I N D O N E S I A

indonesia

We knew very little about Indonesia and had no particular interest in it [under Stalin]. During my many years of interaction with Stalin I don’t remember a single conversation about Indonesia, not even one reference to it. He showed no interest in it, and what he might have known about it specifically, I couldn’t say. There was never any discussion in the Soviet leadership about the people living there, at least not when I was present. The first time we began to talk about Indonesia at the Central Committee Presidium level was in 1955, at the time of the signing of the Bandung Declaration.1 At that time the whole world’s attention was riveted on Indonesia, and the name of

its president, Sukarno,2 began to appear regularly in the Soviet press.

[ ]

OPENING A W IND OW ONTO THE THIRD WORLD

As is generally known, the Soviet leadership read not only its own newspapers but also the summaries and excerpts provided by [the Soviet press agency] TASS, based on press reports from around the world. At first, in accordance with an established tradition, we were given a fairly voluminous packet every day, so large in fact that we were unable to manage all of it. Therefore I asked my assistants to make a selection of the material, singling out those items that could be considered most interesting and important. But here too there was a negative aspect. Since my assistants were sifting through the material in advance, that made them the judges, as it were, of what I should read and what was not deserving of my attention. Sometimes there were differences between the members of the leadership and their assistants on how to evaluate the importance of the material being sifted through, and consequently some material did not reach us. As a result I returned to the former practice of reading all the TASS summaries myself and thus finding out what I needed. And that applied to Indonesia as well.

We established diplomatic relations with Indonesia while Stalin was still alive.3 Gradually the fate of Indonesia attracted our attention more closely, and we began to take a constant interest in it. It deserved our attention then, as it does now. It is a huge, multiethnic country, spread out across a large number of islands, with a population of more than 100 million, a wealthy and very beautiful country. The various peoples of Indonesia will still make themselves heard and show their ability to take a new path in spite of the savage repression directed against the left-wing forces in 1965.4

Sometime after the CPSU’s Twentieth Congress, President Sukarno first came to visit us [that is, in August–September 1956]. We welcomed him with the honors that were his due. He impressed us as an educated man and above all an intelligent man. After all, education and intelligence don’t always go together. I have met many educated people who were not very intelligent, and the other way around, people who had not received systematic education but on the other hand had brilliant minds. In Sukarno’s case he had both education and intelligence. We established good relations with him right away. We liked him. The president outlined the principles of his policies, which were aimed at neutrality and nonalignment with any military bloc. Even before us Indonesia had established normal relations with Yugoslavia. Sukarno’s character was such that he was drawn toward Tito. Yugoslavia was less harsh than the other countries that were building socialism and pursuing MarxistLeninist policies. There were more freedoms in Yugoslavia. That’s why Tito’s line impressed Sukarno more than ours. As for me, I think to this day that we correctly followed Marxist-Leninist doctrine and adhered strictly to class

[ ]

I N D O N E S I A

positions. Of course many things in the policies we followed turned out to be alien [to Marxism; the Russian word here is nanosny]. Although they were proclaimed to be Marxist-Leninist, in fact they had been imposed as a result of Stalinist thinking and did not correspond to the truth of life itself. If we are to talk about the teachings of the founders of scientific socialism, they were in fact carried out in the USSR not according to Lenin’s teachings but in the Stalin way, with perversions and distortions.

So then, we established ties with Indonesia, and gradually it began to turn toward us and request economic assistance.5 In early 1960 Sukarno invited a government delegation of the USSR to visit his country. This was something we wanted and we accepted the proposal.6 Our government delegation consisted of several members of the CPSU Central Committee, and I was entrusted to lead it. As always I was accompanied by Foreign Minister Gromyko,7 as well as by a number of others. We set off for Indonesia in an IL-18 airplane8 by way of India and Burma and landed on the island of Java.9 A magnificent welcoming ceremony was arranged for us, in accordance with our rank and established traditions. A huge number of people came out in the streets. And immediately Indonesia made a very powerful impression on us with its natural beauty and human warmth. The tropical heat, on the other hand, had a stupefying effect on us.10

After all the ceremonies and welcoming speeches, we were taken to a palace assigned to us, the former residence of the viceroy who ruled Indonesia on behalf of the Netherlands. By then we were soaked with perspiration from head to foot, and it was almost impossible to breathe, so dense and oppressive was the atmosphere. The only thing that saved us were the fans in our rooms. They blew on you when you were lying in bed in your bedroom, and they whirled about over the table in the dining room, dispersing the stagnant air. That made existence a little easier, but still it was very difficult for us, especially at night. It was virtually impossible to sleep. On top of that, an enormous number of mosquitoes flew at us, and we had to use mosquito nets as protection against them while we were sleeping.

Before our visit we had concluded a bilateral agreement to deliver Soviet machinery and provide credits for the mining of tin and other valuable minerals. Sukarno had also requested that we build a stadium in the capital of his country, Jakarta, one that would hold many thousands of spectators. It was built by Soviet specialists experienced in such projects. Sukarno invited us to visit the construction site. Only then did I understand that he wanted public opinion to know that as president he was taking a very large part in this operation, acting as its primary initiator. Together with me he carried out some

[ ]

OPENING A W IND OW ONTO THE THIRD WORLD

symbolic act of labor; we pulled a string that started a steam hammer that functioned as a pile driver. All this was done in a rather theatrical manner, but that’s the kind of man he was. For example, when he asked the USSR to build a grandiose and quite expensive stadium in the capital city, I was surprised and suggested that it was not a rational way of spending money.

Indonesia was then still a backward country; real industry was only beginning to be developed; it earned a living by exploiting natural resources and exporting raw materials. Yet suddenly the first thing it wanted was a stadium! “What do you want that for?” I asked Sukarno.

“To hold large public rallies,” he answered.

