training of Pemuda Rakjat at Lubang Buaja cited above in
footnote 14. An indication of the extent to which the Air Force training68
operation had poisoned Air Force-Array relations is a post-coup editorial
in the semi-official Army newspaper Angkatan Bersendjata. It included
this statement:	"Gestapu almost succeeded in creating conflict between
the Army and the Air Force as reflected in the Pemuda Rakjat/Gerwani
training at Halim Air Base in Lubang Buaja...." See AB, November 25*
(30)	See BY, October 5 and also see confessions cited in footnote 14 above*
(31)	Major (Air) Sujono was the first Air Force officer whose discharge and
arrest was officially announced. See RRI broadcast, October 20* Shortly
thereafter at least three additional officers (Overste Heru Atmodjo,
Major Gatot Sukrisno and Major Sukarto Kartono) were discharged. See
Api, October 24* For a report of the Air Force Investigation Command
arresting a number of Air Force personnel on suspicion of involvement in
the conspiracy, see RRI broadcast, October 30* A subsequent report re-
counts an extensive shuffling of top officers in the Air Force. See AB,
December 16.
(32)	Suharto reports that he first believed Dhani had been kidnapped (ditjulik)
by the Untung group. A short time later Suharto learned that Dhani had
in fact been "taken to a safe place by his own men" (diselamatkan oleh
anak buahnja). See Suharto speech, October 15. Also see earlier Suharto
comment on October 4 in which he pointedly takes exception to the Presi-
dent's attempt to absolve the Air Force from any involvement. See BY,
October 5.
As for the question of the degree of Dhani's involvement in the con-
spiracy, it is noteworthy that he was dispatched abroad on a study mission
in mid-October and then subsequently relieved of his post as Minister/
Commander of the Air Force on November 24. The fact that he was, however,
given another ministerial post — though admittedly one of little promi-
nence — suggests that the Army does not regard Dhani or the Air Force
as a whole as involved in the planning of the attempted coup. See Api,
October 18 and RRI broadcast, November 27. More recently a statement by
General Nasution indicates that Dhani may, however, face punishment in
the future. See BY, December 4.
(33)	Antara, October 1- B. See Appendix for the text of the announcement.
(34)	Significantly most of the "prominent people in the Indonesian community"
who would also have been likely "targets of the Council of Generals" were
not in Djakarta on the night of September 30. The two top Communist
Party leaders after Aidit were both out of town. Njoto was in Medan on
an inspection tour with eleven other Ministers. (See Harlan Harapan (Medan)
October 1. Lukman was traveling in Central Java. (See Surabaja Post,
November 5.) Other likely "targets" would have included First Deputy 28-B)
Prime Minister Subandrio, who was also in Medan. (See Antara, September/.
Two other possibilities were Third Deputy Prime Minister Chaerul Saleh
and Chairman of the Nationalist Party Ali Sastroamidjojo. Both of them
were in Peking for the National Day celebrations. (See Antara, October
2-A) •
The only remaining major "targets" in Djakarta on the night of Septem-
ber 30 are then Air Force Commander Dhani and Communist Party Chairman
Aidit. It is known that Dhani was brought to Halim apparently by Air Foice69
personnel linked to Untung. (See Suharto speech, October 15 and foot-
note 32 above.) The question of precisely when and how Aidit came to
Halim is more difficult.
Reports of Aidit's movements on the day of October 1 are scant, but
suggestive. Mrs. Aidit is reported to have told Army authorities that
her husband had been kidnapped by rightist elements and taken to an un-
known destination. (See AFP report from Singapore, October 7). Another
source claims also that Aidit was "kidnapped" (dilarikan). Significantly
this is from an anti-Communist Islamic paper which would not be likely
to put Aidit in a favorable light. The same report also says Aidit was
taken to Halim Air Base at Tjililitan and then flown to Central Java.
(See Puta Revolusi. October 9.) These latter two points are consistent
with a number of later reports that show that Aidit did, indeed, leave
Halim by plane about midnight of October 1 and arrived in Jogja about
two hours later. See Api Pantjasila, October 14; Surabaja Post. November
8; Kedaulatan Rakjat. November 9; Kompas. November 24 and Asahi (Japanese
English-language daily), November 29. These reports constitute strong
circumstantial evidence that Aidit was in fact at Halim considerably
prior to his departure for Central Java. Certainly it would have been
unlikely he could have gone to Halim -- whether voluntarily or under
duress -- after Suharto became aware that the Untung group had control
of Halim. Judging from Suharto's own statement his suspicions of the Air
Force -- and very likely of Halim after his attempts to establish liaison
with Halim did not bear fruit -- arose quite early in the morning. Pre-
sumably from that point on units from Kostrad (which is only about 3 miles
from Halim) guarded the approaches to Halim. In any case, it is clear
that Suharto's forces had begun to surround Halim soon after 6:00 P.M.
Although couriers from Halim seem to have been allowed to go into the
city both to deliver press releases and to summon several Ministers for
the President, it seems highly unlikely that the Army under Suharto would
permit free passage to their prime political enemy.
Apart from this conjecture about access to the base, it is noteworthy
that despite a concerted Army campaign to blame the conspiracy on the PKI
there is yet to be any Army explanation for where Aidit was during the
day of October 1. While the Army naturally does not wish to unnecessarily
embarrass the President and flatter Aidit by suggesting that Aidit was
at Halim with the President, there is no such inhibition on saying that
Aidit was elsewhere -- unless enough persons know that in fact Aidit was
at Halim. Furthermore, in terms of the hypothesis presented here, it is
highly plausible that Aidit was brought to Halim by Untung adherents
early on the morning of the first. For it is likely that the Untung group
felt that Aidit's presence at Halim would help to convince Soekarno that
he should quickly and publicly support the September 30th Movement.
The possibility that other "prominent leaders" may have been brought
to Halim early in the morning of the 1st is not to be ruled out. It does
seem, however, rather unlikely that Untung would have employed any more
of his limited forces for taking under protection lesser figures than
Aidit and Dhani. Presumably he would have used any additional available
troops to kidnap the Djakarta Raja Commander Umar. Yet there is no charge
from the Army that Untung made any attempt on Umar.
Finally, in considering who might have been brought to Halim by Untung,
it must be noted that there is evidence that other leaders were at Halim
on October 1st. In the absence of any indication of when or how they came70
to Halim and in view of the fact that they do not appear to have had any
critical role to play in the Untung strategy, the presumption is that
they came at the President's beckon after midday* They came then with
Untung*s approval — and possibly — with Suharto's knowledge* These
leaders include Second DeputyPrime Minister Leimena, Navy Commander
Martadinata and Police Commander Sutjipto Judodihardjo. See Kedaulatan
Rakjat, October 4. For further discussion of their presence at Halim,
see below p. 30 and especially footnote 63*
(35)	Api, October 17*
(36)	Mertju Suar,	and Api, October 17*
(37)	See discussions below on pages 44 - 55 of General Sabur's role at a
later stage in the events of October 1*
(38)	In a speech on December 6 the President himself states that he was at
Commander Susanto's house at Halim on October 1. See RRI broadcast,
December 6* At that time Susanto was serving as Director of Operations
for the Air Force* Such a post would make it likely that he would have
a home at Halim which is the center of Air Force operations* See
Kedaulatan Rakjat, October 1*
(39)	Among the most detailed confessions are those of Mrs* Djamilah of Pemuda
Rakjat, Suparno Bin Sastrosumarto of Pemuda Rakjat, and Memed who is
identified only as a PKI sympathizer. See Api, November 7; Angkatan
Bersendjata, November 16; and Api, November 3* Also see confession of
another Lubang Buaja trainee who is reported to have witnessed the torture
of General Suprapto. See Duta Masjarakat, October 25* Compare this with
a later account of Suprapto's death in Berita Yudha Minggu. December 5.
(40) See particularly the confessions of Mrs. Djamilah and Suparno cited above.
(41) The Djamilah confession mentions the participation of several PGT men.
See Api, November 7. Some indication that the PGT's role was limited
is the vigorous Air Force denial of their involvement and the fact that
to date no notice has appeared of their punishment. See RRI broadcast,
October 20.
For a report of the participation of 3000 members of the Sobsi-
affiliated Air Force Workers Union, see Duta Revolusi, October 9. In
spite of this it is noteworthy that the Air Force apparently felt it had
sufficient forces to take control of the Djakarta TV station. See BY,
December 13.
(42)	One of the trainees was given a different pretext. He was told that he
was needed to help withstand an imminent attack from the Islamic student
organization (the HMI)* See Memed confession in Api, November 3.
(43)	Berita Yudha Minggu, December 5. Also see confessions cited in footnote
39.
(44)	For details see Berita Yudha Minggu. December 12.
(45)	AB, November 16.71
(46)	In the initial Army accounts of the killing of the Generals great stress
was placed on alleged torture and mutilation by Communist youth and
women. (See statement by General Suharto on the finding of the Generals'
bodies at Lubang Buaja and the pictorial spread on the front pages of
the Army-sponsored newspapers Berita Yudha and Angkatan Bersendjata for
October 5.) This theme found lurid elaboration in the confessions of
Memed (Api, November 3); Djamin (Puta Mas jarakat, October 25); and
especially Djamilah (Api, November 7).
Subsequently there have been increasing signs that these initial
stories suffered from severe inflation. The confession of Supamo in
AB on November 16 conceded that five of the seven victims were simply
shot without any hint of torture or mutilation. And the two officers
— Tendean and Suprapto — who were tortured according to Supamo only
received blows from rifle butts. Still more significant has been the
President's public charge that the initial horror stories were unfounded.
In speeches on December 12 and December 22, the President claimed that
the doctors who inspected the bodies of the slain generals reported that
there had been no ghastly mutilation of the eyes and genitals as earlier
recounted in the Array press. See Suara Islam. December 13. Berita Yudha
of December23 reports the President's speech without the allegations.
Also see E. Gibbon's analysis on p. 86 below.
(47)	See Djamilah confession in Api, November 7.
(48)	See Memed confession in Apt. November 3.
(49)	See Supamo confession in AB, November 16.
(50)	In the case of North Sumatra in 1956, the Army central leadership in
Djakarta successfully used the pro-Communist regimental commander in East
Sumatra Lt. Col. Wahab Makmur and his supporters in Communist mass
organizations as a lever to force Col. Djamin Gintings to move against
the rebellious Medan Commander Col. Simbolon. See Feith, Herbert, The
Decline of Constitutional Democracy in Indonesia (Cornell University Press,
1962), pp. 525-531.
In the case of West Sumatra after the PRRI rebellion, the Army made
use of the PKI to assist in pacifying this predominantly Moslem area.
Subsequently in 1961 when administrative autonomy began to be restored to
villages in the area, the PKI was eased out of most of the positions it
had previously been given.
(51)	Texts of the first Untung proclamation are available in both the English
and Indonesian versions of Antara for October 1 (Afternoon Edition). For
a full English translation, see the Appendix.
(52)	Untung not only identified himself as the leader of the September 30th
Movement which had been formed to crush the CIA-Generals' plot against
the President and the Republic, but he gave highly personal motives for
his action. See Antara, October 1-B and the Appendix.
(53)	It is also possible that Soekarno may have already observed that Pemuda
Rakjat people were being employed as guards by the Untung group or Untung
may have simply told him of the necessity of using reliable elements of72
the Pemuda Rakjat because of the relatively small numbers of troops
allied with Untung. In any case, it would seem that Aidit's presence
at Halim would be required to convince Soekamo that the Army would
regard the IKI as implicated.
(54)	The text of the first Untung proclamation is available in both the
English and Indonesian versions of Antara for the afternoon of October
1. See Appendix, for the authors' hopefully more accurate translation
of the Indonesian original.
(55)	A practical consideration which may well also have influenced this
permissive attitude was the limited number of troops at Untung's dis-
posal. Compare the similar situation in Jogjakarta on October 2, as
recorded in Kedaulatan Rakjat, October 20.
(56) It is important to note that in this initial reference to the formation
of a Revolutionary Council that there was no indication that President
Soekamo would cease to function as President and Supreme Leader of the
Revolution. Nor was the possibility that he might be appointed head of
the Revolutionary Council as yet excluded. (It was not until the second
Untung broadcast at 2:00 p.m. that it was made plain that Untung and his
friends would themselves hold the posts of Chairman and Vice-Chairmen of
the new Council.) This crucial fact together with the repeated emphasis
on the September 30th Movement's effort to thwart the Generals' coup in
order to safeguard the President made it clear to Indonesian listeners
that Untung had not acted against the President.
(57)	In October 1964 in his address to the Cairo Conference of Non-aligned
Nations Soekamo had unequivocably denounced the policy of non-alignment
as outdated in an era when world politics had become divided into two
irreconcilable forces, i.e. "the new emerging forces and the old estab-
lished forces". This speech marked the culmination of a trend dating
back at least to the spring of 1961 when Soekamo's foreign policy began
to strike a more militant anti-imperialist posture than that of the
champions of non-alignment in the third world — i.e. India and the
U.A.R. This growing disaffection with non-alignment was reflected in
the supplanting of the description of Indonesian policy as "free and
active" by a stress on what was called Indonesia's "confrontation"
foreign policy. Contrast, for example, Soekamo's address before the
United Nations in September 1960 with the above-mentioned Cairo speech
in October 1964. See Soekamo, Toward Freedom and Dignity of Man
(Djakarta:	Department of Foreign Affairs, Republic of Indonesia, 1961),
pp. 121-149, and Soekamo, The Era of Confrontation (Djakarta:	Depart-
ment of Foreign Affairs, Republic of Indonesia, 1964).
(58)	For the text of the Dhani statement, see Antara (Warta Berita), October
1-B. The fact that Dhani has never denied that he issued this statement
— in contrast to two prominent PNI leaders who have vigorously denied
that they ever issued a not too dissimilar a statement — makes it highly
unlikely that this "statement" was a forgery. That he is still held
accountable for it is also revealed in Nasution's remarks on Dhani re-
ported in BY, December 4. Also see footnote 32 above.73
(59)	RRI broadcast, October 1.
(60)	See discussion of the Suherman-Untung group's likely attitude toward
Suharto, on p. 29 above.
(61)	Suharto displayed these attitudes during the "July 3rd Affair" in 1946
when he rejected Soekamo's order that he replace Gen. Sudarsono as
Commander of the 10th (Jogja) Division. See Sedjarah T.N.I. Komando
Daerah Militer VII Diponegoro (Typescript anonymous), pp. 101-103.
(62)	The text of the President's appointment of Pranoto is found in Antara
(Warta Berita) October 2-A and Harian Rakjat, October 2. Also for 1:30
as the time of its announcement, see Indonesian Daily News (Surabaja),
October 4.
(63)	The summoning of Umar and Pranoto is reported in Suharto's speech to
National Front representatives on October 15. Leimena's presence at
Halim is confirmed by his own testimony. See his speech to the National
Front representatives on October 15 (Mimeographed). According to Dhani,
Leimena, Commander of the Navy Martadinata, Commander of the Police
Sutjipto Judodihardjo and "various other leaders" all talked to the
President — presumably at Halim — on October 1 prior to his issuing
of his order appointing Major General Pranoto as "caretaker" of the
Army, see statement of Omar Dhani issued on October 2 in Central Java
and printed in the Jogja daily Kedaulatan Rakjat, October 4. The fact
that the forces of the loyal Diponegoro Commander Surjosumpeno did not
retake Jogja until the morning of the 4th — about the time this issue
of Kedaulatan Rakjat would have appeared -- strongly suggests that
Dhani's statement is authentic. Also it has yet to appear in the Army-
censored Djakarta press. The Dhani statement does not, however, indi-
cate when or how these leaders came to Halim. Leimena's statement shows,
however, that he did not reach Halim before mid-morning.
(64)	For the text of the Sabur statement, see Antara (Warta Berita), October
1-B and RRI broadcast, October 1. The authenticity of Sabur's signature
on this statement is indicated by the fact that he has never chosen to
deny its validity. Also the significance of the announcement in the
negotiations between Soekamo and Untung also points to its validity.
See discussion in paragraph below and the discussion below on page 44
of Sabur's later role in the events of October 1. For report of the re-
lease of the Sabur statement by his Chief of Staff, Lt. Colonel Marokeh
Santoso at Tjakrabirawa Headquarters at 12:00 p.m*, see Sinar Harapan,
October 1 and Kedaulatan Rakjat, October 11. It is noteworthy that in
another Sabur announcement broadcast by the Army several hours after they
regained control of the radio station the phrase "continues to hold the
leadership of the state" again appears. But the Army-sponsored Berita
Yudha replaces the word "continues" with the word "returns". Compare RRI
broadcast, October 2 with BY, October 2.
(65)	For just such a reaction see the left-leaning Warta Minggu (Solo) for
October 10. It notes that the Untung story was that he had rescued Bung
Kamo from the Generals' coup. "This point was reinforced by the announce-
ment of Brigadier General Sabur, Commander of the Tjakrabirawa Regiment,74
that the President was safe and well*" (Hal ini diperkuat dengan
pengumuman Brigdjen Sabur, Komandan Tjakrabirawa, bahwa President dalam
keadaan sehat walafiat.)
(66)	The following account of the counter-coup efforts of the forces directed
by Major General Suharto is based for the most part on Suharto's own
version of the events of October 1 and 2* See Suharto speech, October 15*
Significant amendments and additions to the Suharto version will be
noted.
(67)	Umar could not have gone to his own Divisional Headquarters because,
according to the account given by Lt« General Djatikusumo, it was heavily
guarded by forces allied to Untung. See Pelopor Minggu, October 17*
(68)	Rukun Tetangga is a neighborhood association whose responsibilities in-
clude intelligence and security* This institution did not, however,
always function with the same efficiency displayed by the association
in Suharto's neighborhood* One instance of its breakdown in the crisis
atmosphere of early October 1 appears to have occurred in the area in-
cluding the home of Major General Harjono.
(69)	Suharto stated in his account that he immediately recognized that the
Untung group was lying about its motives for arresting the Generals
because Suharto himself was personally certain that there was no such
thing as a Generals' Council as charged in the first Untung broadcast.
(70)	It is known that Commander of the Air Force Omar Dhani had by this time
already been "rescued" and brought to Halim by Air Force subordinates*
Air Vice-Marshal Sri Muljono Herlambang was with First Deputy Prime
Minister Subandrio in Sumatra. See Suharto speech, October 15 and
Antara, September 28-B.
(71)	The Indonesian phrase used by Major-General Sarbini was "main2 terhadap
negara". See BY. October 17. The following story is based on this
account by Sarbini himself*
(72)	It is, of course, the President's custom to call a number of Ministers,
Ambassadors and various other persons to his daily breakfast "audiences".
It is also noteworthy that according to General Yani's wife, the General
had an appointment with the President for 7:30 a.m. that morning. See
Pelopor, October 9.
(73)	American diplomats are reported to have seen high officers approach and
confer with officers of the 530 and 454 Battalions stationed in the
Freedom Square located in front of the presidential palace* The American
Embassy also overlooks this square* See dispatch of Seth King in New
York Times, October 17.
(74)	Api Pantjasila. October 31. Part of the Surabaja slang employed included
this coarse phrase which defies precise translation into English* "Lho
lah opo kene, ajo mulih balik njang pangkalan* Dantjuk ko-en*"75
<75) For texts of these broadcasts, see RRI broadcasts, October 1 and Harlan
Rakjat, October 2. For complete texts of all the Untung statements
except for the long decree, see Antara (Warta Berlta), October 1,-B.
For a translation of these statements see the Appendix.
(76) The whole broadcast betrays signs of haste and confusion. It conveys
the impression that the President had been put aside when, in fact,
the Untung group was probably still hoping to persuade the President
to support the September 30th Movement and announce himself what he
had just allowed the Commander of his bodyguard to announce, i.e. that
the President continued to hold the top leadership of the state.
In this regard, the subsequent Army contention that the Untung
group overthrew Soekarno*s authority by declaring the Dwikora "demis-
sionary" is not borne out by a careful analysis of the text. In the
first place, the term "demisioner" is the classical word in Indonesian
parlance for a "caretaker" government which has been defeated in
parliament. Yet under the Constitution of 1945 on which Guided
Democracy is based, the cabinet is not responsible to parliament, but
to the President. Secondly, the President's position as Prime Minister
is an anomaly, since such a post has no meaning under the 1945 Consti-
tution particularly when the President assumes it himself. Thirdly,
Guided Democracy was, even formally, an odd mixture of liberal termi-
nology and post-liberal period practice, i.e. Djuanda (and now Subandrio)
have been regarded by all but the most sophisticated political public
as Prime Minister though in fact he was First Minister. In any case,
the crucial point is again that given the muddled character of the
statement, it seems doubtful that Untung and his friends fully under-
stood the implications that might be drawn from their own statement.
It may not have occurred to them that their declaration would be con-
strued as being aimed at the President rather than simply at the
Cabinet.
(77)	Since the coup Brig. Gen. Amir Machmud has been installed as Commander
of Djakarta Raya Division. See BY, December 7. This is a clear indi-
cation of the confidence the anti-Communist Nasution-Suharto Army
leadership has in Amir.
(78)	For a full list of the 45-member Dewan Revolusi see Antara (Warta Berita).
October 1-B and October 2-A. Further signs of a lack of political sophis-
tication and haste were the failure to include more than one representa-
tive for the entire island of Sumatra and the complete lack of represen-
tation for the Catholic Party, Partindo, IPKI or the Civil Service. The
membership list, with affiliations where these are known, is included
in the Appendix.
(79)	In spite of the muddled nature of the membership of the Revolutionary
Council, its overall vaguely Nasakomish complexion may have been consis-
tent with Untung*s emphasis that the September 30th Movement sought
adjustments only within the Army and not in the polity at large.
(80)	RRI broadcast, October 1. Antara (Warta Berita), October 1-B.76
(81)	Clearly Untung and his group had no particular interest in Soekarno's
children. This is another clear example of a Soekarno initiative.
(82)	BY, October 16. Antara,
(83)	Suharto speech, October 15.
(84) It is not clear at what time they were sent into Djakarta — whether
early in the morning to help hold the center of the town, in a situa-
tion where Untung and his group were severely short of men, or later
when it seemed that "reinforcements" were needed as the Suharto tactics
had their effect. If the Communist Youth (Pemuda Rakjat) were guarding
the National Front building, they can scarcely have failed to observe
the to-and-fro of Army couriers. Accordingly one is surprised that
they would not have had their suspicions as to what was going on. On
the other hand, if they were sent in as reinforcements one must assume
that they had been given some idea that Battalion 530 was no longer the
reliable unit that it had been earlier on. In any case they surrendered
without a fight and played no significant part in the silent struggle
for Djakarta that day.
(85)	The afternoon edition of the Indonesian version of Antara (Warta Berita)
on October 1 gives 3:35 p.m. as the time of its publication.
(86) The afternoon papers of October 1 remain an important matter for inves-
tigation. There is a striking contrast in the stance taken by the
leading leftist papers and the leading "rightist" one. Of the former
none made any editorial comment, but all carried at least the first
Untung proclamation. Significantly, however, even the headlines used
for the proclamation reflected some caution on the part of the editors.
For example, the Warta Bhakti headline sticks close to the wording em-
ployed by Untung himself and places above the headline in dark letters
the source of the story:	"RRI Djakarta Announces:". For an indication
of the contents of Warta Bhakti (Afternoon Edition), Kebudajaan Baru,
Ekonomi Nasional and Gelora Indonesia, see the Army attack on these four
PKI-leaning papers in Berita Yudha for October 4, 5, 6. Alleged photo-
stats of portions of these four papers are given. Also consult the
respective editions of these papers which, however, do not deviate from
the Berita Yudha photostats for the two papers the authors have been
able to check, i.e. Warta Bhakti and Kebudajaan Baru.
The only "rightist" paper thus far available to the authors is the
well-known Sinar Harapan controlled by the Indonesian Protestant Party.
Unlike the leftist papers mentioned above, it does not carry any of the
statements of Untung, nor the statement of support for Untung issued by
Omar Dhani at 9:30 a.m. Rather it gives front page headlines to the
brief statement by the Commander of the President's personal bodyguard
at 12:00 p.m. that the President continued to hold the leadership of
the state. See Sinar Harapan, October 1. For a full discussion of the
positions taken by all the major Djakarta papers on October 1 afternoon
and October 2 morning, see the Appendix.
(87)	For the text of the controversial Harian Rakjat editorial of October 2
and a discussion of its significance, see the Appendix.77
(88)	Reportedly Karim helped to stimulate such jubilation among the openly
pro-Communist editors of Antara — a jubilation which was abruptly
undercut by the 8:45 p.m. broadcast of General Suharto* See account of
the mood in the Antara office in BY, October 27. Concerning Karim's
activities, see Karya Bhakti, October 12 and Apt, October 11.
(89) For an extended discussion of the PNI position on October 1 and 2, see
the section of the Appendix dealing with the Harian Rakjat.
(90)	The statement of the RPKAD (Army Paratroop Regiment) gives this as the
time that RRI Djakarta went off the air. See BY, October 11. Also see
Suharto speech, October 15 for an explanation as to why he elected not
to seize control of RRI until the evening.
(91)	Umar's order to control all news media was issued at 6:00 p.m. on
October 1, but was not broadcast over RRI that night with the other
announcements of the Suharto forces. See BY, October 2. If it was im-
plemented immediately early on the evening of the first, it appears to
have been done so selectively. Only the PKl's Harian Rakjat, the PNl's
Suluh Indonesia and the heavily leftist Antara news bulletin appeared
on the morning of the 2nd. Other papers, except for the specially
exempted Army-sponsored Angkatan Bersendjata and Berita Yudha, were
spared the burden of exposing to the public view their initial reactions
to the Untung affair. For further discussion of the party press re-
action, see the Appendix section dealing with the Harian Rakjat
editorial.
(92)	’There are conflicting accounts of the time for the announcement of the
Solo Revolution Council. Api Pantjasila of October 14 gives 6:00 p.m.
while Minggu Pagl of November 21 gives 10:00 p.m.
(93)	Presumably they still did not know that General Suryosumpeno, Commander
of the Diponegoro Division, had escaped the net. See below for a dis-
cussion of events in Central Java on October 1.
(94)	See Soekarno interview with Antara editor Nahar on October 14, published
in Sinar Harapan, October 14 and BY, October 15.
(95)	BY, October 16.
(96)	See the Suharto speech, October 15.
(97)	See statement of RPKAD Commander Colonel Sarwo Edhie in BY, November 26.
Sarwo Edhie had been RPKAD Commander since January 12, 1965 and was an
intimate of General Yani.
(98)	See Suharto speech on RRI on the night of October 1 carried in BY, October
2.
(99)	See the Army Information Center press release carried in BY, October 2.
(100)	For two quite different descriptions of how Brig. Gen. Suryosumpeno
managed to escape, see BY, October 22 and October 29.78
(101)	Magelang is approximately 1% hour drive from Semarang. For reference
to Suryosumpeno meeting Lt. Col* Hussain, see Antara, October 25.
