An Unimaginable Terror in the East

Tuesday, January 28, 1947, when the sun had risen above the horizon, many people had gathered in a field in Suppa, South Sulawesi. A barrage of gunshots blasted, and hundreds of people fell to the ground. Their lifeless bodies were then thrown into and buried in three large pits.

At that time, 25-year-old Sikati was sleeping soundly with her baby in her house in Kampung Ujung, Malongi-longi Village, Lanrisang District, Pinrang Regency, around 10 kilometers from Suppa. It was still minutes away from the morning prayer call, but sudden intrusive noises woke everyone up. Soldiers outside the villagers' houses were shouting, telling everyone to come outside.

At almost the same time, Ceddung, a young mother and a Quran recitation teacher in Kampung Kae', Tassiwalie Village, Suppa District, was already awake because of the commotion caused by soldiers outside her house.

Andi Munji in Kampung Suppa, Watang Suppa Subdistrict, Pinrang Regency, also got up from his bed. He was around ten years old at that time, and together with his mother who was holding his younger sibling who was still learning to crawl, they walked towards the field. He saw that many people had gathered there, monitored by soldiers equipped with full weapons.

Another young boy, Akil, was also there. He was older than Munji, whose house was only a few meters apart from his. Akil was about 20 years old when Dutch soldiers gathered all villagers in one big field. His father was Ambo Siraje, a Republican guerrilla and an undaunted opponent of the Dutch.

In that field, people from various villages were brought together. All men were told to sit cross-legged and were only allowed to wear pants. Meanwhile, women and children were placed under the houses. A Dutch soldier walked among those bare-chested men, observing them one by one before firmly pressing the gun trigger, sending bullets through their heads. According to some records, 208 men were killed without a fight on the Suppa field, or about 16 people per hour died, witnessed by their children, families and wives.

The cold-blooded massacre lasted from early morning until dusk. Many people wondered why they had to witness such a heinous action before their eyes. Sikati, Ceddung, Andi Munji, and Akil were a fraction of survivors among the thousands who died in South Sulawesi. When they had to recall the sorrowful incident, they took time to pause as tears fell on their cheeks. It was the first time in their life seeing more deaths than they thought possible. During the terrifying massacre, no one actually knew their own fate, and whether their life would end at the tip of that gun. They could only pray and surrender.

Later, the massacres in South Sulawesi would be known as the 40,000 Victims Tragedy, which was carried out by soldiers of the Special Forces Depot (Depot Speciale Troepen or DST) led by Captain Raymond Westerling.

The Terror

Early in the morning, Sikati  and hundreds of other villagers walked along the coast and carefully crossed a small river. They were herded towards Kampung Suppa under the supervision of well-armed soldiers. All of their houses were burned down, and they weren't allowed to take any belongings with them, except the clothes on their bodies.

Sikati stared grimly at her house and the blazing fire that illuminated the dawn sky. Her entire merchandise was engulfed in flames. When she tried to save some of her belongings, a Dutch soldier kicked her. The soldier then ordered Sikati, who was still brokenhearted, to start walking. No minute was spared for people to mourn over their house. The helpless villagers walked with countless thoughts running through their heads, clueless of what might await them at the destination. In no less than two hours, they finally arrived at the Suppa field.

A few days earlier, Sikati's husband, Abduh Rahman, was arrested. Dutch troops accused him of being a spy and a member of een bende, an insurgence group consisting of native troops. With hands tied at his back, her husband was taken away in a jeep. With a distraught feeling, Sikati saw her husband leaving from their yard.

On Thursday, a week before the massacre in Suppa, her father Daeng Mappile who was a respected figure and the first village chief in Malongi-longi village, was also shot dead on the same charge. She believed her husband's fate would be no different from her father's.

When she arrived at the Suppa field where people were gathered, there was a faint hope that she could meet her husband, but he was nowhere. As Sikati’s hope shattered, someone whispered to her, claiming to have seen her husband being shot just minutes before she arrived. His body had been thrown into the pits. Sikati's heart sank.

