By: Hafid Abbas
International Consultant for UNESCO PROAP (Principal Regional Office for Asia and the Pacific), 1992–1995.
History often celebrates power, wealth, and recognition. Yet the deeper current of civilization is shaped by men and women who dedicate their lives not to accumulation of material ownership, but to contribution. In two vastly different contexts—one in the bustling political and intellectual life of Indonesia, the other in the working-class neighborhoods of Los Angeles—stand two remarkable individuals: Yusril Ihza Mahendra and Simon Rodia. Though separated by geography, profession, and culture, both devoted their lives to creating something that ultimately belonged not to themselves, but to others.
Simon Rodia was an Italian immigrant laborer with little formal education who transformed an ordinary triangular plot of land in Los Angeles into one of the most extraordinary works of folk art in the United States. Beginning in 1921, he devoted himself to constructing what would later be known as the Watts Towers. Working entirely on his own for more than three decades, Rodia labored after long days of physical work, bending steel rods by hand, shaping wire mesh, and embedding fragments of broken glass, pottery, tiles, and seashells into soaring sculptural forms. Without formal architectural training, advanced machinery, or institutional support, he created seventeen interconnected structures, some rising nearly one hundred feet into the sky. The towers stand today as a remarkable testament to imagination, perseverance, and artistic vision, and they invite comparison to the Seven Wonders of the World for their ambition, originality, and monumental presence.
Rodia completed the towers in his late sixties, close to the age of seventy. Then, in a move that puzzled many observers, he walked away. He deeded the property to a neighbor and left Los Angeles for Northern California, never returning to see his masterpiece again. When asked why, he reportedly answered simply: “I build the tower and I finish the tower.” For Rodia, the meaning of his life’s work was not in ownership or fame. It was in the act of building itself. Once the work stood complete, he no longer needed to claim it. The creation belonged to the world.
Rodia’s life was later reflected upon in The Ascent of Man by Jacob Bronowski (BBC, 1973). Bronowski saw in Rodia the embodiment of humanity’s creative impulse—the universal drive to transform raw material into meaning. Creativity, he argued, is not reserved for elites or specialists; it is a fundamental human trait. Rodia, a laborer without formal artistic recognition, demonstrated that the ascent of humanity lies in imagination, persistence, and faith in one’s inner calling. His departure from the towers symbolized a profound detachment from ego. The value of his life was measured not by what he kept, but by what he gave.
In a very different arena stands Yusril Ihza Mahendra—constitutional scholar, political leader, and public intellectual. His life has been dedicated to the development of law, democracy, and human rights in Indonesia. Serving across multiple administrations and political eras, he has contributed not only as a statesman but also as a thinker whose writings and ideas have shaped public discourse. Yet, like Rodia, Yusril’s most enduring acts may not lie in titles held, but in legacies entrusted to others.
In August 2025, Yusril inaugurated the “Professor Dr. Yusril Ihza Mahendra Collection” at the Faculty of Law, Universitas Indonesia. This was no ordinary donation. It consisted of more fourteen thousands of books, rare manuscripts of the Qur’an written on camel skin and other ancient materials, historical artifacts, paintings, and invaluable scholarly resources accumulated over decades. Rather than preserving this collection as private property, he entrusted it to the university and to Indonesia’s younger generation. In doing so, he transformed personal intellectual wealth into a public endowment—a civilizational gift for generations to come.
Shortly thereafter, on the occasion of his seventieth birthday, eight major volumes documenting his intellectual journey and public service were launched. These works represent not merely autobiographical reflections, but a transmission of ideas—on Islam, democracy, constitutional law, restorative justice, and national development. Through these books, Yusril offered his experiences and insights as intellectual capital for the nation. Just as Rodia’s towers became a physical monument to creative perseverance, Yusril’s collection and writings form an institutional monument to scholarship and public service.
The parallels between these two figures are striking. Both completed monumental works near the age of seventy. Both chose to relinquish personal ownership over what they had painstakingly built. Both seemed guided by an inner conviction that fulfillment lies in completion and contribution, not possession. Rodia constructed towers of steel and mosaic; Yusril constructed frameworks of law and repositories of knowledge. One worked in physical solitude; the other navigated complex political landscapes. Yet both demonstrated a quiet confidence that their creations would outlive them—and that this was enough.
There is also a shared humility in their gestures. Rodia never sought recognition from artistic institutions. During his lifetime, his towers were often dismissed as eccentric or unsafe. Likewise, public service, especially in times of political transition, rarely guarantees universal praise. Yet dedication to a higher purpose requires perseverance beyond public approval. Both men appear to have understood that legacy is not secured by applause, but by usefulness.
Their lives illustrate a moral mathematics: greatness is measured by contribution. Rodia’s gift was beauty and inspiration emerging from discarded fragments. Yusril’s gift is knowledge, institutional memory, and intellectual guidance offered to the young. In both cases, the beneficiary is not the individual creator, but society. The towers stand as a landmark of cultural imagination; the collection and books stand as resources for future scholars and citizens, from generation to generation.
In a world often driven by the accumulation of material possessions, the lives of Simon Rodia and Yusril Ihza Mahendra remind us of a different measure of success. To dedicate one’s entire life to a work that ultimately belongs to others is an act of profound trust. It assumes that the future is worthy of inheritance. It affirms that human effort gains its highest meaning when it contributes to something beyond the self.
Two men, two continents, two different histories—yet one shared philosophy. The true value of a person is measured not by what they receive, but by what they leave behind for others to build upon. The towers of Simon Rodia still rise against the Los Angeles sky, and the intellectual legacy of Yusril Ihza Mahendra continues to illuminate young minds in Indonesia. Their lives remind us that the greatest monuments are not made merely of steel, stone, or paper, but of generosity and vision. When creation becomes contribution, and achievement becomes inheritance, a life transcends its own time—and quietly shapes the destiny of others.
“Ars longa, vita brevis” — “Art is long, life is short” (Hippocrates). This enduring wisdom underscores that human achievements—through art, scholarship, and institutions—outlast the individual, exemplified in both Rodia’s monumental towers and Yusril Ihza Mahendra’s scholarly contributions.
Madina, 16 Fberuary 2026