(102)	BY, October 21.
(103)	Information on developments in Salatiga was obtained from private
sources.
(104) BY, October 14 is the main source of events in Jogjakarta. Also see
AB, October 24; Api Pantjasila. October 13; Antara, November 23; Kompas,
October 15.
(105)	For biographical information on Muljono, see BY, October 14. The
Jogjakarta daily Nasional reports that on December 9, 1963 Muljono was
transferred from his post as Chief of Staff of the Bojolali Military
District 0724 to his post at the time of the coup as Chief of Section
V on the Staff of the 72nd Military Resort. For data on Col. Katamso,
see Nasional, December 17, 1963. This article was occasioned by
Katamso*s installation on December 13, 1963 to the position he held at
the time of the coup as Commander of the 72nd Military Resort in
Jogjakarta.
(106)	One suspects, therefore, that Muljono was reacting more to news from
Djakarta than from Semarang, and possibly did not yet know that Semarang
was in Suherman's hands.
(107)	This is inferred from the strong denial issued by the Central Police
Headquarters on October 8 in Berita Yudha despite the fact that there
had been no public accusations to this effect.
(108)	The main source of information on events in Solo is the account in BY,
October 12. Also see AB, October 25; Antara, October 25. For an
account of Aidit's activities in the Solo area, see the discussion below.
(109)	The Diponegoro Division has three Infantry Brigades numbered 4-6. The
headquarters of the 6th is located in Solo. Lieutenant Colonel Ezy
Suharto was transferred from Command of the Kudus Military District 0722
to the Command of the Solo Military District 0735 in August, 1965. (See
Nasional,	)•
According to the Jogjakarta weekly, Minggu Pagi of November 21,
Iskandar (here referred to as Colonel Iskandar) was actually stationed
in Medan, and was "on leave" in Solo. It is also implied that Ashari
was in on the plot to take over Solo.
According to Panjebar Semangat (Surabaja) (Javanese language) of
December 15, p. 7 the announcement that the city was in the hands of a
so-called Dewan Revolusi was made by Lt. Col. Iskandar. Furthermore, a
joint statement of support for the Dewan Revolusi was made by Colonel
Ashari, Commander of Solo Garrison and Infantry Brigade VI, and the
Mayor Utorao Ramelan in the name of the National Front.
(110)	The report in Minggu Pagi. November 21, says that the announcement was
not made until 10:00 p.m. and that it was read by an unnamed Second
Lieutenant from the local Army information staff. The report indicates79
that the Radio Station was taken over and guarded by troops from
Battalion C within the 6th Infantry Brigade*
(111)	The text of Ramelan's statement can be found in
(112)	It is also reported that an abortive coup was attempted against the
Commander of the 71st Military Resort (Banjumas-Pekalongan), Colonel
Tjiptono Setiaboedhie, in his headquarters at Purwokerto* The coup
attempt was made by a certain Major Tukaeni, the Commander of the
Tegal Military District. See Puta Revolusi, November 29.
(113)	See the statement signed by General Suharto and announced by the Array
Information Center over RRI at about 10:00 p.m., October 1. See BY.
October 2.
(114)	See the radiogram sent by General Suharto and broadcast over RRI
shortly after 10:00 p.m. on October 1. See BY, October 2.
(115)	See the Suharto speech, October 15. Also see the account by the
Commander of the RPKAD given in BY of November 26.
(116)	One suspects that Sri Muljono was sent back because Subandrio and the
others were still too nervous to wish to plunge into a bewildering
crisis situation in Djakarta.
(117)	For reference to Aidit's being aboard and to the use of "Hercules"
planes, see Duta Revolusi, October 9. This strongly Islamic paper says
that Aidit had been "kidnapped" and taken to Halim where he was "flown"
to Central Java. See also the confession of Lukman's chauffeur cited
in Surabaja Post, November 8.	"K", one of Aidit's bodyguard, tells the
chauffeur that Aidit left Halim at 12:00 p.m.
(118)	This is the time given in the editorial of the authoritative Jogjakarta
newspaper Kedaulatan Rakjat of November 9. Earlier accounts also have
Aidit arriving at about this time and in the company of Omar Dhani.
It should be recognized that Dhani's presence would have greatly ex-
pedited Aidit's mission through his ability to win quick cooperation
from Air Base Commanders. See Suharto speech, October 15; Api Pantjasila,
October 14; Mertju Suar, October 22; Antara, November 23>A; Asahi
(Japanese Tokyo daily), November 29; and AB, October 15.
One account gives 5:00 a.m. as the time of Aidit's arrival and fails
to mention Dhani at all. The source has, however, an obvious interest
in protecting the reputation of Dhani and the Air Force generally. See
statement of Commodore S. Dono Indarto, Commander of the 7th Air Command
(Central Java). See BY, November 30.
The fact of Dhani"1"^ presence in Central Java on October 2 is best
established by the fact that Dhani issues a statement on October 2 which
is printed only in Jogjakarta. See Kedaulatan Rakjat, October 4. Later
in the afternoon of October 2 Dhani apparently flys back to Djakarta in
time to attend a late afternoon Koti meeting at the Presidential Palace
in Bogor. For his late arrival at that meeting, see Suharto speech,
October 15.80
(119)	Api Pant.1asi.la> October 14.
(120)	Much of the following account is informed by the printed confession of
Lukman's chauffeur. See Surabaja Post. November 8.
(121)	The Governor of Central Java, Mochtar, was on a visit to the People's
Republic of China at the time of the Untung affair. He does not re-
assume the Governorship of Central Java until October 28. See RR1 broad*
cast of November 1 for evidence of his return.
(122)	Again the confession of Lukman's chauffeur is the prime source. See
Surabaja Post, November 8.
(123)	Perhaps the house referred to is that of Goeshai, a director of the
Badja Karja Company, on Djalan Hajam Wuruk 118. Although the source
for this information seems highly inaccurate with regard to times,
details such as this are often consistent with other accounts. See
Mertju Suar, October 21.
(124)	During the whole period in which Lukman and Aidit are alleged to have
been in Semarang there is no hint in the confession of Lukman's driver
of any link between the Communist leaders and Colonel Suherman who
successfully seized military control of the city from Suryosumpeno
early on the morning of the first and held it until about 5:00 a.m.
of October 2. See Surabaja Post. November 8.
(125)	See Surabaja Post, November 8 and the confession of Sujono Atmo in BY,
December 3. Another account pictures Aidit returning to Jogjakarta
after his trip to Semarang. See Api Pantjasila, October 14.
(126)	For Lt. Col. Sujoto's "counter" to Lukman's chauffeur's story of
Aidit, see Patriot, November 24.
(127)	Despite his conscious concern with minimizing his cooperation with the
alleged Communist authors of the Untung conspiracy, Sujoto does acknow-
ledge that on the night of October 2 he was willing to grant Aidit's
request to try to arrange for the dispatch of Aidit's letter to the
President. Then the following morning — perhaps influenced by the
first broadcast of the President over RRI at about 1:30 a.m. on the 3rd
-- Sujoto appears to have decided it would be best for him not to
associate further with Aidit. In any case, it is highly probable that
such a consideration determined his decision to return the letter to
Aidit on the morning of the 3rd rather than the lame excuse given in
his statement. See Patriot, November 24.
(128)	A further indication of the delicate position in which Sujoto found
himself on October 3 is the statement he issued on that day. Echoing
statements of the previous day by Omar Dhani and the Central Java Air
Force Commander, Sujoto joined them in standing firmly behind the
President. See Kedaulatan Rakjat, October 12.
(129)	RRI broadcast, October 4. Also see BY, October 5.31
(130)	The account of Lutetian's return trip to Djakarta is found in his
chauffeur's confession in Surabaja Post, November 8. For a report of
Lukman's presence at the October 6 Cabinet Meeting in Bogor, see
Washington Post, October 10.
(131)	It seems likely that the deliberations involving Aidit, Lutetian,
Sakirman, Ramelan and Sujono Atmo during the period October 1-October 4
produced the first official PKI Central Committee statement on the
Untung affair. This statement was issued on October 5. At the same
time the similar statement of the Central Committee for Central Java
was undoubtedly prepared. See Appendix for the text of both statements.
It is noteworthy that Rewang, a Central Java FKI leader, may also have
been in on these consultations. At least there is one report that he
was with Aidit. See Mertju Suar. October 21.
(132)	Patriot, November 24.
(133)	The two most prominent accounts of Aidit's probable death have appeared
only in papers outside of Indonesia. The Asahi (Japanese Tokyo daily)
of November 29 gives October 22 as the date of Aidit's death, while the
subsequent London Observer version printed in the Washington Post of
December 19 gives November 22. The case for October 22 as the date of
Aidit's death seems strengthened by the marked increase in tensions in
Central Java at that time. For it is just on October 22 that the RPKAD
arrives in Central Java in strength. Accordingly from that moment on
the "rightist" groups led by fanatic Moslem youth feel it is safe to
strike out at the Communists in the area. Moreover, the Army would
certainly do its best to eliminate Aidit at this juncture for fear that
he might become a rallying point for the hard-pressed Communists who up
to the arrival of the RPKAD had refrained from any major provocative
actions. Also see below pp. 60-64.
(134)	Suharto speech to National Front representatives on October 15 states
that the two planes leaving Halim sometime on the night of the first
went to Jogjakarta and then on to Maospati. Api Pantjasila of October
14 confirms this sequence of stops for Dhani. Also see the October 3
statement of the Central Java Air Force Commander in BY, November 30.
(135)	Suharto speech, October 15.
(136)	Suharto speech of October 15; RPKAD statement in BY, October 11; and
Dhani statement of October 2 in Kedaulatan Rakjat, October 4.
(137)	BY, October 14.
(138)	The following account is based primarily on the Suharto speech of October
15.
(139)	It is possible that Wattimena had been ordered to bring Dhani back from
Central Java or at least from Halim.
(140) The text of this order was broadcast over RRI at 1:33 a.m. on October 3
and subsequently published in Berita Yudha of October 4.82
(141)	The President's statement on AURI involvement was broadcast at 11:50 p.m.
October 3, while Suharto's conflicting statement was broadcast on the
evening of October 4. The texts of both statements are in BY, October 5.
(142)	Suharto speech of October 15*
(143)	BY, October 5.
(144)	BY, October 4* Although the editorial refrained from mention of the
PK1, this issue carried photostats of the editorial in Harian Rakjat of
October 2 together with selected items from other papers of the far
left. These photostats were offered as the Army's first "proof" of PKI
involvement.
(145)	It is interesting that in Suharto's "off the record" October 15 speech
the PKI is not mentioned. See also BY, October 25.
(146) It was essential to do this since an honest discussion of what had
happened would have exposed too much of the tension inside the Army
and revealed the "unpopularity" of the senior officers.
(147)	Tliis account is based on information obtained from private sources. It
is indirectly confirmed by BY, October 24.
(148)	Commanded by a Major Utomo Battalion C was under the jurisdiction of
Colonel Katamso, the Ccmmander of Military Resort 72. Perhaps it is
significant that this Battalion had just been constituted on the pre-
vious August 14. Battalion L was part of the 6th Infantry Brigade
commanded by Lt. Col. Ashari. See BY, October 5 and Kedaulatan Rakjat,
October 5.
As for the time that these two battalions returned to the Divisional
Command, one Jogjakarta newspaper says the announcement of their return
was only made at 12:30 a.m. October 4 in Jogjakarta. If this is the
case, October 2 would be too early. See Nasional, October 5.
(149)	Kompas, October 15. There is an untranslatable pun in this phrase.
"Untung" means luck in Indonesian so that the phrase as a whole means
"a luck that brings bad luck".
(150)	Kedaulatan Rakjat, October 20.
(151)	Reports of these demonstrations appear in BY, October 14; Kompas, October
15; and Api Pantjasila, October 13 which places the time of the demon-
strations at 4:00 p.m. on the afternoon of the 2nd.
(152)	This would not be the first time that the PKI Central Committee has
proved unable to restrain its militant youth organizations from resort-
ing to violent actions in tense circumstances. The most notable example
is the role of the Communist Youth Organization (Pesindo) in helping to
trigger the Madiun Affair of September 1948. See Kahin, George McT.,
Nationalism and Revolution in Indonesia (Ithaca, N.Y.:	Cornell Univer-
sity Press, 1952), pp. 256-303. More recently, in May 1963, Communist
youth again defied the wishes of the Party leadership by participating
in the violent anti-Chinese riots that erupted at that time in West Java.83
(153)	The main account of the fate of Katamso and Sugijono appears in BY,
October 14 and 22.
(154)	See Minggu Pagi. December 12, p, 20 for Katamso's earlier history.
(155)	Kedaulatan Rakjat, October 21. Also see BY, October 14 and 22.
(156)	See Mekar Sari (Jogjakarta) (Javanese language), November 1-10, 1965,
p. 19. Major Kartawi is among the 13 Army officers who have been
dishonorably discharged because of involvement in the coup attempts.
See AB, December 11.
(157)	BY, October 14 gives October 3 for this action. Api, October 25 gives
October 5 and says FKI building was burned. Kompas, October 15 says
all was quiet on October 3. In any case, these are the first instances
of mob action against PK1 property following the events of October 1.
(158)	Again use is made of private sources.
(159)	See Minggu Pagi (Jogjakarta), November 21, p. 9.
(160)	BY, October 12 and AB, October 25.
(161)	See above for the chronology of Aidit's and Raroelan's movements.
(162)	Mekar Sari, November 1-10, p. 19.
(163)	Neither of these statements appeared in the Djakarta press. They do
appear, however, in several Central Java newspapers. See Gema Massa,
October 9; Kedaulatan Rakjat, October 9; Waspada (Javanese language),
October 6. Kedaulatan Rakjat of October 9 also carries a similar
statement issued by the central headquarters of Baperki. This state-
ment did not appear in any Djakarta papers. Incidentally, this same
issue of Kedaulatan Rakjat reports that 44 mass organizations and parties
in Djakarta have demanded the dissolution of the FKI. Kedaulatan
Rakjat of October 13 carries the statement of the Partindo Central
Board to the same effect. It reinforces a statement of October 4 un-
published in Djakarta by rejecting slanders against the party, standing
fully behind Soekarno, and asking for national unity based on Nasakom.
(164)	For the Sujono Atmo order, see Gema Massa, October 9.
(165)	Gema Massa was banned by Suryosumpeno on October 11. See Kedaulatan
Rakjat, October 14.
(166)	For the Sujono Atmo order, see Gema Massa, October 9 and for the
Suryosumpeno statement, see Kedaulatan Rakjat, October 5. See also the
remarkable speech given by Colonel Widodo (temporary replacement for
Colonel Katamso as Commander of the 72nd Military Resport in Jogjakarta).
This speech not only fails to mention the PKI, but refers frequently to
the importance of maintaining Nasakom. See Kedaulatan Rakjat, October
8. Other similar indications of the delicate balance of political
forces in Central Java at this time are the statement of the Jogjakarta84
National Front in Kedaulatan Rakjat of October 6 and the report that
an all-party delegation — including the PKI — left for Djakarta
from Jogjakarta as late as October 10. See Kedaulatan Rakjat. October
11.
(167)	BY, October 12 and October 13.
(168)	For a full account of the end of the "Semarang group", see BY, December
18. Usman was actually killed on December 8, while Suherman and
Marjono eluded death till December 14.
(169)	BY, December 3.
(170)	BY, October 5.
(171)	RRI Broadcast, October 5, reported in BY, October 6.
(172)	See, for example, BY, October 5. The hysteria was heightened by a
story given wide publicity in the Djakarta press -- namely that Col.
Katamso's wife and seven children had all been horribly murdered by.the
rebels. See, e.g. BY, October 6 and 7. This story was in fact com-
pletely untrue, and exposed as such in HI, October 7, which reported
not only that the seven children were safe and sound in Jogjakarta, but
that Mrs. Katamso had been all along in Bandung, where she had been in
touch at least as early as October 5 with the Commander of the Siliwangi
Division, Maj. Gen. Adjie, who had urged her not to return to Jogjakarta
for the time being. This story indicates clearly that the Army knew
the real truth when it printed its horror story on October 6 and 7.
(173)	See BY, October 8.
(174)	See the editorial in Harlan Harapan (Medan), October 5. The same issue
contains the statement issued officially by the North Sumatra PKI and
a special press Interview given by Djalaludin Nasution himself.
(175)	The Statement of the Central Java PKI can be found in Gema Massa
(Semarang), October 9th. The Central Java PKI had evidently already
issued on October 1 an "Instruction" to all cadres, explicitly stating
that the September 30th Affair was purely an internal Army matter, in
which the PKI did not interfere. This "Instruction" is referred to
repeatedly in the Jogjakarta PKI's statement dated October 5th and con-
tained in Waspada (Jogjakarta, Javanese language), October 6. Inci-
dentally this Jogjakarta PKI statement complains at some length about
H.M.I. (Moslem Student) intimidation and violence on October 4 against
PKI buildings and property. The Solo PKI statement, dated October 7,
is included in Waspada, October 14. The same issue reports a large
Gerwani delegation being received in Solo by the local authorities
(including the garrison commander) on October 8. The women came to
deny accusations made in the Djakarta press, and were evidently at
least politely received. The Klaten PKI statement, wired to President
Soekarno on October 10, is Included in the same issue of Waspada.
(176)	RRI Semaranej as reported in BY, October 18, and Waspada, October 19.85
(177) For details on the arrest of Muljono, see BY, October 22.
(178) See BY, October 22, for an account of the parade, and BY, October 20
and 22, for a description of the finding of the (allegedly) mutilated
corpses.
(179) This order was announced over RRI Djakarta on October 20th. At the
same time Col. Widodo closed down the lertxst Respublica University in
Jogjakarta.
(180)	The ban on Gema Massa took effect on October 11, see Waspada, October
14. According to Antara, October 26, the ban on Waspada was issued on
October 22, the day of the official heroes' funeral given to Katamso
and Sugijono. Koropas, October 25, gives the date of the ban coming
into effect as October 23.
(181)	These mob attacks are reported in BY, October 22.
(182)	See BY, October 25. The General also froze all activities of Baperki.
(183)	See, for example, the instructions issued by Acting Governor of Central
Java, Sujono Atmo, to all civilian government officials, contained in
Waspada of October 16; and the pathetic article in Waspada. October 18,
entitled "Katahanan Panguripan Haslarakat Surakarta tetep kala adat
saben," saying that the situation in Solo is quite normal, not one drop
of blood has been shed, there has been and is no rebellion of any kind,
and that published reports to the contrary are lies deliberately put
out to incite hostilities and divide the nation.
(184)	See BY, October 23, for the Semarang strike; Mekar Sari (Javanese
language weekly), November 1-10, p. 19, for the Solo strike.
(185)	See BY, October 27.
(186) See BY, October 26 and 27. The October 26 issue reports that Ramelan
was arrested at 9:00 a.m. on the 22nd. The October 27th issue gives
the date as October 23. BY, October 25, stresses that the RPKAD took
Solo without a shot being fired. For a graphic, but not wholly accurate
account of the arrival of the RPKAD in Solo, and the reactions it
caused, see Minggu Pagi. November 28, pp. 3f. The riot actions are
recorded in BY, October 26.
(187)	See e.g. Antara (English language), October 30. Also BY, October 26,
27, 28.
(188)	See BY, October 28.
(189)	Tacitus described a not too dissimilar situation in the famous phrase:
"ubi solitudinem faciunt, pacem appellant."
(190)	See New York Times, January 16, 1966, citing a Presidential speech of
January 15. Compare the story given in the Washington Post. January 2,
citing Nicholas Carroll in the (London) Sunday Times. For a summary of
various estimates, see Washington Post, January 14.Note on Relevant Analysis by E, Gibbon
(See footnote 46 above*)
The accounts of the atrocities committed at Halim have undergone con*
siderable elaboration, in which the strongest emphasis has been on unholy
rites and sexual orgies preliminary to the slayings:	thus the Gerwanl were
accused of giving themselves indiscriminately to Air Force officers (Antara
news bulletin, English-language edition, November 30, 1965, B) and to
Pemuda Rakjat in a ritual orgy presided over by Aidit, the principal feature
of which was a "Dance.of the Fragrant Flowers" performed by, naked Gerwani
girls. (Angkatan Bersendjata, December 13, 1965). The human imagination
being lurid but limited, we find	similar goings-on ascribed to another
"society of atheists, who, by the most daring attack on the religious con-
stitution of the empire, had merited the severest animadversion of the civil
magistrate"®)—whose sacrifices differed chiefly in the substitution of
innocent babes for innocent generals:
Their mistaken prudence ftn keeping their rituals secret? afforded an
opportunity for malice to invent, and for suspicious credulity to
believe, the horrid tales which described the Christians as the most
wicked of human kind, who practi ,ed in their dark recesses every
abomination that a depraved fancy could suggest, and who solicited
the favour of their unknown God by the sacrifice of every moral vir-
tue. There were many who pretended to confess or to relate the
ceremonies of this abhorred society. It was asserted, 'that a new-
born infant, entirely covered over with flour, was presented, like
some mystic symbol of initiation, to the knife of the proselyte, who
unknowingly inflicted many a secret and mortal wound on the innocent
victim of his error; that, as soon as the cruel deed was perpetrated,
the sectaries drank up the blood, greedily tore asunder the quivering
members, and pledged themselves to eternal secrecy, by a mutual con-
sciousness of guilt.* It was as confidently affirmed that this in-
human sacrifice was succeeded by a suitable entertainment, in which
intemperance served as a provocative to brutal lust; till, at the ap-
pointed moment, the lights were suddenly-extinguished, shame was
banished, nature forgotten; and, as accident might direct, the dark-
ness of the night was polluted by the incestuous commerce of sisters
and brothers, of sons and of mothers.®)
To such accusations the Church of Justin Martyr hopefully replied:
"The Christians, with the intrepid security of innocence, appeal from the
voice of rumor to the equity of the magistrates."0) This optimism proved
unfounded (it was the reign of Nero). The persecutors were moreover esca-
lated under Diocletian, when it was asserted that their community had
flourished all too well under previous tolerance and now, "constituted a
distinct republic, which might yet be suppressed before it had acquired any
military force; but which was already governed by its own laws and magis-
trates, was possessed of a public treasure, and was intimately connected
in all its parts by the frequent assemblies of the bishops, to whose decrees
their numerous and opulent congregations yielded an implicit obedience."^)
Not long after, however, began the rule of Constantine the Great.
For above quotations, see Edward Gibbon, The Triumph of Christendom in the
Roman Empire, vol. II of the History of the Decline and Fall of the
Roman Empire, New York, 1958 — a) p. 81, b) p. 8$, c) p. 85, d) p. 129,
86PART II
Alternative PossibilitiesALTERNATIVE POSSIBILITIES
The PKI, Acting Independently to Seize Power
"If it concerns bad people, one's attitude should be
realistic...."—Nagarakrtagama(51, IV, 3)
The interpretation of the September 30th Movement cur-
rently put forward by the Indonesian army and its allies is that
it was masterminded by the PKI (in some less official versions
enjoying currency among the elite, Subandrio is pictured as
having begun or cooperated in the effort). The aim was a coup
which would bring the Communists to power, either directly or—
in some versions, apparently to account for the membership of
the Revolutionary Council—via a puppet regime which would later
give way to overt PKI control. Why the Communists would under-
take this is not easy to explain, for the PKI had been doing
very well by the peaceful road, seemed increasingly to be Sukarno's
darling, and had just won a series of notable victories against
its political opponents. To undertake violence would have in-
volved pitting itself against a vastly superior military force
and might have thrown the President into alliance with the army,
a combination of the symbol and might of the nation which the
PKI had always shown itself aware would be fatal to Communist
hopes. So far we have been presented only three motivations
for such an unexpected departure from what seemed increasingly
to.be a recipe of success. Let us consider them one by one.
The first explanation, proffered especially in the early
post-coup weeks, is that the party had information that Sukarno
was about to die, and that, fearing a military move against the
PKI immediately following his death, it decided to seize control
before the fatal hour. It is unlikely, however, that the party
would move on such a consideration before it had sure knowledge
the President was actually dying, for acting too soon on the
belief that Sukarno was not going to last long has been fatal
to many another political group in Indonesia, most dramatically
that associated with the BPS the year before. Moreover, if
Sukarno did not die promptly enough following the PKI's move
there would be the dreaded possibility of a Sukarno-army com-
bination against the Communists. So the Communists would not
be likely to move—assuming they felt they stood to gain by ini-
tiating an escalation into violent confrontation with the army—
until the President was in extremis. But as we shall see the
only strategic calculations which made the coup group's activi-
ties feasible or sensible had as their central requirement the
active and continuing participation of Sukarno. Moreover, the
President has not died', nor are there signs he was suffering a
collapse (other than political) in the immediate postcoup period;
instead, he has since withstood a period of tension and turmoil
that would probably have felled a lesser governmental ox. The
Presidential Illness, rather like the CIA, is a catchall source
8990
of political trouble in Indonesia# and is used by both sides?
thus Untung charged the generals with having schemed regarding
Sukarno's health# and after the coup the PKI was accused, among
other things# of serving the CIA. Both the kidneystones and
the CIA undoubtedly exist, but as motivating factors in Indo-
nesian political crises they should be regarded with consider-
able caution.
A second suggested reason for PKI initiation of a coup
is encouragement, pressure# or orders from the CPR. Various
reports were made in the initial post-coup period of Chinese
smuggling crates of guns in among the materials for the Conefo
building# Chinese doctors warning the PKI that Sukarno was about
to die# Chinese poisoning Premier Djuanda with a bottle of wine,
and so on. (1) The motive given for CPR sponsorship of a coup—
other than the devil nature of Communism and/or the Chinese—is
that Peking# having no faith in the PKI's gradualist tactics
and finding the Sukarno regime insufficiently palatable ideo-
logically, wished to place the Indonesian Communists in a posi-
tion where they would have to follow a course of armed struggle.
Therefore it persuaded the Aidit leadership that a coup was
necessary: or forced Aidit's hand by placing the party in a com-
promising position through gun shipments or whatever: or en-
couraged dissident lower rank party members to take action with-
out Aidit's consent: or perhaps it simply ordered the party to
act. We shall not consider here whether the CPR was in a posi-
tion to dictate to the PKI or any part of it; let us assume for
the sake of the argument that it could# and ask instead whether
it would really have been in China's interest to foment a coup.