In the same place, Andi Munji sat close to his grandmother. He saw his father among the people sitting cross-legged. His father, Andi Monjong, was Suppa's pabbicara, subdistrict head. Andi Monjong's main responsibility was to report to the leader of Suppa, Andi Abdullah Bau Massepe Datu Lolo, who at that time resided in the city of Parepare.

The only way to travel from Suppa to Parepare in 1947 was by boat, and Suppa's pabbicara had to go there almost every week to report various matters, from the state of his people to political issues. For this reason, Andi Monjong was detained in Kariango prison for three weeks.

Andi Munji, along with his mother, visited his father several times to bring food. The detention room his father was kept in was far from proper, as it was strikingly similar to a trap or cage made of square-shaped wood.

His father's condition was very concerning. The detention “cage" was only sufficient for persons in a crawling position. No one could sit upright, let alone stand. "So if he wanted to eat, we could only feed him from the front. Mandrasa dikka (Very miserable)," said Andi Munji.

Andi Munji was the second of three children. Right before his father was shot, he was sitting on one straight line with the shooter, seeing his father's back from behind. Andi Munji imitated the shooting movement, pointing his thumb and forefinger out while clenching the rest. He saw the man shooting with his left hand. From a very close distance, almost pointing directly, the bullet from the man's gun pierced through his father's head. "My father fell down. Like prostrating, his face was facing the ground," said Munji. "That's Suppa's pabbicara, he's dead," said Palintang, Munji's grandmother.

Pabeseang was Munji's older brother. When his father was lying dead, Pabeseang ran to him, but he was stopped. His legs were pounded with a long-handled weapon until they were broken and paralyzed him for life. "I could only cry at that time," said Andi Munji. "But suddenly a Dutchman came and brought me bread, but I didn't eat it," he continued.

Apart from his father, Munji also witnessed his uncle and grandfather being killed in the same place. When his father's body was carried by several men to the pits, the bearers were also shot. The killing spree continued. The Suppa massacre, according to several records, was one of the deadliest operations done by Westerling because it was only carried out in one day. In addition to the victims in Galung Lombok, Mandar, around 800 people were killed only in a span of a few days.

The Victims

Westerling arrived in Makassar in early December 1946 with 123 other soldiers under the DST special forces unit. On December 10, 1946, they carried out the first slaughter in Batua, Makassar, with victims amounted to 45 people. The action was done to warn that the country was in danger. Hasanuddin University historian Edwar Poelinggomang calls it a shock therapy for the people.

South Sulawesi was chosen as the center of operations because it was a strategic area, being the capital of the Great East which covered all of Eastern Indonesia, or Groote Oost. The other factors were the contour of the region, its wide population distribution and the fighting spirit its people possessed. Meanwhile, in the forest, the guerrillas were still on the move.

In 1945, when NICA entered South Sulawesi, the Republican political struggle was divided. Dr. M. Natzir Said in his book SOB 11 Desember 1946 wrote that NICA cooperated with community leaders and replaced pro-Republican kings with those who would cooperate with NICA. These groups were the ones who helped Westerling and the Dutch troops carry out suppression actions, including forming PARNESI (Indonesian United States Party) and PARKI (Indonesian Freedom Party) led by Sonda Dg. Mattajang.

The Dutch launched their plan by holding a conference in Malino in July 1946 to pass the concept of a federal state, namely the formation of the State of East Indonesia, but failed. Then, on December 11, 1946, the negotiation was moved to Denpasar, Bali. "At the Bali conference, the State of East Indonesia was formed, because the delegates were forced by the threat of more victims, because Westerling had committed murders the day before," said Edwar.

Along with the decision, Governor General of the Dutch East Indies Van Mook in Batavia, issued an order to carry out standrecht or summary executions because the nation was in a state of emergency or Staat van Oorlog en Beleg. In the warrant, there were four regions that received the main attention, namely the Makassar, Bonthain (Bantaeng), Mandar, and Parepare afdeling which included Suppa.

