The Weight of Silence: Impunity, Memory, and Transitional Justice in Indonesia
What happens when a nation refuses to reckon with its darkest chapter?
by Sabrina Nour Touijer, TAF Regional Peacebuilding Analyst
Between 1965 and 1966, Indonesia witnessed one of the worst mass atrocities of the 20th century. An estimated 500,000 to one million people were killed following the failed 30 September Movement, in which six army generals and one army officer were kidnapped and assassinated by a group of military personnel. In response, the Indonesian military, under the rising influence of anti-communist General Suharto, launched a nationwide purge targeting members and supporters of the Partai Komunis Indonesia (PKI: The Indonesian Communist Party). The campaign led to widespread killing, torture, sexual violence, forced labour, and forced migration and displacement.
Though interpretations differ, with some describing the violence of 1965-1966 as a genocide, and others framing it as a horizontal conflict between right- and left-wing groups, the scale and brutality of the killings remain undisputed. The massacres marked the beginning of General Suharto’s New Order regime, which ruled Indonesia for 32 years.
Yet, nearly 60 years later, the question of accountability and justice for these atrocities remains unresolved.
Despite repeated calls from survivors, human rights groups, and international bodies, Indonesia has failed to hold perpetrators accountable and deliver meaningful justice to victims and their families. Efforts toward truth and reconciliation have been inconsistent and largely symbolic, with no formal judicial processes established to prosecute those responsible.
Transitional Justice In Indonesia
Truth-seeking is a cornerstone of transitional justice and an essential component for uncovering historical wrongs and laying the groundwork for reconciliation and accountability. In Indonesia, however, this process has been repeatedly obstructed by institutional and social barriers.
Under Suharto’s New Order regime, the 1965-1966 massacres were officially framed as a defensive action essential to safeguard the nation from communist subversion amid political turmoil. This state narrative, reinforced through decades of propaganda and education, cast victims as national threats, effectively silencing survivors and distorting public memory.
Efforts to uncover the truth and deliver justice to these victims have been systematically hindered by deep-rooted political opposition and the influence of military elites. Initiatives such as the establishment of the Special Human Rights Courts under Law No. 26/2000, the 2012 Komnas HAM report, and the 2015 International People’s Tribunal in The Hague, have led to limited results. These developments resemble what some refer to as “judicial theater”, where legal proceedings serve more as a political show rather than a genuine pursuit for accountability. While isolated prosecutions, such as the 2009 conviction of local militia leader Edi Sucipto have occurred, high-ranking officials have largely evaded accountability, perpetuating a culture of impunity.
In the absence of meaningful state-led initiatives, civil society has stepped in to preserve historical memory. Grassroots initiatives like The Year of Truth campaign from 2012-2013, provided a critical platform for victims to share testimonies and raise public awareness of the atrocities that occurred in 1965-1966.
Yet, justice for past human rights violations remains an uphill battle. Law No. 27/2004, which aimed to establish a Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC), was struck down by the Constitutional Court, following criticism from human rights groups over provisions in the law that tied victim compensation to the granting of amnesty for perpetrators. Instead of amending the law, the court cancelled it entirely, leaving Indonesia without a formal institution to resolve past human rights violations outside of the courtroom.
The failure of both judicial and non-judicial mechanisms is rooted in the persistence of New Order elites within Indonesia’s current political landscape. Many of the same political elites continue to wield influence and sustain authoritarian-era legacies. This elite continuity has been destructive in bringing justice to victims of the 1965-1966 mass violence and curtailed democratic consolidation, producing what many describe as a “low-quality democracy” characterized by significant legal and institutional reform but weak implementation.
There was a brief moment of renewed optimism in 2014, when Joko Widodo, then the only presidential candidate who explicitly committed to addressing and delivering justice for past human rights violations, was elected president. In May 2015, his administration introduced several non-judicial mechanisms, including a proposed Reconciliation Committee to address unresolved cases such as the 1965-1966 massacre. This initiative, however, was quickly abandoned in August that year following the appointment of retired general Luhut Panijaitan as Coordinating Minister for Political, Legal, and Security Affairs.
President Joko Widodo has since acknowledged Indonesia’s history of gross human rights violations and expressed regret for past incidents, including the 1965-1966 massacres. His statement followed the findings of the Team for the Non-Judicial Resolution of Past Serious Human Rights Violations, which he had commissioned in 2022 to fulfill a campaign promise first made during his 2014 presidential run. This acknowledgement, however, did not entail any further judicial action and reform.
Despite brief moments of hope, the path toward truth and justice in Indonesia remains uncertain. With political elites reluctant to confront the country’s violent past and victims’ voices continue to be marginalized and silenced, genuine reconciliation remains elusive.