Theatricality was a negative feature of his. Among the leaders of countries I have known, he distinguished himself in this capacity more than anyone else. Nehru, for example, was a completely different kind of man. Of course the leader of a country has to address large public meetings. But Sukarno displayed a particular weakness for that kind of thing. Generally speaking, he loved to gather a crowd. It seemed he invariably needed an audience, and thus he required a big stage and that was the stadium, which in the end we did build.

The internal situation in Indonesia remained a difficult one. The Communist Party was very large in numbers, but it had not been tempered in struggle, nor had its ranks been firmly consolidated. Its members longed for a better life and went along with Communist slogans, but did not know how to make them a reality. Nevertheless it was a force to be reckoned with; it had placed its representatives in parliament and in the government. Its leader was [Dipa] Aidit, still a young man,11 and devoted to progressive ideas. He sacrificed his life to defend the interests of working people. Other leaders of the Communist Party of Indonesia (CPI) also made a good impression on me. They were bold people, devoted to Marxist-Leninist ideas, and pretty good organizers. They were doing everything they could in their way so that Indonesia would take the road of building socialism.

The country had a powerful stratum of well-to-do people, including descendants of the former Dutch rulers. The contrast between the poverty of the ordinary people and the luxurious palaces of the former aristocracy was striking. The leaders of the new Indonesia had taken up residence in those palaces. I don’t know what property they owned, but it was astonishing how well-dressed they were, especially the women. Their way of life did not correspond in any way to the low economic level of development in their country, and they stood out sharply against the general background [of poverty]. The leaders of the CPI, however, conducted themselves in a worthier manner and thereby won the sympathy of the working people.

[ ]

I N D O N E S I A

The military had enormous power in Indonesia. Outstanding among them was General Nasution, who at that time was the chief of staff of the Indonesian army.12 What kind of impression did he make on me? He was a comparatively young man. In his outward appearance he was well-groomed and handsome, and unquestionably he was intelligent. It was interesting to talk with him. I met with him many times, not only in Indonesia but also in Moscow. He came to the USSR for the purpose of signing a treaty for the provision of military aid to Indonesia and the sale of armaments to it.13 Nasution was quite an influential person in Indonesia, but unfortunately he was drawn more toward the Americans. Not only was he not a member of the Communist Party, but he had a reputation as an enemy of the CPI. Of course in our presence he made no display of his antipathy toward Communists. Nevertheless, he served as the main support on which the reactionary forces relied, those orienting toward capitalist development in Indonesia.

We sold Indonesia several destroyers, submarines, torpedo boats, and cutters armed with [P-15] cruise missiles.14 In the final stage of our relations with Indonesia, under my leadership, we sold it the cruiser Ordzhonikidze, a good ship of postwar design. Bulganin and I had sailed on it when we visited England in 1956.

The submarines we delivered were not outdated, but we had withdrawn them from production. We weren’t building that type any more, but we did still have them in our arsenal. At that time the USSR had moved far ahead in submarine design and production. Later we sold Indonesia many fighter planes and some TU-16 bombers,15 including planes equipped with cruise missiles that were very good planes for those days. At military maneuvers on the Black Sea I had observed these planes destroy target ships with their missiles. This is how they worked: before reaching the target, the pilot fired the missile and guided it by a radio beam. The plane then turned and flew away while the missile closed in on the target, using its own homing systems. At the military maneuvers the missiles from our planes hit their targets with great precision.

During our delegation’s visit to Indonesia, there were local armed detachments on a number of Indonesia’s islands that were waging a battle against the central government. In their ranks were pro-American forces who had received arms from the United States, which we knew about from Soviet intelligence. Nasution was also helping these insurgents but secretly. What do I mean when I say he was helping them? He apparently could not provide them with arms, but he maintained communication with them and provided them with assistance, at least by giving them information about operations the government forces were preparing against them. While I was there, the

[ ]

OPENING A W IND OW ONTO THE THIRD WORLD

government forces captured an American agent during one of these operations against the insurgents. Nasution assisted in having this American freed. The Americans had put pressure on him. He had connections with American intelligence, which we knew from the reports of our intelligence service.

Sukarno was a very mobile man: he spent more time abroad than in his own country. When the reactionary forces, headed by Nasution, were preparing the coup d’état that overthrew Sukarno, the latter was in Japan. From Japan he flew to our country, and in a personal conversation with him I asked: “Do you know that Nasution played a decisive role in freeing that American agent at the insistence of American intelligence?”

Sukarno looked at me inquiringly, paused, and then answered unexpectedly: “Yes, I know about that. That was our joint decision.”

But I had the impression he was not telling the truth. He probably thought it was better to say he knew about it in order to save face. What sense would it have made for Sukarno to have freed this American agent? So that he could continue to fight against the governmental system that existed under Sukarno? Besides, President Sukarno thanked me for the information and asked insistently that in the future I inform him of such things. And we often did inform him.

Sukarno raised the question of incorporating West Irian into Indonesia, and developed a big campaign for this purpose.16 We assumed he was doing the right thing in trying to include this territory as part of Indonesia. A long drawn-out dispute began. Sukarno needed military assistance. It’s precisely then that he purchased the cruiser from us and other naval weaponry. The intensity of the struggle in Indonesia kept increasing. Sukarno was even preparing to take West Irian by military means. But when he became more closely acquainted with the process required to prepare for war, he asked the USSR to provide him with advisers, to teach his people how to operate and make effective use of the submarines, missile boats, torpedo boats, and destroyers. They still had no qualified specialists in that country. We publicly stated our support for Sukarno in his struggle to liberate the entire country, responded positively to his request, and sent specialists to his country, including officers who in fact commanded the submarines, while our pilots were actually flying the TU-16s.