At those four regions, according to Edwar, many paramilitary unit groups flourished, including KRIS, BPRI, TRI, LAPRIS, and Lipan Bajeng. In Parepare, the leader of the government of the Republic of Indonesia was Datu Suppa Toa Andi Makkasau while the highest leader of the paramilitary units was Datu Suppa Lolo Andi Abdullah Bau Massepe.

At that time, Andi Makkasau established relations with Java through trade. Some Suppa people were even sent to Java to conduct military training, and in return, paramilitary units could easily dock at Suppa harbor. For these reasons, Westerling visited Parepare in mid-January 1947. Westerling, along with KNIL troops and support native troops called Poke that had been trained since the coming of NICA, captured Andi Makkasau and drowned him in the sea. Bau Massepe was also captured and dragged by a car until he died. "These Poke troops spread terror even until July 1947," said Edwar.

In 1947, Java was saddened by an incident where a freight train from Bondowoso to Surabaya was overturned and locked from outside causing 100 people inside to suffocate. President Sukarno condemned the atrocity, but Kahar Muzakkar informed another horrible fact, that in Sulawesi there had been massacres that claimed 4,000, possibly even 40,000 lives.

Another version detailing the origin of the 40,000 victims claim was explained by military observer Salim Said. "Manai Sophiaan, Sopan Sophiaan's father, was the first to say that Westerling's victims were 40 thousand people," Salim Said told Historia.

President Sukarno filed a lawsuit against the Westerling tragedy in Makassar to the Dutch government as a war crime and human rights violation. The commemoration of the 40,000 victims tragedy was held for the first time in Yogyakarta in December 1947.

However, the total number of victims during the Westerling tragedy was still very much debated, although Edwar believes the number reaches thousands. "Based on the physical fact in all hero cemeteries in South Sulawesi, the number of victims might not reach 30,000," Edwar said.

Struggling to Survive

Ambo Siraje was a battalion commander who was in charge of dozens of troops. During the struggle, along with his family and troops, he waged guerrilla warfare from forest to forest. Akil, who was already 20 years old at that time, joined them. "I often went in and out of the forest with my father," he said.

After Bau Massepe and Andi Makkasau were declared dead, the pro-Republican forces scattered into the forests to save themselves. Akil and his mother returned to the village. "After the death of the Suppa leaders, the situation went awry. There was no hope anymore. Just like the feeling of a child who lost his father," Akil said.

Unexpectedly, before noon, villagers from Kampung Kae' were allowed to return home. Ceddung and the remaining women and children walked hand in hand. Before leaving the field where the massacre happened, she turned to the pits where several bodies were piled up, including her husband's body.

Her sadness didn't end there. Upon arriving at her village after a grueling journey, Ceddung was stunned to find ruins and ashes in place of her house. There was no food at all. Several people sat and cried desperately. Luckily, several people from other villages whose houses weren't burned brought them food.

Unlike Kampung Kae’ villagers, Sikati and the villagers from Lanrisang were only allowed to leave the field at dusk. They flocked in large groups, walking carefully through the rice paddies and along the coast. Their stomachs were rumbling, so they had no choice but to eat unripe corn to survive. "There was no food, there was nothing we could do," she said.

The suffering lasted for a long time. Sikati and her two children survived by building a small hut from the remains of their burned house. She sold food in her house and helped other villagers who were harvesting to get rice as payment. “Mapeddiki nak. Mapeddi (It's so difficult, kid. It's very difficult," she recalled.

Months later, the villagers were still traumatized whenever jeeps with military troops passed by their village. "All doors would be closed. People would even stop their activities. Everyone was terrified," said Andi Munji.

He believed the tragedy didn't stop that day, because the impact lasted for a long time and made some people too scared to speak about it. "Now there is a talk of demanding compensation. I personally will not go after it. Never. It's like pawning the lives of my parents," he said.

Ceddung also thought the same. She only hoped that a similar incident would never happen again. "Selalukamerinding, ca’kiddika ake kukilalai (I always get goosebumps whenever I remember that time)," she said.