Nationalism and The Tradition of Pitulasan

The teenagers and adolescences had been doing the same thing year after year. They started to get bored of it and fed up by the tag “unstable” the authority had put on them. Yet, in the period of life where they were most prone to negative social construction, their hopes for this struggling country never faded away—a country that had always been led astray, with holes on its body that were made by its own children.

That night they gathered in the village administrative center. It had been planned before, that on the night they would paint the fence walls in the village. They were liming the walls. It was a minor deed but very important. The walls would look clean again despite definitely not glossy.

They all shared the same objective: celebrating Indonesian Independence Day. The day comes on 17 August and is often called pitulasan. These young people wanted to express their nationalism.

Early in August, they had done stringing up the small-sized red and white colors. On long threads, they set the strings across the village passages. They cut some bamboo trunks as well, tied the flags on them, and put them on the corners of the village. Pitulasan was always cheerful in the village.

Like a festival, a month before 17 August, the people held various activities and competitions. They had spent two days for volleyball competition confronting neighborhood associations. Most of them were not adept at volleyball and just teamed up instantly. As a result, the games looked like boxing. Some women players often mistook the ball with their partners’ heads.

From morning to midday, children took parts in different competitions, one of them was pulling out coins from papayas which had been blackened with charcoal and smeared with cooking oil. After that, they got their face black and itchy.  But they were happy despite everything.

Next, they joined the water plastic bag clubbing contest. Some kids got hurt, even bleeding for they were hitting the bag blindfold.

Another contest was the sack race, which involved mothers. They leaped forward as fast as they could like kangaroos. Mrs. Mirah, one of the poor residents in the village, was very eager to finish first that she fell and got her foot twisted. “I wanted to get the books for my kid,” she said referring to the grant for the winner. Funny, entertaining, yet tragic.

Later on the day, people crowded around a square of mud space watching the duck-catching contest.  Five ducks were let out, the participants started to get busy. He was not very old yet, but people called him Mbah (Grandpa) Warno. He laughed cheerfully, showing two of his teeth that were left. His hands held ducks, two of them.

The 17 August’s Eve, they gathered in the village administration center. They were having a night vigil, a feast. One of the village elderly told a story of the colonial time when they were fighting against the Dutch and Japanese. After that they prayed, had their meals, and stayed up all night while mingling with others and playing some dominoes or cards.

When the morning came, children and civil servants got ready to participate in the flag ceremony, honoring the red and white. They asserted unity in diversity, and enjoyed diversity in unity. A cliché we often forget.

That was a story of how pitulasan celebration went in an Indonesian village last year, probably also in many other villages. The tradition of pitulasan is indeed nothing more than an annual ritual. But it is people’s honest expression. Can we take it as a form of their nationalism after all? It depends on how we interpret it. We know there were some cases in which a village chief was very enthusiastic in holding a feast for pitulasan on a discrete objective: sending the message for people to vote for him again in the next election for village chief or a certain position in a political party.

Quite many people prefer staying silent, not complaining at all about the condition of their country that gets worse, while their representatives are busy making money for themselves.

Pitulasan seems trivial indeed. But looking at how people end up after all these 65 years, stringing up the red and white flags looks like lamenting over life. Celebrating independence is celebrating the victory of only some sub-caucuses. People do not go sentimental and sulking though. They keep on performing the rituals as celebrating independence day is an obligation, despite nobody force them, despite no reward. Despite the silence.

Of nationalism and love for this country, we should not dare to ask the people. They have shown it obviously, year after year, by celebrating pitulasan, without any compensation. But what they get is the bad side of development, increasing prices of the nine basic necessities, holes in their village road, LPG tube explosion, train crash and so on.

Jangan bicara soal nasionalisme, sebab nasionalisme memang bukan untuk diperdebatkan. (Never talk about nationalism; nationalism is not a debating matter).

The lyrics were written by Iwan Fals, the legendary Indonesian folk singer. Young people in the cities and countryside must know it well. For them, nationalism is something they have to practice, a tradition. They materialize it in their behaviors, at a very low level, like holding pitulasan, up to international level, like winning international contests in the name of Indonesia.

In the lyrics, Iwan seems to really understand that nationalism should be more like action than a discussion. As interesting as a dialogue about nationalism can get, it is nothing more than just a pile of papers and books left out in the corner, covered with dust and spider web.

The age of 65 in current standard of human lifespan is considered old or dusk. No need to compare our country to the United States which took 200 years to be what they are right now. With people’s education level today, Indonesia’s advancement and prosperity requires not more than strong willingness of the authorities: willingness to restrain their and their group’s interests, to kill “the sense of egoism” and to let everyone enjoy independence.

We need their willingness to fast.

Yusuf Efendi, Jogjatrip.com journalist
Translation by Reza Daffi

Leave your comment !

More Opinion