Pak Harto was a hard-working, very disciplined and meticulous person. I witnessed his daily life. He woke up very early in the morning. Every day he arrived at the office at 08:00 am sharp.
His distinctive features were his neat writing and strong memory, also known as photographic memory. He was also very good with numbers.
He was an avid reader as well. Thus, Pak Harto strongly encouraged people to study science and technology, even abroad, although he was never educated abroad.
He always smiled. He rarely got angry or rarely seemed angry.
When he got angry, he would be silent. And he did not want to talk to angry people. These are some of my memories of Pak Harto.
I became Pak Harto’s son-in-law in 1983. At that time, I was a captain and had conducted operations in East Timor twice.
The first one was in 1976 when I was the Platoon Commander of KOPASSANDHA Group 1 (now KOPASSUS) with the rank of Second Lieutenant. I joined the Nanggala 10 team led by Infantry Major Yunus Yosfiah.
The second one was in 1978, when I was the Commander of Para- Commando Company codenamed Chandraca 8. My troops were then a strike force company directly under the leadership of the sector commander.
First, I was under East Sector Commander Infantry Colonel R.K. Sembiring Meliala. Then I was under Central Sector Commander Infantry Lieutenant Colonel Sahala Rajagukguk. At that time, Infantry Colonel Sembiring was the Commander of the 18th Regimental Combat Team (RTP 18) with KOSTRAD Linud 18 Infantry Brigade as its core. Meanwhile, Infantry Lieutenant Colonel Sahala Rajagukguk was the Commander of the Regimental Combat Team (RTP 6), with KOSTRAD 6th Infantry Brigade as its core.
Pak Harto was a hard-working, very disciplined, punctual and meticulous person. I had the privilege to witness his daily life. He woke up very early in the morning. He arrived at his office at 08:00 am sharp. At 01:00 pm, he would be at home for lunch.
In the afternoon, he would play golf three times a week. While at 19:00 from Monday to Friday, he would receive guests. He would have dinner at 21:00. Then at 21:35, after the news broadcast Dunia Dalam Berita (World News) on TVRI was finished, he entered his study.
His study was very small. The table was also very small. Indeed, if we compare it to the houses today, even my own house, his house was relatively smaller. The bedroom was not en suite. That was why his study was very small.
Every night, there would be a pile of folders on his desk that could reach 40-50 centimetres in height. I heard from his aides that there were at least 40 folders and letters that he read and signed every night from Sunday to Friday. Only on Saturday nights would one not find him by his desk.
I often saw him working through 01:00 or even 02:00 in the morning. Meanwhile, he would wake up at 04:30 in the morning or 05:00 at the latest. Sometimes he only got 3-4 hours of sleep. This went on for decades. We can only imagine how hardworking and meticulous he was.
His other distinctive quality was his neat handwriting and photographic memory. He was also very good with numbers.
In 1985, when I had just been appointed Commander of the 328 Airborne Infantry Battalion/KOSTRAD, I went to see him. He then recounted to me at great length and in great detail his experience in forming, recruiting, training, and building a combat battalion.
He recounted his experiences as a Squad Leader, Platoon Commander, Company Commander, Battalion Operations Officer and many more. He shared many practical techniques and practices and granular matters. He could even remember the educational level of each of his erstwhile subordinates.
I was astonished to listen to him. At that time, it would have been 17 years since he left the Army and 35 years after his duties in the War on Independence. We can only imagine how a President, Head of State, Head of Government who controlled national development agenda ranging from pesticide, fertilisers, seeds, irrigation, aircraft factories, railway factories to foreign political issues, and who had not commanded his battalions for decades, could still vividly remember the formation, recruitment and training of army units at the squad, platoon, company and battalion level.
I applied the lessons that he shared with me when I was the Commander of the 328 Battalion. That has made the 328 Battalion very reliable and recognised by many as one of the sharpest battalions over the many-many years.
