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Conclusion

"(...) if we want to restore the body of our revolution to a healthy state and to make the tree of our revolution fertile again, the cancer or parasites in the form of city devils, namely the bureaucratic capitalists, thieves and corrupters, must be crushed from the bottom to the top"
(Aidit, September 1965)

"Amok is the only Malay word that the rest of the world has recognized and adopted; it describes a condition, the willingness to go berserk if thwarted. The threat of running amok is usually sufficient; more stable people give way rather than risk the consequences"
(William Smithies, Second secretary of Australian High Commission,
September 1964)

Aftermath

At approximately 04:00 AM, on the night between September 30 and October 1965 a group of young officers calling themselves the "30 September Movement" mounted simultaneous raids on the homes of seven of the leading Indonesian generals, killing six of them, including Yani, and hurting the seventh: Nasution. An unknown Lt. Colonel from the Palace Guard named Untung took control over Radio Indonesia and announced that his revolutionary movement had taken "preventive action against a plot by the General’s Council, a CIA sponsored subversive movement [...]," and at noon on October 1, Untung assumed power.1 Just one day later, it seemed like the little known General Suharto had made a counter-coup, and assumed power over the army.

By September 1965, the activities of the US embassy and administration on Indonesian affairs continued its normal routine of slow wind-up. The US evacuation continued, and Green were under orders to reduce staff down to "the hard core necessary to maintain essential, as opposed to desirable, contacts and reporting." The final MAP contract ended on Sep30 1965, and the involved military advisors were scheduled to leave before the ending of the contract.2 The reporting from the embassy bore the impression of isolation as well as melancholy, and reflected both the narrow scope of remaining US contacts with Indonesians, as well as the expectations of an upcoming showdown. Sukarno was visibly ill, but the US estimated that he still had a few months left in full power, possibly more. A military contingency plan for American involvement in Konfrontasi was under preparation, replacing a preliminary report from spring 1965, but the plan was not scheduled to be ready for some time yet. 3 On September 15 , Ambassador Green had called for an increased psy-war program in Indonesia, starting with extended broadcasts of BBC and Voice of America.

The tenseness in Djakarta had recently been added to by petroleum shortages, and the current rumors was that either a military coup or a nuclear detonation would occur on October 5. In the last week of September, rumors of a cabinet change in favor of PKI raised the US attention, "The willingness of the PKI to exploit this situation and their continuing confrontation of the Muslim student group (HMI) indicate a significant increase in PKI confidence and their willingness to act.," Chester Cooper and Donald Ropa reported to McGeorge Bundy in the weekly brief on events in Asia.4 The date was September 28. The report did not lead to any change of US schedule. On September 30, State Department and White House actions were following a normal schedule.

On the morning of October 1, Washington woke up to the news of a coup in Djakarta, performed by an unknown group of young officers who called themselves "the 30. September movement," and under the leadership of the unknown Lt. Colonel Untung. The news raised full alert in State, Defense and the White House. Coordinating the situation was Under Secretary George Ball Balls first action was to get Secretary of Defense, Robert McNamara to make preparations for using the 7th fleet, who redirected "a formidable array" of warships to Indonesia. "[T]his may be the first step toward a Communist take-over," Ball told McNamara, on the telephone, "[...] the people we have depended on in the Army are under house arrest or have been shot--we do not know."5 McNamara asked Ball "if he were only thinking of evacuation and not any other plans," implying a possible military action, and Ball replied that "he would not know this until the situation clarified." 6

After talking to McNamara, Ball called Rusk, saying that "he felt it may be a PKI operation [...] We have dusted off our contingency plans [...] since it is a situation that if it becomes a coup we would be in for some difficulty."7 No news had arrived from the outer islands, but "we have indication from the military units they were not in on it and didn’t know anything about it," Ball said. 8 By 10.35, Ball confessed to McGeorge Bundy that "he didn’t have a good feeling about the Indonesian situation. It smells like a PKI operation." 9 Bundy replied that the most recent telegrams indicated that the army had retaken the radio station, raising hopes. An hour later, Ball had arranged a consensus between the Far East Office and the INR to "support denial of alleged CIA involvement in Indonesia," and was reminded by McCloskey that "after Singapore thing [...] either Ball or Secretary would check personally with CIA in future." 10 Ball then called CIA director Helms for confirmation that the US indeed was not involved. 11

By 15:15, information of a counter-coup had reached Washington, who now believed that Nasution was in charge, "the coup situation is still as muddy as it could be. There is a counter coup in which Nasution is playing a leading role which would mean bringing back Sukarno in some way," Ball told Rusk, adding that his previous suspicion that "this other coup was a leftist group has been borne out," hence "we might be in position of welcoming a counter-coup."12

To Senator Fulbright, Ball told at 15:45 that Nasution had seemed to have "taken back Djakarta radio station and rescued Sukarno."13 but his control over the situation remained unknown. It was very hard to "know just what the situation is," Ball continued, but he had a "feeling that if Nasution takes over he may keep going and clean up PKI--this is the most optimistic expectation, but it is unclear at the moment." 14 Ball agreed to Fulbright that Nasution was the US’ best bet, although not dependable. They both agreed that "they could not depend on any Indonesians," finally concluding that sending Ellsworth Bunker "might be a means by which we could ascertain who is worth a damn down there." 15

The next day, reports ticked in which indicated that the Indonesian army now was "under General Sukarto [sic]," and that the situation seemed to be getting under army control.16 However, the administration did not trust the news, and "a formidable array" of warships continued its way to Indonesia. The next two days, Rusk, Ball, William Bundy and McNamara debated heatedly on how close the warships would go to the islands, the alternatives ranging from 200 to 400 miles. The President determined the 8th degree. The danger was that the ships would be spotted by stray fishermen on one side, on the other side the ships had to stay close enough to move in to rescue American citizens should the situation demand it. 17

In the six following months a major purge of communists and alleged communists in Indonesia wiped out the PKI and all major opposition to the army. The murders were performed with army encouragement, but most often not by the army itself. The number of people who died are uncertain, the estimates vary from 78.000 to about one million. Many scholars believe the number to be around 4–500.000.18 Official US reaction to the purges was mainly one of silence, although one in the Embassy correspondence can trace both horror over the killings as well as satisfaction over the army’s increasing grip over Indonesia.

A number of theories on the events of the Gestapu affair itself exists, and the interpretation has spawned an extensive discourse with very opposing viewpoints of actual events, which I will refrain from summarizing and commenting. Those still alive who are able to shed most light on the events, Subandrio and Suharto, remain silent.