It is indeed true that the PKI# in spite of its radically
anti-imperialist stand in foreign affairs, was anything but
intransigent domestically. From the beginning of Aidit's tenure
it had rejected the Chinese model of violent agrarian revolution
as impractical in Indonesian conditions, and it had given no
real sign since that it had changed its views on the subject. As
the world's third largest Communist party, and the only one out
of power that seemed to have a chance of winning over a major
country in the visible future# the Indonesian example would bear
considerable ideological weight. Was the possibility of a
peaceful assumption of power so distasteful to the Chinese that
they would sacrifice the PKI to prove the impossibility of the
peaceful road? Or conversely# could the Chinese have been so
dubious of the prospects of the PKI's strategy as to force the
party to go over to violence, on the assumption that the parallel
between the Indonesian situation in the 1960's and the Chinese
of the 1920's was so close that a Shanghai coup would be inevit-
able if the PKI clung to its "bloc within" NASAKOM line? Would
Chinese concern for this have been sufficient to overcome the
risks involved in an attempt to take power by force and, should
the initial stroke miss, the sacrifice of immediate advantage
entailed by a long period of Communist reduction to guerrilla
status? In weighing these possibilities, one must consider the91
costs for the Chinese entailed by a failed coup and a gross re-
duction in the PKI's public position/ both as regards interna-
tional relations and the Sino-Soviet dispute.
In the first place/ although the PKI showed some hope
of coming to power peacefully/ this was not what the party sym-
bolized or supported in the Sino-Soviet debate. Though attempt-
ing to play a mediatory role insofar as possible, the PKI was
clearly on the Chinese side in the quarrel, protesting Soviet
"neo-capitalist" inclinations, moderacy in relations with the
"imperialists," attempts to impose Soviet authority on the move-
ment and so on. Relations between the Aidit leadership and the
CPSU leaders were very bad, and little secret was made of this.
There was little likelihood the PKI would change its militant
public stand in the foreseeable future, for it needed the feeling
of revolutionary momentum and sacrifice which was otherwise so
lacking under the conditions of guided democracy. Except when
the Malaysia dispute threatened at times to boil over into a
serious conflict (on which possibility the PKI several times
expressed concern) a "Chinese" stand threatened the party in no
way, provided an escape valve—probably for its leaders and
certainly for its following—and helped bring Indonesia farther
away from the West and thus from the sources of aid for its
opponents.
Given these facts, and the non-liberal nature and
"Chinese" posture of the Sukarno regime, there is little reason
to think the Chinese would have feared a peaceful assumption of
power by the PKI as discrediting their argument against the par-
liamentary road. Rather, it would have strengthened their case
for arguing that the center of world revolution was in the AAA
countries, and would have greatly increased the stature of what
was their chief ally in the international movement. It is very
possible that, once in power, the PKI would have differentiated
itself further from the Chinese and would have asserted its own
claims as a model? moreover, it had already put itself forward
as a pattern for Southeast Asian Communism, and the Chinese
were probably not too happy at the idea of a Communist Indonesia
asserting itself as the light for an area in which the Chinese
doubtless feel their own beam should dominate. Such considera-
tions might influence the Chinese to limit their support to the
PKI. It is not likely, however, that it would encourage them
to throw the baby out with the bathwater.
It is probable, given the CCP leadership's experience
and ideas regarding the road to power, that they thought the PKI
would not make it the Aidit way. Would they therefore have sup-
ported violent elements in the party or otherwise sought to
change its course? Such a choice assumes China had little to
lose internationally if the coup failed. But in fact it had
much to lose, and particularly at this time, for the expansion
of Chinese influence in Africa had peaked and was now in some-
thing of a decline? the Soviet Union was getting increased92
support for participation at the AA conference? support for a
condemnation of the US Vietnam action at the AA conference seemed
increasingly problematical/ and Chinese efforts in the Indo-
Pakistan war seemed to have alarmed the Pakistanis more than it
impressed them. Cambodia being too small to carry much weight,
Indonesia was the major link with non-Communist AA circles,
where it acted effectively as Peking's stalking horse. However
impatient the Chinese may have become with Sukarno, he was
essential in their calculations, and they would hardly have
counselled a move—on the part of the PKI or any other group—
that would have Jeopardized his position and possibly his life
at this delicate Juncture.
In foreign affairs the Chinese have not been risk-takers?
nor have they been inclined to sacrifice promising relations
with a non-Communist power in the interest of promoting a local
revolution with dubious prospects. The "hard" stand taken by
China since the affair has been much exaggerated in press re-
ports. Certainly the CPR has been more outspoken than the
Soviets regarding the post-coup events, but this is less a
function of Chinese promotion of revolution vs Soviet encourage-
ment of the peaceful path than to the fact that the USSR had,
essentially, bet on the horse that won—the army, which it had
been equipping—and the CPR had bet on the ones that lost—
Sukarno and the PKI, which it had been putting in the interna-
tional limelight. However they may feel about the fate of the
Indonesian Communists, the Soviets are not about to toss away a
bet that has just paid off? while the Chinese are well aware of
the army's dislike of the China alliance and can have little
hope that under the new regime anything better than a frigidly
correct relationship can be maintained. In addition there may
be a tendency for the Chinese to compare the denouement of the
Indonesian affair with the Shanghai coup and to assume the ul-
timate impossibility that the PKI will be allowed to revive
legally or that the Indonesian government will return to the
left. Finally, blood is thicker than ideology:	the CPR may
not feel itself in a position to protect the Chinese minority
in Indonesia, but there is little chance its dislike of those
now in power there has been greatly intensified by the unfor-
tunate experiences of the Indonesian Chinese since the coup.
The number and bitterness of the Chinese protests to Indonesia
since the coup do not, therefore, necessarily reflect a Chinese
encouragement of Communist violence before the coup, while the
logic of Chinese interests in international affairs and the
Sino-Soviet dispute would make it unlikely the CPR would have
promoted a Communist revolt.
The third motivation provided for a PKI-sponsored take-
over is not an analytical but a mythological one. This is the
image of Communism as a monstrous and irrational conspiracy,
infinitely cunning but driven by an overweening ambition and a
congenital need to express itself in violence. For years, in
this view, the PKI denied its innate thirst for power and blood,9J
cloaked its alien and unnatural shape beneath a guise of peace
and patriotism, practiced a monstrous deception which very nearly
succeeded, save that at the last moment the nation was preserved
—praise God but at what a terrible costj—by the inability of
the Enemy to stay his appetite for death.
This argument, or rather vision, is the main one that
has thus far been presented, particularly as it became generally
apparent that the Presidential Kidney was in no worse state
than usual, as a temporary approach, it had the advantage of
avoiding the need to provide a well-ordered explanation until
one could be (though it apparently has not yet been) decided on?
it drew attention away from alternative Great Plot theories,
such as the Generals' Council asserted by Untung. it secured
popular acquiescence and participation in the physical destruc-
tion of the PKI, and placed Sukarno under great pressure to
grant the all-important Presidential denunciation of the PKI.
Moreover, it was emotionally satisfying to a people in a state
of shock. A monstrous event requires a monstrous cause? in
the wake of the Kennedy assassination it was most difficult to
satisfy people that an insignificant person had done it all, in
spite of the U.S. government's best efforts to implant this
interpretation. And in the Indonesian case it was politically
necessary not to persuade people that there had been no monstrous
plot, but the reverses For what if the army allowed the affair
to be treated as an internal military matter, the interpretation
favored by the President and the PKI and the one we think is
essentially the truth? Even if its rivals took no advantage of
this (which is most unlikely), the admission as such would have
been so demoralizing to the army internally and so ruinous to
its public image that the balance of power would have shifted
sharply away from the military's side. If military unity was
to be restored following the coup, it could best be done through
creating solidarity in a greater cause and through purges con-
ducted under cover of larger events. If public attention was
to be directed away from army fissures and from the counter-devil
of the Generals' Council, then responsibility must be assigned
somewhere else, namely—since the President is too sacrosanct
to be directly charged—on the archenemy and major source of
Presidential power, the PKI. The choice for the army was between
a major victory and a stunning blow to its morale and public
position; it was not hard to decide.
The army therefore injected into a shocked and extremely
labile public atmosphere a stream of highly inflammatory pro-
paganda. It appealed to the feelings of a people who had lived
all too long under steadily mounting economic and political
pressure, increasingly expected that the denouement would be
perang saudara, a war of brothers. It appealed to an elite im-
portant segments of which had been turning, though with grave
misgivings, to the thought that the PKI alone had the answers
for Indonesia's problems; to an Islamic community that had felt
increasingly outside and against the national political current.
It appealed to a society suddenly confronted with an act of94
violence which upset the whole order of things, turning the
President from the nail of the universe into a figleaf for mili-
tary rule, and bringing the country to the edge of civil war.
Reflecting and catalyzing a violent reaction to the frustrations
and tensions of the past years, it helped loose pent-up emotions,
hatreds, and fears in a violent catharsis. The result was a
massive psychotic reaction in which all sense of proportion was
lost before the vision of Ultimate Evil incarnate in the PKI, a
response which encouraged and facilitated that large-scale mas-
sacre of Communist rank and file and systematic liquidation of
party leaders which has been so helpful in securing a solution
of the PKI problem. (2)
On a long-term basis the "monster" explanation of PKI
sponsorship for the affair has the advantage of firmly replanting
the image with which the Indonesian Communists had been burdened
since the Madiun Affair and which they had only partly succeeded
in erasing. Whatever questions may later be asked, whatever
counter-arguments produced, people who absorbed the view of the
PKI which is now presented will not be able to think of the
Communists later except as a group stained by atrocity and
treason. (3) The Aidit leadership, having believed that its
chances of success lay in persuading the "middle group"—i.e.,
the not firmly anti-Communist part—of the Indonesian population
to side with it, had placed heavy and increasing stress on shap-
ing a public image of the PKI as not dangerous but desirable—
the incarnation of patriotism, self-sacrifice, constructive
energy, intellectual capability, organizational and managerial
competence, and so on. The party that knew how to do things
and got them done—a comforting dynamism for a people fed too
long on resounding slogans, administrative stagnation, and eco-
nomic despair. Fifteen years of building a public image that
was essential to the Aidit strategy was set at nought in one
day—the inevitable outcome for the PKI of failure in an attempt
to seize power by violence. The stakes were therefore very
high—the party would almost certainly be blamed, the army would
be presented with an opportunity to win an enormous victory by
destroying it, and the chances of coming to power by persuasion
rather than by warfare--which Aidit had rejected from the outset
as not feasible under Indonesian strategic, geographic, and
socio-political conditions—would be reduced very nearly to zero.
The military odds against the success of Untung's move in Dja-
karta on October 1 were about a million to one. Is it likely,
short of sudden madness, that the Communists would have gambled
so much on so distant a chance? But assuming they were so
stricken, would they not have taken the most elementary precau-
tions against failure? Would they neither have tried to keep
PKI sponsorship of the move so secret the party could not be
connected with it should it fail? Or, on the assumption that
if the army could not find a PKI connection it would invent one,
throw all their strength into the effort to prevent its defeat?
They did neither:	some members of Communist mass organizations
were peripherally but very visibly involved, and Harian Rakjatcame out in favor of Untung but without a call for mass support.
Moreover, the journal made public its favor on October 2nd, when
the coup was over, not on the 1st, when it was on, which made
no sense if the party knew of it beforehand; nor did the two
PKI papers of the afternoon of the 1st call for support of the
September 30th Movement, although when they went to press it
was in command. No one came out on the streets of Djakarta,
and there was no visible coordination of activities either in
the city or throughout the nation. It is as if the party tied
a rope around its neck and then waited to be hoisted from the
nearest lamp post.
A Planned Move by the President Against
the Army, With or Without the PKI
"On account of (his) wisdom's paramount power, his crushing
of the villainy of the evildoers may be considered pure...."
—Nagarakrtagama (92, I, 4)
Now if it is not likely the Communists would have acted
as they did had they actually managed the coup effort, and if
they had a part in inspiring the affair, then perhaps they
played a role at one remove—-by persuading the President, direct-
ly or indirectly, to attempt the removal en masse of his and
their military enemies. That is, they sparked the events but
did not control them; the murders and the involvement of Pemuda
Rakjat and Gerwani people were unlucky accidents in what was
intended as a major political maneuver which would not escalate
into violence and would give no evidence of Communist involve-
ment. To decide whether the PKI could or would have attempted
such a move, we must consider first of all what it could have
expected of Sukarno—whether he would have had (or could have
been given) reason to act against the General Staff, and if so
whether he would have been at all likely to move in the manner
suggested by the events of October 1.
To support the possibility of a Presidential initiative
we may hypothesize, for example, as follows:	We know the generals
formed a major obstruction to NASAKOM and thus a principal
threat to civil peace, Sukarno's prime concern, after his death.
We may reason that he had been nibbling away at their power for
years, but without great success, and that as his health declined
and he began to talk openly of a post-Sukarno period he came to
feel that only drastic action could establish a new, more neutral
army command that would keep things in line but not move to the
right after his death. He could not act against one of the key
members of the General.Staff—Nasution and Yani—without the
others coming to that person's rescue; therefore he had to re-
move them all. If they were quickly and quietly removed from
the scene and deposited in jail in Madiun or wherever, on charges
of cooperating with the CIA, people would be too stunned—and
anyway too suspicious given the current atmosphere—to object,96
and the army could be placated with the promotion of Pranoto
and other reasonable but not leftist types. But the generals
must not get wind of this? he dared not trust anyone in the
elite, therefore; and he dared not publicly involve the PKI,
against which the army was all to eager to act. So when Untung
or someone from Untung's group came to him he saw an element
that, not having Menteng connections but having numerous advan-
tageously placed sub-elite contacts, could be conveniently and
secretly used. He told them to take action, with the idea that
the-generals would be arrested and shipped out of the capital;
but murder was done and the PKI implicated, and so Sukarno found
himself hopelessly compromised and the Communists destroyed.
This interpretation assumes a radical departure from
the President's previous methods of dealing with his opponents.
The only people he had hitherto Jailed for political reasons
were ones involved in rebel movements and therefore hopelessly
compromised; politically helpless figures such as Sjahrir cs;
and the expendable Sukarnl. He had never imprisoned anyone who
was not politically finished. At the same time, the jailing of
political leaders, like the banning of political parties, had
come to have an irrevocable air to it:	it was not for a few
months or a few years, but for good. Therefore the imprisonment
of the political members of the General Staff, particularly on
charges of treason, would be understood as an irreversible move.
Their release before Sukarno's death would constitute a great
blow to his prestige and would loose a dangerous (particularly
if innocent) and vengeful group to make trouble among their
former military associates. Furthermore, if he died in the
near future and they were released soon thereafter, they pro-
bably would quickly regain enough influence to act as a highly
disruptive element about which rightist civilian and military
groups could unite, thus raising again the possibility of civil
war.
The hypothesis requires a change in strategy as well
as style. In the past few years both Sukarno and the PKI had
attempted to deal with the army by creating an image of great
strength and popular support, keeping the quarrel on a level
and in terms with which the army is at a disadvantage, and pre-
venting the army from getting any excuse to place things in
military terms, by resumption of the State of Emergency or the
like. They eroded solidarity of the army by the careful foster-
ing of differences within its leadership and by the appointment
of pliable or corruptible commanders wherever possible to replace
those who were anti-PKI or impervious to Presidential interfer-
ence. At the same time efforts were made to increase formal
political influence in the army:	first the formation of KOTI,
next the efforts to get political cadres in the military, the
training of party-connected volunteers, and the Fifth Force
(which last would both have added to the PKI's physical strength
and set a new political tone for the military). The summer of
1965 saw a critical phase:	a major offensive against military97
solidarity and for a PKI military capability had begun. Nasu-
tion had not yet been removed, but the support of the air force,
and apparently of the navy at least in theory, had been achieved
for the Fifth Forcer and training of some volunteers had actually
begun by the air force.
The army knew about this training—which it later ad-
mitted had been a bone of contention between itself and the air
force prior to the coup—and it is doubtful it was entirely con-
fident that in the long run it could keep the PKI from really
acquiring weapons. Nasution was still in office, but his main
political tenet, that the Communists must under no circumstances
have access to arms, seemed to be going by the boards. If the
SUAD was to move at a point where it could face a paper tiger
PKI it must move soon; by the time of Sukarno's death, unless
he died shortly, the generals might face an armed PKI with on
their side a military machine whose unity and will had suffered
fatal erosion. Conversely, it was vital to the interests of
the PKI and Sukarno in this transitional period to prevent the
army from moving, to preserve the army's feeling of helplessness,
to keep it hypnotized and divided. The spell must not be broken?
but it would be by violence—not necessarily death, but some-
thing that would make people kaget, and the arrest of the general
staff would surely do that. Therefore such a step would be
taken only for the most urgent reason, and Sukarno must have
good cause for confidence, for failure would be (and apparently
has been) fatal. The question therefore is? was the situation
so desperate from Sukarno's point of view as to warrant so
drastic an act* and was there sufficient reason to believe the
move would succeed?
Let us consider first whether the situation was desperate
from the President's point of view. There are three possibili-
ties here? 1) He felt he had only a very short time to live and
believed that with its current leadership the army was bound to
crush the Communists as soon as he departed? if this was to be
prevented he must secure another military leadership while he
was still capable of acting. 2) His efforts to change and weaken
the political leadership of the military had been so ineffective
over the last several years that he saw no hope of making signi-
ficant gains by gradual means in the future, while the condition
of his health and the country, and/or the impatience of the PKI
made him feel it necessary that a significant shift in the rela-
tionship between the military and the Communists must take place
within a fairly short time. 3) He believed the generals were
going to move against him.
As regards the first, Sukarno might have been seriously
worried about his health and the succession. However, as we
have already remarked, he held up quite well in spite of the
strains the post-coup events put on him* moreover, unless he
also suffers from some disease with a time limit on it, it would
seem likely the situation would only appear that desperate to himat a time when he was too close to death to he able to act
effectively politically. If he believed, by virtue of what was
said by doctor or dukun, that he was about to die it still
seems unlikely he would attempt a violent move, for it would
obviously take some time for the dust to settle, the new mili-
tary leadership to take hold, and so on. If he were to die
shortly after the overthrow of the old military leaders, it
would be too easy for the right to bring them back amidst cries
that the PKI poisoned him, forged charges of treason against
his true supporters, and so on. Given the fact that the.danger
to the PKI and to a NASAKOM post-Sukarno civil peace lay in
interrupting the smooth flow towards the left, in erasing the
illusion of inevitability regarding Indonesia's political course
the thing Sukarno would have been most interested in regarding
the period surrounding his death would be to prevent the oppor-
tunity for violence and if possible the excuse for the procla-
mation of a State of Emergency. He would have sought to gain
acceptance, as far as possible, for the PKI's right to partici-
pate in the government on equal terms with the other parties,
and to reduce the number of people in positions of power who
would be likely to ally with the army after he left. Any abrupt
and drastic change would not serve this.
As regards the second possibility, its major assumption
—the failure of Sukarno to affect the political leadership of
the military in the past few years—is doubtful. However it
may look now, it appeared in the mid-1963 to September 1965
period that the military's political initiative had been serious
ly eroded, and that it was the army that was being domesticated
along with the PKI. The number of far-right generals in posi-
tions of power had been greatly reduced* Nasution's position
was now less in the political center of the army than on the
political right, and this provided an opening for isolating him.
He still had strong protection from his associates against at-
tempts to remove him, but he was	able—either for reasons of
his own psychological reaction to developments or from a lack
of agreement by his associates on initiatives that he wanted to
take—to make few moves on his own. Those he did sponsor (SOKSI
Manikebu, and probably indirectly BPS) were wholly unsuccessful,
and he lost interest in them even before they had met their re-
spective Waterloos.
More and more top military positions were being deter-
mined by Presidential favor; this meant that the independent
power of the general staff was being seriously undercut. The
effect of this would last to some degree at least beyond the
President's life:	for the more alat negara (non-political,
"instrument of the State") minded officers there were, and the
more people who had cozied up to Sukarno and thus had reason to
feel Nasution's resentment, and the more people who had gotten
into positions Nasution would not have given them, the more
there would be who would resist initiatives by Nasution and his
colleagues in the post-Sukarno period and who might (though99
they need not themselves be leftists) seek support from the
left against a Nasution-anti-Communist combination.
There were possibilities# not yet fully explored, of
creating new bodies and positions of military or civilian-mili-
tary composition, diluting the central authority of the SUAD,
acquiring control over and allocating patronage, and creating
positions that the General Staff would want to see rationalized
out of existence and whose occupants would therefore hesitate
to back the General Staff. Considerable progress seemed to have
been made at exploiting inter-service rivalries. Martadinata,
though considered hitherto a supporter of Nasution, made a pil-
grimage to PKI headquarters, the first time a service head did
so. This set a very significant precedent for not Just Sukarno
but the PKI itself offering support within the military estab-
lishment? and to the extent that individuals or groups within
the military availed themselves of this they alienated themselves
from Nasution cs. and acquired a vested interest in not turning
against the PKI in a post-coup era.
Both the navy and air force lacked sufficient ground
support to give them an equal voice with the army? but they saw
the possibility of getting that support or at least of reducing
the army's own claims on this point, and of basking in the sun
of Presidential favor by declaring their approval of the Fifth
Force. Indeed, the Air Force had already begun to train people?
granted only a few, but it was the first breach in the dike of
Nasution's anti-PKI policy. The PKI was placing great—and
very public—stress on getting military potential? how long
would it be until the trickle became a flood? How many generals,
given the drift of the situation, would not soon begin to put
out feelers to the left, and how many would not then be maneuvered
into a position where they were sufficiently beholden to the
left so that they depended on it to keep office? Few were or
could have become leftists? hardly anyone in the military would
conceivably want political cadres imposed on them? but how many
had begun to think about becoming the TNI for the PKI and were
contemplating making the necessary adjustments and concessions
in return for the recognition of their interests?
Perhaps, however, the condition of the country or the
mood of the PKI was such that Sukarno felt it necessary not to
wait for the gradual completion of this process. This assumes
that popular discontent was high and threatened the President's
position? or (if the initiative came from the PKI) that the
party felt people were turning against it—or its rank and file
was becoming rebellious—because of its complaisant attitude
towards economic and political morass. Logically, this might
seem a reasonable popular reaction given the condition of the
nation. But in fact it was not so:	not Sukarno, but corrupt
and evil advisers that surrounded him were blamed for the suf-
fering of the people? he—like the Tsar in Russian tradition—
was thought popularly to desire only good for his people, who100
looked the more to him for succor the worse their plight became.
For, in spite of the PKI's best efforts in inculcating self-
confidence in the Rakjat, their overwhelming attitude was that
salvation must come from above and not from below. This ex-
tended well into the party itself? middle-level and upper-
middle-level cadres talked to in early 1965 evidenced an extreme
psychological dependence on Sukarno as protector and as an
essential element in the PKI's further progress. Moreover,
the PKI had itself managed to remain remarkably free of the
onus of identification with the unsavory aspects of the regime.
It was popularly identified with Sukarno, not with the wicked
corruptors with which, alas, the good monarch was forced to
deal? and it had in fact managed to maintain a degree of honesty
and initiative that was in striking contrast to the general
stagnation. Furthermore, it was advancing very rapidly in the
public eye during 1965, so that it does not seem likely there
was great pressure from within its ranks for rebellion—indeed,
the absence of Communist response to the coup, even when under
threat of annihilation, shows how little inclination for a real
fight there was in the party and its following.
The PKI seems to have suffered from hubris in dealing
with some of the sensitive issues it had tackled—land reform,
corruption, military training—to the extent that it did not
always seem to realize the extent of the reaction which they
could provoke or the pitfalls into which they might lead. It
does not seem to have considered, for example, that by intro-
ducing itself into armed service it might find itself used as a
pawn in a military power play. Rather, it seems to have sacri-
ficed control over its volunteers in the interest of demonstrat-
ing to the military that it would not impose political censor-
ship on strictly military matters--reckoning, apparently, that
it would be alert enough to scotch any military attempt to use
it. However, the strength of the Muslim reaction had been such
that the Communists could not have been overly optimistic re-
garding the inability of its opponents to fight. Indeed, al-
though the land reform issue was still warm, it was not being
pursued with the same vigor in August-September of 1965 as it
had been in that period the year before. There had instead been
developing, since early in the year, an emphasis on "boyscout"
activities in the countryside (advice on agricultural techni-
ques, attempts to develop cooperatives, aid in procuring ferti-
lizer, setting up of party-run schools, promotion of folk cul-
ture, building of sanggar to house party-oriented community
activities, improvement of irrigation, and so on). These were
designed to serve as an alternative focus of PKI rural action,
one which would avoid the dangerous aspects of the land reform
campaign and might also spread Communist influence among the
middle peasants and prevent the alienation of the well-to-do in
solidly PKI village^, which had so harmed the party in Central
Java during its land-reform push.101
In its relations with the military, the PKI seemed
aware that it needed to balance pressure to secure the Fifth
Force with an effort to mollify the military otherwise:	thus,
in an abridgement of Aidit's 1963 lecture to the SESKOAD (Army
Staff and Command School), published in Harlan Rakjat on October 1
for the coming Armed Forces Day, the sections stressing the
patriotic, pro-Rakjat nature of the army were reproduced vir-
tually intact, while a portion that would ruffle military
feathers was abbreviated and altered. This last is very inter-
esting, as the PKI followed the Chinese (as opposed to Soviet)
habit of not falsifying its own documents; so that it was a
conscious effort not to annoy the military leadership, and this
on the eve of the coup. (4) A second Aidit speech, one made to
the naval school in July 1965, was reprinted in the Harlan
Rak jat Armed Forces Day series on October 2nd; again, it was
one avoiding sensitive subjects and aiming at impressing the
audience with the PKI's understanding of military questions.
More important, it showed Aidit possessed a lively awareness of
the danger to the PKI of military support for the coalescing
Muslim reaction?
For a long time now the Communists of Indonesia have
proclaimed and promoted the slogan of the Dwitunggal of the
Armed Forces and the People. This dwitunggal reflects the
essence of the relationship between defence and politics? we
can describe it, too, as the relation between fish and water.
The water is the People. Clearly a fish cannot live with-
out water; but neither can it live within it if the water
has been poisoned. For the Armed Forces, a People divided
against itself is as tainted water to a fish. For this
reason the slogan of the Dwitunggal of the Armed Forces and
the People can only be made a reality if all sides, without
exception, guard the water that it may be free from every
kind of poison, from hatred for the Communists, from hatred
for the masses. (5)
But if it seems unlikely that either Sukarno or the PKI
had an objective interest in pushing the struggle with the
political generals to a violent solution, and if they gave no
signs of feeling subjectively that the time for a showdown had
come, there still remains a third possibility* namely, that a
move from the side of the SUAD was feared, and that the events
of October 1 were a reaction to a coup plotted (or thought to
be plotted) by the military. If, as we have argued, the polit-
ical situation had been less one of frustration for Sukarno and
the PKI than for the Nasution group, and if the latter group
found its power within the military threatened with serious
erosion, then surely it must have been severely discontent with
the terms under which it was being forced to operate. Its ace—-
monopoly of the instruments of violence through the concentra-
tion of all weapons in the hands of reliable military commanders
(who could be relied on to obey commands by the General Staff)—
was its sole remaining card, and one which it might soon have102
to surrender. How great the danger of this was is hard to
determine, but given the speed with which the PKI had advanced
and the army declined—it was only two and a half years from
the ending of the State of EmergencyJ—one feared that once the
process of retreat had begun it would be very rapid. If the
army was to break out of the charmed circle with which Sukarno
had circumscribed its power, it could do so only by an abrupt
action.