The conflict continued for a long time. During those months the Indonesian foreign minister, Subandrio, came to our country. Before that he had been ambassador to Moscow for a long time. He was a very nice and likable man. He was replaced as ambassador to the Soviet Union, although not right away, by Adam Malik.17 In our view (based on information we received), Malik was on the side of the reactionary forces. Malik opposed a closer relationship

[ ]

I N D O N E S I A

with the Soviet Union and favored capitalist development for Indonesia.18 Subandrio took a progressive position and was a friend of the Soviet Union. He was not a Communist, but it seemed to us that he sympathized with the Communists. He had the reputation of being very close to Sukarno, virtually his righthand man. He enjoyed Sukarno’s complete confidence. Sukarno intended to restructure Indonesia, hand in hand with Subandrio.19

I would not say that Indonesia had made the decision at that time to build socialism. No. Sukarno took a fairly flexible position, and though in principle he stated he was in favor of socialism, it was hard to figure out what kind of socialism he was talking about. Of course he was against reaction and adhered to the principles of a more democratic structure of government. There was no doubt about that. The CPI was able to operate legally under him. He brought people from the CPI into government administration.20 We made a positive assessment of Sukarno’s policies and respected him, although many features of his personality were not acceptable. For example, he was completely unrestrained in his attitude toward women. That was a notable weakness of his. I’m not revealing any secrets here. The newspapers of those times were studded with accounts of his amorous adventures. We condemned that aspect of his behavior, but it is not easy to fight successfully against human weaknesses. We could not understand how an intelligent man, holding such an important post, could allow himself to engage in such escapades in his personal life. This discredited him in international circles as well as in his own country. Some people explained to me that Muslim men look the other way at such actions. But I don’t know, I don’t know . . .

Subandrio had a remarkable wife. During official receptions [at the Indonesian embassy], she sometimes sang Russian songs, and sang them well. This couple, the ambassador and his wife, enjoyed the great respect of the Soviet leadership. All of us.

At the height of the tension over West Irian, Subandrio, who was already foreign minister of Indonesia and Sukarno’s trusted confidant, came to our country. I received him willingly. Subandrio spoke Russian, and we talked with him without an Indonesian interpreter; our conversations were extremely confidential. Our interpreter was present, but only to record the conversation. We discussed the question of our sending military specialists to Indonesia. The Dutch had concentrated substantial military forces in West Irian. They declared they would not surrender the territory, but would fight for it.

I asked Subandrio: “What are the chances that an agreement [with the Dutch] could successfully be reached?”

He answered: “Not very great.”

[ ]

OPENING A W IND OW ONTO THE THIRD WORLD

I said: “If the Dutch fail to display sober-mindedness and engage in military operations, this is a war that could to some extent serve as a proving ground for our pilots who are flying planes equipped with missiles. We’ll see how well our missiles work.”

I allowed myself to say such things because the conversation was strictly confidential. Of course we had openly stated that we were on Indonesia’s side in its struggle against the colonialists. We had always opposed colonial rulers, and we said we would continue to hold that position until such time as colonialism ceased to exist, whether in open or concealed form. This flowed automatically from our convictions; I’m not revealing any special secrets here. One thing I remember in particular: even when uttering the sharpest statements Subandrio invariably had an endearing smile on his face.

From Moscow he flew to the United States. There to our surprise at the State Department he told about the conversation with me in full detail. I was dumbfounded. Sukarno had trusted that Subandrio was his man, but in fact he turned out to be America’s man! When we found out about this, we reported it to Sukarno, but as in the case of Nasution the president did not react. He remained unperturbed, said something soothing and reassuring, and asked me not to attribute any special importance to the matter. After such a reply, I formed the impression that the foreign minister had given his information to the U.S. leaders with the knowledge and possibly on the advice of Sukarno. I continue to hold that view to this day. After all, Sukarno was a man who had his head on his shoulders. What aims was he actually pursuing? Possibly he wanted to put pressure on the Netherlands through the United States. Is that possible? The two governments were allies in NATO, although the United States did not openly sympathize with the Netherlands [over West Irian], because it did not want to ruin its international reputation [with such an association].

Meanwhile through his ambassador [Malik] Sukarno was asking us to send knowledgeable staff officers to help him work out a plan for military operations in the event of a resort to arms. We agreed to this and sent our people to Indonesia. That is, Sukarno was balancing between us and the United States, trying to use both of us to achieve his aims. This indicates that he was capable of constructing various combinations, engaging in elaborate maneuvers. However, this action of his offended us. After all, he had not informed us about everything, and there was much we still did not know.

In fact, as it turned out, the Dutch were informed of the military resources received by Indonesia. Sukarno was demonstrating that he had reliable weapons and that they could be used effectively. In fact the United States advised the Netherlands after that to agree to negotiations.

[ ]

I N D O N E S I A

Washington put pressure on Amsterdam, and after negotiations the Netherlands agreed to the transfer of West Irian to Indonesia.21 A preliminary referendum was held in New Guinea [under UN auspices], and the inhabitants of its western part voted [on May 1, 1963] in favor of joining Indonesia. There was no further need to resort to arms. We were quite pleased. And our people, after having trained the military in Indonesia, returned home safely.

Why did the United States government take the position it did? As an ally of the Netherlands, if the Americans had aided the Dutch [in fighting against the Indonesians], they would have appeared to be aggressors. That they did not want. They wanted to maintain the “purity of their raiment.” They didn’t want to sully their reputation by openly supporting a colonialist policy. As for us, our authority in the eyes of the Indonesians increased. Once again we had shown that we were true friends of the nations fighting for independence, and we had provided aid to Indonesia not just in words but in deeds.

Let me say a few more words about Subandrio, about his two-facedness and his inclination toward maneuvering. When the dramatic events of 1965 occurred in Indonesia, Subandrio was arrested. He was tried and condemned to death. I don’t know if they did kill him, but it was unpleasant for me to read the unworthy way in which he conducted himself at his trial, pleading for his life. With the expectation that it would win him leniency, he declared that as foreign minister he had informed an oppositional Islamic party about secret government decisions.22 Sukarno had taken reprisals against that party, and it had gone underground. Thus, the information we had, that Indonesia’s foreign minister followed a two-faced policy, proved to be correct.

