Indonesian Protest Song

Sometimes the most unlikely thing becomes a powerful political symbol of resistance. Unintended meanings become invested into the object, which then becomes a vehicle for protest and anger.  Such was the case with the fairly innocent Indonesian song called "Genjer Genjer".  The song was written in 1943 by Muhammad Arif, during the Japanese occupation of the Dutch East Indies (Indoensia).  It tells a simple story of a desperately poor woman collecting ganjer, an aquatic plant normally used as cattle feed, which she sells on the market as human food. The message: life was tough during the occupation.

A recording of the song by a group called Dengue Fever became a huge hit in the mid-1960s and quickly became associated with the nation's burgeoning Communist movement, which was increasing agitating against the Sukarno government. In 1965 the military, led by General Suharto, stepped in, overthrew Sukarno and crushed the Communist Party, murdering at least a million people.  The danger of the overt symbolism of the simple song, intimately associated with the poor and the downtrodden, was not lost on the knew military dictator.  Suharto had the song banned, and it remained silenced for over 30 years.  Suharto was overthrown in 1998 and once again "Genjer-Genjer" has become a popular refrain.  Have a listen.

Dangerous Art - Symbols of Liberty

Delacroix's painting "Liberty Leading the People" is much reproduced, though it has come to be wrongly associated with the French Revolution of 1789. Half woman, half Goddess, with a tricolor in one hand and a gun in the other, a Phrygian cap on her head and her breasts bared, Delacroix’s creation embodies the Liberty in whose name the revolution of 1830 had been fought. She stands at the centre of a pyramid, leading the people towards their freedom, while at the same time evoking the memory of the radical First Republic, which had been founded in 1792 and had chopped the head off a king and a queen.

The painting was bought in 1831 by King Louis Philippe who had been brought to power by the revolution of 1830.  Alas, the Citizen-King, Louis Philippe, turned out to be a major disappointment and as his regime became more oppressive, and as the number of attempts on his life increased, he decided to distance himself from revolutionary ideals and Delacroix’s painting was quietly removed from view and locked away for a decade and a half.

In 1848 Louis Philippe himself was overthrown in a revolution.  Louis Napoleon was elected President of the new republic.  He found Delacroix’s “Liberty” and it was proudly hung in public again, now that Freedom was back on the throne.  But when Louis Napoleon carried out a coup in 1851 and crowned himself Emperor in 1852 Delacroix’s "Liberty" was once more considered to be a liability and was locked away from public view. When Louis Napoleon, now known as Napoleon III (or “Napoleon the Little” as Victor Hugo bravely called him) was overthrown in 1870 Delacroix’s "Liberty" was again taken out of the basement and exhibited for public viewing.  She is still there, hanging in the hall of 19^th century French paintings in the Louvre, admired by thousands of international museum goers every day.  Who knows what sort of message she sends to Chines tourists, and visitors from other dictatorships.

Another work by a French artist is the Statue of Liberty, designed by the Alsatian sculpturer Frederic  Auguste Bartholdi in 1886, and presented to New York to celebrate the centenary of the French Revolution.  But this famous symbol of Liberty has been somewhat tamed.  Gone is the Phrygian cap, replaced by a saintly halo, and gone is the gun.  Most obviously gone are the bare breasts.  This is no violent Amazon leading a violent and radical revolution, but a steady, modest matron, holding aloft the light of enlightened progress while grasping a stone tablet that says: “4 July 1776”.

In 1989, two hundred years after the first great French Revolution, spring came early to Beijing and hundreds of thousands of democracy demonstrators filled the gigantic Tiananmen Square.  In late May some students from the art academy erected a statue to Liberty, made of plaster, wire and styrofoam. She became known as the Goddess of Democracy.  Chinese authorities leapt to the conclusion that she was based on New York’s Statue of Liberty, and this was proof, if proof was needed, that the student demonstrations were an American intervention in Chinese affairs.  In fact the work is made in Social-Realist style, almost Stalinist in its form, reminiscent of the type of art that had been approved during the years of Mao Zedong.  Alas, within a few days the square was the target of a military assault, the statue was destroyed, its makers slaughtered or imprisoned. Only a few photographs of the Chinese Goddess of Liberty remain.  Some day, perhaps, like Delacroix's liberty, she will be revived and one of her photographs will adorn Tiananmen Square.