The most widely accepted interpretation, although far from canonical, is now that Suharto, who had built up a separate power base within the army for some time behind the scenes, used the opportunity the coup presented, rather than created it, and that he did so mostly by his own means and ability, not with any significant foreign support.19 Statements from the recently released Colonel Latief, reportedly confirm that Suharto was warned one day before the coup, and hence had pre-knowledge of the events. It is likely that Suharto was able to extract some support from foreign sources, but I will not speculate in details here. It is almost certain that he was neither a US crony or that the White House or State Department sought to build him up. The White House and State did not know him, did not trust him and feared he was too staunch a nationalist too be cooperative. In the first US assessments, Suharto was deemed likely to become a very independent-minded leader, and although not communist, he would be too anti-imperialistic and nationalistic to be regarded as "friendly" or trustworthy in policies. It took the US nearly two years to accept that Suharto indeed would seek towards the West for economic and military alignment. However, speculations remain on possible connections between Suharto and CIA.

The Possibility of US Subversion

The overthrow of Sukarno contained from Untung’s first radio declaration implications of CIA and US involvement, implications which have led to considerable academic and political debate. To what exact degree CIA or private American actors were involved, remains as of yet unknown, and this discussion goes beyond the discussion here. However, the question of White House and State planning or knowledge of a coup holds some interest. H.W. Brands argues that the US was not involved in the coup, for three reasons: Following the Bay of Pigs incident, Kennedy had "changed the ground rules governing CIA operations," limiting it actions and keeping the "on a far shorter leash [...]" through devices such as the giving the ambassadors control over local CIA operations through the Country Team-institution.20 Johnson had continued this policy. Secondly, during "the crucial summer of 1965," CIA was under the direction of the retired admiral William F Raborn, "a man with little background and less future as a spymaster [...] and who lacked the experience, confidence and connections" to take such initiatives. 21 Finally, the CIA by September 30 "was as unenlightened as everyone else" on Suharto and his intentions. Brands makes note that the US and CIA did try, to alter events, they "did their damnest," but were basically unable to influence the course of events. 22

Brand’s argument that Washington were unaware of the coup plans are supported by new evidence, such as Ball’s telephone conversations. The political administration, including the Secretary of State, Secretary of Defense and Under Secretary of State, and National Security Advisor can with some certainty be said not to have known of the coup before it happened, nor were they certain who instigated the coup or how it evolved during the first critical days. It remains to be established directly that the President himself and the CIA director was unaware of events, and it is interesting that Under Secretary Ball made a telephone call specifically to the CIA director in order to make sure that the CIA was not involved before publicly denouncing US involvement. However, the circumstantial evidence suggests that the president and the CIA director knew nothing more than Rusk, Ball and McNamara did.

Besides not being aware of the coup, it seems likely that the administration was initially unaware of Suharto’s central role. The administration first believed that Nasution was heading the counter-coup. First on October 2, the name Suharto enters the picture—and even then, the name is pronounced erroneously. Suharto seemed to be a largely unknown character in Washington. Given the central positions of Suharto—he was the previous commander of the West Irian campaign, and current deputy commander of Konfrontasi besides commander of the army Strategic Reserve in Djakarta—it is however likely that Suharto was well known in the lower echelons of the administration, the embassy, the CIA and the US MILTAG in Djakarta. However, Suharto’s very position was so closely connected to Konfrontasi, and previously to the West Irian campaign, that it is likely that the general American skepticism to the most nationalist elements of the Indonesian army also applied to Suharto. Subsequent documents suggests that Suharto was regarded as a more extreme nationalist than Nasution by the US, and hence even more unreliable in important matters like Konfrontasi and stabilization. On the other side, there are evidence that suggest that Suharto tried to signal willingness to calm Konfrontasi even before the events of 30. September. Another point worth noticing, is that the US through a long period of time made interviews, research and assessments in order to plot the most likely successors to Sukarno. In these files, the name Suharto is not mentioned once, while three or four other generals, including Nasution and Yani do occur repeatedly.

However, all American personnel were not mere bystanders to events. What seems to be fairly established, is that one embassy officer, Robert J. Martens, did try to forward PKI lists over PKI members and light communication equipment to Suharto, and that this was done against State Department instructions, most likely also without approval from his closer superiors. It is unlikely that Suharto actually needed these lists, and given the unstable situation, public knowledge of any US support to Suharto at the time would was the very thing both the US and probably Suharto sought to avoid, since such knowledge could tip the balance against Suharto.

A brief episode on October 13 illustrates the US attitude to such deliveries. An AP-story then made Rusk send a brisk telegram to Green, asking for Green’s comments on a supposed Suharto request to the US embassy for communications equipment. Green denied that any such request had been made, and assumed that none had been made to the department.23

Given the circumstances and evidence, four likely scenarios can be singled out: That the lists and equipment actually were forwarded by Martens or others to Suharto through intermediaries, that the deliveries were made to anti-Communist groups independent of Suharto or unbeknownst to Suharto, that the request for deliveries and lists were set up by left-wing groups to discredit Suharto, or that the deliveries did not take place at all. Of these alternatives, the last one seems least credible, the other three I will refrain from evaluating further.

The American-trained "bulwark against communism," the Mobrig, remained conspicuously inactive during the coup and subsequent pogroms. The inactivity suggests two interpretations regarding US policy. The Mobrig was, as far it is possible to be certain, by September 1965 the most pro-American armed element in Indonesia, and possibly the service which by the time had most regular contacts with the US. Also, Mobrig was a significant power group, and had most likely been able to tip the balance in either direction if they had gone to determined intervention. Their inactivity hence can either be interpreted as a reflection of US non-interventionist desires, without going into further speculations on US inclinations here. Mobrig’s inaction can also be interpreted as a US failure in counterinsurgency training and indoctrination programs, does, based on the assumption that the US wanted the Mobrig to intervene in favor of a US candidate like Nasution. It remains open which interpretation is the more probable, although it seems more consistent with other US actions that the US wished to remain passive and aloof, and signaled no preference to the Mobrig as long as the communists seemed to be in retreat. Also, one may note the seemingly paradox of Mobrig’s dual loyalty: The Americans deemed Mobrig to be loyal to Sukarno, as well as to Western values.