In the early 1960s, with our support, Indonesia achieved its aims in New Guinea. Then Sukarno began a struggle for the complete incorporation of the island of Kalimantan (formerly Borneo) into Indonesia, including its northernmost part [Brunei]. When [in 1963] Malaysia was formed [incorporating two parts of Kalimantan, Sabah and Sarawak],23 Sukarno began a furious campaign. We supported him in the press, but didn’t go beyond that. Sukarno was not successful in his campaign over Kalimantan before the 1965 coup.

Turning to a different subject, I want to talk about the natural surroundings in Indonesia. They are fantastic. The emerald green of the city of Bogor especially impressed me. That’s where the residence of Indonesia’s president was located. Under colonial rule a large and luxurious palace was built there, belonging to the Dutch governor. The distance from Jakarta to Bogor was only 50 kilometers (about 30 miles).24 The road is very picturesque. You are constantly driving past colorful bazaars where huge hawkers’ stands are spread out directly on the ground with heaps of every possible kind of fruit. Not only

[ ]

OPENING A W IND OW ONTO THE THIRD WORLD

had our people never eaten such fruits; they had never even seen them. The palace at Bogor was built of white stone. The layout of the rooms inside was typical of a palace. The architects had done skillful work. The building made a powerful impression with both its outward façade and its interior furnishings. In front of the palace a broad expanse of lawn, well-trimmed in the British manner, stretched out.

When I saw it I remembered my childhood in Kursk gubernia. In the spring, when the peasants celebrated Easter, everything turned bright green the same way. I always remember the joy of spring that everyone in our region experiences after the end of winter. That vast stretch of lawn, looking like an emerald-green meadow, aroused the same feelings in me, and next to it was a small lake. When we entered the Bogor palace I saw large black objects hanging from the branches of the trees. I asked what they were. It turned out they were flying foxes. These creatures, which are a type of bat, live in flocks. They take flight in the evening. Before dusk some individuals drop from the branches and make little test flights, so to speak; then the entire flock rises in the air all at once, like the blackbirds of springtime in Russia. They make a circle around the place where they have spent the day, and then they fly off in search of food. In the morning these nocturnal animals return. They feed on fruit, which turns out to be a genuine disaster for the peasants who own the fruit trees.

The palace at Bogor was located on the edge of a huge, primeval forest. I took a walk in it but I didn’t go far. It made a gloomy impression on me. The sun didn’t penetrate through the canopy of leaves at the top. Down below it was damp, and the trunks of the trees were covered with moss, with water dripping from the leaves. I saw two orangutans who were kept on chains in that forest. They had grown accustomed to their sad situation and were sitting there in a subdued manner with a sad look on their faces. I asked Sukarno: “Why do you keep them chained up? That makes a bad impression.” He said nothing.

During our visit I especially suffered from the climate, as I’ve already mentioned. Everything stuck to your body. Everything was damp, and it was hard to breathe. On the other hand, it was very interesting for me to see everything and take it all in. We saw tropical downpours. A downpour would burst upon you like a squall, a curtain of rain coming toward you with streams of water pouring down. The tropical rainstorm would last about an hour, then stop. Bright sunshine would emerge from behind the clouds. The drops of water on the “greensward” would sparkle in the sun’s rays. Once after a downpour there appeared on the green expanse in front of the palace at Bogor several dozen tame deer. They grazed on the grass. It was a beautiful sight.

[ ]

I N D O N E S I A

Not far from the palace was the location of a richly populated zoological museum and a botanical garden. They had been founded by a German who had worked there for many years.25 The zoo, the garden, and the entire country astounded my imagination—for example, the great variety of butterflies of different sizes with indescribable colors and patterns on their wings. When the sun set, entire armadas of moths would appear; they were even larger than the butterflies.

My son Seryozha [Sergei], whose hobby was collecting butterflies, always asked me to bring him interesting specimens from various countries that I happened to visit. I would pass on his request to my bodyguards, and they of course passed it on to the guards of the host country. In Indonesia both [Sergei, who accompanied me on the visit] and the Indonesian guards were chasing after the butterflies together. The butterflies were hard to catch, and it was even more difficult to kill them properly, so that they would dry out [and thus be preserved]. Experience and knowledge were needed for this, but Sergei was satisfied. When Sukarno found out that my son collected butterflies, he himself began running after them, trying to catch them and laughing the whole time. He was a cheerful man who knew how to joke around. When the onlookers heard that the president was chasing butterflies for Khrushchev’s son, they too began to laugh.

Sukarno arranged a trip for us to a zoo [in Jogjakarta].26 He wanted to show us the giant lizards that have survived only on one of the small islands of Indonesia—the only place in all the earth. These are dragon lizards.27 They are somewhat similar to the prehistoric dinosaurs. The inhabitants of the zoo included these dragon lizards, apes that were very similar to humans, and other rare creatures. The lizards were kept in a large open space surrounded by a deep ditch. When you stand on the road, you don’t see the ditch, and you have the impression that the lizards are running free. The corpse of a dead animal was thrown to them. These reptiles with their powerful bodies and long tails tore the corpse apart and devoured it. It was not the most pleasant sight. In general you can only get a glimpse of these lizards when they have grown hungry and come looking for food. Later back at home, I watched a film three times. It was made by a French director who had traveled to Indonesia and filmed these lizards in their native habitat, not in captivity. To entice them [into camera range], a buffalo had been slaughtered, and a camouflaged hiding place [for the camera operators] had been set up nearby.

The beauty of Indonesia made no more powerful impression on me than the poverty of its people. At the same time the upper crust of society lived in luxury and leisure.