The whole atmosphere of Djakarts for more than a year
before the coup had been one of increasing tension, of the
oppressive calm preceding a storm that never seemed to come,
but which—via anti-inflation demonstrations, land reform
clashes, and Muslim reaction—demonstrated its severity by dis-
tant thunder and lightning. Little changed and yet everything
was changing? perhaps this stability of instability would last
forever, perhaps it would give way tomorrow in a rush. Sukarno's
policy of domestication had not brought a real increase in unity
but rather a polarization, with the right dependent increasingly
on the army and the army increasingly feeling that its sole ad-
vantage was its monopoly of arms. It is hardly conceivable that
Sukarno and the PKI did not know of the importance which Nasution
attached to preventing the Communists from gaining a military
potential and therefore hardly conceivable that they did not
realize that their thrust in this direction, and particularly
the actual training of PKI youth by other services, was chal-
lenging what the SUAD considered a vital interest. (6) Unless
and until the military reconciled itself to this, or non-army
military strength had reached proportions where it could not be
challenged, the power struggle was in an extremely delicate
transitional stage.
Sukarno and the PKI must therefore have been in a state
of considerable tension regarding the possibility of a SUAD-
sponsored coup. It was not a matter of the normal objective
likelihood of the army being able to decide on or succeed in a
coup but rather that at that particular point, when its deepest
interests were challenged and its military strength was still
invincible, that the SUAD would decide on a coup if it ever did.
It would not attempt a large-scale move: all that need be achieved
by the action was Sukarno's death. There were always coup rumors
around Armed Forces Day; this year promised to be a particularly
lively occasion and some sort of army show of strength was ex-
pected; and doubtless Subandrio and the PKI, and anyone else
who thought he could gain anything from it, had been encouraging
stories about the army and the CIA. Sukarno would therefore
have been particularly receptive to reports of CIA-sponsored
intrigue and to the claims of anti-SUAD elements in the army.
But if Sukarno feared a generals' plot and wished to
avert it, destroying the army's political leadership by arresting
the SUAD leaders and depositing them outside Djakarta, would he
have been sufficiently confident of success to take the action?
For it would have been a gamble, an abrupt break in the situation103
that would either totally demoralize the right or rally it. It
is doubtful he would have, unless he had such evidence of collu-
sion against him that he could silence objections? and obviously
this is something he did not possess, for otherwise his post-
coup position would not have been so weak. The army might not
have united for a move against him, but it might very well unite
against a move aimed at it* for if the general staff could be
arrested without a by-your-leave then no officer was safe. Al-
ready that year the killing of an army man by peasants in the
Bandar Betsy affair had been virtually countenanced, army people
had been named among those accused of gross corruption, and now
the general staff was to be charged with treason and thrown into
jail. Would the territorial commanders outside the Javanese
areas take it?—they had rallied behind Nasution and insisted
on Sukarno's keeping him a year before? they might well take
strong measures now, insisting on a court martial that could be
highly embarrassing to the President, and making him accept the
return of a by now highly hostile general staff. Could he have
been sure Suharto would not balk? Suharto would never coup him,
but by arresting the general staff Sukarno would be so striking
at the integrity of the military apparatus that even an officer
who had no ties of friendship or trust with the SUAD would, if
he were at all strong and honest, be forced to make the firmest
objections. Even assuming that Sukarno had reached such an
over-estimation of his authority (which is doubtful, considering
the delicate way he was handling Muslim disorder and other
issues on which he must have felt strongly but did not dare to
act) there are several reasons to believe he would not have
acted in the way he apparently did if he had had time to plan
in advance?
First, the choice of Untung. Why would Sukarno have
taken a new battalion commander, perhaps the newest of the
Tjakra commanders, in preference to someone he knew better,
someone more experienced and with a firmer authority over the
troops under him? Because Untung came to him saying he had
support among Central Java officers for an anti-SUAD move?
Sukarno must have met eccentrics with some such tale every day?
he might believe the tale, but that would not mean he would use
that particular chap in preference to someone whose actions he
could be surer of. And of what use were Untung's Central Java
contacts if what was wanted was the smooth arrest and isolation
of the SUAD people? There seems little reason for Sukarno to
have chosen Untung as his instrument if he were given the oppor-
tunity to choose.
Second, why is the President at Halim and why are the
kidnappings so crudely carried out from a political viewpoint?
If Sukarno was previously convinced the generals were going to
coup him, or in any case that he must take action against them,
then he had no reason to confront them. He would have desired
them taken out of the city as expeditiously as possible? and
if he wished to be in the city himself but accessible to a means104
of exit he would certainly not have chosen as his base the same
place to which the kidnappees were to be taken. Moreover, ar-
resting seven people in their beds is a risky thing, considering
the consequences if a key member of the group is missed, and
the fact that at their homes some have guards, probably all
have weapons, and all have both civilian and military communi-
cations systems. Was there no excuse on which Sukarno could
assemble them and arrest them together? Even in the midst of a
larger group, why not? That would avoid the two great risks,
bloodshed and missing Nasution or Yani, and if Sukarno could get
away with arresting them in the dark he could get away with it
in the daylight. Indeed, a daylight move would be more in
keeping with his style and source of power:	the arrest-in-the-
middle-of-the-night is the style of one who wishes to demonstrate
that naked force is the only thing that matters and that he con-
trols it: the public arrest can be given a ceremonial character,
the awful authority of the monarch striking down his faithless
servants. Properly staged, it should not prevent the swift re-
moval of the generals from the capital. Again, why were greater
precautions not taken in instructing the Tjakrabirawa troops
who did the kidnappings—both about the manner in which they
should approach the generals and the absolute need for taking
them alive? If Sukarno had had any time to think about the
affair, surely this would have occurred. Moreover, he would
surely have given consideration to the consequences of a slip-up
and the measures he should take if one occurred. We see no
evidence of such precautions* instead Sukarno placed himself
compromisingly at Halim and spent all day there, floundering.
Third, why was Subandrio unaware Of what was going on?
For if he knew what was afoot it is hardly likely that on the
day of the affair he would not have been in Djakarta—where he
would have been able to keep tabs on what was going on--or out
of the country—where he would have been safe in case of failure
—but in North Sumatra, trailing an. entourage studded with gener-
als. Perhaps Sukarno didn't trust him to keep his mouth shut
concerning the plans for removing the generals? But Subandrio
did not get where he was by talking loosely about something
vitally concerning his political survival. Moreover, the smooth
functioning of the intelligence apparatus on the eve of such a
move was essential* and it was necessary to have information
collected or falsified in order to justify the arrest of the
generals. It was important that Subandrio be around to act as
go-between, information-collector, and scapegoat in the event
of negotiation or failure. But he was not there.
Fourth, why were the Communists involved, and precisely
those PKI people who were receiving military training? Of all
things Sukarno would want- to avoid in any conflict with the
military it would be a chance for them to blame it on the PKI.
He must have been aware of the training at Halim* if there was
any planning to the business at all he would have made sure no
one from the PKI groups was being trained there then, and105
certainly he would never have involved Communists in any part
of the action. Why blood the PKI and yet present the whole
affair to the outside world as an internal army matter? Sukarno
had no need to fear the PKI would not back him in an effort
against the generals unless it were compromised; and if he had
planned the operation beforehand surely he would have had
enough control over the events at Halim to avoid the bloody
and senseless denouement of the kidnappings. It would only have
made sense for the President to involve the PKI at all if he
intended to make the affair into a major leftward surge, with
people out in mass demonstrations denouncing the Generals'
Council and cheering the renewal of the revolution. That
Sukarno vould contemplate such a move is, as we stated earlier,
unlikely; but in any event the fact is that nothing did happen
on October 1. The first Untung statement stressed that the
whole affair was an Internal army matter, civilians were to
keep calm and wait, and newspapers might continue publishing as
usual. There was a complete lack of civilian activity other
than the receipt and distribution of news furnished by the
Untung group via the RRI, Antara, and newspapers, and the dither-
ings of politicians who obviously had not the faintest idea
what was going on.
The Untung Group, Acting
Independently to Seize Power
"Only the honoured Chiefs of the corps of the Palace Guard
have a limit, fixed. Five is the number of these mantri's,
blameless, taking care of the business of the Interior."
—Nagarakrtagama (10, II, 3-4)
If we accept, then, that it is not likely the PKI or
Sukarno planned the affair of October 1, is it not possible
that the group comprising the September 30th Movement did so,
acting to secure power on its own? We posit here middle-grade
officers strongly resentful of the army top leadership, which
they hold responsible for their professional lack of success
and for the country's unfortunate situation. They would be
sympathetic to opinions and rumors—inspired by the Communists
and others—pointing to the Western orientation of the General
Staff group, to its Menteng mentality, and to its obstruction
of Sukarno's endeavors. They grumble among themselves. If
only Sukarno would take action to rid himself of these people;
if only he didn't stare himself blind at the General Staff and
its allies among the top officers and realized that Just below
them was a vital part of the army willing to ally with the
People and carry the revolution forward. They might but need
not have formed a well-defined conspiracy; in fact, the sudden
and erratic course of the coup would seem to argue against real
organization or thorough planning. We need assume only the most
primitive form of association—that of common feeling and common
acquaintance, at least having heard of Untung and knowing where10
he stood. Presumably in Central Java various officers of
Untung's circle had/ when he was stationed there, agreed with
him often in conversation that Something Had to Be Done, and
perhaps had heard him repeat that he was the man to do it.
Presumably among the Semarang group this had been discussed in
more concrete form after Untung was posted to the TJakrabirawa—
unless it was sheer accident that put Untung's old battalion in
Djakarta for Armed Forces Day. But those outside Djakarta need
have had no prior knowledge of just what would be attempted or
when:	they need only have known enough so that when something
did occur they were not too surprised or uncertain of its mean-
ing to act.
It would not seem unnatural that a relationship could
have existed or been established between Untung and his asso-
ciates and the air force personnel at Halim:	both resented the
army and especially the General Staff, the air force particularly
because of longstanding rivalry between the services and because
of the army's footdragging in the Kalimantan campaign. We see
pro-rebel sympathies evidenced at the air bases in Central Java,
presumably because of similar feelings. Nonetheless, it seems
unlikely that the Untung group could by itself have recruited
the people necessary to control Halim as completely and for as
long a time as it did, for its command was apparently unques-
tioned:	the PGT guards and trainers, the technical and air
force personnel, were all either participants in the affair or
silent. Moreover, although we know the Air Force commander
Dhani was at Halim on October 1, that he flew off to Central
Java with Aidit, and that Suharto at first blamed the AURI for
the affair, still Dhani was not arrested or dismissed without
the consolation of a ministry. Therefore he was not in the end
considered particularly culpable, as he certainly would have
been had he acted independently of the President? nor was he
someone who would in any event be expected to act without the
President. And so we must assume that Dhani was not, while at
Halim, acting without ..Sukarno and. that, the Untung group secured
his participation and ensured command of the air base by some-
how involving the President.
We can understand that the rebels would have wanted to
control Halim, for it gave them a relatively safe base from
which to operate in Djakarta, provided a link with Central
Java for communications, support, or if necessary retreat. But
from a military point of view their actions were otherwise very
strange:	not only did they command a paltry number of troops
in Djakarta compared to those under regular army control, but
they made no attempt to kidnap the two generals with operational
command over troops in the Djakarta area:	the Djakarta garri-
son commander Umar and the KOSTRAD commander Suharto, the
latter of whom customarily took command of the army in Yani's
absence. Nor, though it was just down the road from Halim, did
they seize KOSTRAD headquarters, or even block road communica-
tions to it? and it was from there that the counter-coup was or-
ganized. The coup forces' strength was almost entirely concen-
trated at Halim and at Medan Merdeka, where the objects on whichthey concentrated were the radio station and the palace. Once
they had this central but highly vulnerable area the rebel
troops sat about, waiting, until General Suharto persuaded most
of them to go home. As a military move it was hopeless.
But what else was intended? That the military forces be
joined by massive popular demonstrations which would sweep a new
regime into power? The Involvement of Pemuda Rakjat and Gerwani
would certainly seem to point to securing a PKI commitment, as
would the apparent kidnapping of Aidit; but the Communists did
not come out on the streets that day. Was it because Aidit re-
fused to declare for the rebels in spite of being at their
mercy and in spite of the compromising position in which the
PKI had been placed? This does not explain it, for the first
Untung radio statement declared, along with its denunciation of
the generals, that the affair was an internal army matter and
the civilian population should keep calm and await further
announcements. Mass participation was thus not only not forth-
coming but was not desired; but how then could the Untung group
have hoped to succeed? There would only seem to be one possible
explanation for this peculiar approach:	namely that the Presi-
dent was the essential figure in the maneuver, for if military
strength was clearly insufficient and massive demonstrations
not counted on, then it must have been Presidential authority
that was to tip the scales.
An Unplanned Move by the President,
Generated Spontaneously or by OtlKers
"A consequence of his supernatural power was its disappear-
ance, verily the Non-entity's supreme manifestation."
—Naqarakrtagama (56, II, 4)
Now if it is unlikely that the President had reason or
opportunity to give prior thought to the affair, and if the moves
of the Untung group make sense only if the President was, in one
way or another, a key figure, what are the remaining alterna-
tives? It is possible (A) that news of a coup already in motion
was presented to the President, by Untung or others, but without
knowledge on anyone's part that it was false. All subsequent
action thus depended on the President and was unplanned. Or (B)
Untung and perhaps others came to the President with news of a
coup in progress, this having been concocted by them or by people
associated with them; therefore, they or the people behind them
knew it was false, but wished for reasons of their own to see a
confrontation between Sukarno and the generals, though they had
not intended to seek power for themselves. They thus initiated
the action but did not determine its further course. Or (C) the
Untung group gambled on being able to trick the President into
initial involvement in the affair, reckoning that later, if he
was not wholly persuaded of their true scheme, he would be forced
to go along with it because he and groups he needed were108
compromised. The initiative and subsequent responsibility would
thus lie with them.
The first choice (A), that of a more or less accidental
origin of the affair, is unlikely because it would seem impro-
bable that the Diponegoro and Brawidjaja regiments could have
been brought into the affair if the whole thing was begun all
of a sudden by Sukarno. However, it might not be impossible if
their commanders were friends of Untung's and Sukarno ordered
Untung to call on unite he trusted; we know he once led the
Diponegoro battalion, while the Brawidjaja battalion had been
in Irian like Untung's, so that there may have been an acquaint-
ance sufficiently strong to command swift cooperation. Another
problem is that this hypothesis makes it extremely difficult
to explain the involvement of the PKI and the killing of the
generals; though this also is perhaps not impossible. We may
imagine, for example, that having been told there were suspicious
troop movements the Tjakra acted on its own initiative. There was
to have been a maneuver at SenaJan on the morning of October 1.
This means tanks would have been going in that direction about
three in the morning, as (from what we know of a similar exer-
cise) they were to be ready to begin maneuvers at dawn; they
would have gone down Djl. Iman Bondjol, turning left on DJI.
Djenderal Sudirman, then out to Senajan passing within a short
distance of Dewi's house where Sukarno was spending the night.
It would not be unlikely that the Army might have failed to in-
form the Tjakrabirawa of these maneuvers,, because relations be-
tween SUAD and Tjakra were extremely poor; about a year ago, for
instance, Tjakra held a startling maneuver at Senajan—which
sounded like a major battle in the midst of the city—without
informing the army at all. So, particularly if rumors about a
generals' coup were strong at the time, it is not impossible
that the reports of strange troop movements and rumors that the
destination was Dewi's house and not Senajan were picked up and
believed by the Tjakra guard; which then moved Sukarno to Halim
to be near his plane until the situation was more certain.
Sukarno, in something between a panic and a fury, called
for a confrontation with the generals he would have considered
to be involved in organizing something against him—the particu-
lar people who were kidnapped, the political brains of the army.
The abrupt announcement that he was in danger, the night ride,
the air of urgency all created an atmosphere where not too care-
ful inquiries would have been made once the President was per-
suaded to move; anyway, with his chief of intelligence away,
how could he investigate swiftly about a coup which he was told
was already beginning? Better to run the risk of some embarrass-
ment—after all it was not you who took alarm first but your
guard—and perhaps even if it should be a false alarm the mere
fact that your guard so feared a coup from your generals that it
prepared you for evacuation could be turned, with a show of
moral indignation, to your political advantage.109
And so orders were given to summon the generals. But
in great haste and excitement? and so things which might not
have been thought of from the very first by the President, but
which surely he would have taken into account had he had time
for sober reflection, were neglected. The TJakra was told to
bring in the generals for a confrontation with Sukarno, gently
if possible, roughly if not? the presumption of such instruc-
tions was that the generals would be brought in alive though
perhaps not willingly? it was not stressed that they must on no
account be done to death because this was not considered as a
possibility. There were not enough people among the available
TJakra to handle all the arrests, given the necessity to sur-
round houses and over-power guards? therefore the kidnapping
units added supernumeraries in the form of volunteers from
Lubang Buaja,on their own initiative, for even in a panic Presi-
dential orders for this were most unlikely. Though the kidnapping
units were told the generals were to be summoned to the President,
they were also informed that there was an attempt by the generals
to coup the President, so that their manner of approaching the
generals was rough. Several of the generals immediately assumed
that they were being arrested (a measure of the tension under
which the top people in Djakarta must have been living on the
eve of the coup)? they resisted and were killed on the spot.
But this reading of the events leads us to a third and
insuperable objection? why are the surviving generals killed?
If Sukarno was the prime mover, even if acting in a panic and
with suspicion of the generals that was probably deepened by
the fact that some of them resisted being summoned to him, it
is hard to see him ordering the others killed. Apart from the
question whether such action would fit Sukarno's style, he would
have stood only to lose by their death. He must have known,
if Untung was merely carrying out his orders, that Nasution had
escaped? there was therefore almost no chance he could get away
without a confrontation with that general and his supporters.
The only thing to do, one would think, would have been to act
with an air of lofty distress, placing the blame for violence
on the servants who, if overly energetic, were nonetheless
faithful to their master and shocked at the thought that there
was a plot against him. Played properly this could create the
impression that lese majesty had been committed in putting him
in this painful situation, and that quite possibly something even
more sinister was behind it. But if Sukarno ordered the generals
killed, inevitably word would leak out that he gave the orders?
and this would ruin him with the army.
Is it possible that the generals were killed through
some misinterpretation of what Sukarno wanted? This seems most
unlikely, particularly from the strong impression of control by
the PGT given in the confessions of those who took part? but,
in any event, if the generals were killed by mistake or by
panic-born irrationality on Sukarno's part, it is still very
difficult to imagine that their bodies would have been disposediiC
of by dumping them in a well at the very place where the volun-
teers were being trained by the AURI. It would have been no
problem—since planes could and did take off from Halim that
day, and it was some time before Suharto's forces surrounded
the base—to dump stripped bodies from a considerable height
over the sea, which would have precluded their being identified.
The army would doubtless have been furious, but vanished gener-
als are much harder to make public martyrs than demonstrably
dead ones, particularly ones as badly mauled as these were said
to have been. Without bodies it would have been much easier to
cast doubt in the public mind about the fate of the generals
and about the roles of Pemuda Rakjat and Gerwani, and thus would
have left the President considerably more room for maneuver.
Is it possible then that Sukarno, on discovering that
some of the generals had been killed, gave Untung a tongue-
lashing which convinced him that if he did not wish to find
himself executed for murder he had better force Sukarno to pro-
tect him? And therefore he had the remaining generals murdered,
declaring to the President that if he did not cooperate he,
Untung, would claim he had killed them on Sukarno's orders?
That he then had the announcement made concerning the Generals'
Council and spent the rest of the day bargaining with Sukarno,
in a stalemate that would prove the downfall of them both? This
would not explain why Sukarno was in such very bad odor with
the unpolitical General Suharto following the affair* if he had
been clearly forced—and surely Untung's claim would not have
stood long under questioning—his moral authority would not have
been so severely damaged as it was.
Moreover, General Supardjo was seen in the palace early
on the morning of coup. What is a general who has deserted his
command doing in the palace on the morning of the affair if there
had been nothing afoot beforehand? And why, if nothing was in-
tended by either Sukarno or Untung beyond the arrest or covering
up of the murders of the generals, was it announced that a
Revolutionary Council would be formed? If Sukarno intended it
as a dodge so that he could later claim he had been kidnapped
and was a prisoner of Untung cs, it is inexplicable that he
issued a statement after the affair in which he insisted he
went to Halim voluntarily.
An "accidental" origin of the affair thus seems unlikely.
Let us therefore consider the second alternative we have sug-
gested, i.e., the conscious concoction of a coup tale by Untung
or people behind him for the limited objective of seeing a con-
frontation between Sukarno and the generals, not necessarily
with the idea of killing them and not with the idea of any fur-
ther moves towards the reorganization of the state. This brings
us first of all to the question of motivation.
On the left there were certainly those who had an interest
in raising Sukarno's suspicions of Nasution and his colleagues,Ill
and surely the PKI and Subandrio had been fanning the embers of
distrust. But neither of them had an interest in seeing an ab-
rupt confrontation of Sukarno with the general staff as a body:
their technique was to take frontal action against one person
at a time and not to provide the military with a cause about
which it might unite. The arrest of the generals would provide
such a cause unless the charges could be well substantiated,
for as we pointed out earlier even the nonpolitical military
elements could not afford to accept the arrest of the general
staff on false charges. Moreover, the very delicate process of
securing army acquiescence to PKI acquisition of a military
capability demanded that the Communists be particularly careful
in not arousing the army to action. If the Communists aimed at
anything less than the killing of the generals they would pre-
sumably have ended up with Sukarno doing his embarrassed best to
bluff his way out of an encounter with a rumpled and indignant
general staffy the generals would have been made more conscious
of the President's distrust of them and of Communist perfidy.
The President would be furious at them for having put him in
such a position* and they could hardly be sure he would not find
out they were behind the maneuver. If they aimed in fact at
forcing Sukarno to seize power from the generals and provide a
leftist surge to the revolution, then killing the generals and
implicating Sukarno made sense—if one can assume that the PKI
felt itself, for reasons unknown to us, in a desperate situation.
But in that case surely more generals would have been taken
care of, particularly Suharto and Dinar, who commanded troop
movements in the Djakarta area; yet according to Suharto no
attempt on them was made. No attempt was made to take KOSTRADy
Suharto drove out there in the morning alone in his jeep and
met no interference. No attempt was made to coup commanding
officers in non-Diponegoro territories, nor were any kidnappings,
murders, or whatever done to military commanders who might have
sent troops to Djakarta to put down any disturbance there. This
includes General Adjie of West Java, who was known to be very
hostile to the PKI and who could easily send in his Siliwangi
troops.
If for some reason the PKI wished to promote a confron-
tation between the President and the generals—bloody or un-
bloody—it would presumably keep itself and its organizations
completely out of the picture so that it could not be implicated
and could reap the benefits of whatever turmoil the affair
createdy or come out in full force, with mass demonstrations
and actions, in order to overwhelm the unfavorable military
situation by political means, creating such a whirlwind that
army people would either be too confused to act, yield to the
temptation to Jump onto what appeared to be a rapidly rolling
bandwagon, or fear to initiate reprisals because of the awe-
inspiring appearance of mass support for the movement. But,as
remarked earlier, neither path was taken. And had the party had
any knowledge of what had actually transpired on October 1 at
Halim, Harian Rakjat would surely have contained not pallid112
praise for Untung, but either last year's rice prices or a call
to arms.
But if the PKI did not spark Untung's move, and if the
whole maneuver, given the immense military odds against its
success, worked against rather than for the interests of the
PKI and Sukarno, is it not possible that the instigation came
from their enemies? We think here of types associated with the
Murba grouping? not the Adam Malik-Chaerul Saleh sort, but the
Sukarni people, some of them by now rather paunchy but who,
never having outgrown the pemuda mentality, still dream of the
day when they kidnapped the President and shared in the excite-
ment of Revolution. This was the one group that held a simul-
taneous enmity for the army, the PKI, and the President. It is
the civilian equivalent, in many respects, of the sort of people
Untung and his military friends seem to have been? and they are
given to low-level intrigue and the promotion of things to em-
barrass the PKI. Their efforts in this line made up in cunning
what they lacked in intelligence, and were in fact a distinct
worry to the Communists, who were always afraid the Sukarni
types would start something for which the blame would be pinned
on the PKI. Aidit had quite a complex about Sukarni for this
reason, out of all proportion to Sukarni's ability or independent
political strength. It was a case of the elephant being fright-
ened of the mouse? but the mouse was dangerous because it knew
how to keep out of sight and had very few compunctions about
what it did—and all it had to accomplish was the compromising
of the PKI, as it could count on the more powerful opponents of
the PKI, such as the army, to follow up on whatever it started.
Only a few weeks before the Murba Party had been banned, after
nearly a year of persecution? that its adherents would want to
make trouble—for everyone in general and the PKI in particular—
is very imaginable.
We remember the odd confession of one of the military
leaders involved in the plot, Colonel Latief. It mentions per-
sons who "to the best of the knowledge and conviction" of Latief
(the proviso is always included in the several mentionings of
their names) were members of the CC PKI. (7) Though their names
are presented as being genuine and not aliases, they are not
listed on the official roster of CC members and candidates, nor
do we have any record of them holding any post in the party.
They could, however, have said they were "secret members" to
explain this. They assured the military plotters that Aidit
approved of the coup plan, gave the conspirators to understand
that they were in constant touch with the PKI chairman and that
he had approved the check list (which the Untung group, not the
PKI, drew upi) of people to be murdered, from which Aidit mag-
nanimously removed the named of Hatta, Sukarni, and Chaerul
Saleh.
Presumably Murba elements could have gotten hold of, or
concocted, some documents as evidence of these agents' authority113
to show the Untung group. Not much would be required, given
the ability of Murba types to wield a Marxist phrase or two,
and the image of Communism as a vast conspiracy, which would be
particularly believable to people who had predilection for con-
spiracy themselves. That the Untung group could be gulled by a
maneuver of this sort is not unimaginable; but would they not
have checked at all in the course of their plottings about the
credentials of those they were dealing with? As commander of
one of the guard units, Untung would have seen Aidit often
enough at the Palace; would he not have tipped a wink to his
"fellow conspirator"? Supposedly this contact had gone on since
February 1965, a long time for light not to have dawned in even
the most feeble brain. Presumably the Untung group would have
relied on the "Central Committee members" to provide PKI support,
for why else get involved with the PKI, real or false? Would
the later, conservative (that is, few PKI and relatively many
rightwing generals) composition of the Revolutionary Council
represent an Untung reaction to the discovery that the PKI was
not coming through with support in the way he had been led to
believe? But presumably if Untung thought he was working to-
gether with the PKI and expected it to come out on the streets
to back them, he would have made a rousing initial statement.
