“Anarchism in Indonesia did not arise from academic discussions, but emerged through subcultures, such as punk in the 90s.” Part II

Continuing our journey through Indonesia. Despite being so far from Belarus, it shares very similar traits: human rights restrictions and opposition persecution.

In the first part, we discussed Indonesian prisons and what led Black Paper to take an interest in anarchism in our time. But how is anarchism developing in Indonesia?

In the second part, Nottoday spoke with Ernest (name changed — ed.) — an active participant in the anarchist movement in Indonesia, and we tried to understand the current state of the anarchist movement in the country. It vanished like a phoenix in 1965–66 but was reborn in the 1990s and is now gaining momentum on the streets of Indonesia and in subcultural circles.

If you’re interested in the history of the anarchist movement in Indonesia and want to understand what’s happening on the country’s political scene, read the answers to your questions in the second Nottoday piece with Ernest — we’ll try to lay out the basics for you. And, of course, the second part is also accompanied by a musical supplement.

Ernest, an active participant in the anarchist movement in Indonesia

— Indonesians have long been familiar with the anarchist movement, which once held a significant place in the country’s political movements. However, in 1965–66, when the military dictator Suharto came to power, hundreds of thousands of people were killed, including activists, anarchists, feminists, and indigenous people. In the 1990s, anarchist ideas experienced a revival in Indonesia. Why do you think this happened?

— Yes, that is indeed the case. Anti-authoritarian ideas were quite popular among activists of the Indonesian independence movement. Their influence played a certain role in Indonesia gaining independence in 1945. Figures such as Ernest Dawes Dekker and Darsono were just a few of the many anarchists who influenced the struggle for Indonesia’s independence. However, the dynamics of the anarchist movement gradually changed after Suharto came to power. The radical movement was brutally suppressed and erased from the face of the earth through the kidnapping of activists, destruction of archives, falsification of history, and various other systematic and insidious strategies, which led to the current generation of comrades being disconnected from the roots of their ancestors’ struggle.

Although the situation was not as dreadful as during the Suharto era, even in the early years of Suharto’s rule (the first president of Indonesia, who led the country from 1945 to 1967 – ed.), anarchism in Indonesia began to fade. While no studies on this topic have been conducted, I believe that the widespread propaganda of nationalism in the early years of independence also became one of the reasons for the disappearance of anarchism in Indonesia.

Interest in old anarchist archives began to revive among the youth only a few years ago. One of the books that emerged from archival research was Di Bawah Bendera Hitam: Kumpulan Tulisan Anarkisme Hindia Belanda, published by Pustaka Catut in 2018. Just imagine how disconnected we are from our own history of struggle.

But I want to believe that in some situations, if anarchism does not have a clear beginning or history, it can start at any moment and in any way, because anarchy is not just a situation, it can also be a destiny. Therefore, when anarchism resurfaced among the youth in the 1990s, it was, as I said, destiny. Like a book that will find its reader, the desire for freedom (after decades of colonial domination and repression) will always find its way.

— Why did anarchism in Indonesia revive through subcultures rather than academic circles? What do you think is the reason for this?

— Earlier, I spoke about the “systematic” and insidious strategy of the regime, and this also explains why anarchism in Indonesia did not emerge from academic discussions but appeared through subcultures, such as punk in the 90s. Suharto had his people in almost every area of life — from street gangsters to religious leaders and university professors with prestigious academic titles.

But I think this situation is interesting because it allows us to discuss anarchist ideas in a non-old-fashioned way — not through public lectures, courses, or boring academic papers. Instead, we encountered anarchism through punk band songs, films, and other exciting subcultures.

Sometimes I wonder: what would have happened if anarchism had been discussed and its spirit conveyed in academic circles? In Indonesian society, anarchism is often misunderstood, and the term “anarchist” is associated with a person who sows chaos, violence, and disorder. While this is not entirely incorrect, anarchism also includes ideas of harmony, mutual aid, and freedom.

Mainstream media played a significant role in distorting the meaning of anarchism, leading to the realization that the media is no longer a reliable source of truth and the voice of the people. At this point, alternative information channels for the anarchist movement emerged and spread, covering large cities in Indonesia, blending with punk zines and underground trends of the 90s. This movement continued to develop in Indonesia: some groups became stronger, while others remained active in the form of distros, collectives, and book publishers for several years.

— How do you assess the current political situation in Indonesia? What major processes are taking place in the country right now? And what role does the anarchist movement play in them?

— The current president of Indonesia, Prabowo Subianto, was once the son-in-law of the dictator Suharto. During his father-in-law’s regime, known as the “New Order,” Prabowo led a number of secret operations, including the abductions of several radical activists. Evidence of his involvement in these crimes is documented in the book *Kronik Penculikan Aktivis dan Kekerasan Negara 1998* (“Chronicle of the Abduction of Activists and State Violence in 1998”) by Muhidin M. Dahlan, as well as in many other books on similar topics.

During the presidential campaign, Prabowo’s dark past resurfaced and became the subject of criticism from various groups, including former activists who once opposed him. However, the irony is that some of these activists have now chosen to support Prabowo. Despite all this, his past did not prevent him from winning the election.

Less than a year after he came to power, alarming developments began to unfold. One of them was the passing of the Indonesian Armed Forces (TNI) law today, on March 20, 2025. Amendments to this law have sparked serious debate and concern over the growing role of the military in civilian politics. This echoes the Suharto era, when the principle of *Dwifungsi ABRI* (“Dual Function of the Indonesian Armed Forces”) allowed the military to control not only security but also politics, infiltrating all areas of civilian governance. Now, with the ratification of the TNI law, it seems Prabowo is attempting to reestablish military dominance in Indonesian politics.

