Abstract:Observers of Timorese culture have long maintained a preoccupation with the term “lulik.” Its meanings have fluctuated in the past 150 years—with prominent associations including “idolatry,” “the sacred,” “prohibited,” “black magic,” and “the core of Timorese culture.” But Timorese have also commonly used the word as an adjective. This paper traces the origin of the bifurcated uses of the word lulik through a reading of missionaries’ efforts to translate Portuguese religious texts into Tetun since the 1870s. In early European missionaries’ ethnographic reports, lulik was identified as Catholicism’s “Other”—and lulik was adopted as the translation of “idolatry” in missionaries’ Tetun texts. However, it was impossible for Europeans to maintain the singular pejorative meaning of lulik, as the Timorese preferred to call Catholic priests nai-lulik (lulik lord). A Timorese collaborator on Bible translation further took advantage of the missionaries’ ignorance of Timorese culture and language: Jesus was called Maromak Oan (the ritual ruler in Wehali) and liurai (the indigenous executive authority), while Caiaphas became the head sacerdote (Port. priest) and Pontius Pilate was called Em-Boot (the title for a Portuguese governor). The upshot was that an attempt to present Catholicism as a European religion failed in Tetun, and translated accounts of Jesus Christ’s final days became the story of an innocent native who was executed by the colonial and religious authorities. The missionaries’ Europe-centric mistranslation of lulik and the Timorese cosmology strongly influenced the way the academic discourse on lulik has developed in the following generations.
摘要:长期以来，东帝汶文化的观察者一直对“卢利克”一词保持着关注。在过去的150年里，这个词的含义发生了变化，主要与“偶像崇拜”、“神圣”、“禁止”、“黑魔法”和“东帝汶文化的核心”有关。但是东帝汶人也经常把这个词用作形容词。本文通过阅读传教士自19世纪70年代以来将葡萄牙宗教文本翻译成德顿语的努力，追溯了lulik一词的两种用法的起源。在早期欧洲传教士的民族志报告中，路利克被认定为天主教的“他者”——路利克在传教士的德顿文本中被用作“偶像崇拜”的翻译。但是，欧洲人不可能保持“卢里克”的单一贬义，因为东帝汶人喜欢称天主教神父为“卢里克主”。圣经翻译的一位东帝汶合作者进一步利用传教士对东帝汶文化和语言的无知:耶稣被称为Maromak Oan (Wehali的仪式统治者)和liurai(土著行政当局)，而该亚法则成为首席神职人员(Port。而本丢彼拉多则被称为Em-Boot(葡萄牙总督的头衔)。结果是，在德顿，试图将天主教作为欧洲宗教呈现出来的努力失败了，耶稣基督最后几天的翻译成了一个无辜的当地人被殖民和宗教当局处决的故事。传教士以欧洲为中心对鲁力克和东帝汶宇宙学的误译强烈影响了后世关于鲁力克的学术论述的发展方式。
{"title":"Converting Tetun: Colonial Missionaries’ Conceptual Mapping in the Timorese Cosmology and Some Local Responses, 1874–1937","authors":"Kisho Tsuchiya","doi":"10.1353/IND.2019.0005","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1353/IND.2019.0005","url":null,"abstract":"Abstract:Observers of Timorese culture have long maintained a preoccupation with the term “lulik.” Its meanings have fluctuated in the past 150 years—with prominent associations including “idolatry,” “the sacred,” “prohibited,” “black magic,” and “the core of Timorese culture.” But Timorese have also commonly used the word as an adjective. This paper traces the origin of the bifurcated uses of the word lulik through a reading of missionaries’ efforts to translate Portuguese religious texts into Tetun since the 1870s. In early European missionaries’ ethnographic reports, lulik was identified as Catholicism’s “Other”—and lulik was adopted as the translation of “idolatry” in missionaries’ Tetun texts. However, it was impossible for Europeans to maintain the singular pejorative meaning of lulik, as the Timorese preferred to call Catholic priests nai-lulik (lulik lord). A Timorese collaborator on Bible translation further took advantage of the missionaries’ ignorance of Timorese culture and language: Jesus was called Maromak Oan (the ritual ruler in Wehali) and liurai (the indigenous executive authority), while Caiaphas became the head sacerdote (Port. priest) and Pontius Pilate was called Em-Boot (the title for a Portuguese governor). The upshot was that an attempt to present Catholicism as a European religion failed in Tetun, and translated accounts of Jesus Christ’s final days became the story of an innocent native who was executed by the colonial and religious authorities. The missionaries’ Europe-centric mistranslation of lulik and the Timorese cosmology strongly influenced the way the academic discourse on lulik has developed in the following generations.","PeriodicalId":41794,"journal":{"name":"Internetworking Indonesia","volume":null,"pages":null},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2019-06-19","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"86052196","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