Instead, he stressed that it is an internal army affair. Nor
is this the sort of massage Murba people would have encouraged Un-
tung to give, as their interest would have been precisely in
implicating the PKI as deeply as possible.
We may also ask in this connection whether there may not
have been discontented lower-rank PKI members who, finding
Aidit's gradualist approach insufficiently revolutionary despite
its achievements, helped promote the incident and involve the
party with the idea that it would then be forced to try a vio-
lent seizure of power. Could such people have presented them-
selves to the Untung group as "Central Committee members"? Much
the same objections to this suggestion arise as to the Murba
possibility:	it is unlikely the fiction could have been main-
tained for long, and unlikely the Untung group would have dealt
with the "PKI" without expecting and broadcasting for mass par-
ticipation by the Communists on October 1. Moreover, the pre-
sumed purpose of discontented lesser party figures would be to
get the PKI committed to revolution, in which case they would
surely have made clear to the party heads, once the kidnappings
and murders had occurred, that the PKI was compromised and must
commit itself to revolution. But this was not done, else the
response of Harlan Rakjat and the party to the events of Octo-
ber 1 would not have been so fatally ambiguous.
Perhaps there was PKI collusion at an even lower level,
however? that is, perhaps the Communist volunteers were at
Halim by virtue of connivance between the plotters and the local
PKI leaders who recruited them for training. The latter, having
been informed what was to take place, brought together particu-
larly pliable or tough recruits, who would obey any orders they111+
were given, and in this manner they provided the coup group with
badly needed auxiliary personnel and committed the PKI to revo-
lution. According to various confessions, the volunteers were
recruited—as was normal for each training period—via the CS
(Section Committee) of the PKI in their locality. (8) Now the
levels of PKI organization above the group or cell were? local
committee (CR), subsection committee (CSS), section committee
(CS), and party committee—this last being the CDR, the Greater
Djakarta Committee, which, because it represented the capital
district, simultaneously had the status of first-level regional
committee (CDB), the highest level below the Central Committee
itself. A Section Committee was therefore high up on the lpcal
ladder, and one would assume that in Djakarta, where the party
had been at particular pains to prevent indiscipline that would
alarm the elite, the leaders of these committees would have
been carefully chosen. However, everyone makes mistakes; let
us assume that one—or rather several—were made this time.
It is still hard to believe that lesser PKI figures, if
they had played an active role in organizing the attempt, would
not by now have been mentioned prominently in the army press;
though of course it would not be stated they acted contrary to
party commands. They were not, however; only Njono, head of the
Djakarta party organization, was given prominent treatment. He
was too high up, too long a member of the Aidit team, to fill
the bill of rebellious underling, however; presumably he was
picked up at a very early point (October 3; for questioning,
according to the first reports) because as head of the Djakarta
party organization the army would hold him responsible for the
actions of local Communists, including the involved volunteers.
And again, there is the problem that PKI plotters at any level
would surely have informed the higher leadership that Communist
involvement was a fait accompli and the party had better commit
itself in strength accordingly; but obviously this was not done.
Much the same can be said of PKI participation in the
Central Java plotting of the coup: what is extraordinary is
not the amount of Communist participation in the initial phase
of the affair but the lack of it. There was a certain amount of
bandwagon-jumping, for some letters of encouragement to the
September 30th Movement were written by Communist units on
October 1:	but these were scattered, mostly from young people
clearly acting from naivete and opportunism rather than any com-
prehension of what was going onr and there were not more than
half a dozen of them. There was a certain amount of score-
settling by Communist elements in areas affected by the coup,
but again this happened only after the affair was well under
way, and we hear of no such activity undertaken concurrently
with the takeovers or in' the few days when the rebels were in
actual control.
The only involvement of Communist groups as auxiliaries
to the rebel military forces or for demonstrations of mass115
support was in Jogjakarta# where students reportedly took over
the radio station on October 1 evening and where on the after-
noon following the coup leftist youth groups demonstrated under
rebel guard in support of the September 30th Movement. This
participation# however# appears to have been chiefly a function
of connections between the local coup leader# Major Muljono, and
civilian youth groups. The demonstration was notable for the
absence of PKI# SOBSI# Gerwani# and BTI participants? whether
those organizations knew about plans for a demonstration and re-
fused to participate# only to be defied by enthusiastic young
people, or whether Muljono had recruited the demonstrators en-
tirely without reference to party and mass organization leader-
ship is hard to say. In any event, it is apparent that their
activities took place after the Jogja coup itself had occurred,
and no evidence has been brought forward of individual civilian
leaders# from youth groups or otherwise# participating in the
plotting or carrying out of the coup.
There is only one place in Central Java where a PKI
official came out in open support of a takeover, and that was
in Surakarta# where maysr utomo Ramelan made a brief statement
backing the local coup. But Ramelan had been put up by the PKI
for the mayoralty because, being easygoing and of good family#
he was salonf&hiq enough to content the non-Communist groups.
He was possibly the most timorous and conservative man in the
PKI, and the last person to take initiative on anything, let
alone a rebellion. In all likelihood, the Surakarta coup leaders
demanded he make a statement of support# and he was too fright-
ened and muddled to refuse. The Surakarta incident is interest-
ing not as evidence of PKI responsibility for the affair but as
the only place where there seems to have been any attempt by
coup leaders to involve civilian authorities at all. For what
is extraordinary about the coup in both Central Java and Djakarta
is the extent to which civilian groups were ignored# or at best
used peripherally, by those who attempted to seize power.
If# then# the PKI had no demonstrable cause to plan or
join in the September 30th Movement; if the President had little
reason or opportunity to plan the action beforehand; if the
Untung group could not have hoped to succeed militarily and did
not attempt to mobilize civilian support, there remains one
possibility why the events of October 1 took place as they did.
The coup group gambled on being able to persuade Sukarno to go
along with them initially, reckoning that once at Halim he would
have no choice but to support them. Halim was to become the new
Rengasdenklok; the radio station was guarded to ensure that the
President, having been persuaded to proclaim the renewal of the
revolution, would be able to rally the nation behind it. The
palace was held chiefly for its symbolic value# and so that the
President could return to it in triumph after the proclamation.
His word would be enough* it was not necessary to have great
military strength or civilian participation# except as Sukarno116
himself would command. It is our idea of what actually happened,
but, as a certain currently unmentionable political organization
was wont to say in sunnier days, we are always open to criticism
from other groups.
Notes
(1)	For the Conefo crate story, see Api Pantjasila, October 20,
1965. The KOTI denied the charges promptly (RRI broadcast,
October 21, 1965? Sinar Harapan, October 22, 1965); it is possi-
ble the Chinese elicited this swift response by informing the
army that if it did not like what was in their crates they would
not send any more. For the charge that Djuanda died of drinking
poisoned Chinese wine, see Suara Islam, October 22, 1965? it
was denied by President Sukarno in a speech of October 23 (RRI
broadcast, October 26, 1965). As regards this accusation, we
can state on unimpeachable authority that the late Ir. Djuanda
met his death at the hands of Ratu Aminah Hidajat, who enticed
him against his better judgment to dance the twist one evening
in the Nirvana Room of the Hotel Indonesia, as a result of which
activity he suffered a fatal heart attack.
(2)	In paranoid judgment, as the overt meaning of an object ap-
proaches zero its covert significance nears infinity* A nice
example of this is the November 12, 1965, raid on the DPRGR
office of M. H. Lukman, gallantly led by Arudji Kartawinata,
deputy speaker of parliament and before October a mighty friend
of the PKI. Incriminating evidence seized in this expedition
consisted of a uniform and books, some rags, a scrap with writing
on it, and a blank sheet of yellow paper (RRI, Djakarta domestic
service in Indonesian, November 13, 1965, conveying an announce-
ment of the DPRGR public relations office; see also Berita Yudha,
November 15, 1965, and other Djakarta papers of that day). We
are not told in the accounts of this seizure what sort of uni-
form it was or what the books were about; but we are told that
the rags had been used for cleaning firearms and the writing was
"something which looked like code". Most menacing of all is
the piece of yellow paper, to which no significance can be at-
tached and which is therefore mentioned prominently in all ac-
counts. a universe of evil hides in a speck of dust; there is
a mark on the road—one glances down and sees, suddenly and
horribly, that it is Satan's hoofprint.
(3)	In the short run, of course. The final fitnahan will natur-
ally be determined by whomever wins ultimate control of the
country and thus of its historical viewpoint. To use a compari-
son introduced earlier* the emperor Nero, having divined that
the burning of Rome was masterminded by the Christian aliran,
took firm and (at least temporarily) effective measures to
destroy that Evil root and branch. Unfortunately, the history
of the Roman Empire was in the end interpreted largely by
Christians, with the result that Nero is well known as the lout11?
who fiddled while his capital burned, wrote a poem in honor of
the conflagration, and very possibly started the fire himself.
(4) In the original version, the sensitive section was composed
of a paragraph stating that the function of the Armed Forces
was solely to execute the Political Manifesto and not to take
initiatives of its own, then the following paragraph (quoted to
give an idea of the tone of the whole), and thereafter three
paragraphs emphasizing the importance of the Air Force and Navy
and the need not to stress one service (i.e., the army) in
Indonesia's defense (Aidit, PKI dan Angkatan Darat (Djakarta,
1963), pp. 29-32)s
Indeed, at present the State of Indonesia still consists
of two aspects. First, the aspect which represents the in-
terests of the People, which is anti-imperialist and anti-
feudal in nature; and second the aspect which represents
the interests of the enemies of the People, which is anti-
popular in nature. This is possible because there are still
dark forces which are desperately defending the interests of
the enemies of the People. Hence the importance of President
Sukarno's policy concerning the retooling of the state appa-
ratus and the principle of "revolution from above and from
below" (Djarek). Although the force representing the inter-
ests of the People is daily increasing in strength, there
remain along with it forces which are trying to stem the
tide of the Revolution, as an instrument of state power,
the Armed Forces of the Republic of Indonesia belongs as a
whole, in its capacity as a Manipolist instrument of state
authority, to the aspect which represents the interests of
the People, to the popular aspect. If there are elements
which do not belong to the People's aspect within the Armed
Forces, they are indeed a foreign substance within the body
of the Armed Forces. It is the duty of all members of the
Armed Forces genuinely to struggle on the side of the People
and oppose every attempt at counter-revolution.
In the October 1st version, these five lengthy paragraphs were
telescoped and toned down into two brief onest
The Armed Forces of the Republic of Indonesia, 6een in
its entirety as a Manipolist instrument of state power, be-
longs to the aspect which represents the interests of the
People, the popular aspect. If there are elements which do
not partake of this popular aspect, they are certainly for-
eign to the Armed Forces. It is the duty of all members of
the Armed Forces to struggle genuinely on the side of the
People and oppose every attempt at counter-revolution.
Another characteristic of the Indonesian Armed Forces is
the unity and effective coordination of the four services,
including the police, without favoring any one; that is,
unity and effective coordination between the Army, the Navy,
the Air Force, and the Police. An attempt to emphasize onebranch alone would not contribute to effective state power
as required by the special conditions of the Indonesian
island-nation.
It would not seem that the PKI would so soften its re-
marks to disguise the fact it was planning a coup, or because
it would not want to annoy the army unnecessarily around Armed
Forces Day. The original comprised a lecture given two years
previously and printed up as a pamphlet then—thus it could hardly
be proven incriminating when repeated in 1965—and it had been
Aidit's first lecture to a military body. He had been at some
pains to make a good impression and be invited back, to Judge
from the introductory remarks of the original speech* and it
would therefore not seem likely he would feel it necessary to
speak more softly for Armed Forces Day in 1965 unless there were
other considerations, such as offering the carrot of reduced
pressure in return for conceding to the training of volunteers.
•(5) Aidit, lecture to the SESKOAL, July 16, 1965, abridged in
Harian Raklat, October 2, 1965. The speech was apparently not
published in its complete version. As it appeared in the Octo-
ber 2 abridgement, it seemed largely designed to show that Aidit
had made a thorough study of Indonesia's military requirements
and found at their heart the need for a stronger fleet--a message
not likely to displease his audience. He did not mention such
sensitive matters as Nasakomization or the Fifth Force, although
at least on the latter subject the PKI had had reason to hope
the navy would lend support.
(6)	Thus General Yani, speaking at a press conference in Lombok
on September- 27, 1965, stated firmly his opposition to the Fifth
Force, which would "render more complicated the policy of the
Armed Forces". Hansip (army-controlled civil defense system) was
a sufficient concession to the principle of arming the workers
and peasants, he asserted. As for the Nasakomization of the
armed forces, he opposed it because "there could arise a sort
of dualism which could endanger our revolution" (Mertlu Suar,
October 24,	1965* and see also Harian Gelora (Mataram), Septem-
ber 30,	1965, citing remarks made by Yani at a press conference
on Seotember 26).
(7)	Confession of Col. A. Latiefy photocopy of typescript.
(3) Possibly they were not in fact brought in this way but via
the Pemuda Rakjat and Gerwani locals, or the Front Nasional or
Front Pemuda/Kowanir and-the PKI contact was an army substitution
in the confessions made to implicate the party more directly.
An article on the Gerwani volunteers appearing in Harian Rakjat
a few days before the affair stated that they were registered
with the local Front Nasional and trained in cooperation with
other Nasakomist women's organizations belonging to Kowani
(Kartir.ah Kurdi, "Intensifkan latihan Sukwati sampai ke-basis2
can unit2," HR, September 27, 1965). It is thus not impossibleU9
that there were non-PKI volunteers attending the Halim training
but that this was kept quiet by the army as it did not fit its
anti-PKI campaign. The first reference to the volunteers as
members of Communist mass organizations was made in General
Suharto's broadcast of October 3 evening# October 3 being the
day the army apparently decided to use the coup attempt to
crush the PKI. Moreover, some initial accounts state the irregu-
lar forces at the base were not Pemuda Rakjat people but SERBAUD
(aviation employees' union) members. Others say they were
pemudas, "mostly" Pemuda Rakjat members. The volunteers might
therefore have been recruited via the Front Pemuda and not the
PKI, and not been solely Pemuda Rakjat members; or they might
have come from other groups, PKI-oriented or not. However,
pending any real evidence to the contrary we have proceeded in
our analysis on the assumption that the volunteers were in fact
drawn solely from Communist mass organizations and were recruited
by the PKI.UNTUNG STATEMENTS
((All translations are based on Indonesian texts found in Antara (Warta
Berita), October 1 (afternoon edition) and Harian Raklat. October 5.))
1. Initial Statement of Lieutenant Colonel Untung
(Text as broadcast over the Djakarta radio at approximately 7:15 a.m. on
the morning of October 1*)
On Thursday, September 30, 1965, a military move took place within
the Army in the capital city of Djakarta which was aided by troops from
other branches of the Armed Forces. The September 30th Movement which
is led by Lieutenant Colonel Untung, Commandant of a Battalion of the
Tjakrabirawa, the personal bodyguard of President Sukarno, .is directed
against Generals who were members of the self-styled Council of Generals.
A number of Generals have been arrested and important communications
media and other vital installations have been placed under the control of
the September 30th Movement, while President Sukarno is safe under its
protection. Also a number of other prominent leaders in society, who had
become targets of the action by the Council of Generals are under the
protection of the September 30th Movement.
The Council of Generals is a subversive movement sponsored by the CIA
and has been very active lately, especially since President Sukarno was
seriously ill in the first week of August of this year. Their hope that
President Sukarno would die of his illness has not materialized.
Therefore, in order to attain its goal the Council of Generals had
planned to conduct a show of force (machtvertoon) on Armed Forces Day,
October 5 this year, by bringing troops from East, Central and West Java.
With this large concentration of military power the Council of Generals
had even planned to carry out a counter-revolutionary coup prior to
October 5, 1965. It was to prevent such a counter-revolutionary coup that
Lieutenant Colonel Untung launched the September 30th Movement which has
proved a great success.
According to a statement obtained from Lieutenant Colonel Untung, the
Commandant of the September 30th Movement, this movement is solely a move-
ment within the Army directed against the Council of Generals which has
stained the name of the Army and harbored evil designs against the Republic
of Indonesia and President Sukarno. Lieutenant Colonel Untung personally
considers this movement as an obligation for him as a member of the
Tjakrabirawa which has the duty to protect the President and the Republic
of Indonesia.
The Conmandant of the September 30th Movement further explained that
the action already taken against the Council of Generals in Djakarta will
be followed by actions throughout Indonesia against agents and sympathizers
of the Council of Generals in the regions. According to the statement of
the Commandant of the September 30th Movement, as a follow-up action, an
121122
Indonesian Revolution Council will be established in the capital* while
in the regions Provincial* District* Sub-District, and Village Revolution
Councils will be established. Members of the Revolution Council will be
composed of civilians and military personnel who fully support the
September 30th Movement.
Political parties, mass organizations* newspapers* and periodicals
may continue functioning, provided that within a time period which will
be specified later they declare their loyalty to the Indonesian Revolution
Council.
The Indonesian Revolution Council which will be established by the
September 30th Movement will consistently carry out the Pantja Azimat
Revolusi' the decisions of the MPRS* the decisions of the DPR-GR, and
the decisions of the DPA. The Indonesian Revolution Council will not
change the Indonesian foreign policy* which is free and active and anti-
nekolim* for the sake of peace in Southeast Asia and in the world. Also
there will be no change of policy with regard to the Second Afro-Asian
Conference and Conefo as well as the confrontation against Malaysia; and
KIAPMA along with other international activities which have been scheduled
to take place in Indonesia will be held as planned.
As Commandant of the September 30th Movement, Lt. Colonel Untung
called on the entire Indonesian people to continue to increase vigilance
and fully assist the September 30th Movement in order to safeguard the
Indonesian Republic from the wicked deeds of the Council of Generals and
its agents so that the Message of the People's Suffering can be fulfilled
in the true sense of the word.
Lt. Colonel Untung appealed to all Army officers, non-commissioned
officers and soldiers to be resolute and to act to eradicate completely
the influence of the Council of Generals and its agents in the Army.
Power-mad Generals and officers who have neglected the lot of their men
and who above the accumulated sufferings of their men have lived in luxury,
led a gay life* insulted..our. women and wasted .government funds, must be
kicked out of the Army and punished accordingly. The Army is not for
generals* but is the possession of all the soldiers of the Army who are
loyal to the ideals of the revolution of August 1945. Lt. Colonel Untung
thanked all troops of the Armed Forces outside the Army for their assis-
tance in the purging of the Array and hoped that purges also will be car-
ried out in the other branches of the Armed Forces against agents and
sympathizers of the Council of Generals. Within a short time Commandant
Lt. Colonel Untung will announce the First Decree concerning the Indonesian
Revolution Council; other decrees will follow.
Djakarta, September 30, 1965.
Information Section of the September 30th Movement as broadcast
over the Indonesian Radio in Djakarta.
The'Pantja Azimat Revolusi" translates imperfectly as "the five charms
of the Revolution". As designated by President Sukarno in June 1965,
these are the following Indonesian ideological concepts:	Nasakom;
Pantjasila; the Political Manifesto; Trisakti; and Berdikari. See
Sukarno's Independence Day Speech on August 17, 1965 in Antara, August
17, 1965.123
2.	"Decree No. 1 on the Establishment of the Indonesian Revolution Council"
(Text as read over the Djakarta radio at approximately 2:00 p.m.,
October 1.)
(Text) In the interest of the State of the Indonesian Republic, in
the interest of safeguarding the implementation of the Pantjasila and the
Pantja Azimat Revolusi completely, in the interest of the safety of the
Army and of the Armed Forces in general, at midnight Thursday, September
30, 1965, a purge was carried out in the Capital City of the Republic of
Indonesia, Djakarta, against members of the self-styled Council of Generals
which had planned a coup on the eve of Armed Forces Day, October 5, 1965.
A number of Generals have been arrested. Means of communications and
other vital installations in the capital have fallen completely under the
control of the September 30th Movement.
The September 30th Movement is a movement entirely confined within
the body of the Army to put an end to arbitrary actions of Generals who
were members of the Council of Generals and other Officers who were hench-
men and sympathizers of members of the Council of Generals. This movement
was assisted by Armed Units not belonging to the Army,
2.	To facilitate the follow-up of the action of September 30, 1965,
the leadership of the September 30th Movement will set up an Indonesian
Revolution Council whose members will consist of civilian and military
individuals who unreservedly support the September 30th Movement.
For the time being, pending general elections for the People's Con-
sultative Council (Madjelis Permusjawaratan Rakjat) in line with the
Constitution of 1945, the Indonesian Revolution Council will constitute
the source of all authority in the Republic of Indonesia. The Indonesian
Revolution Council is a tool of the entire Indonesian people to realize
the Pantjasila and the Pantja Azimat Revolusi completely.
The Indonesian Revolution Council in its daily activities will be
represented by a Presidium of the Council which will consist of the Com-
mandant and Deputy Commandants of the September 30th Movement.
3.	With the falling of the entire authority of the State into the
hands of the Indonesian Revolution Council, the Dwikora Cabinet automatic-
ally assumes a decommissioned status. Until the formation of a new
Council of Ministers by the Indonesian Revolution Council former ministers
are dutybound to carry out routine tasks, and to preserve order in their
respective departments. They are prohibited from appointing new employees
and from taking actions which may have broad consequences. All former
ministers are obliged to give a full account to the Indonesian Revolution
Council along with the new ministers to be appointed by the Indonesian
Revolution Council.
4.	As instruments of the Indonesian Revolution Council, there are to
be established in the regions, Provincial Revolution Councils (with a maxi-
mum membership of 25), District Revolution Councils (with a maximum member-
ship of 15), Subdistrict Revolution Councils (with a maximum membership of124
10), and Village Revolution Councils (with a maximum membership of 7).
They are to be composed of civilian and military personnel who unreservedly
support the September 30th Movement.
These Regional Revolution Councils constitute the highest authority in
the regions concerned. At the provincial and district levels they are
assisted in their work by the respective Bodies for Day to Day Administra-
tion (BPH) while at the subdistrict and village levels they are assisted
by the local National Front Leadership composed of individuals who unre-
servedly support the September 30th Movement..
5.	The Presidium of the Indonesian Revolution Council consists of the
Commandant and Deputy Commandants of the September 30th Movement. The
Commandant and Deputy Commandants of the September 30th Movement are Chair-
man and Vice Chairmen of the Indonesian Revolution Council.
6.	Immediately after the establishment of Regional Revolution Councils
the Revolution Council Chairman concerned must report to the Revolution
Council one level higher concerning the full composition of the Council
membership. Provincial Revolution Councils must acquire written approval
from the Presidium of the Indonesian Revolution Council. District Revolu-
tion Councils must acquire written approval from the Provincial Revolution
Councils and the Subdistrict and Village Revolution Councils must acquire
written approval from the District Revolution Councils.
Djakarta, October 1, 1965. Conmand of the September 30th Movement.
Commandant:	Lieutenant Colonel Untung. Deputy Commandant:	Brigadier
General Supardjo; Deputy Commandant:	Flight Lieutenant Colonel Heru;
Deputy Commandant:	Sea Colonel Sunardi, Deputy Commandant:	Adjunct Senior
Police Commissioner Anwas. Announced by the Information Section of the
September 30th Movement on October 1, 1965.'
3.	"Decision No. 1 Concemingthe Composition of the Indonesian Revolution
Council
(Text as read over the Djakarta Radio at approximately 2:05 p.m.,October 1.)
I.	Fulfilling the provisions of Decree No. 1 concerning the Formation of
The Indonesian Revolution Council, herewith follows the full membership
of the Indonesian Revolution Council:
1.	Lieutenant Colonel UNTUNG, Chairman of the Council.
2.	Brigadier General SUPARDJO, Vice-Chairman of the Council.
3.	Flight Lieutenant Colonel HERU, Vice-Chairman of the Council.
4.	Sea Colonel SUNARDI, Vice-Chairman of the Council.
5.	Adjunct Senior Police Commissioner ANWAS, Vice-Chairman of the Council.
6.	OMAR DHANI, Air Vice Marshal.
7.	SUTJIPTO JUD0DIHARDJ0, Police Inspector General.
8.	E. MA.RTADINATA, Vice Admiral.
9.	DR. SUBANDRIO.
10.	DR. J. LEIMENA.
11.	IR. SURACHMAN (Nationalist Group).125
12.	FATAH JASIN (Religious Group).
13.	K. H. SIRADJUDDIN ABBAS (Religious Group).
14.	TJUGITO (Communist Group).
15.	ARUDJI KARTAWINATA.
16.	SIAUW GIOK TJHAN.
17.	SUMARNO S. H.
18.	HARTONO, Major General, Navy Marine Corps.
19.	SUTARTO, Police Brigadier General.
20.	ZAINI MANSUR (Central Youth Front).
21.	JAHJA S. H. (Central Youth Front).
22.	SUKATNO (Central Youth Front).
23.	BAMBANG KUSNOHADI (PPMI).
24.	ABDUL RAHMAN (Deputy Secretary General of the National Front).
25.	HARD0J0 (University Student).
26.	BASUKI RACHMAT, Major General.
27.	RYACUDU, Brigadier General.
28.	SOLICHIN, Brigadier General.
29.	AMIR MAHMUD, Brigadier General.
30.	ANDI RIVAI, Brigadier General.
31.	SUJ0N0, Flight Major.
32.	LEO WATTIMENA, Air Commodore.
33.	MRS. UTAMI SURJADARMA.
34.	A. 1ATIEF, Colonel.
35.	UMAR WIRAHADIKUSUMAH, Major General.
36.	MRS. SUPENI.
37.	MRS. MAHMUDAH MAUARDI.
38.	MRS. SUHARTI SUWARTO.
39.	FATAH, Colonel.
40.	SUHERMAN, Colonel.
41.	SAMSU SUTJIPTO, Sea Colonel.
42.	SUHARDI (Journalist).
43.	DRS. SUMART0N0, Senior Police Commissioner.
44.	DJUNTA SUWARDI.
45.	KARIM D. P. (Indonesian Journalists Association).
II. The Chairman and the Vice-Chairmen of the Council constitute the
Presidium of the Indonesian Revolution Council which between two
plenary sessions of the Council acts on behalf of the Council.
III. All civilian members of the Indonesian Revolution Council are given
the right to use the military insignia of Lieutenant Colonel or
equivalent rank. Indonesian Revolution Council members from the
Armed Forces group maintain their previous ranks with the exception
that those higher than Lieutenant Colonel must use the same ranks
as that of the Commandant of the September 30th Movement, namely
that of Lieutenant Colonel or the equivalent.
COMMAND OF THE SEPTEMBER 30th MOVEMENT
Chairman of the Indonesian Revolution Council
Signed
(Lieutenant Colonel Untung)
DJAKARTA, October 1, 1965.
