Bali’s Buried Past - Blood on the Island of the Gods

One of the most horrific chapters in Balinese history occurred during the anti-communist purges which swept across Indonesia in the mid 1960's and barely anyone dares talk about it. In the years leading up to the massacre, Bali was already a fractured island, mirroring the deepening political and social divisions across Indonesia.

Lush green terraced rice fields with palm trees in a tropical setting. A few people walk along paths. Overcast sky creates a serene mood.

Conflict simmered between a growing base of farmers, labourers and landless workers who had aligned themselves with the Indonesian Communist Party (PKI) and supporters of the island’s traditional Hindu caste system (particularly land owning elites and conservative religious leaders). The PKI championed land reform and "unilateral actions" to redistribute wealth and power, which directly threatened the traditional hierarchy of the Hindu elite.

Stone statue of a mythological creature with an open mouth and ornate carvings stands in a lush green, mossy forest setting.

The killings were sparked when General Suharto, then a rising figure in the military, seized control and launched a nationwide purge against communists in the wake of a failed coup. Around the start of October 1965, tensions escalated and disputes over land rights turned violent. The military, eager to crush leftist influence, fanned fears that communist sympathisers would desecrate Balinese culture, portraying the PKI as not just a political enemy but a spiritual and cultural threat. Even High priests called for spiritual "sacrifices" to restore cosmic order disrupted by social upheaval.

Sunset view of a lush green valley leading to a distant silhouette of Mount Agung. Pink flowers in the foreground, with a purple and orange sky above.

Despite its deeply spiritual and community oriented culture, Bali saw one of the highest per-capita death tolls in the country, during a frenzied campaign of killing and brutal sexual violence. By the time the purge ended, it was estimated that up to 100,000 people were slaughtered in a matter of months, roughly 7% of the island's population at the time. The violence in Bali was particularly intense and localised. Villages, including those around Ubud and Gianyar, saw neighbour turn on neighbour, with many of them accused, often without evidence, of being communists. Unlike in other regions, the Javanese military commanders didn’t lead the killings directly in Bali. Instead, it was often organised by community leaders and carried out by militia death squads made up of the villagers themselves.

Beatings were common and victims were forced to kneel for hours in the sun, starved and humiliated in front of their communities, before being led away to mass graves or thrown into the Ayung and Petanu rivers. The killings were systematic and swift. Entire families were accused of communist ties and were completely wiped out. Traditional farming tools, sickles, machetes, bamboo spears and even sharpened coconut husks, became instruments of gruesome acts of violence and execution. Throats were cut, skulls cracked and bodies dismembered in rice fields, rivers and forest ravines. In contrast to Central Java, where the Army encouraged people to kill the "Gestapu", Bali's eagerness to kill was so tremendous and unexpected that the Army eventually had to step in to prevent all out civil war.

After the killings, most victims were entombed in mass graves. Many families still don’t know where their loved ones were taken or buried. For decades, speaking about the events was dangerous, Suharto’s regime enforced a strict silence around the purge, branding any discussion of the PKI as treason. This culture of silence lasted long after he fell in 1998. Even today, many Balinese elders refuse to speak of it and younger generations grow up knowing very little.

Bali is a land of balance, sekala and niskala, the seen and the unseen. What happened in 1965 didn’t just disrupt society, it ripped the spiritual fabric of the island to shreds and left a long lasting imprint on the land. Mass graves and areas where the killings took place are still considered spiritually unclean and locals avoid these sites, especially after dark. In certain villages, a ritual silence surrounds fields and rivers believed to hold the remains of the dead, while cleansing ceremonies like melukat and ngaben are quietly performed to appease restless spirits.

Lush green jungle with a waterfall and a bamboo bridge. The setting is serene, with vibrant foliage and a calm, natural atmosphere.

Some Balinese spiritual leaders and trance mediums believe that the land itself still carries the energy of this violence, and priests continue to detect signs of unrest in these areas. As a result, purification rituals are regularly conducted to heal both the land and the people, particularly during anniversaries or when strange occurrences resurface.