My mentors from the ‘45 generation are field leaders, combat force commanders, and military leaders. There are five things I learned from them that have shaped my personality: First, Patriotism, their love for the homeland never receded despite their age; Second, Confidence; Third, Intellect, they are lifelong learners and very keen on learning about matters outside their domain; Fourth, Good Sense of Humor, which enables them to emotionally connect with their juniors and men they lead; Fifth, Flexibility, they’re not too bound by protocols. The attitude and leadership of a military leader are forged on the battlefield. As a young officer, I was fortunate to have received the education, training, nurturing and mentorship from many actors of the independence war and military operators in the early days of the Republic of Indonesia. At that time, there was no guarantee that the Republic could survive. The government had no budget, neither for development nor for the military. The nation’s rise was solely determined by the tens of thousands of Indonesian people from various ethnic groups, races, tribes, religions and regions. They were faced with choosing between joining the rising wave of the independence movement or playing it safe as the risk was just too great. But many chose to risk their lives to fight for independence so that we could be finally free from the shackles of colonisation that had lasted for hundreds of years. These are the people that we know as the ‘45 generation. They are the ‘generation of liberators’. They can be considered as the best generation of Indonesia. As a young cadet in the Armed Forces Academy and later as a young officer, I felt extremely lucky to have the opportunity to interact with many figures from the ‘45 generation. Even some of my family members are part of this generation. My grandfather, Margono Djojohadikusumo, was trusted by Bung Karno to continue the struggle for independence when Bung Karno and all indigenous nationalist figures were captured and exiled by the Dutch out of Java in 1934. One day before Bung Karno was about to be exiled to the small town of Ende, in Flores Island, East Nusa Tenggara, he summoned Pak Margono. Bung Karno gave a mandate to my grandfather to help found the Greater Indonesia Party (PARINDRA) and at the same time served as its chairman. At that time, the Indonesian National Party (PNI), the main party in Indonesia’s independence struggle, was dissolved by the Dutch. Almost all of its leading figures were arrested. When Bung Karno arrived in Jakarta after being released by the Dutch from exile, Pak Margono immediately went to see him and returned the mandate. Similarly, his two sons, Captain Subianto Djojohadikusumo and Cadet Sujono Djojohadikusumo were also part of the ’45 generation. My two uncles died in a battle against the Japanese army in Lengkong, Serpong, South Tangerang, Banten on January 25, 1946. In the event known as the Battle of Lengkong, the cadets of Tangerang Military Academy led by Major Daan Mogot tried to seize weapons from a Japanese base. However, almost all of the cadets were killed in the battle, including their commander and my two uncles. At the same time, my father, Soemitro Djojohadikusumo, upon returning from the Netherlands as the first Indonesian with a Doctor of Economics, which he obtained from the University of Rotterdam, immediately joined the fight to maintain Indonesia’s independence. He was involved in smuggling rubber and copra out of Indonesia to finance the smuggling of weapons into the country to support Indonesian troops. He was also instrumental in printing Indonesia’s first banknotes known as ORI (Oeang Republik Indonesia). At the age of 29, he became a personal assistant to Prime Minister Sutan Sjahrir. I was born in 1951, ten months after the Dutch recognised Indonesia’s sovereignty. My first memories as a child were visiting the Heroes’ Cemetery (TMP), where my two uncles were buried and visiting my grandfather’s house on Sundays. My grandfather always put up my uncle’s military tent in the yard before I arrived. It was a fixture that always welcomed me. My grandfather also showed me my uncle’s two beds, backpacks, and helmets that he kept. Even their uniforms were still neatly folded, and their military boots placed at the other end of their beds were always shiny. Subtly, my grandparents showed how much they appreciated and respected the ultimate sacrifice their fallen sons had made for the Indonesian nation’s independence, sovereignty, and honour. From there emerged the so-called spirit of ’45. It is a spirit that aims to elevate Indonesia into an independent, respectable, and just nation, with prosperous, happy citizens that are on par with other nations. It was this atmosphere that, subconsciously, became part of the value transfer from the ’45 generation to successive generations, including to me. My family is a family of the ’45 generation. I grew up in a freedom fighter environment. It was often referred to as the ‘republiken’ environment, using the terminology then. The ’45 generation rose to prominence because they did not want to be treated lower than dogs by the invaders. In the past, they used to hear the phrase verboden voor Honden en Inlanders (dogs and natives are forbidden to enter) and see it written on the walls of many establishments. Even in 1978, while serving as the Company Commander in Group 1 of the Special Forces (KOPASSUS), I came across this very phrase in a swimming pool in Manggarai, South Jakarta. It was carved on the marble wall next to the swimming pool. But at that time, the inscription was covered in green moss. My curiosity prompted me to order my men to clear the moss. And to my surprise, clear as day, were the Dutch phrase: Verboden voor Honden en Inlanders. Dogs and natives are not allowed entry into this swimming pool. What hurt, even more, was that we, the natives, come after the dogs. At that time, the Dutch regarded dogs as more respectable than us, the natives of the land. Besides growing up in a family of freedom fighters, I was also fortunate to interact directly with the key figures of the ’45 generation. I often visited the house of Pak Mohammad Hatta, the first Vice President. Pak Margono used to be his secretary. Once, my father, Pak Soemitro, even took me to the Presidential Palace (Istana) when I was about 6 or 7 years old. Bung Karno saw me and briefly lifted me. When I was a child, our house was often frequented by guests. Later, I would understand that they were important figures who played key roles in the war of independence and the nation’s formative years. Similarly, when I joined the Armed Forces Academy (AKABRI) in Magelang in 1970, some of my instructors and commanders were of the ’45 generation. Major General TNI Sarwo Edhie Wibowo, the Governor of AKABRI (1970-1974), was one of the great men I met. His last assignment was Commander of Territorial Command (Pangdam) XVII/Cenderawasih, and he retired with the rank of Lieutenant General. I also met Brigadier General Himawan Sutanto, the Deputy Governor of AKABRI, when I was a cadet. His last position was Chief of the General Staff of TNI with the rank of Lieutenant General. I also got to know Major General Wijogo Atmodarminto, the Governor of AKABRI (1970-1974). His last position was Commander of Defence Area Command (Pangkowilhan) II, with the rank of Lieutenant General. Another figure I met was Brigadier General TNI Sudarto, Commander of the AKABRI Cadet Division. In addition, I met Major General TNI Purbo S. Suwondo, the Deputy Governor of AKABRI (1962-1966). His last assignment was as a staff member to the Commander of the Security and Order…