CIA Activity in Indonesia

Leaving the actual events and course of events surrounding the Gestapu-affair itself aside, a brief background of the relationship between CIA, PKI, the Indonesian army and the US policy makers in Washington may shed some light on the situation. Notably, we will see how PKI vigilance and propaganda limited CIA-activity and how the US related to plans for overthrowing Sukarno.

Rumors of CIA-activities and plots were an intrinsic and central part of the leftwing propaganda efforts in Indonesia during 1964 and 65.24 "Life would hardly be complete in Djakarta without accusation of new American subversive plot in each day’s newspapers" Green commented dryly to accusations of CIA involvement in a 1965 Papuan rebellion. 25 Likewise, American denial or stonewalling was routine and without exception.

The first question that arises was whether the US actually wanted to overthrow Sukarno. There were several attempts on Sukarno’s life during the early sixties, one even with the Ambassador Jones present.26 Most of these were attributed to the various guerilla groups and rebels, most often the islamists Darûl Islam. Some of them were also attributed to CIA, notably by Sukarno himself. Sukarno had since the 1958 rebellion held the view that CIA held a grudge against him personally, and probably with some right. 27 Sukarno warned Jones, Bunker and Kennedy against the renegades of CIA, stating that they were out of control and working against the US government, and from 1964 Sukarno often referred to the book The Invisible Government by David Wise and Thomas B. Ross. Kennedy, Bunker and Jones all assured Sukarno repeatedly that the CIA were neither a rogue agency nor a government within the government. In spring 1965, Jones arranged a private dinner with himself, Sukarno and the local CIA station chief Hugh Tovar , in order to dispel accusations that Mopix-agent William Palmer was head of the CIA station in Djakarta. 28ë

There are no signs that the administration actually sought to remove Sukarno. "We wouldn’t take the steps necessary to unseat Sukarno [...]," Komer wrote to Mac Bundy29 in January 1964, and this basic precondition remained in the White House and Washington. The subject were seldom discussed openly, but the tacit assumption had from the failure of the 1958 regional rebellion been that the risk was too high for discovery of US involvement, and that Sukarno was too popular in Indonesia—all moral, geo-political or precedence-related considerations aside.

The frequent accusations of CIA moves and plots against Sukarno added to the conclusion: Actual proof of such plots would legitimize PKI accusations and cause public outrage. Furthermore, it was likely to make any contact with the Indonesian army impossible, perhaps alienate the army wholly, besides branding the US as hostile in the public. A US action against Sukarno without army participation would disrupt the army’s preparations for taking action against PKI. Hence, a unilateral US action against Sukarno was a gamble which risked the policy the US had built up through several year. Given the left-wing’s surveillance and willingness to publish even minor or insignificant actions by civilian Americans, and the consequences of a revelation, it is unlikely that the US considered the benefits from participation in any significant covert effort made over a period of time, such as long-term co-planning with the army, worth the risk.. Furthermore, the army had at several occasions made it clear to the US that they did not intend to act against Sukarno, and by September 1965, the army was most likely to see the risks attached to US involvement in any plots against Sukarno as far higher than any benefits.

The uncertainty of events following Sukarno’s demise contributed to the gamble implicit in any attempt to unseat Sukarno. The US expected a major showdown between the army and the PKI. Although the likely victor, in US eyes, still would be the army, the army had been considerably weakened versus PKI during the last five years, making the result more uncertain. Furthermore, an army takeover would probably not lead to significantly improved relations with the US, given the army’s Soviet-reliance and conduct under Konfrontasi. The major positive effect would be to avoid a PKI-takeover. Hence, the main consideration for the US in a conflict over change of regime was whether the PKI would be overcome or not, which again primarily depended on army strength and preparedness. Hence, the US relied on the army’s evaluation of the timing of their maneuvers against PKI, and the army had clearly signaled that they would move only after Sukarno stepped down or died.

On the other side, the US considered seriously acting against PKI and Sukarno, and the US choice not to act was ultimately a tactical, not a moral decision. The US was also at times informed of imminent assassination plots against Sukarno, and refrained from warnings or interference..In October 1963, in the immediate wake after an escalation of Konfrontasi and the breakdown of the stabilization plan, rumors arose in Djakarta of an imminent CIA assassination plot on Sukarno. Simultaneously, Washington received intelligence that an attempt for Sukarno’s life were imminent. Washington received the intelligence expressing little beyond some skepticism towards the likelihood of success. Although the intelligence report did not reveal the source of information, the White House estimated that the Darûl Islam rebels were the assailants. The minor incident in October also suggested how rumors in Djakarta, PKI accusation and US intelligence coincided.

In January 1965, US deliberations of taking decisive action against Sukarno coincided with widespread Djakarta rumors. Sukarno had withdrawn from the UN on December 31, 1964 and subsequently announced an alternative United Nations for the Nefo-countries, CONEFO, in alliance with Beijing. The announcement almost led to another major US policy-reconsideration, but halted before reaching Rusk and Johnson. Behind the reconsideration was a January 5 CIA report of a possible coup which would take place before January 10, retaining Sukarno as honorary president but transferring real power to Chaerul Saleh.30 Ambassador to Malaysia, James Bell suggested on January 9 that the US should stimulate the army to act by informing the army of their support and guarantee British truce in the event of a military takeover. 31 While McGeorge Bundy expressed interest in Bell’s proposal, Jones and the majority of the Washington policy group rejected it for tactical reasons, probably with CIA acquiescence. 32

On January 21 intelligence reports with "excellent sources" cited an army general confiding that Indonesian army were developing specific contingency plans for taking over Government when Sukarno stepped down or died.33 However, the report also stated that within 30–60 days, the army would move against Sukarno, "depending upon events the next few weeks". 34 The PKI were reported to build up a paramilitary force with Beijing’s help, and the army would intervene if not able to control the build-up of a communist "fifth force". An eventual coup would be directed against PKI, and would "leave Sukarno’s leadership intact." 35 The embassy commented dryly to the report as a "kind which has in [the] past frequently appeared only to prove mirage." Yet, since there were increasing sign of army discontent, and "rumors of this kind are on [the] increase," the report was more worth paying attention than usual. 36

