Child of All Nations

by Pramoedya Ananta Toer

  He had run out of words, realizing that there was someone going out of his way to help him. He looked embarrassed and was silent.

  Nyai invited him to eat, alone because we had already eaten. Afterwards I took him across to Darsam’s house. The Madurese man greeted him by running about showing him where everything was: where the toilet was, which was the best way out of the complex if there was danger. I translated.

  He thanked us over and over again with an elegant bow, not the Japanese bending that he used with Nijman. He thanked Darsam too for his help in overthrowing Ah Tjong’s empire. But I didn’t translate that.

  Sitting in Darsam’s front room, it seemed Khouw Ah Soe was able to wrest back his character, his confidence. Darsam didn’t sit with us. Khouw Ah Soe spoke a great deal, for about two hours.

  On my return to the main building I found Mama had not gone to bed. She wanted to hear what Khouw Ah Soe had said, and I told her.

  “To come to another country without knowing the language,” she commented, “just because he wants to help his people advance! Meeting danger after danger. Child, that’s what a young person should be like. The Europeans came here as gangs of robbers and pirates. You must note the difference!”

  Three days and nights he stayed with us.

  From his other stories, I was able to gather that Nijman’s guesses were not wrong. Almost everything Nijman had said was right.

  He had left China with thirty or so others who headed east, west, southwest or south. He himself, a university student from Waseda, and four others, set off for the Indies. He entered through Bagansiapi-api in Sumatra by fishing boat from Singapore. Two of his friends headed for Pontianak in Netherlands Borneo. One stayed in Bagansiapi-api. He and one of his friends went to Betawi. His friend was left to work there. He himself made his way to Surabaya, an area known to be difficult to handle. Surabaya was the center for the Chinese gang, Tong, which, through its use of terror, controlled the lives of all the Chinese subjects of the Indies. The Tong gangs throughout the Indies were controlled from Surabaya.

  “Yes, the Japanese have even sent people overseas to learn to play and to make pianos—to Europe and to the United States.” He went on to tell how his people who went overseas weren’t like that. They broke their backs all over the world for no other purpose than to accumulate wealth. Then they came home hoping only to be admired, and to rebuild the graves of their ancestors. And only to fall into the power of bandits, who squeezed money from them every month and every year. For all time, forever, they would be the milk cows of those bandits as well as of the Tong bandits. If the bandits weren’t satisfied, their families at home would become the playthings of torment and torture.

  In the end they once again left home, spreading out through the whole world, sucking up more of the world’s wealth in order to please their bandit-ancestors. Not in order to build something grand, nor to convince the bandits that what China really needs is: Knowledge and learning; awareness of the need for change; and for a new man with a new spirit, ready to work for his people and his country.

  So the children of the overseas Chinese must be prepared to receive a modern education. A great, a very great amount of money must be gathered. The tribute paid to the ancestral and Tong bandits must be stopped. Modern schools must be founded, both for now and for the future. If not, the country of his ancestors would be swallowed up by Japan, just as Africa has been swallowed whole by the English.

  Even though his words sounded like an advertisement, they were interesting and impressive.

  “Every country in Asia that begins to rise and awaken is not just awakening itself, but is helping to awaken every other nation that has been left behind, including China.”

  “But science and learning are not the one and only key,” I said.

  “You are right,” he answered. “They are only the conditions. Equipped with modern science and learning, a wild beast will only become wilder and more bestial, and a vicious human will only become more vicious and cruel. But don’t forget, with science and learning even the most wild and bestial of all animals can be made to submit. You know what I mean: Europe.”

  The hair on the back of my neck stood up on hearing his last words. Mama would be quick to express her agreement with this young unsandaled sinkeh.

  “So don’t hold out any hopes that a modern education will ever be given to the conquered countries, such as this country of yours. Only the conquered people themselves know what their country and people need. The colonizing nation will only suck up the honey of your land and the labor of your people. In the end it is the educated among the conquered people who need to recognize their responsibilities.” Suddenly he stopped, changing the subject: “You no doubt know what happened in the Philippines.”

  His words came at me like an accusation. The Philippines was for me no more than a place on a map, a geographical location. The Philippines is not far from my own country but I knew almost nothing about it.

  “A pity, but no,” I answered.

  He laughed and his narrow eyes disappeared completely from his face. His sparse pointed teeth emerged to represent his absent eyes.

  “They studied well from the Spanish, from Europe, even before the Japanese. Even before the Chinese. It is a pity they were a colonized people, unlike Japan. The Filipinos could not develop because they were colonized. The Japanese have developed—developed too well. The Filipinos were good pupils of the Spanish. And the Spanish were bad teachers, rotten and corrupting. But the Filipinos didn’t just accept their teachings uncritically. The Filipinos are also great teachers for the other conquered peoples of Asia. They were the founders of the first Asian republic. And it collapsed. A great historical experiment.”

  I watched his lips closely, and their movements, which seemed somehow not quite rapid enough. His pointed teeth rose and sank behind those lips.

  “So you don’t know anything about the Philippines?”

