David Van Reybrouck

A sprawling book, David Van Reybrouck's Revolusi: Indonesia and the Birth of the Modern World recounts the modern history of a country which is largely overlooked in the West despite its huge population and great size. (If you lined the western coast of Sumatra up with the west coast of Spain, Indonesia's easternmost border with Papua New Guinea falls somewhere in central Iran.)

Van Reybrouck's account begins with the earliest phases of the Dutch colonial presence in what they termed the show more East Indies, and then follows Indonesian history forward into the later 20th century, but much of the book focuses on roughly 1900-1950. During this period, Dutch colonial repression increased in its brutality and its discrimination, the Indonesian archipelago was invaded multiple times during WW2, and its population suffered horrendously during both that conflict and the subsequent war of independence. (The "Revolusi" of the title.) Van Reybrouck makes excellent use of oral histories which he gathers from a wide variety of people—primarily Indonesian and Dutch, but also people from other parts of Asia—to show both the burgeoning sense of Indonesian national identity, and the brutality of the colonial regime and Dutch denial about it.

(At one point, Van Reybrouck quotes a poll from 2019 (!) which shows that 50% (!!) of Dutch people are proud of their country's colonial past. That's an even higher figure than the British, wtf.)

I did have some quibbles with the book's structure, and how much weight certain events were given. I wanted more from the perspective of Indonesians than I did from the perspective of the Dutch; while I get that the nature of the surviving evidence will inevitably skew things somewhat, at times this read like a book written from Europe looking east rather than one with its metaphorical feet planted in Indonesian soil. I also wanted more about post-independence Indonesia than we got; a lot of the details about WW2, as harrowing as they were, could have been trimmed.

Still, a really fascinating book which provides an important introduction to the history of modern Indonesia and how it fits into the broader context of anti-colonialist independence movements. show less

In deze woelige tijden en vooral omdat je op de duur je begint af te vragen waarom er verkiezingen zijn, als toch steeds dezelfde mensen minister worden of in het parlement terechtkomen... is dit kleinood best een verfrissend product, ook al rakelt Van Reybrouck een oud gegeven op: loting.

In dit vlot geschreven en helder (o.a. met schema's) uitgelegde essay pleit Van Reybrouck voor de (her)introductie van loting in de politiek. Let wel: loting waarbij telkens andere mensen gekozen worden, show more zodat je niet steeds dezelfde groep hebt of dezelfde soort (bijv. hoogopgeleide, van rijke komaf) hebt. In een verleden, vóór Christus, ten tijde van het oude Griekenland werd de politiek in Athene bepaald door loting. Geen verkiezingen, maar loting, loting van geschikt geachte mensen. Ook de wetten en beslissingen daartoe werden dan door verschillende groepen behandeld alvorens voorstellen defnitief wet werden.

Later werd een dergelijk systeem ook elders in de wereld toegepast (in Italië, Spanje, enz...). Hoewel het steeds om mannen ging, kwamen de gelote kandidaten wel uit verschillende lagen van de bevolking.

Het is pas veel later dat vooral de gegoede burgerij vond dat een serieus gegeven als politiek best gevoerd kon worden door mensen die competent en van adellijke komaf waren. Anders gezegd, de aristocratie. Vooral na de Franse en Amerikaanse revoluties was loting iets van het verleden en werd er een kiessysteem geïnstalleerd. M.a.w., je kon dan kiezen voor je favoriete vertegenwoordiger of voor degene(n) die je als vertegenwoordiger(s) wou.

Dat heeft uiteraard vooral z'n voordelen voor de degenen die gekozen worden en het systeem in stand kunnen houden door hun familie erbij te betrekken (vandaar de families De Croo, De Gucht, De Clerck, Schiltz, Van Rompuy, Tobback, en ga zo maar door; elke partij heeft wel zo iemand rondlopen). Dit beperkt uiteraard de betrokkenheid van de burger, gezien die op die manier niet echt weet WAARVOOR hij/zij gaat stemmen. Met alle gevolgen van dien.