This post has been inspired by my reading of Peter Burke's Eyewitnessing:The Uses of Images as Historical Evidence. Cornell University Press, 2001

The Green Men of Bali

I've been on the road for a couple of weeks with limited access to a computer, but arrived home in Zürich this morning after an exhausting two flight, 19 hour journey.  My head is spinning, but I hope to get a good night's rest (despite the fact that my brain is in another time zone completely) as work begins with a meeting at 8:30 tomorrow morning.

Meanwhile, here is a photo I took during dinner two nights ago in Bali, Indonesia.  Five Balinese musicians, dressed in Green t-shirts, belting out a fine rendition of "The Wild Rover". What brings these gentlemen to dedicate their professional lives to playing Irish folk music every night of the week, I don't know.  Is this a sad case of the worst side of globalization, or is it something to be cheered and celebrated?  Like I said, my head is spinning, and maybe it isn't just the jet lag. All I know is that on Thursday night I had a great time on a tropical island in Indonesia, and by the end of it these Balinese musicians had me longing for the wind and the cold and the lashing rain of the country that reared me - Ireland.

Bali's The Leprechauns

Singapore

I'm in Singapore this week, visiting friends and en route to Indonesia. The last time I spent some time here was twenty years ago, except for a very brief visit in 2000. The difference in twenty years is remarkable. The city seems to have loosened up a great deal, the river front has been rejuvenated and is flanked by scores of outdoor restaurents that, in turn, are backed by pubs and clubs. The most clear difference is the enormous number of new buildings. The city boasts of high rises designed by the likes of I. M. Pei, Kenzo Tange and Norman Foster. The new Marina Bay Sands complex, with three fifty story towers that are topped by a gigantic concrete boat containing a beach and infinity pool (fifty floors above the ocean!!) - well, maybe some like it. It is remarkable, that's for sure. I've never seen a building like it.

The Marina Bay Sands - Three 50 floor towers capped by a concrete ship

And then there is the beautiful new theatre arts centre, the Esplanade, designed by Michael Wilford. It now gives to the mouth of the Singapore river an iconic building to rival Sydney Opera House (I guess that's the point.)

The Esplanade Theatres on the Bay, Singapore

Yesterday we criss-crossed the city by foot, from Little India, though Arab street and the colonial quarter along the river front to Marina Bay. Along the way we stopped to see Norman Foster's new Supreme Court Building.  Its flying saucer roof provides the city with another iconic architectural feature, though it does blend with the dome of the old court house, which is presently being renovated and will become a museum. As we entered the lobby of the Foster building we were confronted with a barricade of x-ray machines and security guards. After being frisked and having had our bag checked, our camera was removed and we had to sign a form in order to deposit it in a locker. We had forgotten to bring IDs but luckily, and somewhat surprisingly, we weren't asked for any. When signing in a camera my friend had to note down her passport number, which she couldn't remember, so she just made one up. This is no doubt a crime, and in this capital and corporal punishment republic that could possibly be a flogging offense. The fact that she chose to break the law within the hallowed walls of the Singaporean Supreme Court seemed to me quite hilarious.