In the Djakarta press, the accusations of a US plot against Sukarno or PKI was unusually frequent throughout January, and the phrase "General’s Council" first appeared in the US reports of PKI propaganda. The General’s Council was reported to be a group of army generals working towards taking over government, and the council became a repeated subject of accusations and denial, reaching wide dissemination by summer 1965. In declassified US documents there are no signs suggesting US awareness of the existence of a body called the General’s Council. However, the US was aware of regular meetings between various civilian and army right-wing elements. The meetings were at times held in Hong Kong, in order to keep the meetings hidden. However, the US expressed surprise over the meetings held in Hong Kong, since the participants should know that it was virtually impossible to keep such meetings secret.37 As late as in 1968, a CIA-report speculated that the "General’s Council" was a PKI distortion referring to General Yani’s 5-member "brain trust" of personal advisors. 38

The strongest indication of any active US subversion can be found in the report of a conversation on February 10 between the US Army attaché in Djakarta and source. The source first told that Indonesian army saw the time premature to take any action in the power struggle, and then "He went on to say that in his opinion the United States could do a lot to help if it would. [5–6 lines deleted] He seemed quite pleased."39 The deletions indicates that the army attaché ensured the source that some kind of US support, contingency plan or plot existed. Possible alternatives for the content of the deletions include general assurances of US concern, assurances of US intervention in case of a PKI takeover, an assurance of the real strength of the Indonesian army, or assurances of a US-supported plan to ensure a non-communist takeover, or just a reassurance of US support if an anticommunist takeover succeeded. On one side, it seems highly unlikely that the attaché would tell reveal any covert plans to an Indonesian source and report it home. Furthermore, the signs of US general non-interventionist policy at the time and lack of supporting reports makes it unlikely that any US plans for covert action existed. On the other side, the deletion itself on a recently declassified document suggests that the assurance either referred to CIA actions, another foreign power, or a current high-level official in Indonesia.

A fourth episode raised some international attention in the first days of July 1965. While visiting Cairo, Subandrio disclosed a letter from the British Djakarta ambassador Gilchrist to the British Foreign Office, in which a joint US-UK plan for military intervention in Indonesia was referred to.40 By July 10, the embassy in Cairo had been able to get a photographic copy of the letter. The embassy concluded that it was a fake, and the "Gilchrist-letter" was subsequently referred to as a forgery in the administration. A discussion on who was behind the forgery followed, and the US settled on a Subandrio-controlled intelligence agency. A later testimony claimed that Czech intelligence produced the letter on Indonesian assignment. 41 However, the letter was widely used both then and later as the final proof of US involvement in plots against Indonesia.

What is in common with these four events is that they had minor political influence per se, but that they illustrate the general tendencies in US policy towards Indonesia. They are all either dependent or strongly influenced by the broad PKI cultural campaign against the West. They indicate how initiatives arose not in Washington, but in Djakarta, and that initiatives only secondarily was treated in Washington, and then either summarily or seriously. The initiatives could be negative and stemming from the left-wing press or PKI. At times, they were also poWhat is in common with these four events is that they had minor political influence per se, but that they illustrate the general tendencies in US policy towards Indonesia. They are all either dependent or strongly influenced by the broad PKI cultural campaign against the West. They indicate how initiatives arose not in Washington, but in Djakarta, and that initiatives only secondarily was treated in Washington, and then either summarily or seriously. The initiatives could be negative and stemming from the left-wing press or PKI. At times, they were also positive initiatives stemming from the army, but then the PKI seemed to have a vague awareness of their existence. The episodes illustrate that the US were not strangers to the use of physical force and the display of military strength, but that for tactical reasons, the US primarily chose to refrain from doing so. Finally, they are symptomatic for how the PKI cultural campaign against the Oldefos rendered US association a liability to the army, and hence alienated the US from its local allies in the army, and forced the US to a defend passive policy of retracting while keeping as much contact as possible with army.

 

Concluding Arguments

Previous historiography has, to the degree it exists, relied on general assumptions on the conflict lines and elements of US policy. These assumptions and observations, per se, are generally in correspondence with empirical findings. However, they are often treated out of context, and hence misinterpreted. US actions and policies were ultimately defined by a consciously planned and consistent policy. This policy had its roots the situation the Kennedy administration inherited from Eisenhower’s failed policies. The administration used the period from January 1961 to August 1962 to remove the most critical remnants of Eisenhower’s policy, notably the West Irian issue and the Pope case. The period was also dominated by internal disagreement, but during the process the foundation for a the administration’s future policy was laid. From fall 1962, the US maintained a unified policy strategy towards Indonesia. The US policy had two main thrusts: An offensive strategy and a defensive. The offensive strategy consisted of an attempt to turn Sukarno’s policies through economic aid, which in turn worked through two approaches: A personal approach of top-level contact, and a systemic approach which worked to alter the Indonesian economic system. The defensive strategy focused on the army and intended to make sure the anti-Communists would prevail in an inevitable upcoming confrontation with PKI, and remain pro-Western or neutral until the confrontation occurred. The approach here was mainly personal, and relied on building up a professional-level contact network. Both the offensive and defensive efforts relied on carefully targeted aid programs.

During fall 1963 and the winter 1964, the offensive strategy failed. The failure had three prominent causes: American disagreement with the British over how to relate to Sukarno’s confrontation, hostility to Sukarno in the Congress and US press, and the deaths of Kennedy and Djuanda. The US subsequently fell back on their defensive strategy, which also could be interpreted as a shift to harder line. However, the US defensive program was slowly disseminated and crippled by outside forces, leading to a gradual US withdrawal from Indonesia. Leading these outside forces were the PKI campaign against US influence in Indonesia. This campaign on one side made US accommodation and presence in Indonesia increasingly difficult to maintain in the face of US domestic criticism and moral outrage, eventually leading to that the US assumed a low posture. The stirred up anti-American sentiments also forced the Indonesian army to limit their contacts with Americans, by making American support into a liability rather than an asset. Contributing to dissolving the US attempts were the increasing importance of Vietnam to the administration, combined with British concerns, and pressure from Congress and the US press. Hence, the US defensive strategy was all but defunct by September 1965, and the US presence reduced to the minimum skeleton staff which was required to uphold reporting and maintain those informal contacts that still remained under the defensive plan.

Kahin and Kahin portrays in Subversion As Foreign Policy the image of the tripartite power balance as the central defining element of Indonesian between 1958 and 1965, which hence also defines US policy towards Indonesia.42 The tripartite power balance was largely a result of the US intervention in 1958. According the Kahin and Kahin’s model, the US after 1958 had to operate inside that triangle, even if the US before 1958 had been hostile to all three parties. Inside the triangle, there was an increasing polarization between PKI and the army. US support to the army contributed to the polarization, and hence promoted an upcoming conflict. Also, the US support to the army, argues Kahin and Kahin, forced Sukarno to increase the PKI’s role to counter army influence. In Kahin and Kahin’s model, Nasution consciously lead the army’s protracted fight for power, which the US unwittingly accelerates in 1958, and subsequently continues to support. Sukarno and PKI are more or less on the defensive, a defense that gets increasingly tense and aggressive as the growing power of the army threatens to tip the scales. In this context, US help to the Indonesian army actually became elemental in driving Sukarno leftwards, and helped the PKI into their. In other words, one part of the triangle became so strong that the other two were forced together.

