not up to me to write further. If they had the time to receive me, then the invitation should come from the Nyonya Besar herself.37 I never did receive such an invitation; neither did I on any other occasion present myself to the Tuan Besar’s first bookkeeper and his wife, whom I considered to be no more worthy of respect than I myself.
[54] As to the Tuan Kebun (head administrator) and his wife, I was unable to reach any conclusion about them.38 I was invited everywhere by Dr. Janssen the Tuan Maskapai, the great god himself, whom they worshipped, so I never knew whether or not they agreed. But as usual, in the get-together at the house of the Tuan Kebun and his wife, Dr. Janssen immediately turned the conversation towards matters requiring general knowledge probably outside the ken, let alone the understanding, of the hosts. Dr. Janssen had received his doctorate from a German university on the basis of a dissertation on the customs and traditions of the Batak, one of many issues that interested him. Now came the turn of the Tuan Besar (administrator). He was a real German who still could not speak Dutch. His wife, who was much younger than he, came from the German upper class and had had a superior education.39 At first glance I could see that Nyonya and Tuan Besar Herr Graf were far apart in both age and culture. It was quite common after the First World War, especially among the aristocracy, for young, educated German women who had lost their fathers in the war to marry older, wealthy war-profiteers for their money. A moment’s thought convinced me that such young women would usually indeed be safe in the hands of rich old men. But there was no real security in Deli society, and certainly none among the Tuan of the plantation, for this young German woman at a time when her society was in Gaerung (ferment). Herr Graf was strongly opposed to progress for the inlanders. From other sources I heard some of the insults he directed at me. But he was loyal to Dr. Janssen, who was also of German extraction. Though my skin color was the same as that of the plantation coolies, Dr. Janssen had set the example of how I should be treated, and since the good doctor was still present in Deli, Herr Graf followed the wise policy of sugar-coating his bitterness. Fortunately the interest of Frau Graf, who had heard of names like Karl Liebknecht and Rosa Luxemburg, could not be shackled by discussions of tobacco, latex, profits, shares, leave, and pensions. On parting late at night she said, “Kommen Sie uns bald wieder besuchen” (come and visit us again soon) with an emphasis on the word “bald” (soon).
My visit with Ir. V. L.40 went in a similar fashion.41 A graduate from a German university, and a conservative in politics, he was not too sympathetic. His philosophy was concerned with wages, profits, and pensions. But Nyonya was a sports enthusiast, interested in everything from tennis to horseback-riding, and she was, no less important, a lover of literature. Her conversation flowed smoothly from strikes in the Netherlands to the Russian Revolution, from the works of Gorter and Henriette Roland Holst to Dostoevsky, Gorky, and Lenin.42 When we parted she lent me some books. Tuan looked astonished and disapproving, but Nyonya followed up by saying, “I shall arrange to have the books picked up.”
[55] In another visit, to the home of the deputy Tuan Kebun, I met guests from the other branches of the company. They were the plantation’s Tuan Besar and had the typical political outlook. The deputy was quiet, as was indeed his wont. But his wife was broadminded and hospitable. The conversation turned to the Indonesian nationalist movement. One of the Tuan Besar showed his colors by saying: “Sarekat Islam would be better if there were no hajis among its members.”43 This was the same as saying, ‘The National Party would be better if it had no nationalists in it,” or “The Bolshevik Party is fine, but what a pity it has Bolshevik members.” I was familiar enough with this reactionary position from the newspaper Deli Courant.44 This particular Tuan Besar was a moderate reactionary and was restraining his words in front of the hostess. From other mouths and in other places, one would not hear such “polite” criticism. Here on my own turf, I had no more trouble dealing the knocked-out blow to this avid reader of the Deli Courant than I had had with the Dutch students and future B. B. ambtenaren45 at the Deventer congress.46
My acquaintances with my neighbors, the doctors Walch, was based on equality in all respects. As I mentioned earlier, this couple was interested in studying and experimenting on the malarial anopheles mosquito. Nyonya was fluent in Indonesian and paid considerable attention to the nationalist movement in Medan. She even wanted to meet the prominent Indonesians there. She reminded me that there was no need for me to send a letter first if I had the time to drop in.
While all these relationships were conducted on a formal basis according to adat, in the clubs and on the tennis courts and playing fields, there were many other acquaintances.47 And apart from these there were two or three Dutch people in Medan who had become my friends. They were the left social-democrats and the president of the Assistentenbond.48
[56] In general an anti-inlander spirit was concealed but still strong among the Tuan of the plantation. However, I had a few honest, genuine friends. An example is my relationship with the three “hares”: Hazevoet, Hazewinkel, and Hazejager.49 All three were employees of Senembah Mij. and were close to me. Hazevoet, a friendly Dutch youth who often dropped by my house, was a socialist and worked in the pharmacy.50 Hazewinkel had come out on the same ship as I. He had lived for a long time among the Kaffir and other African peoples, and he no longer differentiated between people on the basis of skin color but of character. In the Netherlands he had been promised that he would be put in charge of a palm-products factory that Senembah Mij. was to set up. This was because he had had considerable experience in this field in Africa, working as a skilled labourer. But he was extremely disappointed and upset by both the rank and salary awarded him. Before he broke off all connection with Senembah Mij. and went to Java, he asked me to consider him as a faithful friend. Hazejager was a real German, a patriot still saddened by the continued occupation of the western part of Germany. He was married to an Indonesian Batak, not a Muslim or a Christian but a genuine Batak from the hills. He did not marry her as a concubine, as was customary on the plantation, but according to Batak tradition, which was not easy. Batak women are well known to be very difficult to win over, and for three years he struggled to win her heart and trust. He had to go through the traditional marriage ceremony and eat authentic Batak food. Their one child he loved as dearly as he did his wife. Hazejager did not have a developed philosophy concerning politics of nationality and peace. “First restore the original German boundaries, then there will be peace with the Germans.” I did not need to explain to him my ideas about the boundaries of the Indonesian nation and state. Time and again, when I was in conflict with the reactionaries in Senembah Mij., Hazejager revealed the plots that the Tuan Besar of the plantation had formed against me.
The conflict between me and the plantation’s Tuan Besar centered on four issues: (1) skin color, (2) the education of the coolie children, (3) articles in the Deli newspapers, and (4) my relationship with the plantation coolies. These four issues actually had their origin in the conflict between the colonial, capitalist Dutch and the colonized coolie Indonesians.
[57] Skin color! This feeling of being “different from the inlanders,” as reflected in the difference in skin color would not vanish as long as the white Dutch people monopolized the position of capitalist colonizers over the brown colonized inlanders. Their arrogance was coated with “politeness,” but if it had been left entirely to Dutch “politeness” we would still feel humiliated. We always had to be ready to bare our teeth and, if necessary, to attack. In the Netherlands my experiences with the insolent, both in the streets and on the sports field, led me to understand that one should never, even once, give in. If you give in to the Dutch, then they become even more insolent and do just as they please. When in the lanes and main roads they yelled out “dirty nigger” or “water Chinees”51 we went up to them and commanded “just try saying that again.” While we were prepared for anything, in 99 out of 100 cases they would only say “nothing, sir” or make no reply at all. And when on the ball field Dutch players got a bit annoyed at something and started abusing us, we would be careful never to answer in kind. If we had responded they would only have become even more obstreperous and insulting. We had to smash them-but