Van Reybrouck maakt een reis doorheen de tijd, van een periode zonder verkiezingen, zonder politieke partijen, e.d., naar de periode waarin we nu leven: politieke partijen, verenigingen, lobby's, organisaties (vakbonden e.d.), vrouwenstemrecht, ... Hij bespreekt ook kort hoe, bij het ontstaan van België, de Belgische grondwet (hoewel niet 100% origineel, wegens het overnemen van bepaalde stukken uit andere nationale grondwetten) eigenlijk als basis gediend heeft (volledig of deels) voor grondwetten elders in Europa, omwille van z'n specificiteit en het feit dat België een speciaal, uniek geval is inzake democratie.

Loting was vroeger vooral van toepassing op kleine steden en gelijkaardig, helemaal niet bedoeld voor grote gebieden zoals een Frankrijk, Duitsland, enz., omdat je op die manier een te groot onderscheid krijgt van noden en wensen, waardoor de wetgeving te algemeen wordt.

Maar goed, verkiezingen zijn een manier om democratisch bestuur te krijgen, maar eigenlijk ben je als burger niet vrij op die manier. Je mag bolletjes kleuren, maar enkel binnen eenzelfde partij. Je weet eigenlijk niet WAARVOOR je stemt (welke aanpassingen i.v.m. werkzekerheid, infrastructuur, sociale zekerheid, milieu, andere thema's, ...), enkel voor WIE je stemt. En dan nog. Dan beslissen de partijen intern wie er naar het parlement mag en wie er minister mag worden. Waarom stem je dan nog?

Ik had op Mathias' uitstekende review gereageerd met: waarom niet voor thema's stemmen? Stel dat partij A inzake jobs een beter voorstel heeft dan de andere partijen, dan kleur je dat vakje. Stel dat partij B inzake milieu een beter voorstel heeft dan de andere partijen, dan kleur je dat vakje. Dus, niet meer gebonden zijn aan partijen, want niemand is 100% voor CD&V of SP.a of Groen of N-VA of wat-dan-ook. Er zijn altijd overlappende voorkeuren.

Maar goed, loting lijkt me (ook) geen slecht voorstel om zo eens andere visies aan bod te laten komen inzake het voorstellen van wetten, vooral als bepaalde thema's daardoor beter behandeld kunnen worden, zoals Van Reybrouck schrijft.

Hij pleit dus voor loting, maar met behoud van de huidige politieke afgevaardigden. De politiek en de burgers zouden dus de koppen moeten samensteken om zo tot een beter beleid te komen. Uiteraard zouden die burgers wel in de beste omstandigheden moeten kunnen werken - om dossierkennis op te doen en te overleggen met elkaar en politieke verkozenen en experten - en verloond worden. In andere landen (IJsland, Ierland, ...) zijn al dergelijke projecten de revue gepasseerd en met succes. Waarom het hier, en in andere landen, dan nog niet gedaan wordt/werd, wijt Van Reybrouck vooral aan het feit dat de huidige machthebbers hun macht niet graag afgeven. Wie aan de vetpot zit, schept. En da's overal het geval, ongeacht het land, ongeacht de partij. Daarom dat het systeem moet aangepakt worden. Loting kan (!) helpen de samenleving een betere plaats te maken.

Eigenlijk moest ik dit al eerder gelezen hebben, maar gezien er een geüpdatete versie van uitgekomen is - deze hier - en rekening houdend met de recente gebeurtenissen op nationaal en internationaal vlak (Trump, extreemrechts dat meer en meer opkomt, de N-VA aan de macht in België, ...), was de tijd meer dan rijp om dit essay te lezen.

'Tegen verkiezingen' is verplicht leesvoer voor iedereen die wat kritisch tegen de (huidige) politiek aankijkt. Het geeft een boeiend overzicht van waar we komen, waar we staan en hoe burgerlijke betrokkenheid best positieve gevolgen kan hebben, voor iedereen. Ook kan zo het wederzijdse (tussen de politiek en de burger) vertrouwen hersteld worden. show less

Well-written, fast read about the birth of Indonesia and the role of the Japanese and Dutch empires in this, including a brief summary of its international ramifications (Bandung conference, birth of the EU, CIA’s cold war Jakarta doctrine).

Again van Reybrouck manages to combine the bigger picture with intricate, personal detail through oral history of eyewitnesses, like he did before for the Belgian Congo. And of course it requires a Belgian national to write a critical, yet balanced show more history of the painful Dutch decolonisation in Indonesia. Chapot, David! Below I will only discuss two chapters of his voluminous history to entice you to read and enjoy it.