Announced by the Information Section of the September 30th Movement
on October 1, 1965.126
4. "Decision No. 2 concerning Demotion and Promotion in Rank"
(Text as read over the Djakarta radio at approximately 2:10 p .m • on
October 1.)
1.	As all authority in the State of the Republic of Indonesia on
September 30, 1965, was taken over by the September 30th Movement and as
its Commandant is an Officer with the rank of Lieutenant Colonel, all
ranks and equivalent grades in the Armed Forces of the Republic of
Indonesia above that of Lieutenant Colonel are herewith declared invalid.
All officers who were previously of a rank higher than Lieutenant
Colonel must state their loyalty in written form to the Indonesian
Revolution Council and only thereafter have they the right to use the
rank of Lieutenant Colonel. Lieutenant Colonel is the highest rank in
the Armed Forces of the State of the Republic of Indonesia.
2.	Because the September 30th Movement is basically a movement of
lower-ranking Soldiers, especially of Enlisted Men and NCO's, it is
herewith stated that all Enlisted Men and NCO's of all Armed Forces of
the Republic of Indonesia who support the September 30th Movement are
promoted one grade above those they occupied before September 30, 1965.
3.	All Enlisted Men and NCO's who took a direct part in the purge
against the members of the Council of Generals on the evening of September
30, 1965,in Djakarta are promoted to two grades above those they occupied
prior to September 30, 1965.
Commandant of the September 30th Movement/Chairman of the Indonesian
Revolution Council.
Signed:	Lieutenant Colonel Untung. Djakarta, October 1, 1965.
Announced by the Information Section of the September 30th Movement
on October 1, 1965.AFFILIATIONS OF INDONESIAN REVOLUTION COUNCIL MEMBERS
Name	Official Position	Party	Ethnic Group
*1. Lieutenant-Colonel UNTUNG	Commander, 1st Battalion, Tjakrabirawa Regiment	-	Javanese
*2. Brig. Gen. SUPARDJO	Commander, Fourth Combat Command (Uest Kalimantan)	•ft	Javanese
*3. Flight Lieutenant-	?	•ft	Javanese
Colonel HERU ATMODJO			
*4. Sea Colonel SUNARDI	?	-	Javanese
5. Adjunct Senior Police	?		?
Commissioner ANNAS			
6. Air Vice-Marshal OMAR DHANI	Minister/Commander of the Air Force	-	Javanese
7. Brig. Gen. SUTJIPTO JUDODIHARDJO	Minister/Commander of the Police	-	Javanese
8. Vice-Admiral R. EDDY MARTAD1NATA	Minister/Commander of the Navy	m	Sundanese
9. Dr. SUBANDRIO	First Deputy Prime Minis- ter /Foreign Minister	(nominally P.N.I.)	Javanese
10. Dr. J. LEIMENA	Second Deputy Prime Minister/Coordinating Minister for Distribution	Parkindo	Ambonese
11. Ir. SURACHMAN	Minister for People's Irrigation	P.N.I. (secretary- general)	Javanese
12. K. H. FATAH JASIN	Minister of State	N.U.	Javanese
13. K. H. SIRADJUDDIN ABBAS	-	PERTI (chairman)	Minangkabau
14. TJUGITO	Member of Political Bureau of KOTRAR	Coranunist	Javanese
15. ARUDJI KARTAWINATA	Chairman of the DPRGR	P.S.I.I. (chairman)	Sundanese
16. SIAUW GIOK TJHAN	-	BAPERKI (chairman)	Chinese
An asterik indicates the person concerned took an active part in the October
1, 1965, coup, so far as is known.128
Name	Official Position	Party	Ethnic Group
17. SUMARNO, S. H.	Coordinating Minister for Finance	P.N.I.	Javanese
18. Maj. Gen. (Marine Corps) HARTONO	Commander of the Marine Corps		Javanese
19. Police Brig. Gen. SUTARTO.	?	-	Javanese
20. ZAINI MANSUR	Central Youth Front (Presidium member)	P.N.I. (General Chairman Gera' kan Pemuda Marhaenis)	Palembang m
21. JAHJA, S. H.	Central Youth Front (Presidium member)	N.U. (General Secretary)	Javanese?
22. SUKATNO	Central Youth Front (Presidium member)	Comnunist (Secretary- General Pe- muda Rakjat)	Javanese
23. BAMBANG KUSNOHADI	P.P.M.I. (Chairman)	P.N.I. (Chairman of the G.M.N.I.)	Javanese
24. ABDUL RACHMAN	National Front (Deputy Secretary General)	N.U.	?
25. HARDOJO	D.P.R.G.R. (Youth) Representative)	Communist	Javanese
26. Maj. Gen. BASUKI RACHMAT	Commander, East Java (VIII) Territorial Division		Javanese
27. Brig. Gen. RYACUDU	Commander, West Kali- mantan (XII) Terri- torial Division	mm	Ambonese
28. Brig. Gen. SOLICHIN	Commander, South and Southeast Sulawesi (XIV) Territorial Division	**	Sundanese
29. Brig. Gen. AMIR MACHMUD	Commander, South Kalimantan (X) Terri- torial Division	••	Sundanese?
30, Brig. Gen. ANDI RIVAI	Governor of South and Southeast Sulawesi	-	Buginese?129
Name	Official Position	Party
*31. Flight Major SUJONO Commander of the Guard
at Halim Airbase
32. Air Commodore LEO
WATTIMENA
Commander of the AURX
Operations Command/Halim
Airbase; Chief of Staff.
Mandala Slaga Command
33. Mrs. UIAMI
SURJADARMA
Rector of Respublica
University (BAPERKI)
*34. Colonel A. IATIEF Commander, 1st Infantry
Brigade, Djakarta Raya (V)
Territorial Division
35. Maj. Gen. UMAR	Conmander, Djakarta Raya
WIRAHADIKUSUMAH	(V) Territorial Division
36.	Mrs. SUPENI	Third Deputy Foreign	P.N.I.
Minister
37.	Mrs. MAHMUDAH
MAWARDI
N.U.
(Ketua
Muslimat)
38.	Mrs. SUHARTI
SUWARTO
Coanxunlst
(2nd
Chairwoman
GERHANI)
39.	Colonel FATAH
*40. Colonel SUHERMAN
41.	Sea Colonel
SJAMSU SUTJIPTO
42.	SUHARDI
43.	Senior Police Com-
missioner, Drs.
SUMARTONO
44.	DJUNTA SUWARDI
45.	A. KARIM D. P.
First Assistant to the
Chief of Staff, Central
Java (VII) Territorial
Division
Chief of the Navy
Information Centre
Head of Legal Depart-
ment P.W.I. (Central)
Chief of Police, East
Kalimantan (XIV)
Police District
Chairman P.W.I.
I.
Ethnic Group
Javanese
Ambonese
Javanese
Sundane se ?
Sundanese
Javanese
Javanese
Javanese
?
Javanese
Javanese
Javanese?
Javanese
Javanese?
Bugine seTHE HARIAN RAKJAT EDITORIAL AND PARTY
ATTITUDES DURING THE COUP
"Without reflecting, ingenuously forgetting that they were
visible for all to see; all they thought about was how to
get a look themselves."—Nagarakrtagama (59, III, 6)
Following is the text of the editorial appearing in the
PKI newspaper Harian Raklat on October 2, which was used as
initial evidence that the Communists had masterminded the coup
of October 1*
The September 30th Movement
It has happened that on the 30th of September measures
were taken to safeguard President Sukarno and the Indonesian
Republic from a coup by a so-called Generals' Council. Ac-
cording to what has been announced by the September 30th
Movement, which is headed by Lt. Col. Untung of a Tjakra-
birawa battalion, the action taken to preserve President
Sukarno and the Indonesian Republic from the Generals'
Council coup is patriotic and revolutionary.
Whatever the justification that may have been used by
the Generals' Council in its attempt, the staging of a coup
is a condemnable and counter-revolutionary act.
We the People can fully comprehend what Lt. Col. Untung
has asserted in carrying out his patriotic movement.
But however the case may be, this is an internal Army
affair. On the other hand, we the People who are conscious
of the policy and duties of the revolution are convinced of
the correctness of the action taken by the September 30th
movement to preserve the revolution and the People.
The sympathy and support of the People is surely on the
side of the September 30th Movement. We call on all the
People to intensify their vigilance and be prepared to con-
front all eventualities.
As the reader has probably appreciated in perusing the
above declaration, it is no gem of style or clarity. This is
quite surprising, for Harian Rakjat prided itself on well written
and cogently argued editorials; indeed, it had recently taken
to publishing collections of polemics between itself and rival
journals, both sides being presented without deletion or comment
in the well warranted expectation that Harian Rakjat's arguments
would be found more impressive than its rivals. (l) Here, how-
ever, we have a curiously disjointed piece* There are phrases
of caution—"according to what has been announced by the Septem-
ber 30th movement", "whatever the Justification that may have
131132
been used by the Generals' Council"/ "what Lt. Col. Untung has
asserted", "but however the case may be, this is an internal
Army affair". These are mixed with unvarnished assertions of
approval—"[Untung's] patriotic movement", "we ... are convinced
of the correctness of the action", "the sympathy and support of
the People are surely on the side of the September 30th Move-
ment". The style is jerky and uneven. The phrases of the same
sentence often do not fit well together, as if there had been
much erasing and altering, and not much effort to make over the
result into a stylistically coherent whole. Which is. probably
in fact how the editorial was composed.
The first problem in evaluating the piece is to determine
when it was written. The issue in which it appeared would, if
it came out on a normal schedule, have been on the streets in
the early post-dawn hours of October 2nd. At 8:45 p.m. the
night before General Suharto had broadcast the success of the
counter-coup. Are we to think those responsible for the journal
were still so in the dark about what had happened (and what was
likely to) that they would go to press with such an editorial
after that announcement? This is hardly probable* moreover,
although the editorial seems unclear as to just what the extent
of Untung's action was, it gives no inkling that its success is
questioned. It would seem likely, therefore, that the issue of
the 2nd was set not in the pre-dawn hours of that day or during
the night before, but on the afternoon of the 1st, when Untung
still controlled the official news media and when it still ap-
peared to outsiders that he was completely in command. And
indeed, both the normal publishing practices of Harian Raklat
and the peculiar circumstances of October 1 insured that this
wa s so.
We know that the Djakarta garrison commander, Maj. Gen.
Umar Wirahadikusumah, issued an order dated 6:00 p.m. on the
1st to the effect that no publications of any kind were to ap-
pear without permission of the Djakarta war authority, save for
the Army newspapers Berita Yudha and Angkatan Bersendjata, whose
buildings were to be guarded to ensure that they did come out. (2)
Six o'clock, we will remember, was exactly the time the rebel-
held RRI went off the air—thus the first point at which there
was public indication that the coup had failed. Given the Army's
feelings toward the Communists in general, and the specific con-
cern created by the discovery that the AURI-armed youths on
Medan Merdeka were Pemuda Rakjat, it would have been a prime
concern of the counter-coup forces after taking control of the
RRI to prevent the publishing and distribution, particularly to
the still uncertain provinces, of material that might be inflam-
matory. It is therefore quite likely that the Harian Rakjat
office and plant, which is located in Kota on Pintu Besar, was
occupied by government troops at or not long after the time
that Gen. Umar gave this order.133
In spite of this probable early seizure of the press,
and in spite of the fact that the Communists must have realized
the compromising character of the paper at least by the time of
Suharto's broadcast, the incriminating October 2nd issue still
saw the light of day. The most obvious explanation, that of an
Army falsification, can be safely rejected:	Everything is
written in the normal Harlan Rakjat jargon, and the competence
of the PKI's enemies at falsifying party documents has always
been abysmally low. A second possibility is that the Army ran
off an issue that had already been set but was being held pending
clarifying developments, or that it saw to the distribution of
papers that had already been printed but not yet sent out.
Troops occupying the press would hardly dare do this on their
own initiative: it would mean that copy was sent higher up, pre-
sumably to whomever had been put in charge of press and propa-
ganda, and he had seen the excellent possibilities of the issue
for compromising the party, particularly if Harian Rakjat was
not to be allowed to speak again. (3) It would not have been
dangerous to publish the issue, since the Harlan Rakjat edi-
torial for October 2nd was in itself not inflammatory:	in fact
the core of its message, the last sentence—"We call on all the
People to intensify their vigilance and be prepared to confront
all eventualities"—was standard and well-known HR-ese for "sit
tight and stay out of trouble". However, it is still unlikely
that, had the Army itself been responsible for the distribution
of the paper, it would have made it available to the public ex-
cept under controlled conditions. If we knew when, how, and to
whom the issue of October 2 appeared we would probably be able
to answer this, but we do not. The paper did, however, come
out in Djakarta, which means it was not a matter of copies hav-
ing been put on trains leaving the city (if any did) before the
coup was broken and therefore being impossible for the Commun-
ists to recall. (4)
The third possibility is that the issue was completed
and judged safe to publish sometime before HR was seized, that
the distribution process had already started, and that no oppor-
tunity was given the Communists to recall it. We can actually
calculate the paper's probable time of publication with some
precision, inasmuch as it contains as a stop-press the announce-
ment of Pranoto's appointment as caretaker of the Army. As we
have already suggested in describing what we think to have been
the course of the coup, the Pranoto appointment was made at
Halim about 1:30 p.m. on the afternoon of the 1st. It is not,
however, announced in the 2:00 Untung broadcasts, nor does it
appear in the afternoon Indonesian-language Antara bulletin,
which was closed off at 3:30. Quite likely the.afternoon bulle-
tin only Just missed it, for HR credits Antara with the news,
and it is the first item in the Indonesian-language bulletin of
the morning of the 2nd. The news might have been phoned down
from the Antara office, but given the chaotic state of communi-
cations it is more likely it was brought by messenger. There-
fore we have the time needed after 3:30 to receive the item atAntara, phone or bring the news from DJI. Antara to Pintu Besar
(not so long on a motorbike), set the items as is into the first
page (5) and insert the stop-press, which had meanwhile arrived.
One would guess it was about 4:30 or 5:00 p.m. when all this was
completed. Either the presses started rolling then or the issue
was held up pending further clarification of the situation—it
had already been delayed beyond the normal Friday press time--
until the army took over around 6:00.
It is only logical to suppose that if the HR editors
felt confident enough of the situation to go to press at all
they would have wanted to get the paper out as soon as possible
in order to make sure that the party followers knew how to re-
spond to the emergency. Even if they did not—and there is an
almost unbelievably casual air about the October 2 issue in
spite of all the coup group decrees on the first page, so that
one has the feeling that, however the HR editors may have seen
the game that was being played that day they did not think it
to be one of life and death—they still may have started the
normal distributing process for Djakarta before the counter-coup
group moved in. Again, the answer depends on knowing when,
where, and how the issue appeared. We can well imagine that
copies were held back at the press once the rebel radio went
off the air, and certainly distribution must have ceased—unless
the Army itself took a hand—when troops occupied HR headquar-
ters. The Communists must have wished sorely that they could
recall the distributed copies once they gained a notion of the
real situation: but it is doubtful the Army would have been so
cooperative as to allow them to. Quite likely the military, on
prior orders or on seeing the editorial supporting Untung, hauled
the HR staff off to jail or held it incommunicado, and therefore
no orders could be gotten out to prevent the circulation of the
incriminating issue. But whatever the means by which the Octo-
ber 2 Harian Rakjat came to appear before the public, it is an
invaluable document in that it provides the historian with some
idea--which he could otherwise hardly hope to have in any reli-
able form--of Just what the party's attitude was during the
brief span of Untung's control.
In considering why the newspaper was set then rather
than closer to the time when it would normally appear on the
streets—and thus after the collapse of the coup—we should bear
in mind two things. First of all, the PKI journal was not in-
tended as a newsy newspaper, up-to-the-minute and hot-off-the-
press like, say, Warta Bhakti. Rather, it served primarily as
a guide to party members all over the country on the central
leadership's attitude toward current issues? it also provided
information on PKI-allied mass organizational activities and
policies, linked outlying branches and gave them a sense of im-
portance by including news of regional and local party activi-
ties, and devoted a good deal of space—usually most or all of
the third page—to feature articles and essays of ideological
interest. Considering the usual flavor of the Djakarta press,13 5
its contents were quite sober and solid? qualities which re-
flected both a desire to avoid provocation and a conscious
effort to raise the "cultural level" of party members, extend
readership to the non-Communist educated, and enhance the de-
sired public image of respectability and responsibility. It
had the largest circulation of any newspaper in Indonesia.
For PKI members and sympathizers, Harian Rakjat was a
journal of policy, ideas, and record on party matters. As such
it was not just for today or tomorrow—indeed, fortunately so,
for what with distance and transportation problems it was often
a good long time before the farther reaches received their
copies. Because it set the party line, and because it was meant
as a standard reference and source of authority, it followed the
practice, common to the central organs of Communist parties, of
putting out only one edition a day. Because of the limited
capacity of the press, and because of the desire to get copies
of the paper out to the provinces—especially on the train to
Central and East Java—so that provincial responses to central
decisions would be as well coordinated and prompt as possible,
printing of the single, huge HR edition began much earlier than
that of other Djakarta morning papers.
Secondly, we must note that October 1 was a Friday—
a half-day normally. Thus time Was short, particularly since
HR usually published especially early in order that the weekend
issue of the paper would reacn the important outlying branches
and distributors on Saturday morning—for otherwise they might
not receive them until Monday. Consequently, the Saturday
morning Harian Rakjat was customarily put to bed the afternoon
before: news from Friday evening (unless reflecting pre-releases
or leaks) would not be included in the paper till Monday. HR
could, of course, have delayed printing its October 2 issue in
view of the uncertainty of the situation or, far better yet in
retrospect, it could have had a "breakdown" at the plant and
not published at all. Here, however, the need to avoid provo-
cation by making a mistake in what the paper said conflicted
with the need to avoid provocation by a mistake in what the
members did. In the capital itself discipline, word-of-mouth
instruction, and the informing of local party and mass organi-
zation offices would presumably hold people in line, the more
so since the rebel-held radio broadcast for people to keep order
and await further announcements. But in the provinces Communists
would undoubtedly be confused, and, particularly if left to
their own resources until Monday, might get themselves unfor-
tunately involved. Therefore it was important to get out the
"sit tight and wait" message? and indeed, this was also stressed
in "Tjekak-aos", the customary podjok (5) on the first page,
which says? "You can never guard revolutionary unity and in-
tensify vigilance too strongly"—or, in non-HR parlance, "sit
Just as tight as can be."
But as we have seen the editorial also expresses clear
sympathy for Untung? and this is underlined in "Tjaberawit",136
the other, third-page podjok:	"The 30 September movement has
taken steps against the Generals' Council. The support and
sympathy of the People are on the side of the 30 September Move-
ment." Not Wong Tjilik's usual clever aside, but a pedestrian
imitation of the editorial, from which, we might suspect, it
has simply been taken over. Why does the paper, if it does not
wish to go unnecessarily far out on a limb, nonetheless express
itself so unequivocally? Compare, for example, the masterful
ambiguity of the PNI executive's statement given in the Antara
Indonesian-language bulletin of the morning.of the 2nd and you
will realize how inexpertly the PKI paper handles the situation:
The session of the DPP PNI enlarged to include the
leadership of the Gerakan Massa Marhaen [the association of
Nationalist mass organizations]3' has made the following
decisions after having studied the latest developments in
the capital:
1.	To remain firm and loyal to the Great Leader of the
Revolution/Father of Marhaenism Bung Karno and to be ready
to implement every command issued by the Great Leader of the
Revolution/Father of Marhaenism Bung Karno to safeguard the
revolution.
2.	To recognize only Bung Karno's leadership of the revolu-
tion and that of bodies recognized as faithful, loyal, and
obedient to the Command of Bung Karno, the voice of the
Indonesian common masses.
3.	To express deep appreciation to the Soldiers*3) who have
shown their loyalty in safeguarding the Great Leader of the
Revolution/Father of Marhaenism Bung Karno.
4.	In this connectionc) the entire membership of the PNI-FM
within the structure of regional councils, districts, and
branch groups, together with all members of the Gerakan
Massa Marhaen, are declared in a state of preparedness to
take revolutionary actions together with other progressive
revolutionary forces, under the leadership of Bung Karno,
to ensure the progress of the revolution.
5.	To support every action^) taken to purge the apparatus
of the revolution of boguse) elements and those who would
undermine the authority of the Great Leader of the Revolu-
tion Bung Karno.
6.	To instruct all members of the PNI-FM to be vigilant
towards^) the provocations of Nekolim henchmen and counter^
revolutionary elements.
We might have expected Njoto, chairman of the Harian Rakjat
editorial board, to have done a better job at fence sitting: but
he was in Medan with Subandrio. Aidit was at Halim* Lukman,
Sakirman, Peris Pardede,and perhaps all other Politburo members
except the relatively low-ranking Amir Anwar Sanusi and Njono
were out of town. Partly by luck and partly through its own
action the Untung group had struck at a moment when the PKI was
minus most of its top leadership. The responsible Harlan Rakjat
editor, M. Naibaho, was an experienced and competent journalist,but the requirements of this situation were evidently beyond
him and beyond such party leaders as he managed to consult. (6)
But perhaps we should not be so hard on those who
fathered the October 2nd editorial. After all, it is unfair to
compare this document with the PNI statement, for the latter
was issued, so the Antara item announces, on Friday evening--
Plum1at malam—and thus those who composed it had time to see
the capital changing hands and to realize that if they were
going to declare themselves they had better so word their state-
ment that it would appear to the final victor that they were
loyal to his side. How clever of the PNI to choose its words
so carefully* how wise of it to have waited before making any
comment on a day when the mere timing of a remark could be so
compromising. Once again, an example of the PNI's sure instinct
for coming down at the right time on the winning side.
Or was it? On October 10 General Sukendro's muck raking
newspaper Api published a report which claimed that before 10
a.m. on October 1, "according to a reliable source", there had
been a meeting of the PNI executive which had decided to support
the September 30th Movement and which had issued a statement to
that effect signed by PNI secretary general Surachman. This
statement, Api claimed, had been taken by Satyagraha, a party
prominent anaeditor of the central PNI journal Suluh Indonesia,
to the office of the Antara news service sometime during midday
(siang), where it was seen by a number of Journalists.
The PNI executive denied Api1s claim immediately:	on
October 11 it issued a statement signed by general chairman Ali
Sastroamidjojo, vice chairman Ruslan Abdulgani, and vice secre-
tary general John Lumingkewas saying that this was a "false and
slanderous report" aimed at splitting the PNI. (7) The next
day Api returned to the fray, however; it said the meeting it
referred to had been a session of the DPP-PNI enlarged to in-
clude the Gerakan Massa Marhaen* that Satyagraha had taken the
statement to Antara about 11;00 a.m., and that it had been read
out to the Journalists there, the radicals among whom (Api men-
tions a. Karim D.P. of the PNI and S. Tahsin of Partindo) it
pleased mightily. (8) The Api article also quoted as part of
the incriminating document Point 3 of the PNI statement which
we have reported as appearing in Antara. The newspaper quoted
again from the statement in another attack on the PNI in the
issue of 14 October; but this time the version is a bit differ-
ent from ours—Point 5 reads; "To support every movement or
action taken to purge the apparatus of the revolution...."
Api1s claims were once again hotly denied in a statement
signed for the DPP PNI by John Lumingkewas and dated October
15. (9) There had been a meeting of the PNI executive and the
leadership of the Gerakan Massa Marhaen on the 1st, yes; but it
had not taken place until 10;30 a.m. It had been held at the
auditorium of the Coordinating Department of Agriculture138
(Kompertag) building at Salemba Raya 16, following a ceremony,
led by Surachman in his capacity as Minister of People's Irri-
gation, which inaugurated the Council for the Abolition of the
Algemeen Water Reglement (the colonial irrigation laws) and the
Council for the Drafting of a National Irrigation Law. (10) A
goodly number of the PNI leaders were there—their names are
given in the statement—although the very top leaders were, like
those of the PKI, mostly out of town. (11) A declaration was
discussed and drawn up collectively in accordance with such
facts as. were, at handy the meeting closed at 11:30 a.m., and
those present were told to try and collect further information.
At 6:00 p.m. another meeting of the PNI and GMM leadership be-
gan, this time in DJI. Sindanglajay it decided to reject the
nomination of PNI members to the Revolutionary Council. All
statements issued, the refutation continued, were put out by
the PNI executivey and the Gerakan Massa Marhaen was not author-
ized to make any declaration on its own. At 8:00 p.m. Satyagraha
took the statement(s?) to Antara* at 11:30 it was (they were?)
taken by John Lumingkewas, Bachtiar Salim Haloho, and Hadji
Mohammad Djambek on behalf of the DPP PNI plenum to Colonel
Jogaswara of KOSTRAD.
Now that there was a ceremony at the Department of
Agriculture building on the morning (pagi) of the 1st we know,
for Patriot, the Medan PNI newspaper, gave an account of it in
its issue of October 6. It did concern the abolition of the
colonial irrigation laws, and Surachman gave a pretty little
speech discussing the completion of this bit of business from
the old revolution, while down the road (for Salemba is the
main thoroughfare out to Halim air base) a new upheaval was in
the making.
There were a number of PNI leaders at the gathering as
a matter of course, for the Department of Agriculture was a PNI
strongholdy (12) no doubt more Nationalist prominents were sum-
moned or, knowing the ceremony was scheduled, came over to dis-
cuss what should be done in the face of the Untung announcement.
Exactly when the ceremony took place, and whether the PNI session
preceded or succeeded it—one would think the latter—is not
really important. The thing is that the PNI meeting must have
been held while the coup group was clearly in command. The
gathering drew up a statement, as the PNI refutation declared:
the question is whether it was the same as the one we have
quoted and when, if ever, it was released.
The issue of Patriot which provides the account of the
irrigation ceremony also contains a statement by the PNI execu-
tive. At first glance it looks like the one to be found in
Antara, but on closer inspection some interesting differences
are apparent, one of them being that the version of Point 5 is
the same as that quoted by Api,139
Let us take the principal divergencies as they occur in
the text. You will note, for example, that in the first sentence
there is a point we have marked a). Here, in the Patriot ver-
sion, there follows "which took place in Djakarta on Friday
October 1 1965." Why should this be missing from the Antara
version?—after all, it was stated that the declaration was issued
Friday evening, and the normal assumption would be that the
meeting which decided it took place before midnight and the be-
ginning of the 2nd. (13) But perhaps the reason was less logi-
cal than psychological:	perhaps the question of time was an
embarrassing one, and the PNI would rather have as little atten-
tion drawn to it as possible. Indeed, the matter of time was
awkward, for according to Patriot the party issued the statement
not Friday malam but sore, that is, in the latter part of the
afternoon.
