Customer Reviews

In the Time of Madness: Indonesia on the Edge of Chaos

5 star:		(9)
4 star:		(2)
3 star:		(0)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(1)

 

 

This is a terrific book. The author was in Indonesia at the end of the 1990's, in what was obviously a very tumultuous time for that country. The book is divided into three sections, each of which deals with a different event. The first section deals with two trips that Parry made to the island of Borneo, which witnessed several episodes of ethnic conflict during the 1990s. The author was specifically drawn to the island because of reports that members of a particular ethnic group were not only being killed, but that they were being slaughtered in brutal, ritualistic fashion. Parry not only manages to find people who confirm these stories, but on his second trip to the island he actually sees more direct evidence of these atrocities. The second section of the book deals with the student protests that led to the downfall of Suharto. This was probably my favorite part of the book, because Parry provides such an outstanding analysis of the ideological underpinnings of Suharto's regime. I only wish that he would have discussed in greater detail the financial crash as well as the ensuing involvement of the IMF, as well as the anti-Chinese riots that took place throughout the country. The final section of the book details the author's stay in East Timor, including his meeting with an elusive pro-independence guerilla fighter and his harrowing stay in the UN compound after the independence referendum, when the pro-Indonesian militias were committing reprisal attacks with the blessing of the Indonesian military. Throughout the book Parry manages to infuse the narrative with an impressive sense of drama, such that it often reads like a novel. Parry realizes that he witnessed history in the making, and he does a good job of conveying to his readers the historical import of the events that he relates.

As an Indonesian that lived through the tumultous period covered in the book, I found Richard Parry's work to be very authoritative. He digs deep, more than just facts and statistics. Though not a picture that I want my homeland to be remembered by, I found this to be a must read.

Excellent book, well-written and gripping for the most part. During the climax, I found myself unable to put it down -- something that doesn't usually happen with non-fiction. Spare prose and light touches of very British humor at certain points added to the reading "pleasure," if that's the right word for a work centering on horrific events.

I deduct a star for a bit of exaggeration over the climax. From the way it was built up, I thought Lloyd Parry had been involved in something truly horrific. Ultimately, I found his reaction very male and a bit irritating, rather overdone.

Overall, though, an excellent book. I hope he plans on writing more.

This book is both scary and important. However, the scary part is unimportant and the important part is unique in how innocent and un-scary it appears. Yet, at least to this reader, this brilliant author has inadvertently (and it seems), unnecessarily inverted the priorities of his topics.

While his preoccupation with carefully documenting (he spent an inordinate 100 pages -- the entire first half of the book doing so), perhaps the last instances of active cannibalism in the 20th Century is laudable, arguably and ultimately it is also unimportant. Because at the end of the day the cannibalism he documents proved to be little more than a symbolic gesture of victorious defiance by one tribe over another. That is to say it was the ultimate denouement; the ultimate flip of the bird by one tribe towards another. All tribes do this, whether primitive or modern.

Yet, somehow, the author has turned his (or our) revulsion to this single act of barbarity among so many, into a transparent attempt to "distance" modern man from the savagery of the warring and primitive tribes of Indonesia. And here, although it goes unstated in the text, it is clear that the author intended for the reader to misplace most of his emphasis on the word primitive. However, after reading the second half of the book, it is equally clear that the real savagery is not in cannibalism per se, but in a new kind of savagery, a kind that is much more subtle and has already infected the modern world. It is the same savagery that Hanna Arendt's has elsewhere coined the banality of evil.

The real savagery in the Indonesian political example of the late sixties revolution, which resulted in a change of power from Sukarno to Suharto is what this new kind of political savagery -- and the ease with which even on the flimsiest of pretexts, it can seamlessly slide into normalized and justifiable barbarity -- means and portents for the future of modern societies and for modern politics more generally.

What one sees in Suharto's rise to power and the way he twisted a previously (admittedly weak) democratic way of life into a paternalistic but brutal totalitarian state (where millions of communists were killed), is the future paradigm for the takeover of modern democratic societies:

The new formula of barbarity is thus that when the sh-t hits the fan, the correct formula for ending threats to democratic rule is to take over the symbols and machinery of the state all in the name of its sacred principles and Constitution, and then end all conflict by ending all dissent, that is all thought, and fashioning in its place, a pseudo-democracy that goes through the motions of a "real" democracy. That is to say, fashion one that outlaws all conflict because all conflict (and thus all thought) has the potential of undermining the state and thus by definition is potentially subversive and thus barbaric. In this way, the ultimate totalitarian state comes into being under the people's guidance, consent, and consensus, and of course, as always, for their own self-protection.