In the first part the author presents an analysis of a number of key phases of Dutch (de)colonization of the Indian island archipelago. Thus van Reybrouck reconstructs the history of Dutch colonial expansion between 1605 and 1914, observing that some islands have been part of the Dutch empire much longer (Ambon – 337 years) than others (Aceh – 28 years, ‘pacified’ as late as 1914).

The Dutch crafted what became known as the Dutch East Indies, and later Indonesia, like a jigsaw puzzle in five consecutive phases. During the first phase (1600-1700) the general principle was: ‘the less territory one occupies, the better’ (cheaper, unless absolutely necessary to establish a trading monopoly as in Ambon for cloves, and in Banda for nutmeg). The VOC was present to establish trading posts for key spices, acting ruthless in case of competition: exterminating the population of Banda for breaking the VOC’s monopoly in trading nutmeg in 1621-23, even occupying the tiny island of Run (in English hands, trading nutmeg) in exchange for Manhattan in 1667.

When the market for spices became saturated and even partly collapsed in the next century, the VOC switched to other colonial products for which a mass market was emerging in Europe: coffee, tea, sugar, tobacco and cacao (second phase). The company started cultivating coffee and tea in 1707 on Java, capturing 75% of the world trade in coffee from 1725 onwards. Chinese planters started growing sugarcane on Java, thus causing both Java and Sumatra to form the core of the Company’s possessions (meanwhile expanding to Borneo and Sulawesi (Celebes)). By occupying more territory, the costs of governing the trading colony exploded: 35,000 men were employed in 1750, while the global slump in sugar prices put a dent in the profits. Debts started to rise, while the fourth Anglo-Dutch war resulted in a crippling blockade by the British: in 1795 the VOC went bankrupt.

The Dutch State stepped in and underwrote the remaining debts. The third phase (lasting only from 1800-1814) was crucial in terms of establishing the key features of modern statehood in Indonesia. The French appointed governor general Daendels constructed a road from east to west along the Java coast (grote Postweg) and introduced administrative Districts (prefectures), a basic education system, and a system of governing sugar estates and irrigation works. He also curtailed and subjected the powers of local rulers. When Raffles invaded and conquered Java in 1811 for the British, he centralised the administration and introduced a systematic land tax replacing payment in kind to local princes by payment of land taxes to the colonial government.

The fourth phase started with the return of the Prince of Orange from British exile as a King in the Netherlands. The Cape colony, Ceylon and Indian trading posts that the British took over from the Dutch remained British, but Java and all other Indonesian islands were returned to the Dutch State, that asked for tax payment in kind for all the princely lands that had been taken. This led to the so-called Java war which raged between 1825-1830 under the inspiring leadership of Prince Diponegoro, costing the lives of 15,000 colonial soldiers and some 200,000 Javanese. When the Dutch lost sovereignty over Belgium in 1830, their Indian colony had to compensate for the loss of income. This was done by imposing the cultural tax system: each land owner had to grow cash crops (coffee, tea, tobacco, sugar, cinchona, indigo) on at least 20% of their land that was sold by the Dutch Trading Company (NHM). To collect the tax, a governing system of residents and assistant residents was imposed. The resident was a local prince or indigenous ruler; the assistant resident was appointed by the Dutch colonial government. Inhabitants also had to provide 66 days of free labour a year for colonial works. This system reaped tremendous benefits for the Dutch State (responsible for 33-50% of its total annual income between 1831-1877) and caused endless misery for the local population responsible for the famines of 1846-1847 and cholera epidemics of 1851 and 1864.

During the fifth and final phase (1870-1914) over 50% of the colony was 'pacified' with the war in Aceh lasting for 40 years leaving over 100,000 dead. Meanwhile, tobacco production took off on Sumatra with some 169 tobacco estates in 1891, employing over 140,000 imported Chinese labour force and 35,000 labourers from Java. The discovery of rubber and oil opened up other profitable venues.

