Footsteps (45 page)

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Authors: Pramoedya Ananta Toer

Tags: #Fiction, #Historical, #Literary

BOOK: Footsteps
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“If that’s the case, then it should be enough to set up a salon for intellectuals, Mr. Douwager, as is also the tradition in Europe. Indeed, the world still does value the intellectuals and scholars who have been prepared to die to defend the truth. Is there a scholar among us three, or among the people of the Indies?”

A worker from the print shop came in and handed me a proof of the next editorial. I excused myself to Douwager and checked over the proofs, stamping them as ready for printing. I asked the worker to summon Sandiman.

He left. Sandiman arrived.

“How is the Sunday edition?”

“Everything has gone to press, sir. You can take a holiday tomorrow, Meneer. Monday even, perhaps even Tuesday.”

“Thanks. Has Mr. Frischboten arrived yet?”

“He’s in his office. You can leave Bandung now if you like, everything’s under control.”

“Good. I’ll leave soon. If you don’t see me around again, that’ll mean I’ve left.”

“Have a good rest, Tuan.”

Sandiman left, and I apologized to Douwager that I couldn’t continue the discussion just then. He left. And I went to see Frischboten.

He explained that it would be impossible for the Princess to leave Java without special permission from the governor-general. He needed to give no justification for any decision he would make. The governor-general had special rights and was not bound by the law. The Raja of Kasiruta had been exiled through the use of these special powers. That his daughter had not been involved in whatever had brought about the decision was irrelevant. Such a practice came from the backward custom of the peoples of the Indies themselves that held that with blood ties went shared responsibility.

So I didn’t need to go to see the assistant resident. If it was possible, I should go straight to the governor-general.…

Haji Moeloek entered just as I was about to leave my office. He was displaying a row of teeth that was no longer complete. He was obviously happy.

“You see, Tuan, my ship is not leaving until the day after tomorrow, so I thought I would come and see you. Who knows, you might have a present for me. An opinion on the manuscript that I left you, perhaps?”

“Oh yes, your manuscript. I have read it all. I liked it very much. It really brightened me up when I read it. It turns out that you are a wonderful writer. You obviously have a lot of experience.” He smiled, this time not showing his teeth. “I promise you that I will publish it as a serial in
Medan.
As you said, I think it will take at least two years.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“What about payment, Haji Moeloek?”

“Just a copy of the paper will be enough, my friend.”

“Ah, your real name. Could perhaps you tell me?”

“Haji Moeloek is name enough, Tuan.”

I looked at him in amazement. He opened his mouth wide and again I could see his uneven rows of teeth, incomplete and stained black from cigarette tar. “I am very happy to hear that you want to publish it, Tuan.”

“In the name of Allah, Tuan Haji, I promise I will also publish it in book form.”

“Such a great blessing. Praise be to God! I’m so happy that I can leave the Indies with such beautiful news. I’m going back to Betawi today. If you are also going to Betawi, you’re very welcome to join me. I have hired an English motorcar, Tuan.”

“A taxi?”

“Yes, I hired it in Betawi.”

It was obvious that Haji Moeloek was rich. And it was then that I realized that it was not only London that had taxis now—so did Betawi. The first automobile to enter had now been followed by others.

I told him that I would be very pleased to come with him but that I still had something to attend to. He said he was happy to wait and would even take me where I wanted to go.

And so it was that he escorted me to see the Princess of Kasiruta.

It was half past four in the afternoon. The Princess was boarding with a Dutch family named Doornebos. I told her everything that had been explained to me by Frischboten. It was different from when we met in the office. Now she sat with her face turned away as if she didn’t want to look into my face.

She was wearing an evening dress made from brown-colored silk, as if to go with her enticing black skin.

“There is no use in going to see the assistant resident, Princess. I will try to see the governor-general himself, tomorrow or the day after. Don’t be discouraged. I’m going down to Buitenzorg right now.”

It was only then that she decided to look up at me, and at Haji Moeloek.

“Don’t forget our request for your assistance, Princess,” I added.

“So you will be going down to Buitenzorg by car. Would it be all right if I went with you as far as Sukabumi?”

“Of course,” said Haji Moeloek, as fatherly as he could be, and that was the first time that I heard him speak Dutch. “Come on, we can leave as soon as you’re ready.”

“Is it all right if I have ten minutes to get my things together?”

Haji Moeloek took out his gold pocket watch, looked at it, and replied openly: “Why not? Please do. We will wait.”

As soon as the girl left, he whispered: “Indo girls aren’t usually as refined as that.”

“She’s not Indo. Native. She is the Princess of Kasiruta.”

“Ah, this is the first time I have met a Native princess,” he murmured, I thought she was Indo.”

“She has been exiled with her family to Priangan.”

“A boring story. All stories that are not about a free and liberated life are tedious. It’s as if there is nothing else to tell about in this colony except exiling and oppressing. Other people travel the world, enjoying life, smiling and laughing, full of joy. Here there are people exiled in their own country.”

The Princess of Kasiruta emerged carrying a leather suitcase.

Haji Moeloek quickly took the case from her, and we all climbed aboard the automobile.

The driver was a young Indo, hunched up, and, it seemed, a rather surly type. He sat calmly beside Haji Moeloek. I sat in the back with the Princess.

The sun had begun to set and the car pulled up on the side of the road. The driver alighted and lit the automobile’s carbide lights. Then we continued the journey but at a reduced speed.

“Why are you so quiet, Princess?” I asked.

“What is there to talk about?”

“Many things, if you have the desire to. How many times has Princess ridden in an automobile?”

“This is the first time.”

“Do you like it? Our ancestors never rode anything like this.”

She let me listen to a little laugh as an answer.