[ ]

OPENING A W IND OW ONTO THE THIRD WORLD

In our honor President Sukarno organized dinners to which representatives of various strata in society were invited, including military men, people from civil society, and party leaders. Comrade Aidit [the leader of the CPI] was always there. The president not only took him into account but treated him with respect.28 At these dinners we were served exotic dishes with an incredibly rich assortment of fruits, desserts, and sweet-and-sour treats, but all these were completely unknown to us. I particularly remember one fruit, the durian. It was about 20 centimeters [8 inches] long [an oval-shaped fruit] with a thick skin covered with spines. The inner pulpy part of the fruit is pale yellow. When this fruit was served, our hosts began to talk among themselves and looked at me with smiles on their faces. I understood that some sort of joke was in the offing. I took a spoon, dug into the flesh of this fruit, and raised it to my lips. I was immediately overwhelmed with the repulsive smell of rotting meat. The president insisted that I taste the fruit and in the midst of all this for the first time called me “Comrade Khrushchev.” He himself ate it with pleasure, and it seemed to me impolite to refuse. I had to eat it. The taste of the durian is tolerable if you hold your nose to avoid the smell. The local men and women meantime were eating it with great appetite. For them the durian was a delicacy. Later they joked about how foreigners, unaccustomed to the durian, react to it. Here’s how they prepare the durian. First they cut off the skin, at which point the most powerful smell arises; then they cut it up, spread the pieces out on dishes or platters, and leave it out in the air. The foul smell gradually dissipates, so that the fruit that was served to us had already been “aired out” somewhat.29

Back home, before the visit, I had read a book about Indonesia.30 The book said that the Indonesians literally go hunting for the trees on which the durian fruits grow and that sometimes there are battles between the residents of different villages for possession of a durian tree. I doubted the truth of this account and later [during the visit] asked Aidit if it was so. He smiled and said: “No, that author was joking. It’s true that people hunt for durian trees in the forest, and a careful accounting is kept of all such trees. And there may be a dispute about who gets to pick the fruit first. That does occur, but there are no brawls or battles between villages over the trees.”

I wasn’t the only one who fell into the trap of the durian fruit. There were regular daylong flights between Moscow and Jakarta. I wanted to surprise my friends at home, so I asked my guards to send a varied selection of exotic Indonesian fruits to the members of the CPSU CC Presidium. Many fruits were sent, among them the durian. The plane flew by way of India and Afghanistan, and I also sent a sampling of Indonesian fruit to Nehru and the king of

[ ]

I N D O N E S I A

Afghanistan [Zahir Shah]. Later, on my way back [while stopping in India and Afghanistan], I asked: “Well, what was your impression of the Indonesian fruit?” Both Nehru and the king replied that it seemed that one of the fruits had gone bad. They described the durian exactly as it was [with its bad smell]. They had thrown it out. Among the other fruits that grow in Indonesia is the tangerine, but no apples grow there. The tangerines they have there are larger than ours, but less tasty. Soviet tangerines from Georgia are smaller, but tastier.

It’s interesting how human beings are constructed. When I was in Indonesia the whole time I felt as though I was in a steam bath. It was unpleasantly hot and humid, and my clothing stuck to my body. But the sweaty conditions naturally didn’t bother Sukarno [who was used to the heat]. We flew in a [Soviet] plane together on one occasion. When we had climbed to a high altitude, it became cooler [about 75–80° F]. I immediately felt that I was in my native element, and it became easier for me to breathe. I looked at the president and saw that he had put on all the warm clothing he had; he was curled up on the seat, covered from head to toe, and was literally shivering. I asked Sukarno what was wrong. He answered: “I’m amazed that you can tolerate such cold. Are we going to land soon?” That’s what the body’s adaptation to climate does.

As we traveled around on the roads of Indonesia, the technique of cultivating rice on hillsides caught my attention. For centuries the peasants had accumulated experience in this kind of labor. They transformed the hills into a series of terraces so that the flat areas could be used for growing crops. On these terraces the abundant rain every day kept the rice fields filled with water. At first the peasants grew only rice there, but later they put small fry in the water and began to raise fish, and they also let ducks feed in the rice fields and consequently had the ducks as a source of meat. This was a rational utilization of the land.31 However, back at that time, when I had dealings with Sukarno, Indonesia did not provide enough rice to meet its own needs and had to buy it from Burma.

In Bogor Sukarno made a suggestion to me: “Let’s go for a ride. You can see how our people live in the small towns, and you can see some of our national customs.”

I agreed. I was kept waiting. The time that the president had set for our departure had long since elapsed. Finally he came, and we started out on our trip. Only when we were under way did I understand the reason for his lateness. As it turned out, Sukarno wanted crowds of people to be out there to meet us along the whole length of the way in the various settlements. The departure was delayed while his people were gathering the crowds. I felt very

[ ]

OPENING A W IND OW ONTO THE THIRD WORLD

uncomfortable about this. It grated on me, but I too am a slave to established tradition. Among us in the USSR this type of operation has been developed into a science since long ago. The best thing would be if the only people who came out to greet you were those who wanted to. In Indonesia it was more difficult to gather people together. They didn’t have the degree of organization and discipline that we have developed in our country. He wanted, so to speak, to put his best foot forward, to demonstrate that everyone, both young and old, would come out into the streets. Was the main thing he had in mind to show how they would greet the representative of the land of the Soviets, Khrushchev? I think that he wanted to demonstrate for me how they came out to greet the president of Indonesia, Sukarno.

In spite of everything, the ranks were rather thin when we passed through. In some places teachers had brought schoolchildren out. It was only in the villages, rather than on the roads between them, that people gathered in larger numbers. I didn’t want to insult the president, but I had the urge to express my sympathies to him for the absence of welcoming crowds in the desired numbers.

During this trip we didn’t get out of the car, and I saw the villages of Indonesia only from the car window. Their dwelling places are like barns or sheds made of bamboo. The floors were also of bamboo, and there were some sort of rags or trappings hanging. The clothing people wore was sloppily stitched together and worn thin. The entire upper body was left uncovered. They wore clothes only below the waist. Their chests were bare. It was a very unpleasant and unattractive sight. Women would be standing there nursing their children in their arms. You would see a child sucking on the breast of a gaunt middle-aged woman. This was not the kind of woman mentioned in some lines that come to my memory for some reason: “Ellen had a magnificent, well-filled bosom, and it made quite an impression on the young men.”32 The bosoms you saw in Indonesia aroused your pity. It was a very sad picture.