Also characteristic of him was that he deeply understood Javanese philosophy and the history of the archipelago. Pak Harto widely articulated his leadership with ancient teachings and Javanese philosophy. This is understandable because all his education took place in Indonesia, in his hometown of Kemusuk village in Yogyakarta. Most of his readings were from Javanese scholars from the past centuries. The philosophy that he most often taught was ojo dumeh, ojo lali, ojo ngoyo, ojo adigang, adigung, adiguna; in addition to ojo kagetan, ojo gumunan, and sing becik ketitik sing olo ketoro. The book that he published, Butir-Butir Budaya Jawa (Javanese Cultural Maxim), is very useful. It is a compilation of maxims, teachings and adages.
His book is very important to understand the Indonesian psyche and understand the Indonesian cultural background because, of course, Javanese culture greatly influenced the Indonesian outlook. These teachings are not mere slogans. For many they became a guide to successful living, a guide to a happy existence in this life. It was also a very practical guide, and actually, in my opinion, they became the voice of wisdom carried through the ages. Therefore, one who follows the teachings makes use of the wisdom of our predecessors, of our ancestors and our elders.
I would like to recount one occasion when the 328 Battalion I led was ordered to carry out operations in East Timor. One night before leaving, I was summoned by Pak Harto to his residence in Jalan Cendana.
I told my subordinates that Pak Harto called me. They were happy. It had become a tradition that when the Commander-in-Chief summoned someone before they carried out missions, Pak Harto would provide them with sangu or special financial assistance. These funds could be used to beef up the logistics, thus reducing the burden of the commanders.
I arrived at Cendana before 8:30 p.m. After receiving a guest, he met me and asked whether it was true that I would carry out an operation the next day. I gave an affirmative answer.
Then he told me, ‘I only have three pieces of advice for you, Bowo. Ojo lali, ojo dumeh, ojo ngoyo. Keep it close to your heart!” After I stated that I was ready, Pak Harto gently clasped his hands on my head as a gesture of blessing, as he always did to his children, grandchildren and loved ones, and allowed me to leave.
After returning to the battalion in Cilodong, all the officers were waiting in the operations room, what we called the Yudha room, the War room. They were waiting for good news from Pak Harto’s residence. I conveyed to them that I only met Pak Harto for five minutes. In the short meeting, Pak Harto left three messages: Ojo lali, ojo dumeh, ojo ngoyo.
I also told them that, for a short while, I was also surprised and a bit disappointed. Because instead of receiving funds, I was only given three pieces of advice. However, during the hour-long journey back from Cendana to Cilodong, I pondered about the three pieces of advice given by a Commander who grew up in combat operations.
Pak Harto was the initiator and executor of the General Offensive of March 1 that managed to take back control of Yogyakarta for six hours at the end of 1948. In fact, at that time, the Dutch military was very strong in Central Java. He was also involved in various suppression operations in Sulawesi, such as the Andi Azis rebellion. He also led the West Irian liberation as the Commander-in-Chief of Mandala Operations. He was also a key figure in putting down the G30S/PKI communist rebellion in 1965.
As a Commander-in-Chief with extensive combat experience, Pak Harto’s advice naturally must have a very deep meaning.
First, ojo lali. I understood this to mean we must not forget all the lessons you have received. This includes all the life lessons from your parents, religious teachings, elementary school lessons, and military lessons we received as cadets and soldiers. If we remember these lessons, we will be prepared to face all eventualities.
For instance, in the military, a basic lesson is to always be on your guard. Even in a peaceful surrounding like our training ground, every platoon and barracks will have a sentry at night. This may sound basic, but this is the key to survival in combat situations. We will take turns to guard our fellow cadets at night. In my experience, so many military disasters came about precisely because some leaders did not heed this fundamental lesson. Often, sentries will fall asleep, or a unit will be so exhausted that it will not put out a sentry. This happened to me during one of my operations. Luckily I woke up in the nick of time to engage a group of guerilla soldiers crawling to attack us. I will tell this story at a later stage. Therefore this first warning, ojo lali, has very big implications.
Second, ojo dumeh, do not be arrogant. An arrogant person tends to underestimate the enemy. He would lack vigilance due to overconfidence. Many times, in military history, underestimations of the enemy’s strength led to catastrophes.