Haji Moeloek turned around to the back and asked: “So, Tuan, what do you think of what I had to say that time about the Indos? Do you agree that they are a group that has made a contribution but has not been recognized for it.”

“If you were to put your ideas down on paper in detail, I’m sure it would provoke a lot of discussion. You would need to polish your analysis a little, adding things here and giving up things elsewhere. Why don’t you write your ideas down?”

“Maybe that’s the best thing to do,” he said. “Perhaps I also argue a bit too hard sometimes. Forgive me, Tuan.” He faced the front once again.

“So, if His Excellency the governor-general still refuses you permission to return home, you will surely be willing to help us with the magazine, Princess,” I said, trying to influence her. “Everything is always difficult in the beginning. But things always get easier later. And don’t forget—in Malay, Princess.”

“I think I would like it very much. But of course it is my father who will decide.”

“Fine. You will be able to speak to your father about it in a moment.”

After one hour on the road, we stopped in front of a simple dwelling on the side of the main road. As soon as the car had entered the front yard of the house, it was surrounded by a swarm of people. Everyone inside the house also came out, amazed to see a car stopping at their house.

Carrying her own case, Princess ran off and went inside the house. She didn’t come out again. An old man with glasses, wearing a kopiah on his head, dressed in a velvet shirt and black velvet trousers and carrying a cane, came out and invited us in.

My friend just listened when I spoke up to introduce myself in Malay. The old man nodded. With a movement of his hand,
he invited us to sit. Then he went into a room and didn’t come out for some time. Haji Moeloek kept glancing at me, perhaps protesting at having to wait here for so long. I pretended not to understand. It’s true, isn’t it, that sometimes a long wait can bring its own blessings?

The old man came out again, still with his cane, but this time his kopiah was pushed farther back on his head. And he seemed to have changed. His face shone, and he went straight into Malay: “So you are the chief editor of
Medan
, son. Thank you, son, thank you. I never expected it. I hear that you will seek an audience with the governor-general tomorrow or the next day. Good luck, son, good luck. And could you ask him also why it was that we were exiled secretly like this? You have no objections to asking about this, do you, son?”

“I will try, Tuan Raja.”

“Just say
Bapak.
And who is your friend?”

“Haji Moeloek, Tuan Raja,” answered Hans.

“What if you were to stay here tonight?”

I looked at Haji Moeloek, who happened to be looking at me at that moment. The light from the kerosene lamp reflected off his tired face. “Ah, it’s a great pity, Tuan Raja, but my boat is about to leave and everything has to be readied tomorrow.”

“Where are you going, Tuan Haji?”

“Jeddah, Tuan Sultan. Please forgive us, our time is almost up. We have to continue our journey.”

“What a pity. And you, son, where are you heading.”

“I am going home, Bapak. Buitenzorg.”

“Give me your address.”

And I gave him my address.

The automobile lurched off northward. Haji Moeloek now sat in the back with me and tried once more to convince me of the contributions of the Indos. After he was convinced that I was not paying much attention, he changed the subject to that of the big sugar plantations. He obviously knew many of the big men in sugar.

“They are all millionaire moguls, no doubt. You too, perhaps, heh?” I asked.

“No, not me. They are indeed like emperors with their enormous wealth. Who is surprised? Sugar from Java is in demand right around the world. The Europeans are hard at work trying to make sugar from beets, but they will always need sugar from
Java. As of the beginning of 1909, Tuan, sugar exports will go up ten percent. Formosa has still been unable to catch up to Java with its exports. It’s because the Dutchmen’s administration is better than any other. They calculate down to the smallest item.”

“It’s not easy for someone to become rich through trading.”

“Merchants are the only rich people there are, Tuan.”

“No, that’s not right. Others become rich through avoiding tax, speculation, squeezing and exploiting people, and through deceit. And the Tax Office doesn’t monitor these last three. So every wealthy person means another tax avoider.”

“Those American billionaires, Tuan, do you think they are the same?”

“There are no exceptions anywhere in the world, Tuan Haji. Tax evasion, speculation, exploitation, and deceit.”

“Such a guess is tantamount to making an accusation.”

So I repeated to him all that I had learned from Ter Haar, what had happened in the Harmoni Club, and also Ter Haar’s explanation of what van Kollewijn had said.

“But that’s not business, Tuan, that’s politics.”

“Yes, business that is politics, and politics that is business. A two-headed beast that has brought nothing but misery to the colonized people, Tuan Haji. You have heard of the Ethical Policy? That is what the Ethical Policy is all about! And the political targets of their efforts are the Natives, and the Natives remain forever destitute and poor.”

“I have never heard any of this before.”

“And the people in the sugar plantations who deal with the Natives directly, Tuan, are usually Indos. I’m sorry. They are the trusted tools of the sugar companies who ensure that no Native can ever better his income even when he deserves it.”

“That touches on my own role too.”

“Perhaps. So if you write about the contributions of the Indos, don’t forget about the other side as well.”

“Why don’t you expose this in your paper?”

“That time will come, Tuan. And you will be able to follow what is happening from Jeddah,” I said, convinced that it would happen.

“Are you serious? You will be the first to do anything about this since the sugar companies were set up half a century ago. And you will shake the shareholdings of the big business houses back
in Holland who have been financing the sugar companies all this time. You will make many enemies.”

“Let’s just wait for the right time.”

“Before we separate, Tuan, let me shake your hand as a sign of respect for your courage in doing what one day you will do.” He held out his hand. “As long as you remember that the sugar houses are more powerful than anyone else in the Indies.”

And just then the automobile stopped in front of my house. He couldn’t stop and said good-bye from inside the house. And I expressed my regrets that I wasn’t able to see him off at the harbor.

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