Why is Transitional Justice So Important?
Durable peace cannot be achieved without addressing the legacies of violence and creating the conditions for genuine national reconciliation. In many societies emerging from conflict, transitional justice has become a cornerstone for this process. Once criticized for “opening old wounds” and destabilizing fragile political orders, transitional justice is now widely recognized as a mechanism that helps societies confront systemic abuses, establish historical records, and promote individual and national healing. By documenting the extent, impact, and responsibility for violence, it creates a foundation for reform and a pathway toward reconciliation.
German philosopher Jurgen Habermas once argued that confronting and remembering past abuses would reinforce a commitment to democratic values and reforms. This idea captures the essence of transitional justice: it is not solely about accountability for past atrocities, but also about shaping the future of governance and ensuring that peace is both just and long-lasting.
Transitional justice encompasses a broad range of judicial and non-judicial mechanisms, including truth-seeking initiatives, reparations, prosecutions, constitutional and legal reforms, institutional restructuring, archive preservation, and the strengthening of civil society. Together, these approaches aim to address a nation’s legacy of large-scale conflict, repression, and human rights violations by ensuring accountability, delivering justice, and fostering reconciliation. These mechanisms should be tailored to the specific context, led and owned by national actors, and centered on the needs of victims, empowering societies to transform and contribute to sustainable, long-term peace.
Transitional justice often unfolds in two phases. The first focuses on stabilizing post-conflict societies through symbolic but essential measures such as trials, truth commissions, and reparations programs that signal a clear break with the past. These mechanisms help build public confidence that new leaders are committed to reform and the rule of law. The second phase emphasizes healing and reconciliation, which require the inclusion of all parties: victims seeking justice and perpetrators confronting their role in past abuses as part of a shared future. Without accountability, impunity risks fueling cycles of violence and undermining fragile peace. Truth commissions, in particular, play a vital role in fostering dialogue across political and social divides. In doing so, they bridge the gap between individual and collective healing, allowing societies to publicly reckon with the violence of the past and begin a process of national healing.
Why Is It Important for Indonesia to Address Its Past?
For decades, Indonesia has lived under the shadow of the 1965-1966 massacres, a period of mass violence that claimed the lives of hundreds of thousands of alleged members and sympathizers of the Indonesian Communist Party (PKI). From the outset, President Suharto’s New Order Regime imposed a rigid narrative: the PKI was framed as a treacherous force responsible for the kidnapping and murder of six generals on October 1st, 1965, and therefore needed to be completely eliminated from all levels of society. Through state-controlled education, propaganda, rhetoric, and symbolism, this version of history was institutionalized, leaving little room for alternative narratives. As a result, generations of Indonesians grew up in a climate of fear, silence, and stigmatization.
The state’s stigmatization of alleged communists and sympathizers fostered deep reluctance among victims to speak publicly about their experiences, rendering survivors of the violence essentially voiceless. Even with the collapse of the New Order regime in 1998, this culture of suppression and silence continued to persist. Prominent military figures implicated in or associated with the New Order regime have remained influential in post-Suharto Indonesia. General Wiranto, for instance, pledged to protect Suharto from prosecution, and has later gone on to serve as Coordinating Minister for Politics and Security under President Joko Widodo. Other military officers, both serving and retired, have consistently blocked attempts to legally review or prosecute the actions of their predecessors’ handling of the 1965-1966 massacre. Civil groups have tried to demand prosecutions for these events, but military intervention ensured these efforts have been hindered. In 2017, General Syahnakri warned that calls for judicial reconciliation models by activists would lead to “fresh bloodshed”, illustrating how the military still seeks to control how Indonesia’s violent past is discussed.
Despite hopes that democratization would lead to truth and reconciliation, Indonesia’s post-1998 leaders have relied on networks of retired generals, ensuring that meaningful justice and reconciliation efforts remain ultimately unviable. As long as elites tied to the New Order regime remain in positions of power and influence within the current Indonesian political landscape, prospects for truth and reconciliation will not come to pass.
Nevertheless, the need for justice is undeniable. Victims deserve acknowledgment, accountability, and reconciliation. Failure to properly address the atrocities of 1965-1966 risks perpetuating a cycle of impunity, undermining Indonesia’s democratic aspirations. Confronting the past is not simply about memory, but also about shaping the foundations of the nation’s future.
“The past, or historical memory, is not just a matter of active, intentional remembering or forgetting. The past soaks into the ground of the present, saturating it with meaning and shifting the landscape with its cultural and emotional weight. It can be buried or even burned, but its ashes change the composition of the soil” (Santikarma, 2000; cited in Zurbechen, 2002, p. 578).
Edited by Phan Quang Anh Bui, Frontier Analysis Editor
