Rain and Tears–May 1968 & May 1998

Thirty years before the upheaval of May 1998 in Indonesia, France witnessed its own storm of rain and tears. The student movement of May 1968 unfolded under the drizzle of Parisian spring, accompanied by the sting of tear gas. The song Rain and Tears by Aphrodite’s Child, though not overtly political, became a poignant metaphor for collective sorrow. Rain fell from the sky, tears fell from the eyes, and together they painted a landscape of unrest and yearning.

History does indeed repeat itself, though never in exactly the same way. The phrase reminds us that human societies often circle back to familiar patterns of unrest, hope, and tragedy. May 1968 in France and May 1998 in Indonesia are striking examples: both were moments when ordinary people, especially students and workers, rose against systems they felt were unjust. In Paris, the “rain and tears” were largely symbolic—tear gas, bruises, and the emotional scars of confrontation. In Jakarta, they were devastatingly literal—thousands of lives lost, families broken, and trauma that still echoes today.

The repetition lies in the cycle: youthful idealism colliding with entrenched power, collective suffering becoming a catalyst for change, and the enduring paradox that progress often demands sacrifice. Yet each recurrence carries its own texture—France’s legacy was cultural and intellectual, Indonesia’s was political and reformist. Both remind us that rain and tears are not only metaphors but recurring realities in the human struggle for dignity and freedom.

In Jakarta three decades later, rain also poured down amidst chaos. Yet the tears shed there were not only provoked by tear gas; they were born of grief, loss, and the collapse of trust in a regime that had ruled for decades. Rain and tears, in these two distinct contexts, became a universal language of suffering. Paris spoke of intellectual freedom, Jakarta of political and economic liberation.

Rain in France carried the fragrance of cultural revolution: students demanded reform in education, workers sought fairer labour rights, and artists longed for creative freedom. Their tears were tears of idealism. In Jakarta, rain mingled with the acrid smoke of burning tyres and looted buildings. The people's tears were tears of economic despair and social trauma.

The similarity lies in rain concealing tears. In Paris, spring showers masked the students' sobs. In Jakarta, tropical downpours hid the cries of mothers mourning their children. The difference lay in context: in France, tears sprang from ideological clashes; in Indonesia, they flowed from economic collapse and authoritarian repression.

Rain and tears remind us that collective suffering always seeks a symbol. In France, a song became that symbol. In Indonesia, it was the anguished cries echoing through the streets. Philosophically, rain is external, tears are internal. Both converge in the public sphere when pain becomes collective.

May 1968 demonstrated that tears could fuel social change. Student protests triggered reforms, even if they did not topple the regime. May 1998 revealed that tears could ignite revolution. The people’s grief forced a ruler to step down, opening the path to democracy. Rain in France became the romantic backdrop of cultural revolution; rain in Jakarta became the tragic backdrop of political upheaval.

The tears of French students were tears of hope. The tears of Indonesians were tears of loss. Yet both proved that tears are never wasted; they are seeds of transformation. Rain and tears also remind us of ambivalence: they can foster solidarity, but they can also leave scars. In France, solidarity between students and workers created a formidable force. In Indonesia, solidarity between students and ordinary citizens created the momentum for reform.

Trauma, however, remained. In France, many felt the revolution had failed. In Indonesia, many believed reform had not healed the wounds. Rain and tears are symbols of history’s cycle. They come and go, but their traces endure. The song Rain and Tears reminds us that sorrow is part of life. The events of May 1998 remind us that sorrow can reshape history.

Rain in France nourished new ideas. Rain in Indonesia nourished new democracy. Tears in France belonged to a generation rejecting the status quo. Tears in Indonesia belonged to a people rejecting oppression. Both show that rain and tears are a universal language of resistance.

They are proof that history is always soaked in suffering, yet from that dampness new life emerges. In France, cultural freedom blossomed. In Indonesia, political freedom took root. Rain and tears are paradoxical: painful, yet fertile. In France, they gave birth to new art, music, and philosophy. In Indonesia, they gave birth to a new political system, press freedom, and democratic space.

Rain and tears are timeless. Each generation experiences them in different forms. May 1968 and May 1998 prove that history repeats itself through the same symbols. They are reminders that humanity cannot escape sorrow, but can transform it into energy. In France, that energy was cultural revolution. In Indonesia, it was political revolution.

Rain and tears are signs that change always springs from suffering. There is no revolution without tears, no reform without the rain of hardship. They are languages beyond words, music of nature and music of the soul. Rain and Tears was the soundtrack of 1968. The cries of Indonesians were the soundtrack of 1998. Both were melodies of grief, yet both gave rise to new harmonies.

Rain and tears are harmonies between suffering and hope. They remind us that life is not only about sunshine. There are times when we must accept rain, and times when we must accept tears. Yet from rain comes the rainbow, and from tears comes wisdom. May 1968 and May 1998 were rainbows after storms, wisdom after sorrow.

Both show that history is a cycle of suffering and hope. Rain and tears are symbols of that cycle. They remind us that humanity always learns from sorrow. And ultimately, rain and tears are not endings, but beginnings of new life—whether in France in 1968 or in Indonesia in 1998.

