Introduction by the Festival Director

After every war
someone has to clean up.
Things won’t
straighten themselves up, after all.

Someone has to push the rubble
to the side of the road,
so the corpse-filled wagons
can pass.

 “The End and the Beginning”
Wisława Szymborska
Translated by Joanna Trzeciak

Every festival is a celebration. But what do we have to celebrate when the environment is ravaged by overexploitation, when the living spaces of Indigenous peoples are taken away, when our brothers and sisters in Palestine face a genocide beyond reason, when equality is torn apart within our own societies, when impunity shields the state’s brutal violence, and when capitalism ensnares the working class?

We cannot deny that we are living in a time of global humanitarian crisis. At the same time, we cannot deny literature’s role as an apparatus for healing—that helps us process emotions, nurture empathy and resilience, and create a sense of togetherness. Through literature, we can place ourselves in the perspectives of diverse characters and cultures, deepening our understanding of others’ struggles and nurturing our compassion.

Literature also offers us language to express traumatic experiences that might otherwise remain unspeakable—to find words that bring relief and a sense of ownership over our narratives. In doing so, literature builds a shared emotional landscape that reasserts the universality of human experience and strengthens the web of social support.

Such things are vital to rebuilding the collective bond after crises that have divided us, isolated us, or led us to ruin. For this reason, Humanity—and the global crises that weigh upon it—could not be more relevant as the theme of this year’s Jakarta International Literary Festival. “Homeland in Our Bodies” raises a bold voice of resistance, rebellion, resilience, and steadfastness in the face of a homeland torn apart—as it is none other than the human body itself—voiced through literature. This year, the Jakarta International Literary Festival is not only a celebration, but a call for solidarity—one that strengthens and restores hope.

As in Wisława Szymborska’s poem, perhaps literature is “someone” who must clear away the rubble, wade through the dust and debris, rebuild walls and doors and windows, or construct bridges and stations so that a new generation can move forward, carrying memory and history. Literature is “someone” who—once all is done and healed—lies down in the grass, a blade of grass between the lips, gazing at the sky.

Let us echo “Homeland in Our Bodies” in our minds, and join this movement of human solidarity at the Jakarta International Literary Festival 2025.