  “Unfortunately, no. I only know there was a war between the Spanish and the Americans there.”

  He laughed.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “The Spaniards and the Americans—their war—it was all an act. There was no conflict between them; it was all to do with letting the Spaniards sell the Filipino people to the United States without having to lose face before the eyes of the world.”

  “How do you know all this?”

  “How? Wasn’t all this reported in the newspapers?”

  “I’ve never come across any such reports.”

  He nodded. “Don’t university students here have their own newspapers? Oh, I’m sorry, there are no universities in the Indies yet, are there?”

  “So students have their own papers?”

  “Of course, newspapers that are devoted to ideals, not yet sidetracked by personal and vested interests.”

  I couldn’t say a thing. The way he linked one thing neatly with another made it seem they were indeed all entwined. His explanations rose before me as a great construction. I couldn’t see through his argument. Yes, some great construction where every part contributed to strengthening every other part. All the peculiar things about him disappeared at that moment: his round and now brown face, his reddish pigtail…suddenly I was discovering something else about him that emanated from his presence. And that something was life itself. You could hear the groans, the cries and complaints, and the pounding of his heart; the glow and lightning brightness of his thoughts. I had never even thought about any of the issues he brought up. Now I could move on to imagine and wonder about many new things.

  I told Mama all about it. She meditated for a moment. Her eyes glassed over in emotion, and finally tears made the journey across her cheeks.

  “He has shown us how Europe and America are no more than evil adventurers, Child. If they had no cannons, would anyone honor them?”

  Before the guava-faced youth left our house, I felt I had to ask one more question: Was Nijman’s report true, that he had been beaten up in t
he Kong Koan building? He confirmed it.

  “Dangerous work,” I commented.

  “There may be worse yet to come.”

  “You are not afraid?”

  “The Philippines cannot be forgotten, can they? Even if they were deceived by Spain and America? It is inevitable that other conquered peoples will follow in their footsteps. Yes, even in the Indies. If not now, then later, when people know how to handle their teachers.”

  He left one dark night, refusing the use of a vehicle. He walked off to who knows where. He said he might return at any time to seek protection. Only Nyai and I knew of the help we had given him. He had needed friends and help.

  I think I can say it was from Khouw Ah Soe that Mama and I heard for the first time about the awakening of a whole people, rising up, advancing and respected, building a modern culture and civilization.

  I still remember those words of his, so beautiful, as if they came from some legend:

  “In the past peoples could live at peace in the middle of deserts and forests. Now they cannot. Science and modern learning will pursue everyone everywhere. Human beings, both as individuals and social beings, can no longer feel secure. Mankind is forever being pursued because modern science and learning constantly provide the inspiration and desire to control Nature and man together. There is no power that can bring to a halt this passion to control, except greater science and learning, in the hands of more virtuous people.”

  The Surabaya newspapers reported that the police were busy with the hunt for illegal immigrants from China.

  A Malay-Chinese newspaper published a report that quoted from a Chinese newspaper:

  It is true that Khouw Ah Soe entered the Indies illegally. It is now also known that he entered the Indies with several others. There were reports that one of these was a girl, a graduate from the Catholic High School in Shanghai. They have all been using false names since they left the Chinese mainland. In Hong Kong, Khouw Ah Soe was known as Tjok Kiem Eng and was wanted by the Hong Kong police. He was the troublemaker responsible for the cutting off of pigtails along the pleasure waterways of Hong Kong. From Hong Kong, he ran to Hainan.

  The paper also published some background. It was estimated that during the previous year 240 Chinese had entered the Indies illegally, and they were mainly concentrated in Bagansiapi-api and Pontianak. None of them spoke any Native language.

  Not long after that there appeared another report:

  Differing from most of the immigrants who came to the Indies, this small group of illegal immigrants did not become involved in the smuggling trade. Their intention was to create trouble in the Netherlands Indies by inciting the young people to defy their ancestors and their own parents.

  They are anarchists, nihilists, good-for-nothing agitators.…

  And I myself?

  After the appearance of Nijman’s article about Khouw Ah Soe, I did not visit the editorial office again. Several times he wrote me letters in an attempt to win me back, saying forget it, forget it; if you come and see me, I will explain the whole matter to you. I did not go. Instead it was he who came to see me. Nyai did not come out to meet him.

  He seemed much younger than usual. His clothes, even his shoes, were all brown. He took a parcel out of his briefcase and handed it to me.

  “You will find this book very interesting,” he said.

  It was about America, a continent that was totally unknown to educated Natives, except for the names of a few people and places, some geography, and a little information about its produce. He didn’t say anything more about the book.

  “I understand. You are very disappointed, perhaps even angry because of the interview affair. There was nothing else we could do. Look, this is your country, Mr. Minke. If you read this book, you will come to understand why America is thirsty for more inhabitants. It has vast areas of land, it is rich and empty. Different from Java, Mr. Minke. Fifteen years ago this country of yours had maybe only fourteen million people; now it is closer to thirty million. The land is shrinking because of the number of people. Some action must be taken against these illegal immigrants. It is in the interests of the Javanese themselves. If not, in just a few decades, this island could become just another little China. I’m sure that is not what you want.”