Rain and Tears became a symbolic thread linking two very different upheavals: May 1968 in France and May 1998 in Indonesia. Both moments were marked by rain-soaked streets and tear-filled eyes. Yet, their historical legacies diverged—France birthed a cultural-intellectual revolution, while Indonesia ushered in political reform amid deep trauma.

It is indeed fascinating to read the lyrics of Rain and Tears within a historical frame. Literally, the song was written as a melancholic love ballad about sorrow, pretence, and the fragility of the heart. Yet, when it was released in 1968, right in the midst of the student uprisings in France, many interpreted it as a mirror of the atmosphere on the streets: spring rain mingling with tear gas, weeping blending with demands for freedom.

Lines such as “Rain and tears are the same” and “But in the sun you’ve got to play the game” can be read not merely as reflections on love, but as commentary on social pressure: in public, demonstrators had to “play the role” of strength and courage, even though their hearts were filled with fear. Likewise, the phrase “You can pretend it’s nothing but the rain” resonates with the way people conceal suffering behind the symbol of rain.

Although textually the song is not political, its reception transformed it into an emotional soundtrack for the May 1968 movement. The rain and tears in its lyrics seemed to merge with the very real rain and tears on the streets of Paris. This is what made it feel less like a private love story and more like a portrayal of the demonstrators themselves.

Philosophical Resonance

Rain and tears in both contexts symbolised human vulnerability and collective struggle. In France, they fertilised intellectual soil, producing new philosophies of power and freedom. In Indonesia, they watered the seeds of democracy, though the harvest was mixed—political freedom without full justice.

Both events remind us that rain and tears are not merely signs of sorrow but catalysts of transformation. They conceal pain yet reveal resilience, marking history with the paradox that suffering can both wound and renew.

France, May 1968: Rain, Tears, and Cultural Revolution

• Origins: Student protests at Nanterre and the Sorbonne against rigid education systems quickly escalated into nationwide strikes involving over 10 million workers.
• Atmosphere: Parisian spring rains mingled with tear gas, creating a literal and metaphorical landscape of “rain and tears.”
• Impact: The protests shook President Charles de Gaulle’s government but did not topple it. Instead, they transformed French society.
• Legacy: France saw the rise of critical intellectuals such as Michel Foucault, Pierre Bourdieu, Jacques Derrida, Gilles Deleuze, and Jean Baudrillard, whose ideas reshaped philosophy, sociology, and cultural theory. The slogans—“Sous les pavés, la plage!” (“Under the cobblestones, the beach!”) and “Il est interdit d’interdire!” (“It is forbidden to forbid!”)—captured the spirit of liberation.

Indonesia, May 1998: Rain, Tears, and Political Reform

• Origins: Triggered by the Asian Financial Crisis (1997–1998), students and citizens demanded the end of President Soeharto’s 32-year rule, fuelled by anger at corruption, collusion, and nepotism.
• Atmosphere: Jakarta’s tropical rains fell on streets filled with protests, riots, and mourning. Tear gas was deployed, but the deeper tears came from loss of lives, economic despair, and ethnic violence.
• Impact: Unlike France, Indonesia’s protests forced immediate political change. Soeharto resigned on 21 May 1998, marking the beginning of the Reformasi era.
• Legacy: Indonesia gained free elections, press freedom, and expanded civil liberties, but reform stalled at the procedural level. New oligarchies emerged, corruption persisted, and democratic ethics remained fragile.

Fatalities

In May 1968 in France, the loss of life was relatively limited, whereas May 1998 in Indonesia claimed thousands of victims and left far deeper social wounds. This contrast in the scale of suffering demonstrates how the symbol of “rain and tears” became a tragic reality in Jakarta.

Victims of May 1968 in France

The wave of student and worker demonstrations, involving millions, did indeed shake Charles de Gaulle’s government, but it did not culminate in large‑scale bloodshed. Clashes with the police resulted in hundreds of injuries and several fatalities, yet the number of deaths was small compared with the scale of the protests. What stood out more was the social and political trauma: fear, repression by the authorities, and the experience of a young generation confronting state violence. May 1968 is remembered not for the number of lives lost, but for the cultural and intellectual impact born of collective suffering.

Victims of May 1998 in Indonesia

By contrast, the Reformasi of 1998 in Indonesia left wounds that were far more profound. According to the report of the Joint Fact‑Finding Team (TGPF), the May 1998 riots in Jakarta alone claimed 1,190 lives. Of these, 27 were killed by bullets fired by security forces, including four Trisakti University students who fell on 12 May 1998: Elang Mulia Lesmana, Heri Hertanto, Hafidin Royan, and Hendriawan Sie. The remainder perished in fires during mass looting and arson. In addition to the fatalities, 91 people were injured and hundreds of women, particularly from the Chinese‑Indonesian community, suffered sexual violence.

The unrest also spread to other cities such as Solo, Lampung, Palembang, Surabaya, and Medan. The scale of suffering revealed that the tears of the Indonesian people were not merely symbolic, but a bitter reality marking the collapse of the New Order regime.

Reflection  

The comparison of victims in these two events highlights a stark contrast. France in 1968 left primarily psychological scars and ideological clashes, while Indonesia in 1998 left physical wounds, ethnic trauma, and a heavy toll in human lives. Rain and Tears in the French context was a metaphor, whereas in Indonesia it became a tragic reality. 

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