The Kahin model focuses largely on the impact of US policy in Indonesia, rather than the actual conduct of US policy or processes behind it. As we have seen, the triangular model of the Kahins corresponds with the American conception of the situation in Indonesia. When Kennedy assumes presidency in 1961, he was immediately faced with an ominous and in many ways deadlocked situation, where the US saw no other options than choosing one of the three parties in the triangular power system, like Kahin and Kahin suggests. At the time, neither of the three power centers in Djakarta were considered friends or allies in Washington, although a budding relationship with the army existed and Sukarno had made some minor overtures to Kennedy.

The US could in 1961 still have chosen to work to build up Sukarno on the army and PKI’s behalf. Although the US did not believe Sukarno could be turned into an ally, unlike the army, the US did try to work with Sukarno. However, the US effort did not try to strengthen Sukarno, it tried to strengthen the army and other anti-Communist elements. Building up Sukarno was an option that was never discussed seriously, and would probably have been to unpopular domestically for the administration to defend. The perception of Sukarno as unreliable and a potential leftist, as well as the widespread personal resentments against Sukarno in Washington all made a close cooperation with Sukarno difficult for the administration.

The US assessed the combined negative potential of the developing West Irian crisis and a leftist turn in Indonesia policy to be a force majeur, which made some kind of political action necessary. The US economic interests in Indonesia contributed to the American assessment, as did Indonesia’s geographic placement as a strategic hub both in trade patterns and militarily.

Hence, Kahin and Kahin’s claim that the administration was more or less obliged to work with Nasution and the Indonesian army to a wide extent holds. The administration perceived that the only alternative was to give up Indonesia, and by doing so jeopardize their security perimeter in the Pacific. However, the US did not work with Nasution and the army alone. They also worked with Sukarno, and the US counterinsurgency efforts were focused on building up the National Police’s Mobile Brigade, a force which at the time had an ambivalent relationship to the army. Furthermore, the US, from a long-term perspective, also worked to build up civilian pro-West forces.

Kahin and Kahin argues that US support to the Indonesian army actually worked to strengthen the PKI. Although this work has not treated this possible consequence directly, the causal connection is consistent with this works findings and the model may very well be correct. The US support to the army was party in increasing the dichotomy and expanding the conflict in the Indonesia. The US also worked out from the basic assumption that a conflict would occur, and planned their policy according to this conflict. It was also a fundamental part of US post-1962 strategy to ensure that the army had the necessary resolve in the expected conflict, and hence the US played a conscious part in crystallizing and fortifying the conflict.

Paul Gardner’s book, Shared Hopes, Separate Fears, has a quite different perspective than Kahin and Kahin’s work. Kahin and Kahin concentrates on the overall tripartite system and the US role inside this system, and how the Guided Democracy period was the crucial transitional phase in the army’s slow ascendance to Power. Gardner portrays the interaction in Djakarta between the US and Indonesian actors. In Gardner’s work, the PKI and Sukarno are the aggressors which the army defends itself against. The US role is largely portrayed through how US officials relate to actions made by the Indonesians. Hence, Gardner’s views of US policy mostly is found in singular statements or through examinations of his tacit assumptions. However, Gardner presents a rich selection of events which illuminate US policy.

Gardner states that the West Irian issue as well as the Malaysian issue was dominated by internal struggles inside the administration, with the Europeanists and State Department on one side and the NSC aides on the other side. Gardner gives no further explicit treatment of the causes or effects of this internal conflict. This work has argued that the conflict that Gardner sketches indeed at a point was determining for US policy. In 1961, the conflict between State Department and the White House aides impeded US efforts to solve the West Irian crisis. Two factors contributed to this: That the representatives of the two views led different policies that undermined each other, for instance did Rusk make commitments to the Netherlands which interfered with the White House-originated strategy for persuading Sukarno into negotiations. In the 16th UN session, the divided strategy led to simultaneous alienation of both the Netherlands and Indonesia, hence leading to a disastrous US effort to solve the crisis. The failed US effort in the UN led to a policy revision in State.

Gardner also states that the US treatment of the Malaysia conflict was shaped by the split between the NSC staff and State. According to this argument, Kennedy’s 1962 decision to settle West Irian in line with the Asianist approach did not remove the split between the Europeanists and the Asianist in the Administration. When the Malaysian issue arose, the direct question of choosing between a European ally and the Indonesians reopened the internal conflict between the Asianists and Europeanists.

This work has argued that there never was any significant disagreement in Washington over whether the US ultimately would support the British in the Malaysia dispute or not. The American commitment to the British in Malaysia was unquestioned and regarded as bound by treaty. However, there were debates over the importance of the Malaysia dispute to US policy, and there were wide discrepancies in the interpretations Konfrontasi. Furthermore, the US actively sought to avoid a situation where they would have to intervene on the British side. Hence, the choice of tactics according to different interpretations of Konfrontasi had serious consequences for the results of US policy. The most significant disagreement over interpretation of Konfrontasi was whether the conflict could be kept on harmless level through negotiations, tacit leverages and diplomatic means, or the conflict had to be contained through firm action.

Gardner describes some of the same differences in interpretation, but from another angle. Gardner argues that that Jones were alone in his assessment of Sukarno and Konfrontasi and the policy according to the interpretation: That the US should through personal contacts and an open door policy try to influence Sukarno to moderate his polices. The administration and the embassy, Gardner continues, was working to establish a harder line against Sukarno.43 Gardner hence also implicitly treats the debate over how to handle the Malaysia conflict as the most important line of demarcation in US policy making versus Indonesia at the time.