Norman Foster's Supreme Court, with its Flying Saucer

Once inside no one stopped us from going anywhere, so we took one escalator after another and went up and up until, on the eight floor, like in a science fiction movie, we ascended into the saucer and what confronted us was as unexpectedly brilliant as anything Hollywood could provide. The fast moving escalator spat us out onto a vast expanse of grey carpet that extended onward, undisturbed by furniture or any objects at all, towards a 180 degree semi-circle of glass panels that leaned outfrom the building some meters. Had I dared, I could have lain on the windows. The view, and above all, the ingenious framing of the view, was unforgettable. With my camera locked away downstairs I was forced to simply drink it in, and preserve it in memory. We could see the colonial buildings, like the old parliament building, now an art museum, below us, the meandering river Singapore, the new financial district and Marina Bay, with its three towered vulgarity, the cargo ships in the harbour beyond, one of the world's busiest, and in the far distance what I assume was Malaysia, though it might have been Indonesia. And further in the distance again, was that the equator that I could spot in the shimmering humidity? What most surprised me was two things: firstly the huge space that was set aside to take in the view, which had no utilitarian use at all - strange in this hardworking, materialist, capitalist city; secondly, that we had the best view in Singapore all to ourselves. Obviously it is the city's best kept secret, a secret well wrapped up within the solemn confines of the house of the law.

I highly recommend it. But don't run any risks- bring your passport number with you.

Welcome to Google - No Photos

Last night I met a friend at Google Zurich. It's the largest Google engineering centre outside of the USA.  She gave me a guided tour of the building. Okay, it's not like your everyday building. First there's the food. The dining hall was busy. Scores of googlers tucking into their organic evening dinner at 7:00 p.m..  Googlers can have full breakfast, lunch and dinner on site. And here's the best bit - it is all free of charge. No need to leave work at all.  A variety of cafes and relaxation spots, each with a different team, populate the building, and each serve delicious coffee, fresh fruit, cookies and brownies, and so on. Again, free of charge. You can have an entire social life within the building. The corridors are studded with a variety of cool features - like cable cars with couches and telephones, what looked to me like submarines with inviting bean bags. There's a fitness centre and a massage centre, a couple of snooker tables and a playroom with electric guitars. At every corner there's a cool box, with drinks, and ice cream - free of charge of course. If your bored, or you're lonely, or if the real world scares you, you could spend your life in the workplace, if the workplace is Google.

At the entrance to the building I saw the famous Google van.  The van with a camera on the roof, that prowls the streets taking random photos and uploading them on the web. Photos of your workplace, photos of your street, photos of your home and of you.  Google hopes to digitalise the entire heritage of humanity and then make it available to all, for free of course, just like the brownies and cool drinks that it give free of charge to its Googlers. Google wants to copy every book, copy every photo, photograph every building, every painting, every face, and make them available to all. Google wants to create a completely transparent world.

 I asked my friend last night if I could take a photograph. No, she told me, "We are not allowed to take any photos in the building". That's why this blog post has no photo. Google doesn't allow itself to be photographed.

Article first published as Visiting Google - No Photos on Technorati.

Institute for War, Holocaust and Genocide Studies

I spent a week recently doing research in Amsterdam, at the NIOD Institute for War, Holocaust and Genocide Studies, formerly the Dutch Institute for War Documentation (NIOD) on the beautiful Herengracht.  The institute is housed in a magnificent building, a stones throw from the book stores and book market on Spui, not far from the Anne Frank House.  I worked there, from 9:00 a.m. to 5:30 p.m. everyday, with just one break for lunch at a nearby cafe, of which there are more than plenty in the vicinity.

NIOD Institute for War, Holocaust and Genocide Studies, Amsterdam

One of the things I came across when researching propaganda films is this short film from World War Two, made by the Dutch government in exile and the Canadian film board.  It is in English, its target audience being North Americans. Like much propaganda, in hindsight is strikes one as naive, almost simplistic.  The stereotypical images of pre-war Holland will certainly bring a smile to your face. The few seconds depicting the bombing of Rotterdam in 1940 were images I had never seen before.

Mao Zedong and China in the 20th Century World

The International Institute of Asian Studies has just published my review of Rebecca Karl's biography of Mao Zedong, Mao Zedong and China in the Twentieth-Century World in the summer edition of their quarterly The Newsletter.