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n his last will he said he wished to be buried among his people, not in the state-owned cemetery provided especially for those recognized as heroes.

And there he is now, Mohammad Hatta, one of the founding fathers of the Republic of Indonesia, at Tanah Kusir Cemetery in South Jakarta, where he shares 2 or 3 square meters with the common people he loved.

Another story comes from Wilis Mountain in Central Java. Tan Malaka, a die-hard revolutionary, teacher and leader with amazing intellectuality and vision, and a real foe for Dutch colonialism, now lies in the belly of the earth he fought for, but a great mystery remains. He was killed in 1948 by his own people — the soldiers who were supposed to protect and save him.

As one of the positive impacts of the reform era that began in 1997-1998, more than 40 years after Tan Malaka died, school students were able to read about him freely.

Beforehand, especially under the Soeharto regime (1966-1998), this influential founding father was abandoned and labeled as a “virus” who inspired the rise of communism in Indonesia.

There are many other anonymous heroes with merits that may be buried with them at Kalibata Heroes Cemetery.

There were heroes who never got a pension lump sum, or any medals of merit or fame since they were forgotten by historians or by their own people, or died without any of the privileges given to extraordinary people.

Back to Mohammad “Bung Hatta”, his personal life seemed to be less important compared to his fight for Indonesia’s freedom. He got married after he was 40, while his colleagues may have already had two or more wives and dozens of children.

He lived very modestly although he was the first vice president of Indonesia and could ask for a suitable palace or a better house and facilities.

From 1956, after he resigned from his vice presidential post, Bung Hatta became used to using public transportation, for example by taking the train to the campus where he had to teach.

He taught his children strictly to be economical, and to save whatever could be saved.

There was another interesting story regarding his loyalty to his people. In his arrival at Jakarta’s harbor after he was released from exile in Sumatra, Hatta asked the people who picked him up, “How are our people in Jakarta?”

When he then picked up Bung Karno (a familiar title given to the late Sukarno), who was also exiled by the Dutch government, he by chance wore a new kopiah, headdress for man as a symbol of national identity, which had been given to him as a gift from a friend. And Bung Karno asked, looking at Bung Hatta’s new kopiah, “Where did you buy that kopiah?”

We can also read about the late Gen. Sudirman, Indonesian military legendary who led guerillas in the villages, forests and mountains.

In his famous long journey, illnesses and hard time seemed to be nothing compared to his endeavor in inspiring struggles against the Dutch attempt to maintain its grips in Indonesia.

Despite of the exaggeration of his influence, especially done by military superiors in the Soeharto era in order to campaign for the importance of Indonesian Army in gaining power, Gen. Sudirman remains a true example of a very dedicating hero.

What about now, on this very Hero Day of Nov. 10, 2011?

Say, for instance, as a part of the celebration in commemorating the day, we usually have a parade with all popular costumes and symbols related to the heroes and heroines at schools.

But what’s then? Apart from the hullabaloos of commemoration, do the past popular men and women still have power in shaping our hearts and minds in term of tolerance, justice, honesty, simplicity, or empathy?

In a study over the high school Muslim students, conducted in 2010-11 by an Indonesian NGO in order to map their involvement with religious radicalism, almost all of the respondents said “Yes” when they were asked rhetoric questions such as, “Do you agree to preserve unity in diversity in Indonesia?”

Yet, if the questions were made more substantive and particular, “Do you agree if a church is built around your neighborhood?”, most of them answered “No”.

And we know for sure that Bung Hatta, well-educated in European intellectual tradition but was a very obedient Muslim, played a pivotal role in the rephrasing of the first tenet of the Five-Basic Principles of Republic of Indonesia with the purpose of disseminating freedom in religious life.

If we asked him a question, “What do you think of Ahmadiyah people, who are now abandoned and oppressed, or are forced to amend their beliefs?” He will be very likely answer, “They have their own right to live in this country and therefore to have their own religiosity.”

How about honesty?

We certainly can see that almost all true heroes had “self-dignity”, a value that debilitates them
from taking something that is not theirs.

 Tan Malaka, for example, became an English teacher in his hard-time journey in the Philippines or China for his subsistence and the continuation of his struggle in the early of the 20th century.

Bung Hatta kept writing for small amount of “halal” money even in his exiles.

So? Let’s rest them in peace, but not their values.

The writer is a researcher at Paramadina Foundation, Jakarta.