The difference between malam and sore is of importance
in evaluating Point 3 of the PNI statement. There, b), the word
perad1urit is used for those who rescued the President. This
was an odd choice, for the normal reference to a military person
in the political language of the day was anggota Angkatan Ber-
send lata or (specifically for the army) anggota Angkatan Darat.(14)
Perad jurlt had both a lower-rank and a heroic connotation. It
is not likely the word would have been used to refer to military
preservers of the status quo, but it might well have been used
to mirror the common-soldier-against-the-decadent-hierarchy
appeal which Untung expressed. And who else but the Untung
group could it have referred to?—for the statement says the
soldiers telah menjelamatkan have safeguarded (or taken into
safekeeping) the President. Before malam on the 1st there was
only one group to which this phrase could apply, as Api did not
fail to point out in quoting this point.
In Point 4 we have noted, c), the phrase "in this con-
nection" (dalam hubungan ini). In the Patriot version it reads
"within the context of confronting all eventualities" (dalam
rangka menghadapi segala kemungkinan). This is one of a number
of small changes the total effect of which is to reduce the
amount of militant and Untung-sounding terminology in the docu-
ment.
In Point 5, d), the Patriot version reads, instead of
"to support every action" (mendukung setiap tindakan), "to sup-
port every movement or action" (mendukung tiap gerakan atau
tindakan)? and, as also did not escape Api1s eye, there was only
one thing that called itself a "movement" that day. Moreover,
e), the word "bogus" (gadungan) was used, before the post-coup
reaction reversed all ideological terminology, solely in attack-
ing those held insufficiently revolutionary? Marhaenis gadungan
had been an epithet almost constantly on the lips of the Ali-
Surachman PNI leadership during the summer of 1965 in their
campaign to jettison the conservative Hardi-Hadisubeno group.
It was not a term ever used by the PNI in criticizing groups tothe left of it; and given the radical posture which the coup
group assumed vis-a-vis the army command, the term was not with-
out implication. Finally, in Point 6 it might be observed, f),
that the Patriot version's instruction to PNI adherents to
"constantly intensify their vigilance" was changed in the Antara
version to the more modest "be vigilant"—and rightly so, for
it is obvious the party had not been very much on its toes to
start out with.
The October 15 PNI denial of Api's charges mentioned,
among other things, that the Gerakan Massa Marhaen had not been
authorized to make any separate declaration. Presumably this
was in response to rumors that there had been such a statement,
and so there was, for the text is also given in the Patriot
issue of October 6s
The Central Board of the Gerakan Massa Marhaen, con-
sisting of the Kesatuan Buruh Marhaenis, Petani, Pemuda
Marhaenis, Gerakan Siswa Nasional Indonesia, Gerakan Mahasiswa
Nasional Indonesia, Gerakan Wanita Marhaenis, Lembaga
Kebudajaan Nasional, Djamiatul Muslimin, Ikatan Sardjana
Rakjat Indonesia, and Gerakan Nelajan Marhaenis, hereby in-
structs its entire membership in all Indonesia to execute
the instruction of the DPP PNI-Front Marhaenis of October
1, 1965, with all the consequences thereof.
The Indonesian revolution under the leadership of H.E.
President/Great Leader of the Revolution/Father of Marhaen-
ism Bung Karno demands the greatest sacrifices of all the
Marhaenist masses in order to safeguard the Indonesian revo-
lution.
This is a clarion call to do nothing, of course? but given the
slant of the PNI statement whose implementation it demands, it
is hardly unfavorable to Untung. The statement was signed by
ten leaders of PNI mass-organizations? nearly all of them were
listed in the October 15 PNI denial as attending the Department
of Agriculture meeting on the morning of October 1. (15)
Apparently what happened was that the PNI leadership,
having caucused that morning to discuss what it knew of the
affair, was sufficiently convinced that developments were pro-
mising to draw up a declaration which, while cautiously worded,
nonetheless indicated willingness to come in behind the Septem-
ber 30th Movement. Either at that meeting or just after it,
the representatives of the association of mass organizations
drew up their statement, designed as part of what would become
a flurry of declarations of support from PNI-affiliated bodies,
in the usual manner of Indonesian political campaigns of sup-
port. It was not intended to make the statement public until
Sukarno had been heard from, for his continuing silence might
indicate the September 30th Movement was running into some
difficulty, and anyway the PNI had never moved except in Sukarno's
shadow and did not intend to start now.141
But some of those attending the meeting were so enthused
and so anxious to display their inside knowledge that they
bruited the statement about. Satyagraha took a copy over to
Antara to be held until word came to make it public; he could
not resist showing it to his friend Karim and other radicals
whom he knew would share his delight that the PNI was coming in
against the generals. In late afternoon the moment came when
the PNI felt it safe to issue the statement, and this was too
late for it to come into the afternoon Antara bulletin, which,
as we will remember, closed off at 3:30. By about 6:00, when
the RRI shut down in the face of Suharto's ultimatum, it began
to dawn on the PNI leaders that a dreadful mistake had been
made. A frantic scurry, and the second meeting was held. The
statement, of course, would have to be redeemed from Antara;
how fortunate that it had been too late for the afternoon bulle-
tin. But alas, it could not be completely forgotten, for copies
of the statement had already been sent out of town. (16) The
only hope was to confuse the opposition by having Antara publish
a doctored version which—most important—indicated it was issued
after Untung's fall. In addition, a statement was drawn up
washing the PNI's hands of participation in the Revolutionary
Council, which was to be the major content of Suluh Indonesia
the next morning. (17)
The late-evening visit to KOSTRAD by the party heads
was probably part of this effort to secure at least a neutral
public position, for we will remember that after Untung's fall
military permission had to be obtained for any publication.
Since the Suluh Indonesia issue which appeared on the morning
of the 2nd contained the denial of Revolutionary Council in-
volvement and thus was printed after the coup was finished, and
since it is hardly likely the PNI could or would have defied an
army order, we must assume that such permission was obtained.
What, if anything, the military knew about the party's maneuver-
ings during the day we do not know—probably they were as igno-
rant of what had been developing among the civilians in Djakarta
as they had been of the military side of the coup. However, in
view of the strong representation of the PNI on the Revolution-
ary Council and the continuing general uncertainty and confusion,
the army was willing enough to see the Nationalist paper come
out with a statement disassociating itself from the side of the
coup. Suluh Indonesia was the only paper other than the two
army journals and the fateful issue of Harian Rakjat to appear
on the morning of October 2nd: it has not been allowed to pub-
lish since.
The PNI thus fell into the same pit on October 1 as did
the PKI. Ever cautious and skilled in the evasion of issues as
the Nationalist leaders were, they had worded their declaration
more obliquely; on the other hand they went farther than the
Communists by expressing themselves in formal declarations by
party and mass organization leaders rather than through a news-
paper editorial. Fortunately, the army was sufficiently con-
cerned to secure the crucifixion of the PKI that it did not1U2
choose to broaden the scope—and thus lessen the intensity—of
the punishment by including the PNI among the publicly guilty.
Perhaps Surachman, Satyagraha and one or two other radi-
cals in the group that drew up the PNI and GMM declarations
might have been expected to go out on a limb from leftist enthu-
siasm: but how many others in that collection of seasoned oppor-
tunists could be accused of ever having taken a stand on anything
unless they were very sure that was the winning side? They did,
though, and at that in the latter part of the afternoon, when
Untung's short-lived reign was drawing to a close. For once in
their inside-track lives they had been completely excluded from
knowledge of what was really taking placer and like their equally
ill-informed colleagues in the PKI they read the available
signs completely wrong.
Moreover, the PNI leaders obviously had no conception
of the danger of the situation, hence of the fact that murder
had been done. Apparently they saw the development as a new
surge of the recent political tide, one that promised to break
the power of the general staff and the groups with which it was
identified. They wanted to make sure the generals were defeated,
and they hoped to get in on the ground floor with whatever group
the September 30th Movement represented: and so they drew up
their declaration early in the day, waiting only for a sign of
Sukarno's position to put it out. Similar attempts to clamber
on the new bandwagon were made by lesser groups of young hope-
fuls about the country, who cast aside caution, discipline, and
no doubt their lives by penning off letters to Untung on October
1 assuring him of their eager support. (18) Though the army-
controlled press saw fit to publish only samples of this re-
sponse from adherents of the PKI we can well imagine that it
was not just among the Communist—or Nationalist—ranks that
aspiring politicoes scented the sweet smell of opportunity on
that day and.acted with fatal rashness.
We must remember that the people who had any idea what
was going on during the period of Untung's dominance were very
few: they were nearly all at Halim and Kostrad, while those who
were not—emissaries, palace plotters, military negotiators—were
not discussing things with the general public. There was no
disorder, no fighting; only a minimum of soldiers were visible,
and they were convinced they were protecting the President from
a coup and so, if questioned, strengthened the Untung story.
The Untung group controlled communications, radio, and news out-
lets. The town seemed emptied of generals and service chiefs;
how many had been arrested, summoned by the President, or gone
elsewhere was probably, given rumor, everyone's guess. Seen
from Halim, the coup group's power position might have seemed
increasingly sticky; from Kostrad it might have seemed hopeless
from the start* but seen from Djakarta there would have been no
reason to doubt that whatever was going on was not a military
success. The most that would have been noticeable werediscussions between officers and armed units in the Medan Merdeka
area during the late afternoon. But these were orderly and
nothing of what they concerned was indicated to the outside
world. The streets were not guarded, no curfew or state of
emergency was declared, there was no apparent effort at counter-
attack, no preparations for military defense; the signs of ab-
solute weakness are also those of absolute control. When then
should doubts as to Untung's power arise until, with six o'clock
and troops at the door, it is too late?
The initial announcement that a Generals' plot had been
foiled must have struck the Communists with a blade of fear that
the thing had been so close, but further with great joy that
now their dreaded opponents had been removed. High party callers
at the Aidit house would doubtless have been informed that
palace guard emissaries had come for him in the small hours of
the morning with the message that a coup was in process and the
President needed him at his side. This would have seemed com-
pletely in line with the initial radio announcements by the
Untung group and given confidence that the rest of its claims
were true. Presumably there was puzzlement as to just what the
September 30th Movement was and what had triggered the action.
But this would doubtless soon be made clear* the important
thing was that some or all of the SUAD clique (for there would
have been little doubt that Nasution and his associates were
meant) had been arrested, and one must pitch in and help make
the charges stick.
We may find a reflection of such an early reaction in
the Harian Rakjat of October 2, not in the textual matter but
in the cartoon strip at the bottom of the first page. This
strip, a regular Saturday feature of HR, contained a (usually
rather stupid) series of drawings caricaturing events for each
day of the week. The Thursday-Friday and Saturday cartoons are
reproduced here. (19) We must bear in mind that HR's weekly
cartoon strip normally depicted in its Sunday through Thursday
panels events which actually took place on the day concerned*
the Friday strip never did, but took instead an event of the
day before. It was drawn and prepared for printing too early
on Friday to include news of that day—unless, like the Untung
affair, it was a development of cardinal importance that took
place very early that morning. Here, then, we may find a clue
as to what the PKI attitude was in the first hours after the
news came through.
The most striking thing about the cartoons is the sharp-
ness of their tone. Granted a caricature is rarely subtle, and
granted the HR cartoonist was no master of his craft, they still
make their point—the generals are corrupt, they are traitorous,
and they fall—very bluntly. There is reference to the Septem-
ber 30th Movement but none to Untung, and naturally none to the
Revolutionary Council, which had not been formed yet. There is
very pointed stress, however, to another body—the CIA. This,of course, was the original Untung charge against them; but we
will notice it is not mentioned in the editorial. Nor, for that
matter, does it appear in the headline announcing Untung's move:
that, set in modest type, declares that "Lt. Col. Untung, Com-
mander of Tjakrabirawa Battalion, Rescues President and Indo-
nesian Republic from Generals' Council Coup" with the subhead
"The 30 September Movement is an Internal Army Movement." Nor,
as we have seen, is it brought up in the normally waspish
podjoks. This is odd indeed, when we consider that Harian
Rak 1at had a great fondness- for the CIA, devotedly cataloguing'
its every squirm and wriggle. The President, who had had a
thing about the Agency ever since the 1958 rebellion, had become
convinced it was behind the BPS affair of the year before, and
since then almost everything that went wrong in the country had
been labelled a tool or product of the CIA. The PKI had natur-
ally encouraged this attention, so that finally hardly a day
went by without HR discussing the subject. Indeed, on page
three of the October 2 issue we find an essay on "CIA Interven-
tion in the PRRI/Permesta Affair" as revealed in HR's standard
source of authority on the subject, The Invisible Government.
We would think a charge that the generals had been plotting with
the CIA to overthrow Sukarno would be wonderful grist for this
mill; but only the cartoonist took it up. This even though
Untung discussed the charge in detail in his announcement and
clearly did not mean it rhetorically, and even though Dhani's
order of the day offering to help purge the army made a point
of it.
To understand why this most tempting line was not pur-
sued further by Harian Rakjat, we must try to imagine how the
HR editors and those PKI heads they may have been able to con-
sult would have reacted to the events between early morning and
late afternoon on the 1st. We are guessing, of course; but
sometimes if one tries to put himself in someone else's shoes
and judge the situation on the basis of the information you be-
lieve available to him, things that seem illogical from the
"objective outsider" viewpoint suddenly begin to fit a reason-
able pattern—which hopefully is a bit closer to the truth.
For the Harian Rakjat editors, the most puzzling phe-
nomenon of the day must have been, as it was for everyone, the
fact that Sukarno did not speak. The original Untung announce-
ment had seemed predicated on the expectation that the President
would appear shortly to explain to the nation Just what was
going on; but he did not. The most likely reason to occur to
the Communists—who doubtless feared the generals' fall was too
good to be true—was probably that negotiations were going on;
that Sukarno was talking with the generals and that they were
trying to argue their way out of the mess they had got—or been
gotten—into. If they were having any success—and apparently
they were having some, else there would have been further news—
then the CIA charge must be a hard one to make stick; which one
might expect. Best, therefore, not to push it for the nonce,at least till you know what the score is and who the generals
involved are; for if some or all of them regain their power you
can be sure they will hold you responsible for CIA rumors no
matter who acted, and it would be good in that case to be able
to point out that you nobly refrained from slinging such mud
editorially at a time when others were. On the other hand, you
don't want the generals to get away with whatever line they are
feeding the President about the activity they tripped on; and
so, "Whatever the justification that may have been used by the
Generals' Council in its attempt...." Since the situation is
so uncertain, use "Generals' Council" always, not loosely
"generals" as the cartoonist did in his early optimism; for
that way if the generals wriggle out they cannot blame you for
attacking them—as they will undoubtedly deny the existence of
a council.
As for the cartoon itself, nine chances out of ten it
was forgotten in the excitement and muddle of the day. If the
HR editors reconsidered it at all they probably decided to wait
till just before going to press to determine whether or not it
would be too risky to include. There would, after all, be cer-
tain advantages to introducing comment on the CIA charge at
some point in the issue—if it later proved a bone of conten-
tion that could be gnawed further, no one can say you were so
doubtful of its truth as to ignore it at the outset; if it
turned out to be better buried it would be hard, in view of the
firmness with which others have expressed support for the CIA
charge, to make an effective fuss about two panels in a cartoon
strip in an otherwise clean issue. As we shall see, there was
reason at the time Harian Rakjat went to press for its editors
to have felt renewed optimism about the situation, though ap-
parently they did not feel sufficient certainty to use the car-
toonist's tone of jubilant attack in any of the textual material.
To find evidence for our surmised mid-morning slump in
PKI optimism concerning what was going on, we will have to leave
the Harlan Rakjat office on Pintu Besar and travel to Pintu Air
and the headquarters of Kebuda jaan Baru, an afternoon newspaper
whose editorial staff consisted of prominent PKI specialists in
intellectual affairs. (20) The journal, established only the
preceding August, printed on the same press as did HR, and so
had to finish its run before the Harlan Rakjat issue for the
next day was put to bed. Consequently it went to press quite
early for an afternoon paper—one would guess on this day about
noon.
The headline of the October 1 issue of Kebuda jaan Baru
is virtually the same as that which appeared in Harian RakjatT
"Lt. Col. Untung Safeguards President Sukarno and Indonesian
Republic from Generals' Council Coup," with the subhead "This
Incident is an Internal Army Affair." It stretches across the
page but is set in very modest type. The only news of the coup
is the initial RRI announcement; there is a cartoon and aneditorial/ but they note only the fact that it is the CPR's
anniversary. There is Ibukota, a special box for comment on
events in the capital/ but that chooses to consider only the
inflation. There is the podjok Tjananq, but that devotes itself
to quoting Aiditisms on the theme of steadfastness in the face
of adversity. The only comment Kebuda1aan Baru allows itself/
in fact# is a small item placed immediately below the RRI an-
nouncement :
The Situation
In the Capita*!
The situation in the Capital today remains calm. Life
continues as usual. The streets remain crowded with traffic,
offices continue work as usual. So also street vendors,
shops, schools, and so on.
This is less the voice of one who sees a revolutionary oppor-
tunity than of one who hopes that whatever is happening will
leave him alone. If anything, its tone is less militant than
that of the only non-leftist newspaper we have from the after-
noon of the 1st, the Christian journal Slnar Harapan?
Keep calm, increase vigilance.
Guard union and unity.
The interests of the revolution, the nation, and the state
above everything else. (21)
The day wears on* still no message from the President,
no word from Aidit. But available contacts with the elite and
with inside dopesters like Karim D.P. and Satyagraha indicate
worry on the part of the right and enthusiasm on that of the
radical nationalists, which points in an encouraging direction.
Then, too, there is the proposed declaration by the PNI, of
which the Harian Rakjat heads must have been informed almost
immediately after its display at Antara—where Satyagraha Would
have appeared, had he gone there directly after the time the
PNI claimed its meeting broke up, at about noon. Inasmuch as
the Nationalists were not known for betting on long shots, know-
ledge that they were assuming things would swing against the
generals was most reassuring: moreover, the fact that they were
preparing to declare for Untung was extremely comforting in
that the PKI would not risk isolating itself on a dangerous
political limb if it also expressed approval of Untung1s action.
Around this point, too, Dhani's order of the day is re-
ceived, supporting Untung's charges and offering to purge the
other services. Surely things must be going in the right direc-
tion? Dhani would never move unless it seemed safe and the
President ordered him to. The early afternoon announcements
are heard? Sabur's assurance of the President's health and
safety, then the setting up of the Revolutionary Council and
the other late Untung decrees. Seen in retrospect and from theoutside, the afternoon broadcasts are the efforts of a failing
movement. But as they are seen by people who had become in-
creasingly confused and worried about the situation, and who
saw no visible evidence of declining power, they appear as
steps taken from strength.
From this perspective, the announcements open up a new
possibility—perhaps lying uneasily in the back of the mind for
some time, what with the silence from the President, the pecu-
liar precedence of Untung's name, and the fact that Untung
takes action in the name of a "movement" within the Army. A
power play of some sorts a "colonels' revolt", to judge from
the presidium of the Revolutionary Council and the declaration
on ranks. The list of members of the Council is weird, but
then so is the present Cabinet? as far as can be checked people
appointed to the council know nothing about it, but then pro-
bably the membership list is the result of a deal being worked
out wherever the dealing is going on. Hopefully the move will
not clip Sukarno's wings, or the PKI's? the President's name
is not mentioned, which is worrying, and the reference to non-
alignment in foreign policy is most unpromising. But the com-
position of the council seems sufficiently full of Sukarnoite
and "progressive" figures to be reassuring. The rightwing
panglimas* names are no pleasure to see, but at least the Men-
teng generals seem to be definitely out. Presumably the colonel
seek to take their place? hopefully they will prove more reason-
able than their predecessors. In any event the Party has
learned, especially in dealing with the military, to bend when-
ever the breeze is strong, so it will adjust if necessary to
them in turn.
But if there is actually to be a shakeup in the military
sector of the regime you want to start out on a good footing
with these people. They doubtless will pay a great deal of
attention to who sided with them at the outset—indeed, they
have made this clear in their earlier remarks. Under the best
of conditions the military are puzzling and worrisome creatures
for a Communist to deal with, and they will probably take great
offense if you are completely ambiguous in your remarks or de-
vote the editorial to the last year's rice prices. So express
appreciation to Untung—who from the continued prominence of
his name may be not a spokesman or pawn but a new arbiter of
military politics—and say his movement sounds patriotic. Then
the conclusive news comes in—the first Presidential message,
the appointment of Pranoto to run the army. The man Nasution
kicked out of the Central Java command of the Central Java
panglima-ship for being too Nasakom-minded, a man low down on
the pecking order for top position] This means either the en-
tire Menteng military set is by the boards or that it is so
weak vis-a-vis the President and the new group that it could be
skipped over. Clearly a turning point has been reached:	best
still to be cautious, as the whole story is not at all plain,
and best to stress your agreement that it is an internal Army1W&
affair—that is, that you intend to keep out of it. But say
your heart is with the 30 September group, for clearly it has
won out over Nasution and his allies—as the Nationalists also
think, for now, sore, they issue their declaration. (22)
Though the editorial is by now a scrapbook of the day's
hopes and hesitations, it reflects the cautious-but-positive
pose that seems safest: so set it and go to press. But you
have not reckoned that the generals are not outmaneuvered but
dead or preparing to strike back* that the calm of the city and
the assertiveness of the later announcements reflects not grow-
ing strength but mortal weakness: that with the appointment of
Pranoto, Sukarno has not gained but lost control of the Army:
and that the editorial, sloppy but safe, will shortly destroy
you.
Notes
(1)	See for example Polemik Merdeka Harian Rakjat (Djakarta:
Harian Rakjat, 1964): and BPS; Aksi dan Reaksi (Djakarta:
Harian Rakjat, 1965).
(2)	Text of the order in Berita Yudha, October 2, 1965.
(3)	One more issue of the PKI newspaper actually appeared, the
number for October 3. But this was HR Minggu, the Sunday cul-
tural issue, which was customarily made up and printed earlier
in the week and held for sale on Sunday. Like other Djakarta
newspapers which followed the same practice, the October 3 issue
contained no news of the events of the 1st and 2nd.
(4)	We should bear in mind that if the Army ran off the HR issue
of October 2 there is a chance the paper—and particularly its
editorial—were still viewed by the editors as open to revision.
This would explain the "unfinished" look of the editorial. It
would also make it impossible to assert that this reflected the
attitude of the editors at the time the paper was taken over,
for it might then represent a version written quite a bit earlier
in the day and intended for last-minute revision when the situa-
tion seemed clear enough to go to press. The question of time
is, of course, important in the search for clues as to whether
and how HR's attitude changed during the day as the result of
further information or second thoughts on what was happening.
Our own feeling is that the fact there is a stop-press meant
the editorial was considered ready for printing at that time,
and that if the press had not begun to roll when the counter-
coup forces arrived, it was about to.
(5)	A sentence or so expressing some item of controversy or em-
phasis: by convention these are permitted by the authorities
more license to criticize than are regular news items or edi-
torials, and, since they are also usually expressed in pepperylanguage, they tend to be among the first things one looks at
on getting the paper. The first page is the only one (with the
exception of the podjok on page three) that refers to events of
the 1st? presumably it was kept open until fairly late in the
afternoon. The only elements in the paper that refer to the
1st and are not taken word for word from Antara dispatches or
September 30th Movement communiques are the editorial, the car-
toons, the headlines, and the podjoks. There is one further
item of interest in the issue of October 2, Aidit's SESKOAL lec-
ture, reprinted in honor of the coming Armed Forces Day, which
we have described in the discussion of alternative origins of
the coup,
(6)	The Njono confession (see the last appendix) refers to a
meeting with Naibaho at Njono's home on October 1? however, al-
though the description of Njono's activities on October 1 is
the most likely section of this remarkable document, the whole
is so riddled with obvious falsehoods that it is best not to
accept any of it in evidence. It is reasonable to suppose that
the Harian Raklat editors would have gotten in touch with such
Politburo members as could be contacted during the day to find
out how they should handle the issue. We should bear in mind,
however, that unless those leaders actually stayed at the HR
office, contact (given the paralyzation of communications in
Djakarta and the distance of HR headquarters from the CC PKI
and the Politburo members' homes) was not likely to have been
well coordinated, continuing, or necessarily close to press
time. This, plus the absence of the topmost party leaders,
means that we must treat this issue of Harian Rakjat cautiously
as an authoritative party reactions clearly it did not repre-
sent a considered consensus of Politburo opinion in the way
pronouncements on important events in other issues of the Jour-
nal would, although this also does not mean the attitude of the
larger group, given the same limits on information available to
them, would necessarily have been different.
((S) * 7 * 9 10)	Marhaen (Makassar PNI organ), October 13, 1965. After the
banning of Suluh Indonesia following its October 2 issue, the
PNI leadership (that is the Ali-Surachinan group) had no voice
in the capital.
(S) Tahsin (who had recently been appointed ambassador to Mali)
denied, however, having been at Antara, seen Karim or Satyagraha,
or read any statement on that day (PNI denial of October 15,
Nasional, November 5, 1965).
(9)	Text in Nasional (Jogjakarta PNI organ), November 5, 1965.
(10)	According to the October 15 PNI statement Leimena was orig-
inally supposed to be in charge of the ceremony, and a deputy
was sent to pick him up at his house at 8?30 a.m. as per arrange-
ment. However, he could not contact Leimena because his house
was being guarded "in connection with the September 30th150
incident." Who was guarding the house—Untung or Suharto
forces—and whether they were really concerned with Leimena's
residence or Nasution's neighboring one is a puzzle.
(11)	The PNI account states that Minister of Forestry Sudjarwo
attended the ceremony; one gathers he was not present at the
subsequent meeting, however. The meeting was led, according to
the PNI statement, by secretary general Surachman in the ab-
sence abroad of general chairman Ali Sastroamidjojo, the 3rd
and 5th chairmen (the 1st and 2nd posts having been vacant
since the dumping of the Hardi group in August), and the ab-
sence from town of 4th chairman Ruslan Abdulgani. Present were
John Lumingkewas (vice secretary general), Slamet Ginting
(chairman of the organization department), Bachtiar Salim Haloho
(chairman of the Buruh Marhaenisj, Zaini Mansjur (general chair-
man of the Pemuda Marhaenis), Mrs. Samari (general chairman of
the Wanita Marhaenis), Bambang Kusnohadi (general chairman of
the presidium of the GMNI), Notosukardjo (Petani), Mohammed
Djambek (general chairman of Djamiatul Muslimin), Djoni Sastra-
wiguna (general chairman of the GSNI), Sitor Situmorang (chair-
man of the LKN), Drs. Sukarno (head of ISRI), Tiranda (secgen
of Pemuda Marhaenis), Kama Radjasa (first chairman of the
Greater Djakarta party organization), and members of the Gerakan
Massa Marhaen leadership including Satyagraha.
