It has always been a matter of national pride that independence came to Indonesia not as the result of a negotiated transfer of sovereignty, though the process was completed in that way, but through a struggle of heroic proportions in whose fires the nation itself was forged. The revolution, indeed, is central to the Republic's perception of itself. To call it a revolution is, of course, to beg a number of important questions. What is a revolution? Is the concept, developed in modern thought on the models of the French and Russian revolutions, applicable to a nationalist struggle for independence? Or must a revolution involve also a transfer of power from one social class to another and a subsequent social transformation? For Indonesians looking back to the birth of the nation, however, such questions do not arise. For them there is no question but that the events of 1945-49 constituted a revolution, a revolution that is seen as the supreme act of national will, the symbol of national self-reliance and, for those caught up in it, as a vast emotional experience in which the people -- the people as a whole -- participated directly. The exploration of Sjahrir's recruitment of a group of followers during the Japanese Occupation and of the character and attitudes of the group is based, in large measure, on interviews with its surviving members. A highly articulate body of people, they clearly enjoyed recalling their youth, remembering particular experiences, and thinking back on the issues that had preoccupied them and the ideas that had excited them as students. For many of them it had obviously been a golden age, perceived all the more vividly now because the world they had hoped for had never come into being. There is, perhaps, a good deal of nostalgia in their memories of what it was like to be a part of a crucial period in their country's history and no doubt some misjudgment about the parts they played. Oral history is a risky business, given the fallibility of human memory and the tendency for interviewer and subject alike to collaborate in re-shaping the past in the light of their later perspectives. The dangers of such a method are discussed below. Nevertheless, provided it is kept in mind that memories are documents of the present and not of the period with which they deal, it is important to gather these recollections while members of the generation in question are still alive.

In this lively book, Benedict R. O'G. Anderson explores the cultural and political contradictions that have arisen from two critical facts in Indonesian history: that while the Indonesian nation is young, the Indonesian nation is ancient originating in the early seventeenth-century Dutch conquests; and that contemporary politics are conducted in a new language. Bahasa Indonesia, by peoples (especially the Javanese) whose cultures are rooted in medieval times. Analyzing a spectrum of examples from classical poetry to public monuments and cartoons, Anderson deepens our understanding of the interaction between modern and traditional notions of power, the mediation of power by language, and the development of national consciousness. Language and Power, now republished as part of Equinox Publishing's Classic Indonesia series, brings together eight of Anderson's most influential essays over the past two decades and is essential reading for anyone studying the Indonesian country, people or language. Benedict Anderson is one of the world's leading authorities on Southeast Asian nationalism and particularly on Indonesia. He is Professor of International Studies and Director of the Modern Indonesia Project at Cornell University, New York. His other works include Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism and The Spectre of Comparisons: Nationalism, Southeast Asia, and the World.

Professor Kahin's classic 1952 study, reprinted for a contemporary audience. An immediate, vibrant portrait of a nation in the age of revolution, featuring interviews with many of the chief players. With new illustrations and a new introduction by Benedict R. O'G. Anderson.

Professor Kahin's classic 1952 study, reprinted for a contemporary audience. An immediate, vibrant portrait of a nation in the age of revolution, featuring interviews with many of the chief players. With new illustrations and a new introduction by Benedict R. O'G. Anderson.

A Certain Age is an unconventional, evocative work of history and a moving reflection on memory, modernity, space, time, and the limitations of traditional historical narratives. Rudolf Mrázek visited Indonesia throughout the 1990s, recording lengthy interviews with elderly intellectuals in and around Jakarta. With few exceptions, they were part of an urban elite born under colonial rule and educated at Dutch schools. From the early twentieth century, through the late colonial era, the national revolution, and well into independence after 1945, these intellectuals injected their ideas of modernity, progress, and freedom into local and national discussion. When Mrázek began his interviews, he expected to discuss phenomena such as the transition from colonialism to postcolonialism. His interviewees, however, wanted to share more personal recollections. Mrázek illuminates their stories of the past with evocative depictions of their late-twentieth-century surroundings. He brings to bear insights from thinkers including Walter Benjamin, Bertold Brecht, Le Corbusier, and Marcel Proust, and from his youth in Prague, another metropolis with its own experience of passages and revolution. Architectural and spatial tropes organize the book. Thresholds, windowsills, and sidewalks come to seem more apt as descriptors of historical transitions than colonial and postcolonial, or modern and postmodern. Asphalt roads, homes, classrooms, fences, and windows organize movement, perceptions, and selves in relation to others. A Certain Age is a portal into questions about how the past informs the present and how historical accounts are inevitably partial and incomplete.

This book explores the role of intellectuals and governance processes in post-authoritarian Indonesia. Focusing on East Java, the author argues that intellectuals have played an increasingly direct and practical role in the exercise of governance at the local level of Indonesian politics. The book provides insights into how the collaboration between intellectuals and local politico-business elites has shaped good governance and democratic institution-building, validating power structures that continue to obstruct political participation in the country. In addition, the book also delves into the contribution of local intellectuals in resolving the contradictions between technocratic ideas and governance practices, in the interest of local elites. Empirical studies included in the book add to the broader literature on the social role of intellectuals, highlighting their role as not just defined by their capacity to produce and circulate knowledge, but also by their particular position in concrete social and political struggle. The author also explores the manner in which relationships between intellectuals, business and political elites and NGOs in local political and economic practices, intersect with national-level contests over power and resources.

Recent scholarly work on nationalism has revealed the importance of the nation imagined as a community. The subjects of these works, however, have been largely political speeches, polemical essays, and radical journalism. Missing has been the one literary genre where the individual's commitment to the imagining of the nation is most explicitly addressed: autobiography. In looking critically at eight autobiographical works, all concerned in one way or another with the question of what it means to be an Indonesian in the twentieth century, C.W. Watson demonstrates the value of reading autobiographies as accounts of nation-building. Opening with a critique of a turn-of-the-century collection of letters by an aristocratic Javanese now celebrated as the founder of the women's movement in Indonesia, Watson goes on to consider the autobiography of another Javanese who was coopted into the Dutch colonial service and whose reflections on his relationships with senior Dutch officials lay bare the dynamics of the process of twentieth-century colonialism. Other autobiographies by writers and religious figures from Sumatra and Java who actively participated in the struggle of the nationalist movement in the 1930s and 1940s are also carefully scrutinized. The final chapter considers how autobiographies written by a younger generation of Indonesians in the late 1980s reconsider Indonesian nationalism in the light of a commitment to a modernist Muslim perspective on the nation.