In general the villages made a very sorry impression on me. It was evident that the people lived in great poverty. The people were poorly dressed, and their dwellings were primitive. The only thing that saved them was the warm weather, because the main thing they needed was a roof over their heads against the rain and sun.

We came to a small town and stopped at a building with an enormous terrace. Rows of chairs had been set up, and people were told who should sit where. A separate spot was designated for the president and myself to sit down. They explained to me that we were going to see a thing called a procession. It is a ceremony, or custom, that apparently exists only in Indonesia. It serves as a representation of the course of a person’s life from birth to death. When I was

[ ]

I N D O N E S I A

a child I had seen cheap popular prints depicting the same idea. They were printed in Moscow by the book publisher Sytin, the same one who is well known for having devoted his whole life to books.33 His printing operations also produced these cheap popular prints. The peasants and workers would buy them because they wanted something to decorate their homes. When I was a young man I too was one of those who purchased these “works of art.” Many of the homes in our mineworkers’ settlement had these pictures hanging on the walls, showing people at different stages of their life from birth to death.

This same idea was presented in the procession in Indonesia. First came a group of people with infants in their arms, then people representing marriage, then people in old age. In short, all the stages of life were represented. The participants in the procession went by in groups, each one giving an artistic representation of their particular stage of life. These people were dressed well in colorful clothing. I don’t know if they were wearing theatrical costumes or were simply well-to-do people. As we sat there we took delight in the colorful spectacle. The procession was accompanied by musicians. As some pretty young women were going by, Sukarno smiled in a conspiratorial way and asked: “Which of them do you like the best?”

I said:“Oh, I like them all. They’re beautiful young women and nicely dressed.” But he insisted: “No, what about that one? Maybe you like that one?” And

he pointed at one of them.

I tried to put an end to discussion on this topic, saying: “Well, if you like that one, then so do I, but I like the others no less.” And I said nothing further.

The president went on to discuss the physical attractions of these young women, which apparently gave him great pleasure.

We spent two days in Bogor and then went back to Jakarta. Official and unofficial talks and receptions took place there.

The itinerary provided for a trip to Bandung,34 whose name is associated with the famous declaration of 1955. Mao Zedong had told me that the Chinese had signed that declaration. Specifically it was signed by Zhou Enlai. It proved to be an excellent document [for peaceful coexistence].

From Bandung we went to the island of Bali,35 a place where the government usually went for vacation.

Before we landed, Sukarno warned me: “You are an atheist. But I ask you to display patience. In accordance with local traditions you are going to be welcomed by local religious officials. The people who live here are of two different faiths,36 and therefore there will be two welcoming ceremonies at the same time. They will say prayers and conduct certain rituals, and they will welcome us by bowing down and making various signs with their hands. If

[ ]

OPENING A W IND OW ONTO THE THIRD WORLD

you would agree to take part in this ceremony, it will make a good impression on the people. That will also be useful for me.”

I replied that it would be interesting for me to have a look at this type of ceremony.

We landed, then traveled in cars [from the airport]. Crowds came out to meet us. The indicated ceremonial procedures began. Some sort of prayer was said. At first one religious official would mumble something in a monotone, and then another did the same. In the forests in the springtime in our country the game birds, the grouse, chatter and mutter and carry on the same way during mating season. These priests or whatever they were took turns talking, and I was barely able to keep my patience. The asphalt on the square where we were standing was so hot that I felt as though I was on a frying pan. I had to keep shifting from foot to foot. The soles of my shoes were burning. Still they kept muttering away. I looked at Sukarno. He said nothing. Maybe he was used to such things? Or maybe he had put extra-thick soles on his shoes in advance? Unable to stand it any longer, I asked the translator in an undertone: “Can’t we wrap this up?” He translated the question to Sukarno, also in a very soft voice so that no one would hear. Sukarno made a sign and gradually the mumbling came to an end. The priests gave us a blessing or something like that and we politely took our leave of them.

Sukarno’s residence in Bali was in the hills, where the cooler climate really was more suitable for a vacation. As soon as we got settled we went for a walk. Our hosts showed us the surrounding area, which was very beautiful. There was a park, and down the hill from it was a series of ponds. You could only reach them on foot; you couldn’t drive there. Paths circled the ponds, and there was one pond where, if you wished, you could go swimming. Some people were swimming in it already. Our dinner was not a large communal event; each of us ate separately in his or her own room. On the next day artisans put on a display in the courtyard outside our cabins. These craftsmen worked in wood, metal, and ivory. They were exceptional masters and showed us remarkable pieces they had produced, with finely inlaid surfaces. The sculptures were quite unusual, not the kind we were accustomed to see. The proportions were off, and the figures seemed strangely elongated. These master woodworkers used mahogany, which Indonesia is very rich in. The figures they had made were finely carved and exquisitely finished. Quite a few customers gathered, and our people too made some purchases.

On the next day we strolled around the ponds again. A naked young woman with a child was swimming in one of the pools. The president deliberately led us precisely toward that pool. I said to him: “But there’s a naked woman

[ ]

I N D O N E S I A

there.” He answered that in Bali that didn’t mean anything. We walked over to her, and he began to talk to her. With her child in her arms she walked right up to him. The rest of us kept going, but he stayed behind. The woman handed the child to the president, and he held it in his arms, joking with the little boy while she went back to her swimming. I took the risk of commenting to him that in our country such behavior would have been considered indecent, but Sukarno said: “Didn’t you see how she got out of the water without any embarrassment and handed me her child and then went back in the water?”