R. Fox, D. Webster, Juliana Brito Santana Leal, Fernando Jorge Saraiva Ferreira, R. Feijó, A. McWilliam, Carmeneza Dos Santos Monteiro, Susana de Matos Viegas, Kisho Tsuchiya, D. Kammen, Howard M. Federspiel, Kristina Großmann, J. Lindsay
Abstract:A brief introduction to the sources of and inspirations for the five essays that comprise this special-focus issue of Indonesia. The articles presented in this themed volume flow from an ambitious two-year initiative by the Association of Asian Studies (AAS) to raise the profile of Timor-Leste studies, both at AAS and in the wider North American academy. First presented at AAS’s 2017 conference (Toronto), the collection highlights the work of both established and emerging scholars and makes a timely intervention in Asian Studies by offering insights and experiences from Southeast Asia’s newest country.
{"title":"Highlighting Timor-Leste Studies","authors":"R. Fox, D. Webster, Juliana Brito Santana Leal, Fernando Jorge Saraiva Ferreira, R. Feijó, A. McWilliam, Carmeneza Dos Santos Monteiro, Susana de Matos Viegas, Kisho Tsuchiya, D. Kammen, Howard M. Federspiel, Kristina Großmann, J. Lindsay","doi":"10.1353/IND.2019.0000","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1353/IND.2019.0000","url":null,"abstract":"Abstract:A brief introduction to the sources of and inspirations for the five essays that comprise this special-focus issue of Indonesia. The articles presented in this themed volume flow from an ambitious two-year initiative by the Association of Asian Studies (AAS) to raise the profile of Timor-Leste studies, both at AAS and in the wider North American academy. First presented at AAS’s 2017 conference (Toronto), the collection highlights the work of both established and emerging scholars and makes a timely intervention in Asian Studies by offering insights and experiences from Southeast Asia’s newest country.","PeriodicalId":41794,"journal":{"name":"Internetworking Indonesia","volume":null,"pages":null},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2019-06-19","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"85862678","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
Abstract:This article analyzes the key role of graves and reburials (i.e., the relocation of a grave to a new site, or its refurbishment) in making ancestors present in the lives of the Fataluku Timorese. The living include and experience their deceased relatives in their present-day web of kin, both through dreams and rituals. The author shows that such close attention given by living relatives to their ancestors is sustained in a relationship of mutual care that makes ancestors co-present in their descendants’ lives. By focusing on family members’ challenges in attending ancestor worship rituals as well as on reburial processes that involve diverse forms of communication with the ancestors, the article illustrates how reburials contribute to the balance between the spiritual world and the world of the living (for example, to avoid misfortune). The author uses “co-presence” as a key description of how the Timorese deal with and include ancestors in their everyday lives. This co-presence can be envisaged as “mutuality of being”—kinship in the strict sense of the word. It also describes the balance between the spirit and living worlds. Through their graves, ancestors make themselves present through specific sites. The Timor-Leste government’s favorable policies concerning martyrs’ burials can thus be considered a post-conflict measure that achieves balance between the lived and the spiritual world, a balance that allows life to go on.
