In this trilogy Remco Vermeulen, Advisor Indonesia, searches for the shared past and shared future of the Netherlands and Indonesia. His personal journey of discovery leads from his own family history to today’s dynamic debate of cultural cooperation. Through this journey, his subjective and nostalgic image of Indonesia develops along with the complex and modern image in which many personal histories define the relationship between both countries. 

The sun slowly sets behind the trees, but the heat of the day still lingers above the water. In the shadows of the trees around the pond young people are hanging out and talking. There is a wifi spot so most of them are buried in their smartphones. Behind them stately homes: some modern and so big that they dwarf the neighbouring houses. Others still under construction. Here and there weathered orange tiled roofs of dilapidated colonial villas. Somewhere along this pond, at the Jalan Lembang in Menteng, Jakarta, my mother, aunt and grandparents were living in the 1970s. 

Young people relaxing at Taman Jalan Lembang, Menteng, 2016  

Young people look ahead 
It is August 2016 and I am in Jakarta for the first time. At the Erasmus Huis, the cultural centre of the Netherlands Embassy, I attend a symposium on heritage management and the importance of historical research. Around me remarkably many young people are sitting. 

Indonesian youth have an enormous interest in the exotic Netherlands and in the shared aspects of our cultures and histories. Their parents grew up with resentment to the Dutch occupation, their grandparents either think back nostalgically to the Dutch period or never speak about it due to personal traumas. But Indonesian millennials tour across Taman Fatahillah (former Stadhuisplein) on coloured bikes as tourist in own country: the former colonial capital Batavia is now a popular hang-out. 

Cycling at Taman Fatahillah with Museum Sejarah Jakarta in the background, 2016 

The Erasmus Huis, which celebrates its 50th anniversary in 2020, is a beacon of cultural diplomacy. Here bilateral relations between the Netherlands and Indonesia are strengthened, with culture as binder. Think of a Dutch photographer who wants to open an exhibition in Indonesia, Indonesian students who want to pursue education in the Netherlands or Dutch and Indonesian entrepreneurs who want to set up a cultural venture together.  

The Erasmus Huis dedicates itself to strengthening cultural cooperation between the Netherlands and Indonesia, improving the image of the Netherlands with the Indonesian people and stimulating knowledge exchange. Objectives that are now more current than ever. To enable exchange, ears and eyes in the cultural sectors of Indonesia and the Netherlands are needed. The Erasmus Huis fulfils this role in Indonesia, DutchCulture in the Netherlands.

From policy to personal stories
Indonesia is an important country for the Netherlands because of the shared history. In the Dutch international cultural policy, Indonesia is included among other countries in the so called Shared Cultural Heritage programme. DuchCulture and other organizations actively stimulate cultural cooperation with these countries. 

Examples of projects that have been supported by this programme are publications of (colonial) architecture such as ‘The Life and Work of Thomas Karsten’ by Joost Coté and Hugh O’Neill and ‘Building in Indonesia 1600-1960’ by Cor Passchier; tools to strengthen local knowledge and awareness such as the Digging4Data toolkit and a professional training on adaptive reuse of industrial heritage in Sawahlunto (Sumatra); and photography projects visualizing personal, often emotional, stories such as ‘The Widows of Rawagede’ by Suzanne Liem and ‘The People Behind the Seawall’ by Cynthia Boll.

Ibu Taswi, photo from ‘The widows of Rawagede’ (Collection Suzanne Liem)

Cultural cooperation helps bringing forward personal stories that make the shared past tangible. For me this means that I cherish and keep alive the memories of my grandfather who was born in Surabaya (East-Java). That the nasi goreng after my mum’s recipe is more than just my favourite dish. That the restoration of the Gedung Arsip Nasional (formerly known as Reinier de Klerk Huis) by construction company Decorient has more meaning because my grandfather was director of that company in the 1970s. 

When I visited Jakarta for the first time in August 2016 I visited this beautiful building. It was restored in 1995 with funds put together by a number of major Dutch companies with economic interests in Indonesia. Decorient also turns out to have constructed the current Netherlands Embassy and adjacent Erasmus Huis; led by my grandfather the negotiations with the Ministry of Foreign Affairs were advanced. The complex was eventually finished in 1981. 

