Our socialism does not include extreme materialistic concepts

“Our socialism does not include extreme materialistic concepts, since Indonesia is primarily a God-fearing, God-loving nation. Our socialism is a mixture. We draw political equality from the American Declaration of Independence. We draw spiritual equality from Islam and Christianity. We draw scientific equality from Marx.” — Sukarno

In these mighty and intricate words, Sukarno, the founding father of Indonesia, speaks as a weaver of civilizations — a man who sought to unite East and West, faith and reason, tradition and progress, into one living fabric of freedom. His declaration is not that of an ideologue, but of a visionary who understood that nations, like people, cannot be built upon borrowed doctrines alone. Each must forge its own soul. In saying that Indonesia’s socialism does not embrace “extreme materialistic concepts,” Sukarno rejects the cold steel of dogma. He insists that his people’s destiny must reflect their spiritual roots — that their system of justice and equality must breathe with the heart of a God-loving nation, not the machinery of atheism or greed. His words are both philosophical and sacred, blending politics with prayer, and revolution with reverence.

The meaning of this quote lies in Sukarno’s attempt to create harmony between conflicting worlds. In an age when the world was divided between capitalism and communism, between the markets of the West and the manifestos of the East, he dreamed of a third path — one that honored Indonesia’s unique character and moral foundation. He speaks of a mixture, a blending of ideals from across humanity: from the American Declaration of Independence, he drew the principle of political equality — that every person, regardless of birth, deserves the right to self-rule. From Islam and Christianity, he drew spiritual equality — that all are equal before God, bound not by race or class, but by the sacred bond of creation. And from Marx, he borrowed scientific equality — the analytical understanding of material injustice and the systems that sustain it. In this synthesis, Sukarno crafted what he called Marhaenism, a socialism born not of division, but of unity — of heaven and earth, reason and faith.

The origin of these words can be found in the turbulent dawn of Indonesia’s independence. Having fought for freedom after centuries of colonial rule, Sukarno faced a shattered land — poor, divided, and uncertain. The world around him was locked in the Cold War, and every nation was pressured to choose sides: capitalist or communist, East or West. But Sukarno, wise to the dangers of dependency, refused to kneel before either empire. He declared that Indonesia would follow neither Washington nor Moscow, but Jakarta’s own path. His socialism was not the socialism of the factories of Europe, but of the rice fields, the mosques, and the villages — a socialism built on the dignity of the human soul. His vision was not to replace one master with another, but to build a nation where equality sprang from both reason and faith.

To understand the depth of Sukarno’s thought, one must see the world he inherited. The West, with its pursuit of liberty, had discovered political freedom but often lost its sense of the sacred; the East, with its heritage of faith, sometimes lacked the instruments of science and progress. Sukarno sought to reconcile them. In his vision, the freedom of man must not destroy the reverence for God, and belief in God must not suppress the freedom of man. It was this balance that gave rise to Pancasila, the five foundational principles of Indonesia: belief in God, humanity, unity, democracy, and social justice. Through them, Sukarno hoped to show that spirituality and socialism need not be enemies, and that the truest form of progress uplifts both the body and the soul.

History offers a mirror to his wisdom. In the years following independence, nations across the world struggled to define their paths. Some, like the Soviet Union, exalted the collective but crushed the spirit; others, like the colonial empires of Europe, exalted wealth but forgot compassion. Indonesia, under Sukarno’s guidance, sought a middle way — one that recognized the material realities of life but refused to reduce human worth to economics alone. Like the ancient philosophers who sought harmony between mind and matter, Sukarno’s socialism was an act of balance. He knew that to build a just nation, one must feed both the stomach and the conscience, for neither can live long without the other.

The lesson of Sukarno’s words reaches beyond Indonesia; it is a lesson for all humanity. He teaches that every society must craft its ideals from the materials of its own spirit. Blind imitation of foreign systems — whether of wealth or revolution — leads to emptiness. True progress must spring from a people’s identity, from their faith, their history, and their shared humanity. We must learn, as he did, to draw wisdom from all sources without surrendering our soul to any one of them. To build a world of justice, we must temper intellect with compassion, science with morality, and power with humility.

Therefore, let these words be a teaching for the ages: that the future belongs not to those who conquer others, but to those who understand themselves. Let each nation, each generation, and each person seek not to copy the systems of the powerful, but to discover the truth that lives within their own heritage. Sukarno’s socialism was not a creed of uniformity, but of harmony — the belief that God, reason, and freedom can coexist, that faith can illuminate progress, and that equality can be both scientific and spiritual. This is the wisdom of balance — a wisdom the modern world, in its haste and division, must learn again.

And so, as Sukarno once dreamed beneath the red-and-white banner of his homeland, let us remember that the highest form of freedom is not rebellion against heaven or submission to power, but the ability to live justly and humbly in harmony with both. In that harmony lies the true independence of man — and the eternal promise of nations that refuse to forget their soul.