Gardner’s basic observation seems to be correct: There was disagreement over Sukarno’s person and what policy the interpretations led to. Gardner’s observation furthermore corresponds with conventional wisdom and other scholarly works. For instance do Kahin and Kahin write that Washington overruled Jones’s accommodationist line in the Malaysia issue. Kahin and Kahin argue that behind Washington’s preference to Great Britain over Indonesia in Konfrontasi, there was an American concern over the cost of Konfrontasi to the British. Especially did Konfrontasi influence the British involvement in West Germany. Hence, the European concern overrode the Asian accommodationist concern

It seems likely that Kahin and Kahin are right when assessing that the US was concerned over British spending on Konfrontasi, although no documents used in this work spells out such a concern in direct connection with US approach to Konfrontasi. The reason for this is most likely that the US never really questioned their commitment to the British.

The arguments of Gardner and the Kahins presuppose that the main division in US policy was between the accommodationist line and the hard line. According to this concept, the Europeanists were the hard-liners, while the Asianists and Jonesians sought to accommodate Sukarno on behalf of European interests. This work has argued that such a dichotomy, although existing, was only a subordinate issue in US policy.

The immediate reason suggesting that the hard line-accommodationist dichotomy was of less practical importance, is that US policy towards Indonesia after January 1962 was under the undisputed leadership of a core group of Asianists. With Harriman and later Hilsman as Assistant Secretaries of State for Far Eastern Affairs, State were firmly placed under Asianist control. The NSC staff remained Asianists, and until May 1965, Jones remained in Djakarta.

On the other side, the position of the Asianists weakened after Kennedy’s death. This weakening furthermore coincided with an outward change in emphasis of US policy. The US halted most of their aid programs, supported Malaysia in public, posed an open ultimatum to Sukarno, and finally replaced Ambassador Jones, the most known accommodationist.

Yet, the basic US policy remained unchanged, despite any decrease in the Jonesians’ influence, and despite the open displays of a harder line. A closer look on US policy towards Indonesia from 1962 to 1965, reveals that the US adhered closely to a policy plan laid out in 1962, the "Action Plan".

The action plan had been formed in the wake of the successful West Irian negotiations, so that the US could utilize the potential good will that existed in Indonesia after the West Irian. The plan also had background in the administration’s imminent need to form a new, consistent, unified American effort to save Indonesia from Communism, which would replace the failed Eisenhower line and coordinate the already existing and emerging US policies.

The plan had two main parts: One offensive thrust, focused on economic aid. The offensive thrust’s objective was to turn Sukarno’s attention away from external confrontation and towards economic development, while the US at the same time would reform the Indonesian economic system in Western direction. The offensive effort relied on a tacit carrot-and-stick strategy towards Sukarno. Hence, the impression of accommodation was forged, while the US in reality repeatedly utilized a hard line against Sukarno in private. The administration’s rationale was that although Sukarno was a power politician, he was also vain, and would not respond well to open ultimatums. Hence, by 1964 both Ambassador Jones, President Kennedy, Robert Kennedy, Wilson Wyatt and Ellsworth Bunker at times had used limited ultimatums on Sukarno, while displaying a friendly image in public.

The defensive plan was an effort to build a contact network with future anticommunist leaders in Indonesia, primarily in the Indonesian army and the Mobrig, but also through educational programs. The objective was on one side to ensure that the anti-Communists were confident on US support, and hence would have the necessary resolve when the inevitable showdown with PKI took place, a showdown the Kahins precisely argues was inherent in the tripolar power balance. A secondary objective was to ensure that the same future leaders remained or became friendly to the West. Vital in the defensive plan was token aid to the Indonesian army and building institutions for contact between Americans and Indonesians. Separate from the Action Plan, but with similar objectives, the second largest USIA program in Asia tried to build a friendly and progressive image of the US among Indonesians.

Raising the level of abstraction, the US intended to alter Indonesia’s alignment and polices through three approaches: One systemic approach, and two personal approaches on different levels. The systemic approach was part of the offensive effort, and involved reforming Indonesian economy after Western theories of development and economic growth, with the combined intent of Westernizing Indonesian policy and increase the standard of living among Indonesians. The top-level personal approach consisted of a small network of consciously wrought relationships, centered around the personal rapport built between Kennedy and Sukarno. The network included Ambassador Jones, Wilson Wyatt, Robert Kennedy and Ellsworth Bunker. This personal approach was also offensive, and was vital both in forging and maintaining the systemic part of the offensive approach. The defensive US strategy relied on the other set of personal networks, which were professional-level, broad networks of personal relationships between Americans and Indonesians, primarily within the armed forces or within education and research.

Paul Gardner’s treatment of the US Action plan and policy is summarily. On the systemic level, Gardner places the initiative for the Indonesian economic stabilization plan with First Minister Djuanda. Gardner states that "the revolutionary militancy of Sukarno and Subandrio was offset to some degree by [...] Juanda’s efforts to halt economic deterioration," then describing the stabilization plan, and how Rusk supported Djuanda’s plan afterwards.44 The plan was also attacked by PKI who "claimed [the stabilization measures] were inspired by Westerners." 45

There is little doubt on Djuanda’s importance in the stabilization efforts during 1963. However, it is also beyond doubt that the stabilization plan emerged from Washington, was drafted by the Humphrey team, henceforth examined by an IMF team, then finally implemented and adjusted by Djuanda under the promise of US support. Gardner sees the stabilization effort as secondary to the Malaysia issue: Stabilization temporarily offset Konfrontasi. However, in the administration in 1963, the interpretation was the other way around: It was Konfrontasi that threatened stabilization, and hence the systemic part of the US offensive effort.

Gardner does on the other side admit the importance of the personal contact networks for US-Indonesian relations, focussing particularly on the formation of the academic networks, and to some degree on other personal relationships, for instance the one established between General Maxwell Taylor and General Nasution through the military contact programs.46 Gardner’s prime focus is how these networks became important in the years after 1965, and that they proved resilient to the turmoil of US-Indonesian official relations during 1964 and 1965. 47

However, Gardner fails to connect the forging of personal relations to any conscious US policy. We have seen that the personal contacts were crucial elements in both the offensive and defensive US strategy, both on the professional and top levels. Commenting the Sukarno-Jones relationship, Gardner concludes without further argument that Jones’ personal access to Sukarno "did not transfer into influence," largely dismissing the Jones-line as counterproductive.48

When seeing Jones’ access to Sukarno in light of the dual US strategy, two important political consequences emerge. The most important was that Jones was vital in keeping alive the feeling of a close relationship between Kennedy and Sukarno, and maintaining the presidential relation as a constant factor in US-Indonesian relations. The Sukarno-Jones relationship at many occasions functioned as a proxy relationship with Kennedy—both officially, as the ambassador was the Presidents’ permanent and personal envoy, but also personally since Jones, in Sukarno’s eyes, was inside the narrow personal circle around Kennedy.