Over the past few months, protests by students and civil society organizations have been gaining momentum. Some of them have been organized by anti-authoritarian and anarchist groups. Today, the protests reached their peak: large crowds have occupied government buildings. Some participants have been seen trying to involve schoolchildren and other segments of society in attacks on various targets, going beyond just bureaucratic institutions.

— In many countries, students have been key driving forces of change. Who is currently at the forefront of the opposition movement in Indonesia?

— It’s pretty much the same — students still make up a significant part of the protest movement. Take, for example, the reformist movement. You can find information about it online and watch documentaries to see how many footprints covered the squares in front of government buildings. I’m not exaggerating; I just want today’s students to compare and reflect — where do they stand in comparison to the students of the past?

Today, students are no longer a radical force. They do not serve the revolution; they are merely allies of the government. Their protests and demonstrations are no more than corrective measures aimed at reforming the system, not dismantling it. From this point on, if we hear them shouting about revolution, we should silence them by tearing a piece off their student jackets.

Now, the role of the opposition is in the hands of dissenters. I wouldn’t call them anarchists, because I know that not everyone who labels themselves as such is directly involved in open resistance.

— Which political movements are shaping the public agenda the most? Which of them are the most influential?

— In fact, there are many movements influencing the public agenda. Some of them have roots in the past, such as the victims of repression during the reform period, as these issues remain unresolved to this day.

From the reformist movement to trade union activism, the struggle for equality, social justice, and environmental protection—each of these has its own conflicts and challenges, making them difficult to compare. However, one interesting feature of these movements is that almost all of them intersect and compete for attention on social media.

Today, social media has become the main tool for mobilization—whether it’s to protest laws or highlight specific issues. I often notice in my feed that both friends and strangers trust the power of social media more than the state’s judicial system. However, this shouldn’t be seen as entirely positive, as social media has also become a platform for condemnation, no less problematic than the traditional judicial system. Opinions spread through social media can easily manipulate public opinion in the interests of those in power, such as through state “bots” (buzzers) spreading propaganda.

— Are there opposition movements in the country that disagree with the state’s course, aside from anarchists?

— Opposition groups in Indonesia have changed over time. In the past, the main opponents of the state were Islamist fundamentalist groups due to their terrorist attacks and efforts to create their own state. However, over time, the focus of the opposition has shifted.

Strong critics of the Indonesian government have become indigenous peoples fighting for environmental protection—ranging from the conflict in Halmahera to protests by tribes in remote areas. Their struggle finds support among activists, researchers, and anarchists. The independence movement in West Papua has been ongoing for several decades. Additionally, opposition includes communities suffering from forced evictions and state infrastructure projects.

These groups are not legally recognized, and their legitimacy is completely rejected by the state. Although they have some public support, it is only manifested in limited spaces. The state deliberately fragments society into separate conflict hotspots, forcing each group to fight for itself. As a result, support remains at the level of symbolic gestures.

— Are there repressions in the country? How do they manifest? What role does the police play? In Belarus, for example, they have gained absolute power.

— Repressions do exist, and the main repressive institution is the Indonesian state. No one will defend or attribute any other cause except the state itself. It uses its security forces to oppress its own people.

For example, recently, the level of police repression has noticeably increased. Less than a week ago, the Surakarta (Central Java) police dispersed a charitable event—a street library, a free market, and a Food Not Bombs action organized by the group Para Medis Jalanan Solo and other collectives.

Another case is the repression against the post-punk band Sukatani. Their song “Bayar, Bayar, Bayar” was banned after a video of their concert went viral and received positive feedback. The police publicly revealed the identities of two band members, leading to one of them being fired from their teaching position.

Despite this, Sukatani received widespread support. Meanwhile, the police distanced themselves from their role in the musician’s dismissal.

— I understand that anarchism in Indonesia has a subcultural character. Are there many music groups, concert venues, squats, and alternative spaces in the country?

— Yes, there are many, and some of them continue their activities steadily. Each city has its own circles, and although their political views may differ—from individualists to syndicalists—they come together in moments of shared struggle.

Some places, like the former Tamansari in Bandung before it was demolished, were centers where concerts and book discussions took place every week. Dago Elos remains such a place today, although the media stopped actively covering its activities after its residents won in court.

The squat scene in Salatiga also thrived under the influence of RSO Betlehem but was displaced by the local community due to prejudice against the poor and homeless.

There are also well-known venues, such as Klab Racun in Bandung, as well as publishing houses like Rilsan Talas Press, Daun Malam, Pustaka Catut, Penerbit Ramu, and others.

Experiments in creating autonomous spaces continue, for example, self-published zine libraries with classic anarchist literature are opening. It’s a whole separate world, and perhaps Belarusian comrades will one day be able to visit us and see it all with their own eyes.

— Can you tell us about a few places worth visiting if someone comes to Indonesia?

— I’m not sure what to recommend. It’s better if you come to us, and we’ll show you the worthwhile places in Indonesia — other than just Bali, haha.

— And the final question. Are there political prisoners in Indonesia? If so, what sentences do they receive?

— Of course, the list was updated just yesterday. One of our comrades was sentenced to six years in prison (this is an approximate figure — something may have changed already). Ilyas Sidik was arrested for drug possession; he needed cannabis to treat a nerve condition in his hand, which he has been suffering from for a long time.

If you want to know other names, you can follow Serikat Tahanan (Union of Prisoners) and Palang Hitam Anarkis (Anarchist Black Cross). These two groups consistently defend prisoners’ rights and advocate for the abolition of the prison system.

At the end of the article, if the knowledge gained from it was not enough for you to form an opinion about Indonesia, you can read additional material “Anarchists on the Wave of Protests in Indonesia” on the “Pramenya” website.