Bénédicte Milcent: Under the wayang’s spell

On May 10, 2010, Bénédicte Milcent de Burgues de Missiessy died at the age of 87 in Antibes, France.

Until her last breath, she held Indonesia close to her heart, tirelessly advocating its culture, tolerance and human spirit. Although she only lived here from 1955 to 1962, she said those seven years were the most important of her life.

Highly critical of the Western superiority complex, she had great sympathy for people of colonized countries and wanted to experience a newly independent Moslem-majority country. Her friends, particularly the aristocratic self-righteous monarchists, laughed at her. “Go and see for yourself,” they sneered.

She did, and became the first French woman to do so.

She arrived in Indonesia at a defining moment in history: When a new nation was being built, and where nationalists still greeted each other with the battle cry “Merdeka” (freedom). The atmosphere permeating the country was one of euphoric preparation for the historic Afro-Asian conference.

She was fascinated by the display of camaraderie, national efforts and spirited enthusiasm that had engulfed the country. The spark of that time stayed with her throughout the years.

As the assistant to the First French Cultural Attaché, M. Scherer, and while living in the house of nationalist Sukarjo Wiryopranoto, she became acquainted with the country’s prominent nationalist figures. She attended many cultural events including wayang performances at President Sukarno’s Presidential Palace alongside the country’s corps diplomatique and high-level bureaucrats.

“I was struck by the relaxed atmosphere, and the natural flow and chat during those performances, so different from concerts in the West where everybody must be quiet and no late-comers are allowed.”

Her inquisitive, charming personality and openness were disarming. Then minister of education Priyono said she was the first foreigner he knew who wanted to learn Indonesian.

Particularly through Sukarjo, a figure she considered highly cultured, whom she admired and respected for his national fervor, his sharp intelligence, and warm humanity — virtues that actually matched hers so well — she soon gained a thorough insight into Indonesia’s political and cultural identity.

She witnessed the historic Afro- Asian Conference in Bandung just two months after setting foot in Indonesia, and grasping too well its significance for Asia and the Western world, she was saddened by some of the French media’s negative reporting.

After Jakarta, she settled in Semarang to teach French and French culture at the SMA Negeri and at the IKIP (Teacher Training School) of the university.

When carrying out social work with young Indonesian women, she couldn’t help but be impressed by their sense of nationalism, particularly in the women divisions of organizations like PNI, Masjumi, Nahdlatul Ulama.

She loved the wayang, its classical figures like Arjuna, Yudistira (she named her Deux Chevaux car Sembadra), and was fascinated by the soothing beauty of the gamelan. The Javanese, their culture, their refined manners, respectful attitude towards older people and the absence of arguments – “In France, one always argues” – inspired her immensely.

She felt at home, kerasan, as she used to say in Javanese. For her many friends, she was Bu Milcent, Jeng Ben or just Béné.

Critical and analytical, she was also courageous, went against the mainstream, but she was not a rebel.

Bénédicte Milcent always did things her own distinct way, staying true to her independent spirit until her last breath.

Her Javanese language teacher once suggested she might have been a Javanese in a previous life. And perhaps she was.

Selamat Jalan Béné, may your soul rest in eternal peace.