The contact also had direct consequences, both when being used as an explicit proxy and when Jones acted for himself. In Washington’s evaluation, Kennedy’s use of letters combined with Jones’ personal comments and delivery of the same letters postponed at times the escalation of Konfrontasi, they postponed the escalation of West Irian, and they postponed the break of diplomatic relations between the British and Indonesia. Also, Jones were able to convince Sukarno into entering the 1963 oil negotiations through a Kennedy letter, and he was without presidential activity able to open the deadlocked Konfrontasi-negotiations in June 1964. At several other occasions, he were able to calm Sukarno’s outbursts against the US. All these postponements contributed to extend the life span and impact of the US contact programs. Also, these efforts relied to a high degree on the personal rapport consciously built between Sukarno and Jones.

However, the success of Jones’ relationship also relied on the rapport built between Kennedy and Sukarno, and hence their impact lessened after November 1963. Other factors, like Jones’ disillusion and exhaustion and the more anti-American environment contributed to this development. Gardner and the Kahins both note the administration increasingly realized that Jones’ close relation to Sukarno were becoming less useful.49

Gardner also interprets the administration’s weakening belief in the utility of the Sukarno-Jones relationship as a sign of a harder policy line from the US. Seen in the light of the dual US policy towards Indonesia, this shift towards a harder line, which was outwardly perceived as a change of US policy, in reality reflected something else: That the accommodationist surface and offensive strategy of US policy had been forced out of function, and that the US eventually fell back on its defensive strategy.

The tacit US carrot-and-stick tactic became defunct in September 1963. The US had then spent all their negative leverage with Sukarno trying to persuade him into entering negotiations on Konfrontasi. However, after each new, seemingly successful use of the tacit and limited ultimatums, a British or Malay display of firmness had either caused or provided an excuse for escalation of Konfrontasi, requiring a new and stronger ultimatum from the US to revive negotiations. At the same time, pressure from the Congress and the US press made promises of more aid to Sukarno impossible, hence removing the US positive leverage. This process had by fall 1963 rendered the US systemic approach defunct.

However, the Americans tried to use the top-level personal approach to revive the process, as they had done previously with success at several points. Due to the seriousness of the situation, Washington decided to use the core relationship in this strategy directly, and planned for a Kennedy-Sukarno meeting. However, Kennedy died. In Indonesia, First Minister Djuanda died the same month, which meant that two most central persons in the administration’s hopes for reviving the systemic approach were lost to the administration. A last attempt to revive the top-level personal approach was tested by sending Robert Kennedy to Djakarta, but Robert Kennedy was not able to revive the offensive effort, nor halt the escalation of Konfrontasi permanently. The US continued to use this personal approach afterwards, particularly through Jones and the Bunker mission, but after Kennedy’s death, the offensive strategy had lost its utility. Gardner only summarily comments the downfall of the US offensive strategy by saying that Johnson continued Kennedy’s policy, but that the rapport Kennedy had with Sukarno was lost.50 Also, Gardner concludes that shortly after Robert Kennedy’s last attempt, the prospects for US mediation in Konfrontasi ended with Sukarno’s denouncement of American aid. 51

With the offensive strategy defunct, the administration could by spring 1964 use open ultimatums without endangering this part of their dual strategy. Simultaneously, the outside pressure on the administration to display firmness were starting to influence the new president, and by February 1964 it threatened to halt the vital aid part of the defensive strategy. To defuse the outside pressure, and to postpone demands for cuts in the defensive program, the administration hence allowed more visible displays of a hard line towards Sukarno. Yet, the primary US objective throughout 1964 and 1965 remained to save their existing policy, not to change it. The two closely connected main objectives for the US actions in Indonesia remained to avoid open confrontation with Indonesia, and to preserve the existing contact networks for as long time as possible.

Hence, the US shift of emphasis to a harder line did not reflect a change in US policy. Rather it reflected the gradual US retraction to its planned fallback positions. The tacit parts of US policy became more visible. The "carrot-and-stick" had been present from 1962. It was only when the policy of carrot-and.-stick was exhausted that the US publicly announced such a policy, and then in order to still outside pressure.

The US harder line contributed to the exhaustion of the US defensive strategy. The American contact networks were inhibited and slowly reduced during 1964 and 1965. Two factors were vital for the US retraction: Konfrontasi and the PKI campaigns against American influence in Indonesia. Although the US harder line was responsible for neither, it helped to facilitate the PKI campaign by making the image of the US as an enemy more easily argued in Indonesia.

The impact of Konfrontasi on US strategy in 1964–65 was threefold. On one side, Konfrontasi contributed to a general anti-American climate in Djakarta, and the US increasingly viewed Konfrontasi as a part of the broad Indonesian confrontation against Western influence, rather than as separate issue. Furthermore, Konfrontasi made aid to Indonesia difficult to maintain. The escalation of Konfrontasi in August-September 1964, forced the administration to cancel much of the aid programs it relied on in its contact programs—continuing the full programs would have caused too much criticism from the Congress and would have endangered the relationship with the British. The British-American working agreement in Southeast Asia became more important to the US as American involvement in Vietnam escalated. Finally, Konfrontasi disillusioned Washington on the reliability of the Indonesian army, hence hurting contact directly.

Still, the US continued to seek contact, and despite being disillusioned with the Indonesian army, the US continued to seek ways to uphold the personal networks. However, the PKI cultural campaign and the increasing anti-American sentiments in Djakarta made US contacts a liability for Indonesians. Hence, the army only reluctantly accepted aid, and finally, in August and September 1965, it ended the formal contacts and declined further US equipment deliveries. Simultaneously, the PKI had forced the US to reduce its presence in Indonesia. By attacking US official and private installation, the PKI had stirred up demands for US withdrawal in Washington. The American answer was to reduce all easy targets for PKI attacks and initiate a gradual withdrawal, only keeping the staff necessary for contact and reporting purposes. As the contacts were reduced, so were the US official presence. The PKI found new targets, and by the end of September 1965, the US had only a skeleton staff remaining in Indonesia. With the defensive plan diminished, US policy was then reduced to waiting for the expected showdown between PKI and the army. On the very same night as the final US official commitment in Indonesia ended, the long awaited showdown began.