(12)	The account of the Department of Agriculture meeting in
Patriot of October 6 mentions that among others present were
Forestry Minister Sudjarwo, secretary of the Coordinating Minis-
ter of Agriculture Ir. Sartojo (representing the Minister),
vice secretary general of the central executive of the National
Front H. Mohammad Djambek, and assistant to.the Minister of
Agrarian Affairs drs. Zaini Mansjur.
(13)	The stencil on which the text of.the statement was typed
at Antara was completed at 11*15 p.m. (it is the first of two
items on the page, but the second is old news); the English-
language bulletin, in which it occurs as the last item on the
page, is dated 12*30 a.m. The phrase giving the time and place
of the PNI meeting is missing from both Indonesian-language and
English-language editions, so that it is not likely to have
been an omission in typing the stencil.
(14)	In the Patriot version of the PNI statement the word reads
simply prad jurit, which may mean one or more soldiers. It is
possible that it was originally intended in the singular—
pradjurit in the heroic sense--!.e., Untung. We are led to sus-
pect this because the Antara version uses para Pradjurit, which
is definitely plural, thus indicating the authors felt uncom-
fortable about the original version. The English-language
Antara bulletin tiptoes even farther away from the unfortunate
"Soldier(s)"* the word becomes "all members of the Armed Forces.
II151
(15)	The GMM statement was signed by Bachtiar Salim Haloho on
behalf of the DPP KBM (labor federation), Notosukardjo for DPP
Petani (peasants), Zaini Mansjur for DPP Pemuda Marhaenis (youth),
Rudi P. Sihombing for the DPP GSNI (non-university students),
Bambang Kusnohadi for the DPP GMNI (university students), Mrs.
Samari for the DPP Wanita Marhaenis (women), Sitor Situmorang
for the DPP LKN (cultural association), H. Mohammad Djambek for
the Djamiatul Muslimin Indonesia (religious group), drs. Soekarno
for the DPP ISRI (scholars), and S. Sawarno SH for the DPP GMM
itself.
(16)	Patriot credits Suluh Indonesia with its version of the
PNI statement. We do not have a copy of the Suluh Indonesia
issue of October 2, but it seems most unlikely that it appeared
there. Berita Yudha of October 4 includes a photograph of the
Suluh Indonesia masFhead and of the PNI denial of knowledge
about the Revolutionary Council and the use of its members'
names therein* this is printed with derisive comment about the
PNI's ambivalent stand. Surely if either version of the general
declaration of position had been included it would have been
singled out for attack by Berita Yudha or by one of the other
post-coup papers. Moreover, it is not probable Sulindo would
print the original version of the PNI declaration if it went to
press late enough to include a denial of involvement in the
Revolutionary Council.
Perhaps there were two editions of the newspaper, one
printed before the collapse of the coup and containing the state-
ment, which was successfully kept from seeing the light of day
in Djakarta but copies of which had already been sent out to the
provinces* and a second edition containing the denial of par-
ticipation and designed to offset the bad effect of the first.
This does not seem likely, though? we would surely have found
references to such an issue by now. Moreover, from the way Api re-
ferred to the statement, it was clear its copy was not on the
pages of a newspaper.
In addition to appearing in Patriot, the PNI voice in
Medan, it also seems to have come out on October 5 in Harian
Bahteng, the Bandung PNI paper? at least Api claimed this
(October 17, 1965). It appeared on October 9 in Ariati Waspada,
the Jogja Javanese-language PKI newspaper? presumably it was
copied from a previous issue of Nasional, much as the Medan PKI
newspaper Harian Harapan of October 7 drew it from Patriot of
the 6th.
The Ariati Waspada account is interesting in that in
Point 6 it speaks of members of the PNI-Front Marhaenis "inq
formasi Dewan Daerah, Dewan Tlabang tekan ranting2," thus making
the same error as appears in the Indonesian-language version
appearing in Patriot« There are no branch councils in the PNI,
and it should read, as it does in the Antara version, dalam
formasi dewan daerah, tlabang sampai ke rantinq2. This eliminates152
the possibility that the statement was wired or phoned out of
Djakarta while the coup was still going on (assuming this was
at all possible) and reduces the likelihood of the Jogja and
Medan papers having acquired it from different sources. It ap-
pears probable that the newspapers were working from copies of
the same text (we would guess stencilled, to judge from usual
duplicating practice in Djakarta) which, through haste in typing
the original document or the stencil, contained this error.
We would guess the text was duplicated at Suluh Indonesia
and bore some reference to this, or to the fact that it was an
item to appear in Suluh Indonesia of the 2nd, and that this was
the reason why Patriot referred to Suluh Indonesia as the source.
Presumably copies of the statement were put in the mails to the
provincial PNI newspapers as soon as it was decided to publish
the declaration, and were irretrievable by the time the coup
was broken. We can only guess as to why this would have been
done:	possibly out of sheer enthusiasm; or possibly it was
normal PNI practice to send copies of major statements to party
journals and offices in addition to their inclusion in Suluh
Indonesia. Or it may have been considered chancy, in view of
the unsettled situation, to rely solely on the newspapers' get-
ting through. The Makassar PNI paper Marhaen of October 4
printed the Antara version; either because it received that one
first or because, unlike its fellow journals, it twigged to the
implications of the original text.
(17) The PNI denial of knowledge concerning the Revolutionary
Council, as it appears in the photograph of the item in the
October 2 Suluh Indonesia published in Berita Yudha of October
4, is as follows:
PNI Central Board Knows Nothing
Djakarta, 2 October (sulindo)—In connection with the in-
clusion of the names of members of the PNI-FM in the list
of members of the "Revolutionary Council" the DPP PNI in a
press statement last night asserted that the DPP PNI knows
nothing about and bears no responsibility for the inclusion
of those names.
In addition, the members of the PNI whose names were
used by the "Revolutionary Council," namely Surachman, Zaini
Mansjur, Bambang Kusnohadi, Supeni, Sumarno SH, and a.
Karim DP, declare that they know nothing about and bear no
responsibility for the using of their names.
Thus the press statement issued by the DPP PNI last
night.
Marhaen of October 4 includes a similar statement, as does
Patriot of the same date with the principal difference that for
the second paragraph is substituted:153
All members of the PNI-Front Marhaenis are asked to con-
tinue to increase their vigilance and not to be easily de-
ceived by evil intrigues and intimidation by the counter-
revolutionaries# and heed and obey only instructions from
the DPP Front Marhaenis.
Curiously enough# though the PNI claimed Satyagraha
brought the denial to Antara at 8:00 p.m. the agency did not
carry a version of this on the morning of October 2nd (it was
suspended that afternoon and purged). It did include, however,
a hand-washing by A. Karim DP and Satyagraha on behalf of the
journalists' association PWI.
(18)	The most important of these groups was the. East Java Pemuda
Rakjat leadership, which sent in a letter of encouragement to
the September 30th Movement which is quoted in Angkatan Bersen-
djata of October 6* it seems quite genuine. There are several
such examples (aside from a large number of obvious fakes)? not
unsurprisingly they are all from groups of younger people. The
most striking is a letter to Untung by the student body of
Bachtaruddin Academy, a sort of night school belonging to the
PKI-sponsored UNRA educational system which was supposed to
teach political science to the interested masses. In the letter,
a photograph of which is provided in Angkatan Bersendjata of
October 9, the students declared that they were delighted Col.
Untung had saved the President and the country and that they
were sure the Nasution-Yani clique was behind the plot and in
American pay. They further informed Untung they had all had
training as volunteers and would be delighted to help preserve
the accomplishments of the September 30th Movements "All we
volunteers of the Bachtaruddin Political Science Academy are
ready to be armed and take an active part in putting down and
cleaning out the remaining influence of the so-called Generals'
Council." And, eager to participate in Politics, they stencilled
the message and sent copies to the President, the NASAKOM party
leaders, the press and radio, and all the members of the Revo-
lutionary Council. The mind boggles:	we have only to remember
the generals whose names were included on the Council list to
know into what sort of maw the Bachtaruddin student body was
thrusting its head. Laudable as the PKI's attempts at educating
its followers may have been, the party seems here to have been
sowing the seeds of political enlightenment upon a barren ground.
(19)	It was customary for the Saturday cartoon to play on the
tit le of a current movies it was not customary for the Thursday
and Friday cartoons to be combined.
(20)	Kebuda jaan Baru began publishing in August* it was, like
Harian Rakjat, printed on PIR, the old Indonesia Raja press.
Responsible editor was Muslimin Jasin, who had previously been
first secretary of the West Nusatenggara PKI? he was a candidate
member of the Central Committee, a member of the BTI (peasant
front) executive, and was active in the cultural organization151*
LEKRA. The Other members of the editorial board—S. Anantaguna,
Porkas H. Daulae, Sidartojo, Suhardjo BA/ and drs. Soekarno
Iskandar—were prominent educational and cultural activists.
The journal was made up to look as much like Harian Rakjat as
possible, with the same conservative Journalistic style: the
major difference was the inclusion of sketches as a regular
feature and a particular emphasis on educational and cultural
affairs. Its birth seems to have been due to the then ongoing
PKI campaign to...gat control of Indonesian education and intel-
lectual life; in addition, it was probably intended as the
opening wedge in an attempt to get permission for newspapers
for each of the major mass organizations, which would have given
the PKI immensely increased publishing capability.
Quite another Journalistic kettle of fish was Gelora
Indonesia, the third PKI newspaper in the capital, which we
shall refer to below. It had begun earlier in the year and,
using the Harian Rakjat editorial office but a different press
(Persatuan, the other Djakarta press owned by the PKI), came
out later in the afternoon than Kebudajaan Baru. Its responsi-
ble editor and board of reporters were all political unknowns
(it had no board of editors presumably relying for guidance on
the HR editorial staff whose office it shared). The format was
unlike that of Harian Rakjat, relying more on large headlines
and small words, and on the inside pages it tended to carry, in
place of HR's weighty essays and documents, photos of girls and
discussions of sports. Presumably it had been felt, when the
matter of a second paper in the capital came up, that as the
party of the People the PKI ought to give the People something
they wanted to read.
(21) Warta Bhaktl (the newspaper of A. Karim DP), in its after-
noon street edition of October 1, devoted bold headlines to
declaring:	"RRI announces*; Lt.. Col.. Untung of Tjakrabirawa
Rescues President Sukarno and Indonesian Republic. Only a Move-
ment within the Army." It included the initial Untung announce-
ment and the Dani order announcement (with a large headline?
"Order of the Day by the Minister/Air Force Commander"), but
that is all. It did not include the Sabur announcement of the
President's health and safety, which surely it would have if
this had been announced before the edition went to press. This
means that although the Dani order of the day was not broadcast
until mid-afternoon it was available at least to some people a
few hours before that. There was no editorial in the Warta
Bhakti issue, while the podjok Matad1eli devoted itself to the
passionate dissection of an automobile accident that had taken
place on DJI. Diponegoro the day before. Whether he was as
gleeful over the September 30th Movement as Api claimed, it was
apparent that Karim was still playing his cards closely so far
as oublic commitment was concerned at the time his paper went
to press. Ekonomi Nasional, which shared the same editorial
offices as Warta Bhakti and appeared about the same time of day
had a similar headline? one suspects the leftist papers had155
probably decided together what their headlines would say that
afternoon, in the face of ignorance concerning which way the
political winds were blowing, since if a number of papers said
the same thing it would be less likely under normal circumstances
for any one of them to be punished for going too far. A notable
exception to this was the Gelora Indonesia headline (see below).
Sinar Harapan, which went to press after the Sabur
statement, attempted to avoid all controversy by reporting
nothing of the day's events except that announcement, which it
published together with a large photograph of Sukarno and the
headline? "President Continues to Hold Leadership of State."
Alas, it was not possible for anyone who published that day to
win? the first major revision of history to be undertaken in
the postcoup period was the announcement by Sabur at 1:15 a.m.
on the morning of the 2nd that the President had resumed the
leadership of the state:	for it was of course not permissible
to assert he had held it during the coup period (Berita Yudha,
October 2, 1965). Sinar Harapan resumed publication on October
8 after a purge.
(22) Some evidence that the Sukarno statement was the turning
point for the PKI's treatment of the coup may perhaps be found
in Gelora Indonesia, which went to press after the initial
afternoon flurry of Untung announcements. We have only the por-
tion of the front page produced in Berita Yudha of October 4 to
go by, but presumably anything further that could be considered
incriminating would have been included or reported. We can
therefore assume there was no editorial, cartoon, or podjok
dealing directly with the coup.
The Gelora Indonesia headlines are mixed* they give a
confused, uncertain impression. The major headline does not
declare Untung had saved the President, nor does it refer to
him as chairman of the Revolutionary Council, which he by then
claimed to be. Instead, it declares:	"Statement of Commander
of Tjakrabirawa Battalion I:	On the Problem Concerning the
'Generals' Council’." This heading the RRI announcement of
that morning. A quite conservative approach, then? even "Gener-
als' Council" is in quotes. On the other hand, the Dhani order
of the day, prominently displayed in a box, is headed "AURI
supports September 30th Movement"; while heading the early
afternoon Untung announcements is; "Beginning 30 September
1965 State Power in [hands of] Revolutionary Council. Highest
Rank in Armed Forces Lt. Col."
It seems clear from this treatment that the PKI journal-
ists smelled a coup, that they were no longer sure where Sukarno
stood in relation to Untung, and that they did not wish to sup-
port the Untung forces in an attempt to seize power against the
President. Hence the main headline, which reduces Untung to
his regular Tjakra battalion commander proportions and concen-
trates on the Generals' Council as a "problem" rather than156
asserting Untung's heroic rescue of the President from its
clutches. At the same time the paper does not dare ignore the
far-reaching declarations on state power and military rank:	it
is obvious from the way it handles them that it believes the
new group is on top and intends them somehow seriously. Finally,
the journal takes comfort from Dhani's confident involvement in
this worrisome business.THE NJONO CONFESSION
"Perhaps there is something missing; perhaps there is too much."
Nagarakrtagama (39, III, 4)
Following is the text in the Antara report of the confession of Njono, as
presented by officers of the Puspen (Array Information Centre) to Indonesian
and foreign correspondents on 2 December 1965 (from Antara, Djakarta
English edition, No. 326/B, 2 December 1965):
A top communist leader has admitted that it was the Indonesian
Communist Party (PKI) who was responsible for and had masterminded the
bloody counter-revolutionary coup, launched by the so-called "Septem-
ber 30 Movement".
Njono, member of the Politbureau of the Central Committee of the
PKI and concurrently general chairman of the communist Central Organi-
sation of All-Indonesia Workers Unions (SOBSI)* during interrogations
by military authorities revealed that prior to the "September 30
Affair", the Politbureau had held continuous discussions for a period
of one and a half month, from the middle of July until the end of
August last.
The (formerly) flamboyant trade union leader crumbled before his
questioners as he revealed the contents of the discussions, which were
presided directly by Indonesian Communist Party boss Dipa Nusantara
Aidit and had as one of its major topics the illness of President
Soekarno, which occurred around July.
Officers of the Army Information Centre at a press conference
here Thursday revealed Njono's confession that the Politbureau's talk
centered around plans to change the course of the state and to wrest
power. The talks were held in the headquarters of the PKI's Central
Committee in Jakarta.
The Politbureau comprised nine members, respectively D. N. Aidit,
Lukman, Njoto, Njono, Sudisman, Ir. Sakirman, Jusuf Adjitorop, Anwar
Sanusi and Rewang, but only seven participated in the discussions as
Jusuf Adjitorop was in Peking and Rewang in Central Java.
Njono further disclosed that all decisions taken by the Polit-
bureau had to be implemented strictly by the Jakarta Committee of the
PKI, as well as the party's regional committees throughout Indonesia.
During the discussions, party-boss Aidit gave information about
the health of President Soekarno, and outlined plans for wresting
power.
Under the plans the supreme leadership for military operations
of the so-called "September 30 Movement" was to be in the hands of
15?158
Aidlt himself, while Njono was ordered to lead operations in the
area of Jakarta Raya.
The Communist trade union boss said Aidit had told the Polit-
bureau that the Army was not compact, the Air Force would give
facilities while the Navy and Police could be indoctrinated.
Military operations launched by the "September 30 Movement"
under the leadership of "Mahaputra" Aidit would also receive support
from already trained, and. armed. PKI. units, such as the Pemuda Rakjat
(People's Youth), the communist Peasant Front (BTI), the SOBSI, the
Gerwani women's organisation, and others.
With regard to the other political parties, Aidit was of the
view that the Politbureau should not worry about the Indonesian
Nationalist Party (PNI) because of the split in PNI ranks, while he
admitted that the powerful Moslem Scholars Party (NU) could pose
some problems because the latter's Nasakom-mindedness could still be
doubted.
In order to launch the "September 30 Movement", which became
known for its viciousness and unbelievable inhumanity, the Politbureau
ordered a division of tasks between its members.
Big Boss Aidit, as already reported, would be charged with lead-
ing military operations as well as determining "D" day, the day the
operations would be launched. Aidit also received the task of draft-
ing the composition of the so-called "Revolutionary Council".
Njono received the task of establishing a supporting force for
the Jakarta Raya, region comprising units of Pemuda Rakjat, BTI,
Gerwani, SOBSI and others. Sudisman would be in charge of financial
matters.
In this connection Njono revealed, that he did.not. know where the
money came from, but every time he (Njono) asked for money Sudisman
gave it to him.
The final decision to launch the coup was taken by the Polit-
bureau by the end of August last. After that extensive preparations
were started, secret instructions given to the commanders of the
various sectors and training at Lobang Buaja intensified.^
Njono said that on September 29, at 5:00 p.m., a courier, namely
Sukatno, general chairman of Pemuda Rakjat, came to him from Lobang
Buaja to inform him that the coup would be launched.
Since the beginning of September, Njono himself had been busy
arranging the training of volunteers at Lobang Buaja and holding
briefings with PKI cadres, to whom he stressed the fact that a
"General's Council" would soon start a coup.
"Stand by on September 30 and listen continuously to the broadcast159
of Radio Republlk Indonesia (RRI)" Njono told PKI cadres and
activists.^
Njono himself was told to stand by on September 30 because arms,
rice and clothes would be dropped. Njono did not know the origin of
the arms, but only knew that they would come from Lubang Buaja.
On October 1, at 8:00 a.m.? Njono in his residence received
reports from the various sectors concerning the action to be launched
under the name of "September 30 Movement".
The reports said that RRI and the new Telecommunications head
office had already been occupied as well as the Palace compounds.
Njono was also informed that several generals had been kidnapped but
that General A. H. Nasution had escaped.
Also submitting reports on that day were Naibaho, then editor-
in-chief of the (now banned) "Harian Rakjat" newspaper, and Anwar
Sanusi.
"I also received many other reports" Njono said, "the contents
of which I do not remember any more."
After the announcement by Major General Soeharto over RRI that
the coup, which was launched, was counter-revolutionary, Njono left
his house at Salemba and moved to the compounds of the State Printing
Works, where he was captured on October 3.®
The squealing communist leader told his questioners that the PKI
and all its affiliates had participated in implementing the decisions
of the Politbureau to wrest state power and to declare the Dwikora
Cabinet demissionary and thus were all equally responsible for this
counter-revolutionary adventure.
Njono further disclosed that only members of the Politbureau knew
that the ultimate aim of the movement was to wrest power from the
legal government.
All the other PKI members were only informed about their respec-
tive tasks. And even Politbureau members, with the exception of Aidit,
did not know all the plans involved in the counter-revolutionary
"September 30 Movement".
Although it was thought that 2,000 people was enough to control
the Jakarta Raya area, Njono promised the Politbureau to deliver 5,000
trained and armed PKI cadres and activists.^
The PKI Politbureau guaranteed victory as soon as the movement
was launched. It turned out differently, however.160
Notes
1.	The SOBSI post was also used in reporting the confession of the Army
press (e.g. Berlta Yudha, December 3, 1965). However, Njono had not
held the office of SOBSI chairman since September 1964, when he was
transferred from labor union work to become head of the Greater
Djakarta party committee. In a press conference on December 2 at which
the Army Information Centre provided "clarification" of its original
presentation to the press, this was changed to refer to his actual
office.
2.	This membership and size of the Politbureau is repeated in the clari-
fication. It was further emphasized that "Chaired by D* N. Aidit, the
Politbureau held discussions concerning the health of His Excellency
the President, concerning the state leadership and concerning possible
changes in the state leadership. Discussions were held continuously at
the PKI Central Committee headquarters in Djakarta. Always present at
these discussions were D. N. Aidit, M. H. Lukman, Njoto, Ir. Sakirman,
Sudisman, Njono and Anwar Sanusi."
3.	The clarification states that Aidit said that although the illness was
not mortal, the general condition of the President's health gave cause
for concern. The President, according to what the army officers said
Njono said, had fallen ill some time in July. /He might remember that
Untung claimed the generals had plotted because Soekarno fell ill in
August^/ The clarification further states that the final Politbureau
decision was that it (the Politbureau) would create a new political
order by dissolving the cabinet and replacing it by a revolutionary
council, this goal to be achieved by a military operation.
4.	According to the clarification, the composition of the Dewan Revolusi
was determined by the executive committee of the Politbureau, which was
also charged with maintaining liaison with major- regional PKI committees
outside Djakarta.
5.	The clarification adds that all this was carried out in complete
secrecy, in what the Communists called "a closed-mouth operation".
During September, Njono, according to the clarification, made the
following preparations:	the acceptance of recruits for training at
Lubang Buaja; the organization of sectors /sic; armed units?/ and the
appointing of their commandants for the Greater Djakarta area; the
giving of briefings to cadres which emphasized the danger of the Dewan
Djendral; the launching of political campaigns; and the securing of
funds from Sudisman /who was head of the Secretariat of the PKI Central
Committee/.
6.	In the clarification this is changed to read:	"After Njono received
the decision about D-day, he issued orders to the cadres, activists
and sector commandants under his jurisdiction to stand by on September
30 evening to receive arms, rice, uniforms and other goods which would
be sent from Lubang Buaja; to man their respective posts and sectors;
and to listen to the radio on October 1, 1965."161
7.	In the clarification the hour is changed to 4:00 a.m. and the account
continues as follows:	"Njono confessed that he received reports about
the occupation of the RRI and telecommunications buildings, the occu-
pation of the complex around the presidential palace, and about the
arrival of supplies of firearms and uniforms. Also received was a
report about the capture of a number of generals and the escape of
General Nasution. A report received from Suharti, the vice-chairman
of the Gerwani Central_Executive Board, said that the doctors were
ready /sic, nice touch/. A report received from Naibaho of the press
and Agitprop group said that they had carried out their activities.
A report received from UNRA /PKI-sponsored school system/ said that
personnel from UNRA which could be used had been put in readiness. A
report was also received from Anwar Sanusi /Politburo member; repre-
sentative of the PKI on the Front Nasional executive/ about the first
announcement which was made by the President." And many others he did
not remember.
8.	The clarification states that after "an announcement" by General
Suharto, Njono kept moving from one place to another in Djakarta. He
sent a courier to Lubang Buaja to obtain information about the situa-
tion; he could not make contact with either Aidit or Sukatno.
Comment
Perhaps it will strike the reader that Njono*s activities of October 1,
which seem to have consisted of sitting at home and receiving reports, show
a certain lassitude for someone who was launching a revolution. This
apparently was appreciated by the army officers who provided clarification
of the original account of Njono's confession, for they remarked that "Even
if it can be said that the role of manager still can be doubted, it is
positive that PKI was the planner, the one which prepared, implemented,
and led. The leadership of the overall operation was in Aidit's hands."
Even so, it may be felt on reading the confession that the PKI's
preparations for the coup were a frightful muddle, especially for a party
that was supposed to be so well organized. Fear not, gentle reader, there
was good reason. As you will have noted, the Politburo meetings lasted
from mid-July until the end of August, were personally led by Aidit, and
were attended by all Politburo members save Rewang and Jusuf Adjitorop.
Now it happened that Aidit left Indonesia in June as part of the delegation
to the stillborn Algiers A. A. conference; he did not return to Indonesia
until August 7. Njoto, another participant in the plotting, was out of the
country during the same period, as part of Subandrio's entourage, and re-
turned on August 9. The phone bills must have been enormous. How fortu-
nate that party secretary Sudisman was able to provide limitless funds.
The difficulty of obtaining a good telephone connection between Djakarta
and, say, Bucharest (where Aidit was attending the Rumanian Communist Party
Congress during the second half of July) can well be appreciated; when one
considers that these must have been conference calls including Njoto, who
during his trip was in four Middle Eastern, eight African and three European
countries (H.R. August 10, 1965), one need no longer ponder the source of162
confusion. This, obviously, must be why Njono thought Aidit said two
thousand people were sufficient to take Djakarta (this being, we might
note, the number of arms issued to the Pemuda Rakjat volunteers by the
AURI on October 1). Clearly he must have meant two hundred thousand, but
the connection was bad. We can well understand that Njono, laboring under
this misunderstanding, suggested it might do well to have at least five
thousand on hand:	For according to the Djakarta garrison commander, there
were then sixty thousand troops in the capital area* — which would offer
such odds against Aidit's army as have not been seen since the Battle of
Thermopylae.
It is possible that the Njono confession was foisted upon his inter-
rogators by Njono himself, in which case we must congratulate him for
having preserved an excellent sense of humor during his confinement. It
seems more likely, however, that at least the portion concerning the
Politburo discussions was presented ready-made for him to sign. We will
note that both the statement and clarification list the name and number of
Politburo members quite specifically, and it happens that they neglect
Peris Pardede, who was appointed candidate member of the Politburo at the
May 1965 Central Committee session (that he was a candidate and not a full
member presumably made no difference, as Jusuf Adjitorop was also a candi-
date). This is the sort of mistake that is less likely to be made by a
Politburo member than by an intelligence service that has not kept its
records up-to-date.
While allowing for the fact that the "devil" image of Coiaminism makes
a consistent story unnecessary in the short run, and while granting Njono's
confessors an archaizing tendency to ignore the facts of the old zaman
while creating the myth of the new, we must nonetheless consider theirs a
regrettably inadequate contribution to the falsification of history. To
waste the confession of a major party leader in this way after holding him
for two months is inexcusable. No doubt something can be rescued by
claiming that there was a False Aidit who was sent abroad while the real
one stayed home and plotted; this will add to the diabolic public image of
the PKI and will further diminish Soekamo's prestige by proving he could
not tell a real Aidit from a fake one. However, it is unnecessarily com-
plicated, and one of the requirements of a good Lie is that it has as few
awkwardnesses as possible, being composed properly of claims too vast to
be denied linked by logic too ironclad to be arguable to facts too obscure
to be checked. It is hard not to feel that, if so little talent is dis-
played in handling such an elementary problem in prevarication, there can
be small hope that the problem-solvers of the new regime will be able to
deal effectively with such larger fictions as the Indonesian economy.
1. Major General Umar Wirahadikusumah, quoted in Duta Masjarakat, October
1, 1965.