It is shades of our descent into the post-911 madness of: the Patriot act, Abu Ghraib, renditions, tapped telephone lines, shaky intelligence, and wars of convenience, etc., but writ large. To me, this broader scenario, the main outlines of which our leaders have already adopted, is infinitely scarier than cannibalism.


But what an incredibly sophisticated read. Fifty stars.

Having lived in Indonesia throughout the crisis period covered by the author, this book really hit the spot, bringing back so many memories. The book works at two levels. Firstly the tragic story of Indonesia when it was right on the precipice and could so easily have fallen into total anarchy, before slowly clawing its way back to at least a semblance of democracy (sadly still a long way to go, in the face of overwhelming entrenched corruption). Secondly, the story of the author and his growth as in individual over the years of crisis. It was pleasing to follow him moving beyond his disturbing initial enjoyment of the crisis as a 'Boys Own' adventure, witnessing the horrors of headhunting and cannibalism in the ethnic turmoil of Kalimantan and the after effects of rioting and rebellion in Jakarta, to finally realising that a crime against humanity was taking place and people's lives were being destroyed in every sense in the chaos and bloodshed of East Timor. It is not possible to put the book down without feeling disgust with the disgraceful behaviour and appalling brutality of the corrupt and cowardly TNI (the Indonesian army) in East Timor. As an Australian, it also rekindled memories of our national shame, with our complicity in initially accepting Indonesia's invasion of East Timor, fortunately redeemed as the author relates with the Australian army and UN-backed intervention to rescue the new nation's citizens from massacre by the Indonesian army and militias. Not perfect, but a fascinating read at both levels.

I read this book on a recent trip to Indonesia because it was one of the few of its type available on Kindle. It gave me an engrossing window into some important moments in modern Indonesia. It gives a narrow, rather than broad or complete, account of conflicts on Kalimantan (Borneo), the fall of Suharto, key events on Java, and the situation in East Timor. Although I did not feel I was getting the complete picture, the picture I did get was vivid and engrossing. As a reader you feel like you're there. I thought the author dwelled a little too much on accounts of beheaded bodies, cannibalism, etc., especially in the early parts of the book. I also found it mildly annoying (but bearable) when the author drifted into introspection. But this book was full of fascinating information on situations that aren't well covered in many other sources. I'd recommend the book to anyone interested in its subject matter.

Compelling reading, albeit it quite unpleasant at times. If you're squeamish, be warned.

Parry paints vivid vignettes from various bloody moments in Indonesia's recent history, wearing his heart on his sleeve. This is not a sober, detached analysis of events - it is a first hand account of what these moments looked like on the ground.

Unique and invaluable, and well-written.

I consider this book as very interesting and easy to read. The author describe the situation in a way that you can feel the situation in a real way. it is a very interesting historic document of the Suharto dictator fall; very interesting for all the people who want to know what happened in this crucial days in the history of Indonesia.

The author was there, and he bears witness. Throughout the time I spent reading this book, I was reminded again and again of all the journalists who go into the war zones around the world and tell us what happened there. The risks they take are terrible. But like this author, those who take the greatest risks typically don't brag about it.

This is a book about a particular slice of Indonesia's history. It begins with blood and violence in 1997 in Kalimantan, and it ends with more blood and violence in early 2000 in East Timor. Less than three years, and how many lives ended so horribly? Indonesia is a complex society, a nation with a huge and diverse population spread among thousands of islands, and Lloyd Parry doesn't try to tell its whole story. He weaves in some background and some history where possible, but mostly, he tells us what he saw on the ground.

I really appreciated his accounts of interviews with people in villages, people who are not "the official voice." I marveled again and again at the image of him riding around in the countryside, in a truck or on the back of a motorbike, unarmed, unprotected. But how else would he have been able to talk to people under the conditions that existed then? To get these stories, the journalist must expose himself. It's brave and it's crazy. I really admire people who do this. I'm grateful that they tell us stories like this one -- as horrible as they are, these things must be told.

A must read for anyone interested in Indonesia. Superb historical accounts, on the ground descriptions and skillful storytelling. A classic on my bookshelf! Students love it.