__________________

1 Jones 1971: p374
2 Embtel 393 (Djakarta), August 23 1965, "DEF/ Defense Affairs", "INDON", (undated file), Box 1642, NARA
3 Telegram, Cincpac to Ruekda/JCS, September 22 1965, #153, "Indonesia Cables", Vol. IV, 3/6–9/65,2/2, NCF, CF, Box 247, LBJ Library
4 Memo, Ropa and Cooper to McG. Bundy, September 28 1965, #18a, Cooper memos, NSF, Name File, Box 2, LBJ Library
5 Telcon, Ball-McNamara, 0930, October 1 1965, #35, Indonesia, 4/12/64–11/10/65, Telephone calls, 1964–1965, George Ball papers, Box 4, LBJ Library
6 Ibid.
7 Telcon, Ball-Rusk, 10AM, October 1 1965, #29, Indonesia, 4/12/64–11/10/65, Telephone calls, 1964–1965, George Ball papers, Box 4, LBJ Library
8 Ibid.
9 Telcon, Ball-McG. Bundy, 1035, October 1 1965, #30, Indonesia, 4/12/64–11/10/65, Telephone calls, 1964–1965, George Ball papers, Box 4, LBJ Library
10 Telcon, Ball-McCloskey, 1130, October 1 1965, #31, Indonesia, 4/12/64–11/10/65, Telephone calls, 1964–1965, George Ball papers, Box 4, LBJ Library
11 A transcript of the Ball-Helms conversation is either missing or not declassified.
12 Telcon, Ball-Rusk, 1515, October 1 1965, #33, Indonesia, 4/12/64–11/10/65, Telephone calls, 1964–1965, George Ball papers, Box 4, LBJ Library
13 Telcon, Fulbrigh-Ball, 1545, October 1 1965, #34, Indonesia, 4/12/64–11/10/65, Telephone calls, 1964–1965, George Ball papers, Box 4, LBJ Library
14 Ibid.
15 Ibid.
16 Telcon, Rusk-Ball, 1045, October 2 1965, #36, Indonesia, 4/12/64–11/10/65, Telephone calls, 1964–1965, George Ball papers, Box 4, LBJ Library
17 Telcon, Ball-Various , October 2–October 7 1965, #35–#52, Indonesia, 4/12/ Telcon, Ball-Various , October 2–October 7 1965, #35–#52, Indonesia, 4/12/64–11/10/65, Telephone calls, 1964–1965, George Ball papers, Box 4, LBJ Library
18 Cribb 1999: p21; For a broader discussion of the massacres see Cribb 1990
19 Conversations with Robert Cribb, Ruth McVey and Olle Törnquist November 1998-January 1999
20 Brands 1989: pp788-789
21 Ibid.
22 Ibid.
23 Deptel 458 (Djakarta), October 13 1965, [DEF1642], Embtel 1000 (Djakarta), October 14 1
965, [DEF1642]
24 Department of State maintained dedicated series of files documenting allegations of US involvement in Indonesian rebellions, assassinations and coup plans. The files also contain denied requests from numerous rebel groups for help to overthrow Sukarno or split up Indonesia and general reports of the progress of the various rebellions, with special care for the rebellions stemming from the PRRI-rebellion of 1958. See particularly POL 23–9, "INDON, REBELLION & COUPS", 1/1/65, Box 2317, NARA; POL 23–9, "INDON, REBELLION & COUPS", 1/1/64, Box 2317, NARA
25 Embtel 527 (Djakarta), September 3 1965, "POL 6 People biographic data/POL 30 Defectors and Expellees", "INDON", 1/1/64, NARA
26 Ambon, 1961 (Jones 1971: p217)
27 Deptel 1231 (Djakarta), June 3 1965, "POL INDON-US, AFF & RELATIONS ", 5/1/65, ,NARA
28 Gardner 1997: pp. 182–183
29 Memo, Komer to McG. Bundy, January 15 1964, "Komer Memos", Vol. 1 [2], NSF, Name File, Box 6, LBJ
30 Telegram, CIA Wash. to White House and State, January 5 1965, #77, "Indonesia Cables", Vol. 3, 9/64–2/65, 2/2, NSF, Country Files, Box 246, LBJ. Bunnell assumes this general might very well have been Yani (Bunnell 1990: p. )
31 Bunnell 1990: p34; Embtel (Kuala Lumpur), January 9 1965, "Indonesia Cables", Vol. 3, 9/64–2/65, 2/2, NSF, Country Files, Box 246, LBJ Library
32 Bunnell 1990: p33–38
33 Embtel 1435 (Djakarta), January 22 1965, #91, "Indonesia Cables", Vol. 3, 9/64–2/65, 2/2, NSF, Country Files, Box 246, LBJ Library
34 Embtel 1435 (Djakarta), January 22 1965, #91, "Indonesia Cables", Vol. 3, 9/64–2/65, 2/2, NSF, Country Files, Box 246, LBJ Library
35 Embtel 1435 (Djakarta), January 22 1965, #91, "Indonesia Cables", Vol. 3, 9/64–2/65, 2/2, NSF, Country Files, Box 246, LBJ Library
36 Embtel 1435 (Djakarta), January 22 1965, #91, "Indonesia Cables", Vol. 3, 9/64–2/65, 2/2, NSF, Country Files, Box 246, LBJ Library
37
38 Gardner 1997: p206
39 Telegram, USARMA Djakarta/SSO DIA to various (read by Komer), February 10 1965, #104, "Indonesia Cables", Vol. 3, 9/64–2/65, 2/2, NSF, Country Files, Box 246, LBJ
40 Airgram A-32, Cairo to State, 10 July 1965, (Photo of Gilchrist-letter attached), POL 23–9, "INDON, REBELLION & COUPS", 1/1/65, Box 2317, NARA; Airgram A-35, Djakarta to State, July 28 1965, POL 23–9, "INDON, REBELLION & COUPS", 1/1/65, Box 2317, NARA
41 The Czhech agent Vladislav Bittman who defected in 1968 claimed that his agency forged the letter. Bittman also claimed responsibility for the campaign against Bill Palmer. (Gardner 1997: pp. 205–206)
42 Kahin and Kahin 1995
43 Gardner 1997: pp. 184–185
44 Gardner 1997: p. 181
45 Gardner 1997: p. 181
46 Gardner 1997: p. 183
47 Gardner 1997, pp. 193–199
48 Gardner 1997: p. 187
49 Gardner 1997: pp. 186–187: Kahin and Kahin 1995: p. 255
50 Gardner 1997: p. 183
51 Gardner 1997, pp. 183–184

 

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