Young people today have a weird habit. We like to make heroes out of left-wing figures from the past. Njoto is always at the top of the list. It makes sense. He looked cool and smart. He had a brilliant mind, wrote sharp essays, wrote speeches for the president, and played the saxophone. For my generation, he is the coolest rebel. I used to follow this trend and make him my hero. But lately, when his name comes up in history discussions, I just feel guilty. If Njoto watched me from heaven, he would probably beg to delete his name from history books. He would not want a fan like me.
There is a sad irony about Njoto’s life that people rarely talk about. We are so used to seeing him as a great hero. Because of this, we ignore the tragic reality of his final months. Before the bloody events happened, Njoto was actually an outsider in his own group. His friends, especially Aidit, slowly pushed him away. The reason sounded like a cheap drama on TV. Njoto was caught having a secret relationship with a Russian translator named Rita.
But it was not just about bad behavior. It was about global politics. At that time, the communist world was split between the Soviet Union and China. Aidit was taking the party strictly toward Beijing. Historical records even show that Aidit secretly met top Chinese leaders to talk about his plans. Because of this, Njoto’s relationship with a Russian woman was a big security threat. Aidit used this romance to accuse Njoto. He said Njoto was a dangerous pro-Soviet supporter who could ruin the party's direction. Because of this love affair, the party's smartest thinker lost his power. He was kicked out of Harian Rakjat, the newspaper he actually helped build. What makes it even crazier is that Njoto was the man who wrote President Sukarno’s most powerful speeches. He was the voice of the president. But inside his own party, he could not speak. He was never invited to the central committee's secret meetings again.
This is where his story gets really dark. When the top leaders were busy making the September operation, Njoto most likely knew nothing. A secret group within the party, which included Aidit but excluded other members, actually planned the movement. Njoto was already an outsider. He was just stressing over his ruined political career. But when the situation changed and the military operations began, Njoto’s name was at the top of the wanted list. Even President Sukarno tried hard to protect him, but it failed. He was hunted down, caught, and killed for a secret movement. He never even went to the planning meetings. He died taking the blame for a plan made by the very people who had just thrown him away.
The irony gets even worse when I admit something. My secret dream of becoming a journalist is actually influenced by him. I read about how he ran his newspaper and influenced many people with his sharp words. I thought I wanted to do exactly that. But let us look at my embarrassing reality. Njoto wrote texts that moved millions of people and fought massive political powers. Meanwhile, I am sweating in front of my laptop. I am struggling to read a few academic journals just to make my two older siblings happy. The gap between his reality and mine is an insult to history. In his early twenties, Njoto was facing national crises and debating state ideas. Meanwhile, my biggest life problem this week at the exact same age is just a Zoom call. It is an interrogation disguised as an evaluation by my siblings. I think hard not to design a social movement, but purely to defend myself. They ask non-stop questions about my study progress. They stare at me through the screen and demand to know why my chapter one draft is stuck. They ask exactly how many academic journals I have read this week.
Njoto spent his days planning cultural strategies to wake up the working class. I am just a seventh-semester English literature student. My stomach hurts from stress the moment my siblings start asking about my thesis. My research is purely about analyzing Muse lyrics using literary theory. But my siblings demand to know its social relevance. They ask me what real-world impact Matt Bellamy's conspiracy theories have on the people. They want my thesis to have a big impact on society. They completely ignore the fact that I just want to finish my graduation requirement.
My interests are purely practical. I read Njoto's radical ideas not because I want to start a revolution. I simply want an escape from the stress of a draft that my advisor constantly rejects. It is a cruel historical joke. A man who fought his entire life and died tragically for a belief is now idolized by a wannabe journalist. And this student's biggest motivation is only one thing: getting the thesis revisions approved quickly. I just want to escape the terror of family Zoom interrogations every time the semester changes.