  Another cause for anxiety! I’d never thought of it like that. On some other occasion I would discuss it with Khouw Ah Soe.

  “Look, Mr. Minke, although the Dutch are the rulers, you can see for yourself that there is no great stream of Dutch families coming out here. It has never been the intention of the Dutch to pour out here to set up a colony. Wasn’t it right to publish this article, if it can help stop the flow of all these Chinese coming out to our country? The Netherlands Indies has spent great amounts of money for this purpose, working in your own interests, Mr. Minke!”

  So far I had not found any ground upon which to stand and analyze this problem. All I could do was listen.

  “The recognition of Japan as an equal has produced a number of problems,” he went on. “The Chinese of Singapore have already become restless. We don’t need that sort of thing in the Indies, especially not in Java. Be frank, Mr. Minke, do you agree with the ideas of Khouw Ah Soe?”

  “In some things he is right.”

  “Very true. But the truth does not necessarily bring any advantage.” He quickly set up defenses. “I think you would prefer to support your country than a truth that would hurt it.”

  Another point that wasn’t without grounds! I had never thought about any of this. I just had to listen.

  He left after he was convinced that he had influenced me. I had to promise to bring some new articles to the paper.

  Mama laughed when she heard the story. “You’ve forgotten already, Child; everything colonial is from the devil. There has never been any colonialist that has cared anything about our people. They are afraid of China itself. They’re jealous.”

  I forced myself to think how all these things came together: the progress Japan was making, the restlessness among the Chinese Young Generation, the rebellion of the Filipino natives against Spain and then the United States, the jealousy of the colonial Netherlands Indies towards China, the colonial hatred of Japan. And why wasn’t the Filipino rebellion reported in all the newspapers?

  And to the north, Siam was crying out because its silk, so popular in the Indies, was being pushed out of the market by Japan’s cheaper and shinier silk. In the land of my own livelihood, Japanese handicrafts were surreptitiously entering the market. The Javanese makers of blouses, combs, and brushes were losing their share of the market, because the Japanese goods were cheaper and shinier. But the Javanese were silent. They did not cry out. They did not understand why their livelihood was drying up.

  And the women of Southeast Asia could not live without combs, brushes, and tweezers to catch head lice—all made in Japan.

  With my inner eye I scattered my vision over my own surroundings. There was no movement at all. All Java was fast asleep, dreaming. And I was confused, angry, aware but impotent.

  5

  Something completely unexpected happened: a letter arrived from Robert Mellema.

  I was working in the office at the time. Mama called me from her desk and pushed the day’s mail across for me to read. From Robert, from Panji Darman, from Miriam de la Croix.

  There was no address on the envelope. On the stamp was a picture of the sea and coconut palms. The printing on the stamp said Hawaii. The postmark was illegible.

  My faraway Mama, it started.

  I didn’t know why that phrase filled my heart with emotion and my eyes with tears. The cry of a regretful child.

  “What’s the matter, Child?” asked Mama.

  “This letter is not for me, Ma. It is written for Mama and Mama alone.”

  “Read it,” she encouraged me.

  “I’ll read it slowly, yes, Ma?” and I began to read aloud:

  I know, Ma, that you will probably never forgive me. That’s up to you. Ev
en so, Ma, your son Rob, so far away now, begs your forgiveness, both in this world and the next. Ma, my Mama. Sun, moon, and stars have all been witnesses to my sins against you.

  And what meaning does my life have now? As low as your work might ever be, you will always be far more honorable than this child of yours, who has fought against you and caused you much sorrow.

  I have heard the village people say: The greatest forgiveness is that which a child asks of his mother; the greatest of all sins is that of a child against his mother. I am the most sinful of children, Ma. Your son Robert needs your most profound forgiveness.

  I glanced from the corners of my eyes at Mama. The look on her face hadn’t changed. She kept on with her work, calmly, as if she weren’t listening.

  I know my Mama so well, so I know you won’t want to read these writings of mine. No matter. That is a risk I must take. What is important is that at least there has arisen the intent to ask forgiveness of the person who gave birth to me, who has shed blood for me, who has groaned with pain for my life’s sake, and that intent has now been put into words. So if you do not answer this letter or even if you don’t read it, if I remain alive, I will know you have forgiven me, even though you may never say it. If I die in the near future, that will be a sign that you did not forgive me.

  Once, on a ship, someone said to me: You can ask forgiveness of God at any time at all, if you sin against Him. Sins against your fellow man are different again; it is much more difficult to get him to forgive you. God is all-compassionate; mankind is uncompassionate.

  I am not telling you where I am. What would be the point? It would only cause problems. I am on a ship. And I don’t need to give its name, nationality, or the flag it is flying under.

  After what happened in Ah Tjong’s house, I ran. By chance a horse cart was passing by. I jumped aboard and headed for Tanjung Perak. I was able to get aboard a junk heading for Manila. I did whatever work I was given, even that of cleaning the toilets—everyone’s toilet, not just the one I used myself.