In the third chapter van Reybrouck introduces a powerful metaphor that he will use as a guiding prism to analyse the fate of different strata of Indonesian society throughout the remainder of his book: the mail boat (in Dutch pakketboot). Before ww2 broke out in 1942, the mail boat was the principal means of communication and transport between the many islands making up the Dutch East Indies. The mail boat had three separate classes for passengers: top floor – first class: all Dutch and European nationals; middle deck – all Chinese traders and top echelon of Indonesian ruling class (regents, princes); below deck – third class, the majority of inhabitants. These three segregated classes on the mail boat where also reflected in the governance and wealth of the colony – a segregated education system, segregated tax paying system, segregated electoral suffrage, etc etc. When an indigenous cohort of educated and/or religious Indonesians emerged during the inter-bellum, these were the very people who knocked on the door of the top deck, on behalf of the below deck majority. The anti-colonial resistance that emerged during the inter-bellum had three sources of inspiration: religious – political Islam (1910s); communist (1920s) and nationalist (1930s), creating their own reasonable networks that over-lapped. However reasonable their demands, the Dutch authorities crushed any request for upward mobility and enhanced rights.

By providing this analytical glimpse I hope I have wetted your appetite to read the whole book. Van Reybrouck manages to combine the daily and intricate experience of history, with the bigger picture history of political and economic shocks. Thus history comes to life. By applying many Points of View, through personal testimonies in writing and speaking, van Reybrouck can be critical, where others become partisan. In my experience it virtually always takes an 'outsider' to provide such a critical, reflexive treatise (like Simon Schama and Jonathan Israel did for the Dutch republic). show less

‘The apologies for the history of slavery and the police actions, as made by the king, will be withdrawn.’ So promised the Netherlands’ right-wing firebrand lawmaker Geert Wilders ahead of the country’s 2023 election. On this subject, Wilders is no far-right outlier. Early in Revolusi, David Van Reybrouck quotes a YouGov poll from 2019 which found that 50 per cent of Dutch respondents were proud of the country’s colonial past – vastly more than the British at 32 per cent or the show more French at 26 per cent. Van Reybrouck, a Belgian historian who explored his own country’s colonial legacy in 2010’s Congo, notes that 23 per cent of respondents from Belgium were proud of that history. The horrors that the Netherlands unleashed on Indonesia are hardly unique in Europe’s history of imperialism. Why are the Dutch so much prouder than their European cousins?

Call it the ‘VOC mentality’ says Van Reybrouck. The Dutch East Indies were not initially conquered by the Dutch Crown. Rather it was the Dutch East India Company (known by its Dutch initials) that first sailed to the archipelago in the early 1600s on the hunt for the natural resources such as spices and (later) rubber that would make it a corporate giant. For three centuries the VOC – and then the Netherlands itself – fed off Indonesia.

It’s often been said that Indonesia is the world’s largest ‘invisible country’. If that’s true, the revolution beginning in 1945 must surely be the most consequential ‘invisible revolution’ of the last hundred years. Where and when it began, exactly, is difficult to pin down. Nationalism in Indonesia has deep and varied roots, but most scholars – and Indonesians – point to the Sumpah Pemuda, or Youth Pledge, announced at the Second Youth Congress of October 1928 as a decisive moment. Through the pledge, still commemorated annually, attendees committed to ‘one motherland’, ‘one nation’ and ‘one language’. It would take nearly 20 years and a Japanese occupation before an independent state was declared by founding president Sukarno in 1945. The Netherlands, however, had little interest in giving up its Asian colony. In jungle battles and UN meeting rooms it fought for years to keep a grip on Indonesia. How it came to have that grip is a story centuries in the making.

Van Reybrouck explains the complicated social strata of the Dutch East Indies in the prewar era by drawing an analogy with a (then) famous steamship tragedy. In 1936 the Van der Wijck steamboat, a shuttle service running between Batavia (now Jakarta) and Makassar in Sulawesi, was sunk off the north coast of Java. The boat, says Van Reybrouck, was a lively microcosm of colonial society. Europeans enjoyed the top deck, non-white foreigners and Indos (mixed-race Indonesian-Europeans) jostled for space on the second, while native Indonesians suffered in cramped conditions on the third. The Van der Wijck tragedy suggests why so many stories remain missing from Indonesia’s history: the names of those on the lowest deck were simply never recorded.

Read the rest of the review at HistoryToday.com.

Erin Cook is a journalist based in Jakarta. She writes about Southeast Asia at Dari Mulut ke Mulut and The Diplomat. show less