Third, ojo ngoyo. Do not force yourself beyond your capability. Do not force your men. There is a limit to what we can do. We must not stretch ourselves beyond our capacity, especially when conducting military operations. We must be cool, rational, full of spirit and eagerness, but we must hold our emotions in check. We must not be easily provoked by the enemy or overly ambitious to hold glory. To be daring is a military virtue.
To be reckless leads to disaster. Remember this, or else you will put your soldiers’ lives at risk.
Given the significance of Pak Harto’s advice, we wrote Pak Harto’s three pieces of wisdom (wejangan) on the map in the command post every time a military operation was carried out. This had become a tradition of the unit I led 328 Battalion. From that time until now, I have held these three points, dear to my heart. When I created my political party, GERINDRA, I made sure that these three points feature prominently on the walls of the party branches.
Thank God, in one particular operation, the 328 Battalion demonstrated excellent performance. The Operation Commander gave it an extraordinary promotion. Members of 328 Battalion were allowed to enter the Officer Candidate School (Secapa) and Non-commissioned Officer School (Secaba) without sitting the test.
He was also an avid reader. That’s why Pak Harto encouraged everyone to study science and technology, even to do it overseas. This is despite Pak Harto never having studied abroad himself.
He was always smiling. He rarely got angry or seemed angry. When he was angry, he would become very quiet. He refused to talk to anyone he was angry with. That’s what I noticed of Pak Harto.
On Pak Harto’s habit of responding in silence, I recalled a story I experienced with Pak Harto and Ibu Tien Suharto. Then, I was having dinner with them. There were only the three of us.
Ibu Tien asked Pak Harto, ‘Pak, is it true that you will replace the Army Chief of Staff (KASAD)?’ Pak Harto replied, ‘Yes, it is time for succession.’
Ibu Tien replied, ‘Pak, if I may suggest, the Bali Military Commander, Pak Dading, would be a perfect choice. He is tall, well-built, and good looking. He should be the new Army Chief of Staff.’
Pak Harto glanced at me with a smile in his eyes. I tried to guess how Pak Harto would respond to Ibu Tien. But Pak Harto was silent. He did not comment nor refute Ibu Tien’s suggestion.
The next day I had dinner with Pak Harto and Ibu Tien again. It was Friday night. Ibu Tien brought up the subject again, ‘Pak, how about the KASAD appointment? Have you made any decision yet?’
‘I am still considering it’, Pak Harto replied. ‘It will be Pak Dading, right Pak?’ Ibu Tien asked, a bit insistent. Pak Harto turned to me and gave me that same mysterious smile. He did not comment.
The upcoming week, around Monday or Tuesday, I had another dinner with Pak Harto and Ibu Tien. Earlier in the morning, Kompas daily wrote that General Rudini was appointed Army Chief of Staff. That night Ibu Tien grumbled to me in front of Pak Harto. ‘Bapak [Pak Harto] didn’t take my advice.’ Ibu Tien sounded a bit upset that Pak Dading was not chosen.
Pak Harto calmly replied, ‘Bu, in choosing a leader, one should not pick based on looks. There are other factors I have to consider.’ Hearing Pak Harto’s calm and soothing reply, Ibu Tien accepted the decision, albeit begrudgingly.
From this interaction, the takeaway is that, first, a wife’s role is critical – and a wife certainly influences her husband. Sometimes a wife’s instincts are also crucial.
I also noted that appearance is vital for a leader. If we look at the pictures of great world leaders, such as Alexander the Great and Julius Caesar, they usually look large, strong and handsome.
In my life, I learned that people, especially women, take appearance into account when appraising a leader. In women’s eyes, looking good is a winning edge. Looks are a deciding factor. Good-looking figures have a clear advantage, in my opinion.
I learned from Pak Harto’s wisdom to choose a leader not merely based on looks, not only based on a dashing appearance. There are other factors.
I also learned from Pak Harto about how he kept his decision confidential, even from his wife. When Ibu Tien first brought up the discussion about Pak Dading, I was sure that Pak Harto at that time had already made up his mind on choosing Pak Rudini. But still, he kept it to himself.
Once the new KASAD was announced, he could explain the reason behind his choice calmly. This may be a slightly amusing story, but there are many lessons to learn from this interaction between Pak Harto and Ibu Tien.