President Sukarno, who loved festive company, also adored dancing, and he liked everyone present to dance with him. He had behaved that way in Bogor and continued to do the same in Bali. I am absolutely not a dancing person. Even when I was a young man I didn’t go dancing for entertainment. I simply didn’t know how. As a young man, generally speaking, I was very shy, although I liked to watch other people dance. In principle I was not opposed to participating in Sukarno’s innocent diversions, but aside from a group dance the miners used to do in the Donbas, I didn’t know any dances. They would stand in a circle, hold each others’ hands, and stamp on the ground like Bulgarians do with their kolo.37 Everyone knew how to do that. The same kind of monotonous dances are what Sukarno did, but he kept going, usually after supper, and would continue practically to the point of exhaustion. At first a concert was arranged with the native music of Indonesia being played, followed by some solo performances, and then everyone danced. That’s how our first night on Bali went by, and it was very late before the party broke up.

On the second night after supper, the president organized the same kind of thing. When the dancing began I tried to excuse myself, telling him I was very tired. Sukarno was amazed: “What? That’s impossible. The girls will be insulted. Do me a favor and stay.” That’s how much he adored both dancing and women. Sometimes he simply couldn’t control himself. Although some of our people stayed, I left, and at that point [once I was gone] Gromyko became our dancer number one.38 The next morning I was told that the dancing had continued until such-and-such an hour. At that hour I had already slept my fill and had awakened. Sukarno, although supposedly he was being attentive to his guests, actually took more delight in this than anyone. He had a great liking for such activities. He took turns dancing with all the young women, behaved politely, and apparently the women were flattered that the president was paying attention to them. All the while he kept joking and making witty conversation.

Two physicians accompanied our delegation. One of them [Valentina Ivanovna Leonova] was an ear, nose, and throat specialist.39 We assumed that,

[ ]

OPENING A W IND OW ONTO THE THIRD WORLD

in such heat, respiratory illnesses could occur. We had already had an unfortunate experience [of such illness] during our trip to India [in 1955]. The other physician was [Aleksandr Mikhailovich] Markov, head of the Fourth Main Administration of the USSR Ministry of Health,40 a good comrade and an excellent doctor. When I suggested he travel with us, he had proposed that, just in case, we bring another doctor as well. In Bali we divided our delegation up into two groups. Half of them lived with us, and the other group was housed down by the seashore [in the town of Denpasar]. The conditions there were also good, but it was not so cool. One morning at breakfast I noticed that Sukarno had caught a cold. I said: “Mr. President, a woman doctor has come with us. She is an ear, nose, and throat specialist, and very pretty. She’s part of the group down at the seashore. She’s an excellent specialist and could easily fix you up.” (I had decided to tell him something useful and at the same time make a joke of it, knowing his weakness.) At lunchtime I looked around and saw that our woman doctor had already been relocated to the upper level, and Markov had been sent down to the seashore. There were not enough rooms to house everyone in the same place. After supper the “cultural events,” as we called them, were put on again. The woman doctor was also invited. She really was pretty and knew how to dance well. Of course she immediately attracted the president’s attention, and he kept dancing away with her. The next morning I asked her: “How did you like the president?” She gave me a sly smile and replied that he was quite the cheerful fellow.

There was another island we visited. The scion of an ancient dynasty headed the local administration there. He had continued to hold a commanding position [after Indonesia gained its independence]. He held the rank of general and the official post of governor. The Indonesian Communists informed me that this man did not enjoy their political confidence. However, he displayed the same hospitality as people had at other places. Sukarno’s characterization of him was similar to that of the Communists, but he added that the general was an honest man and he had confidence in him.

Our itinerary included a visit to a college [Gadjah Mada University in Jogjakarta]. At a public rally at the college, the young people gave me a very warm reception. I concluded my speech with the announcement that the Soviet government had made the decision to organize a special university in Moscow for the nations newly freed from colonial dependence. That university still exists now and is named after Patrice Lumumba,41 who became a symbol of resolute struggle against colonialism.

In discussions [in the Soviet leadership prior to the visit] about establishing such an institution of higher education, we based ourselves on the fact that

[ ]

I N D O N E S I A

the United States, Britain, and France were providing training for officials who would serve in their former colonies. They organized educational institutions to which they admitted young people according to certain well-defined principles. Sometimes they gave preference to the children of wealthy families, and sometimes they made a special selection of talented students and gave them government scholarships. In this way they trained a vast number of cadres, on whom they could later rely in conducting their colonialist policies. For our part, we thought that cadres of specialists should also be trained to carry out an anticolonialist policy, and at the same time we could introduce them to Soviet culture, the Communist worldview, and our understanding of social issues. Having completed their education, these students would be well trained not only in their specialties but in the social sciences as well. When I finished my speech at the college, I read the decree of the Soviet government authorizing the establishment of such a university in Moscow. This was a moment of triumph. Both the professors and the young people applauded warmly and unanimously for a long time, showing their enthusiasm for this decision. This institution is still flourishing in our country today [in 1970] and is called the University of the Friendship of the Peoples.42

As the allotted time for our visit was drawing to an end, we prepared for our departure. At a farewell rally Sukarno took the floor. He knew how to speak well and had a reputation as a skillful orator. His speeches came off brilliantly. I gave the [farewell] speech on behalf of our delegation.

Nowadays when I meet people I sometimes hear criticism that we wasted our money to no good purpose on these people and this [Patrice Lumumba] university. As I explained back then and continue to assert today, the decision was correct and necessary, and the expenses were in keeping with the laws of social and historical development.

I consider such spending, aimed at spreading the teachings of MarxismLeninism, to be justified. We increase the influence of our country on the choices that will be made in other countries concerning the direction of development those other societies will take, especially those countries that have recently freed themselves from colonial dependence. Our expenditures are repaid not in the form of payment for university-level instruction but with something much greater—trust in our party and country. I am convinced that all countries will take the same road we did and will base themselves on the teachings of Marxism-Leninism. But in order to train cadres, money must be spent.

The more people there are who are well-trained and educated and have acquired knowledge of Marxist-Leninist doctrine, the better. Some of them will become public figures in their own countries. We already have examples

[ ]

OPENING A W IND OW ONTO THE THIRD WORLD

of this. We meet people who have graduated from our institutes or universities and who now hold prominent positions in their own countries.

