Night walk of the ghosts (Canberra Times, 14 April 1966)

The Canberra Times (1966-04-14) - Night walk of the ghosts Source: Trove, National Library of Australia - https://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article128653135 Date retrieved: 2026-10-17 OCR text (uncorrected) follows. 14 Apr 1966 - Night walk of the ghosts Canberra Times (ACT: 1926 - 1995), Thursday 14 April 1966, page 2 Although the events of September 30, 1965 may seem distant, the question of who acted against whom in Indonesia not only remains slightly mysteriousbut is also relevant to the working out of forceswithin Indonesia today. This reconstruction of theevents of September 30-October I, is written by an Indonesian in Djakarta who wishes to remainanonymous. Some of the details have been confirmed by other sources — some appear here for, we believe, the first time.Night walk ofthe ghostsOCCASIONALLY,as dusk falls over Indonesia, the sky gleams with an odd,blood-red twilight. The village people call it Night-Walk of the Ghosts. September 30, 1965, was such an evening. The dawn that followed ushered in one of the bloodiest periods in history.The full story of what happened on that night has not yet been told. Censorship in Djakarta has been absolute, newspapermen few.The tale begins beneath the soaring National Monument in Djakarta, with its enormous flame of solid gold. In a nearby hall a group of engineers and technical workers were gathered that evening, listening with proper attention.On stage stood President Sukarno—Great Leader of the Revolution, Prime Minister, Great Shepherd of Indonesian Progressive Women, Supreme Fisherman, Supreme Peasant. Dressed in his customary style —full uniform, dark glasses, black songkok hat to hide his baldness — he was in full rhetorical flow. His theme, as usual, was the need to "forge the revolution" in the face of imperialist machinations.Suddenly, in mid-sentence, the President faltered. He turned white, half fell, and had to be assisted from the platform. In an ante-room, a group of Chinese doctors, sent by Mao Tsc-tung 1o try to cure Sukarno of the kidney complaint which has. several limes come near to killing * him, rushed to his aid.]n the hall below there.was general uproar and a. sympathetic surge towafifc the platform. One figure, however, made quietly and quickly for the exit. Short, with a shock of shaggy black hair sind'goitrous eyes, the departing guest was Dipa Nusanlara Aidit, Chairman of the IndonesianCommunist Parly, or PKi.At 42, Aidit looked like a man within reach of the goal for which he had worked since, as a boy, he first became a Communist. Gaoling by the British and Dutch, and a narrow escape from death after the first Communist coup in Indonesia in 1948, had only sharpened his sense of purpose.In the weeks prior to September 30, Aidit—never renowned for tact and modesty — had become increasingly outspoken and outrageous in his behaviour. Not only was he demanding greater power for the PKI, he was openly attacking members of the Cabinet and even (mirabile dictu) Sukarno himself.Yet Aidit had a particular interest in keeping.Sukarno alive. While Sukarno lived, the PKI would be able to continue unimpeded its infiltration' of the Army, the youth organisations, and the apparatus of Stale. With three million votes and the support of perhaps another 20 million supporters in the trade unions, peasants' front and youth and women's organisations under its control, (he PKI wielded formidable power. Sukarno could not risk its antagonism.Lieut.-Colonel UniuvgPrecariously astride the various factions in Indonesia which he had hopefully welded into his "Nasokom" Cabinet the President had no option but to give the PK1 itshead.At a pessimistic estimate, Aidit probably believed that within a couple of years he would be boss of a Communist Indonesia, meeting on equal terms with China's Mao, North Vietnam's Ho and Russia's Kosygin.But if Sukarno were to die now... it would have to be all or nothing: a dramatic bid for power before the largely anti-Communist Army leadership could crush the PKI as they had done seven yearsearlier at Madiun.Aidit hurried from the hall. Elsewhere in Djakarta sat a strange, lonely soldier called Lieutenant-Colonel Untung. Like so many of the puppet figures who have recently been catapulted into fame in coups in various parts of the world—and even more quicklyhundled off into obscurity or dealh — Untung's make-up seems to have included ability and naivety in equal parts. A young collaborator with the Japanese, turned fervent nationalist overnight in 1945, he had fought his way throughthe ranks.Now Untung — a deeply superstitious man — thought the stars were in his favour. At 39, he had rcachcd command of a battalion of the Tjakrabirawa Regiment — the Presidential Guard. He had the car of Sukarno himself. Greater fame, he was convinced, lay ahead.The call came that evening. From Aidit or an emissary, Untung heard of Sukarno's dramatic collapse. The moment was ripe. He swiftly pressed into action contingency plans which had beenlaid for some weeks.Just after midnight on October I, Col. Untung's troops alerted gangs of Communist youths and girls who had been specially trained in secret Air Force and Army camps — ostensibly for the "crushing" of neighbouring Malaysia, but in fact for this' moment. They hoarded Army lorries and Russian vehicles supplied for Indonesia's "peaceful" development. From hidden caches they drew arms and ammunition, smuggled into the country from Communist China in crates labelled "construction materials".By dawn Untung's forces had captured the radio station, the telephone exchange, the Post Office and the Presidential Palace. They controlled the harbour and military installations in Djakarta, and all mainroads.At 7aiii Radio Indonesia broadcast a statement in Untung's name, claiming that the Movement of September 30 had acted to forestall a coup by theDipa Nusauinra AidilArmy "aided by the CIA." J.ater (hat day radio monitors in the outside world heard that ihe Cabinet had been abolished, and a Revolutionary Council formed. At its head was Unuing. Other members jncludcd the Foreign Minister, Dr Subandrio (of whom more anon), several Communis,ts and a number of respectables and unknowns.Meanwhile, in the small hours of the morning, Unlung's most ruthless lieutenants had been engaged in a bloody business: the massacre of the top leadership of the Army.High on the murder list was the name of General Ahmad Yani. Commander-in-Chief of the Army, and an outspoken critic of Communis.ts. Yani was at home in bed when a pistol shot blew in the lock ofhis front door.Still clad in pyjamas, he rushed through the house to he met by uniformed officers of the Presidential Guard. They had come, they said, from Sukarno. He, Yani, was to accompany them immediately tothe Palace.Yani, suspicious both of Ihe command and the way in which it was delivered, refused to go. There was, a brief struggle, and, in vie.w of his wife and several of his eightchildren, he was shot dead in, his living room. His body was bundled in a carpet and hurried from the balcony to a lorry waiting below. It was, as it turned out, a merciful end.Of the others who were topay with their lives for Untung's ambition, only General Harjono jvas lucky. He, too, died a soldier's death. The others — Generals Suprapto, Parman, Pandjaitan and Sutojo — were captured, bound, thrown into lorries besides the bodies of Yani and Harjono, and taken to Ihe air base at Halim. some seven miles from Djakarta.There young Communists had been gathering sine? 3am. They had been told to "get ready for some excitement".(To be concluded tomorrow)