Shared history, shared future? 
The Netherlands and Indonesia have a shared history that goes back to the Golden Age. We all know the glorious stories of the Dutch East India Company, of the majestic ships sailing back from the East loaded with pepper, tin, ivory or china which made the Netherlands a rich and powerful country. Much fewer people are aware of the dark chapters of this shared past: slaves who suffered in households, on plantations or in mines, children fathered by Dutch men with local women and who were taken away from their mothers to be shaped into Dutch-Indo model citizens in orphanages. Or the excessive violence that was used by the Dutch army during the Indonesian War of Independence between 1945 and 1949. 

A Dutch military patrol in Indonesia, 1949 (Photo: ANP)

Today there is a growing interest for the Dutch-Indonesian shared past, of which the collective memory is slowly being revised. Research into the period 1945-1949 in Indonesia commissioned by the Dutch government is making Dutch newspaper headlines. This also happened when the book ‘De tolk van Java’ by Alfred Birney won the Libris Literature Prize last year. At DutchCulture we see that of all project proposals we receive for our Shared Cultural Heritage Matching Fund, a clear majority consists of projects on Indonesia and contribute to mutual reflection on the shared past of the Netherlands and Indonesia. Recently we have supported the photography project ‘I Love Banda’ of Isabelle Boon, a publication on the Dutch administrator in Aceh Friedrich Wilhelm Stammeshaus by John Klein Nagelvoort, and a book tour through Indonesia by Maarten Hidskes who spoke with descendants, veterans and academics about their memories of the Indonesian War of Independence.  

A special relationship
Young Indonesians with whom I am in touch regularly, also recognize the importance of a shared cultural future for the Netherlands and Indonesia. For Putri Melati (25, architectural researcher) understanding the shared past with the Netherlands is key to understanding the complex puzzle of Indonesia’s history. Rezki Dikaputera (25, architect) adds that Indonesian archives with Dutch documents should be accessible to young academics and heritage professionals. Ashdianna Rahmatasari (33, planner) and Punto Wijayanto (40, university lecturer) both think that Dutch expertise can help with challenges Indonesia is currently facing, whether in heritage management, water management or urban planning. 

Jakarta Heritage Academy participants, among which Putri Melati (third from left) and Rezki Dikaputera (fifth from left) in Erasmus Huis, August 2016 

Sandwiched between two massive concrete residences – one still under construction – a low house with a tiled roof and a somewhat kitschy colonnade is standing strong. Through the high, sealed off entrance gate I cannot see whether this is a new building or it just received a big facelift. But it does not matter. It is 2016 and in the middle of chaotic and overwhelming Jakarta I have found the house where my mother used to live. For me this is the place where past, present and the future come together. 

<< Read back Part 1 - Building the Dutch East Indies 
< Read back Part 2 - Building Indonesia

In this trilogy Remco Vermeulen, Advisor Indonesia, searches for the shared past and shared future of the Netherlands and Indonesia. His personal journey of discovery leads from his own family history to today’s dynamic debate of cultural cooperation. Through this journey, his subjective and nostalgic image of Indonesia develops along with the complex and modern image in which many personal histories define the relationship between both countries. 

My first image of Indonesia was shaped by the many stories my grandfather, or opi as we used to call him, told me as a little boy, and which he put in writing in the 1990s. His stories sketch an image of a carefree childhood in the Dutch East Indies. 

Sawahs at Singosari, 2015 (Collection Daphne Vermeulen)

Early childhood
In 1934 my opi’s brother builds a house in the village of Singosari, about 90 kilometres south of Surabaya, East Java. It is one of those typical Indo-European (or ‘Indo’) residences of the upper middle class, with all living quarters on the ground floor, shadowy verandas and high roofs with tiles and small openings for ventilation. My opi is about ten years old when he moves to Singosari with his parents, which is a small village amidst rice fields and tropical forests. After school he runs around with his dog and shoots pigeons with a small airgun. He has kite fights with the kampong children or helps his mother with baking Indo delicacies such as spekkoek, mocha cakes or koningskronen. In Surabaya, the big city, where he attends the Koningin Emma technical high school, he goes to the movies with his school friends who have Indo-Chinese, Dutch, Indo, Portuguese-Indo and Javanese backgrounds. Later, he goes to dancing evenings at the Indo Europees Verbond, at the Oranje Hotel or the Sociëteit with his older sister and brother-in-law. 
 