I am reminded of a curious incident that occurred at an official dinner in Jakarta. Aidit had a request for me: “It would be good if you would toast the health of the general who commands the air force. That would increase his influence.” The general was either a Communist or someone close to them.43 I had my doubts. Perhaps this should not be done. But then I gave in to Aidit’s insistence. When toasts were being made I asked for the floor. This was nothing unusual; nevertheless it did attract a heightened level of attention. I proposed the toast to this general—I don’t remember his name now—and everyone applauded and drank to his health. In response, Sukarno immediately proposed a toast to General Nasution.44 I felt at that point that the president was somehow reacting in a guarded way to my toast. That convinced me that I had been right in my original doubts about making the toast, but what can you do? I had taken the action at the request of Aidit. In that situation I noticed more distinctly than ever that Sukarno was actively courting Nasution, making up to him and seeking to win his favor. Alarm and concern were evident on the president’s face. Sukarno wanted to partly neutralize and offset my toast with his own toast emphasizing the importance of Nasution.

Relations between the USSR and Indonesia were of the very best at that time: we were developing economic cooperation, aiding them with arms and equipment, sending our command staff cadres to their country; also, commanders of the Indonesian army came to our country for training. Nevertheless Nasution caused us to have political doubts about him personally (and not only him). It worried us that this friend of the West was such an influential figure in the Indonesian armed forces. In conversations with me, Sukarno argued that Nasution was not only an honest man but also a religious man, that it was possible to influence him through his religious beliefs, and that gradually he could be won over to the cause of democracy.

I frequently had conversations with Nasution. Each of us conducted himself appropriately, in keeping with rank and position, and mutual respect was observed. Not even a hint of any demonstrable behavior was noticeable on his part. He displayed no hostility toward anything in the USSR. He knew how to conceal his feelings, giving us no grounds to think he was hostile toward us. But he unquestionably was hostile. He also had contacts with our military people. They were on good terms with Nasution, although our intelligence people informed us that Nasution had links with American intelligence. Many Communists and even more sympathizers were working in the command staff of the Indonesian armed forces. In their midst Nasution seemed to be losing

[ ]

I N D O N E S I A

influence despite all his importance. In general we assumed that events were developing in the proper direction in Indonesia. If Indonesia were to take the road of socialist construction, that would be an enormous gain for all of us. Indonesia itself would be transformed into a powerful support for the struggle against world imperialism.

The imperialist camp understood this no worse than we did, and it did everything it could to promote prejudice against the Communist Party of Indonesia and President Sukarno, who continued to influence the minds of his people. His authority in the country remained very high. Everything there was going along fine until Maoist China began to pursue its own special line. When our disagreements became public our class enemies began to take advantage of them. We regretted this, but there was nothing we could do. At the International Conference of Communist and Workers’ parties in Moscow in 1960, Aidit spoke in the elastic and evasive manner that was typical of him. He said nothing against the positions of the CPSU, but he also failed to speak out against Beijing’s positions. He sacrificed principles to “elasticity.” However, we could not expect anything else from the CPI because there was a large stratum of Chinese in that party. Through them the Chinese Communist Party exerted quite a bit of influence. It’s true that the Indonesians sometimes protested in their own special way against the commercial dominance of Chinese merchants, smashing and ransacking their stores in anti-Chinese riots. We regretted actions of that kind, although we knew that the Chinese merchants in Indonesia listened closely to the voice of Beijing, even though they themselves were not proletarians. Beijing had influence in the Chinese population not only in Indonesia but also in Singapore, Malaysia, and other Asian countries.

As I have said, there were people of Chinese ethnic origin in the CPI. Before the disagreements developed between the USSR and China, no problem of ethnic relations existed in the CPI, but at that point China seems to have begun probing and testing the moods and sentiments there. It turned out that some members of the Political Bureau of the Central Committee of the CPI took a pro-Beijing position. It’s true that they didn’t speak out openly against the USSR or the CPSU, but they didn’t support our policies. Now Aidit also was taking an unclear position, obviously leaning toward the Chinese.45 This surprised me, and I think that, on his side, this position was somehow forced upon him. I had a conversation with him [on July 22, 1963] during the very last period of my official activity. In addition to him, three other representatives of the CPI were present, and two leaders of the Soviet party, Ponomaryov and Andropov, were there with me.46 Aidit remained silent while I argued for

[ ]

OPENING A W IND OW ONTO THE THIRD WORLD

the line of the CPSU, comparing it with the Chinese line and demonstrating that the Chinese line was not supportable. Aidit kept quiet the whole time, and I sensed that he felt he had no alternative. Soon he returned to his homeland by way of China. Later I found out that in Beijing he was unable to hold out any longer, and in a meeting with Mao, the latter dragged him over to their side. The Chinese gave him a good working over. Later in their newspapers they openly claimed that he was taking a pro-Beijing position. After the leadership of the CPI was smashed [in the military coup] in 1965, Aidit went underground. Later he was arrested, tried, and shot. The man must be given the credit he deserves. He went astray, but he did so sincerely. At his trial he conducted himself in an intelligent manner, and he died honorably. When the Communist Party of Indonesia organized an action with the aim of seizing power [thus triggering the military coup]47 an assertion was slipped into the Soviet press that the CPI had got itself into this terrible situation because it had taken orders from Mao Zedong. For me the action taken by the CPI was absolutely unexpected. I never thought that such an attempt would take place the way it did, without any consideration for the specific situation then existing in Indonesia. [As a result] tens of thousands of Communists perished, along with progressively minded people in general, especially those working in the trade unions and in other organizations under the leadership of the CPI. The largest Communist Party in the capitalist part of the world suffered a terrible defeat. That is the end result if giving in to adventuristic slogans.

[ ]

I N D O N E S I A

[ ]

OPENING A W IND OW ONTO THE THIRD WORLD

[ ]