The road 'Gemblongan' with busy car traffic, Soerabaja, ca. 1930 (Collection Nationaal Museum van Wereldculturen)

Different memories
The memories of my opi have become my memories, like romantic scenes of an epic movie. Not long ago I reread his memoires. It still strikes me how multicultural he sketches the 1930s society of the Dutch East Indies. The light-heartedness he describes was of course partly due to his innocent, possibly naive, young perspective. But my opi was a man with a remarkably positive attitude. During the annual commemoration of the end of the Second World War in the Dutch East Indies on 15 August in The Hague, years ago, when one of the speakers held an emotional recitation of the traumatic experiences of his father in a Japanese internment camp, opi turned to me and whispered “it was not all that bad”. Had my opi, as an adventurous teenager, been lucky during his own internment? Or was this his way of comforting me or himself, as protection against the horrors so many had experienced in the Japanese internment camps or under heavy forced labour? I can no longer ask him these questions. But his memories, exceptionally detailed, remain. They stir my curiosity to the old and new Indonesia.  

Stimulated by my work at DutchCulture I am increasingly realizing that the memories of my grandfather are only showing one side of Indonesia’s history. I know that many other personal stories and memories are by far not as beautiful as his. All those different stories and memories are becoming increasingly visible in the Netherlands and Indonesia, and they stimulate me to view my own family history in a new and broader context. 

From trade to occupation
The multicultural society in the Dutch East Indies of my grandfather is partly caused by the Dutch colonial government, but has been part of the character of the archipelago since the dawn of time. In the Iron Age small islands are inhabited by different ethnical groups. The fertile volcanic soil offers a wealth of fauna and especially flora, of which the value is increasingly recognized: cinnamon, nutmeg, pepper and later on sugarcane, coffee, rubber, oil and so on. With boats the Chinese, the Arabs, the Portuguese and also the Dutch come to the archipelago to exploit the natural resources and to trade. The Dutch, led by the Dutch East India Company, settle permanently in the archipelago to protect their trade interests. Violence is not avoided here. On strategical locations fortresses and harbours are constructed. Batavia is the capital city. 

The castle of Batavia. Andries Beekman, ca. 1656 (Collection Rijksmuseum)

Dutch and other Europeans are encouraged to settle in the colonies and beget ‘loyal’ offspring with local women. Only when the Dutch East India Company goes bankrupt in 1798 and all its property is appropriated by the state, the Dutch presence is expanded enormously at the expense of the sovereignty of local rulers and population. Initially the colonial government practices a so-called policy of abstention: the centralized government in Batavia is limited to Java and Ambon while on other, more remote islands cooperation agreements with local rulers are signed. In the second half of the nineteenth century the colonial government expands its power, by example of the British Empire, to the islands of Sumatra, Borneo, Celebes, Bali and Timor. Expansion is going hand in hand with bloody conflicts. 

Cultural exchanges
Until then the archipelago is primarily a cash cow for the Dutch: natural resources are exploited on a large scale, shipped to the Netherlands for processing and sold for solid profits. Only in the late 1800s, under pressure of rising emancipation in Europe and out of an ‘ideal of civilization’, the colonial government reluctantly starts investing in society. Education (in Dutch!) and social facilities become accessible to (some parts of) society and regions get more self-determination. At the same time the Dutch living in the Dutch East Indies dress for special occasions in local dress of batik shirts, sarongs and kebajas. Meanwhile the famous ‘Indische rijsttafel’ becomes a status symbol of colonial hospitality equivalent to European banquets. Dutch and Indo architects integrate local architectural styles and elements with western Art Deco, Amsterdam School and Modernist styles into the New Indies Style. 

Villa Isola (1933), Bandung, designed by Wolff Schoemaker in Art Deco style, 2016   

Leaving the Dutch East Indies
Although the colonial government in Batavia primarily invests in Dutch - and to a lesser extent in Indo - citizenship, education and self-determination create more awareness and longing for independence among local communities. At the beginning of the twentieth century Indonesian nationalism is born. Representatives of this new movement try to enforce reforms with the colonial government. They only partly succeed, but when the colonial government is ousted after the invasion of Japan in 1942, there is no way back. After the surrender of Japan in 1945 the Indonesian nationalists take power. The Netherlands does not accept this and the Indonesian War of Independence is a fact. Eventually Indonesia gains its independence, and the Dutch acknowledge the new Republic of Indonesia in 1949. 

MS Kota Baroe, on which my opi werd repatriated, in the harbour of Port Said, ca. 1946 (Collection Koninklijke Rotterdamsche Lloyd Museum)

At that time my opi does no longer live in his country of birth. He is one of the first to make use of the possibility to repatriate in 1947. Aged 22, he ventures to the Netherlands, a country where he had not been before but of which he speaks the language and has the nationality. 

Read further Part 2 - Building Indonesia >
Read further Part 3 - Building a shared future >>