{"title":"The Co-presence of Ancestors and Their Reburials among the Fataluku (Timor-Leste)","authors":"S. Viegas","doi":"10.1353/IND.2019.0004","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1353/IND.2019.0004","url":null,"abstract":"Abstract:This article analyzes the key role of graves and reburials (i.e., the relocation of a grave to a new site, or its refurbishment) in making ancestors present in the lives of the Fataluku Timorese. The living include and experience their deceased relatives in their present-day web of kin, both through dreams and rituals. The author shows that such close attention given by living relatives to their ancestors is sustained in a relationship of mutual care that makes ancestors co-present in their descendants’ lives. By focusing on family members’ challenges in attending ancestor worship rituals as well as on reburial processes that involve diverse forms of communication with the ancestors, the article illustrates how reburials contribute to the balance between the spiritual world and the world of the living (for example, to avoid misfortune). The author uses “co-presence” as a key description of how the Timorese deal with and include ancestors in their everyday lives. This co-presence can be envisaged as “mutuality of being”—kinship in the strict sense of the word. It also describes the balance between the spirit and living worlds. Through their graves, ancestors make themselves present through specific sites. The Timor-Leste government’s favorable policies concerning martyrs’ burials can thus be considered a post-conflict measure that achieves balance between the lived and the spiritual world, a balance that allows life to go on.","PeriodicalId":41794,"journal":{"name":"Internetworking Indonesia","volume":null,"pages":null},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2019-06-19","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"73749549","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
David Kloos’s book Becoming Better Muslims offers a refreshing new perspective to a topic and region that has already received a great deal of scholarly attention: Islam, politics, and agency in Aceh, the western-most province of Indonesia. Whereas most authors in recent years have tended to focus on classical topics of political Islam, such as Islam and nation building or Islamic law,1 Kloos instead chooses to stress “religious agency,” which includes religious practices as well as ethical improvement and its entanglement with Islamic authorities and the state. He therefore aims to shed light on the intertwinement between the personal space for action—thereby referring to an individual’s pious practices and agency—and norms established by state and religious institutions. Specifically, Kloos asks how “ordinary” Acehnese Muslims experience their daily lives and what religious routines they practice in their attempt to become good or better Muslims. The theoretical approaches that inform Kloos’s study are concepts of agency and practice in combination with ethics and morality.
David Kloos的著作《成为更好的穆斯林》为一个已经受到大量学术关注的话题和地区提供了一个令人耳目一新的视角:印度尼西亚最西部省份亚齐的伊斯兰教、政治和机构。近年来，大多数作者倾向于关注政治伊斯兰教的经典主题，如伊斯兰教和国家建设或伊斯兰法律，而Kloos却选择强调“宗教机构”，包括宗教实践以及道德改进及其与伊斯兰当局和国家的纠缠。因此，他的目的是阐明个人行为空间(指个人虔诚的实践和行为)与国家和宗教机构建立的规范之间的相互交织。具体来说，Kloos询问了“普通的”亚齐穆斯林是如何体验他们的日常生活的，以及他们为了成为优秀或更好的穆斯林而进行了哪些宗教活动。Kloos研究的理论方法是代理和实践的概念与伦理和道德的结合。
{"title":"Becoming Better Muslims: Religious Authority and Ethical Improvement in Aceh, Indonesia by David Kloos (review)","authors":"Kristina Großmann","doi":"10.1353/IND.2019.0008","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1353/IND.2019.0008","url":null,"abstract":"David Kloos’s book Becoming Better Muslims offers a refreshing new perspective to a topic and region that has already received a great deal of scholarly attention: Islam, politics, and agency in Aceh, the western-most province of Indonesia. Whereas most authors in recent years have tended to focus on classical topics of political Islam, such as Islam and nation building or Islamic law,1 Kloos instead chooses to stress “religious agency,” which includes religious practices as well as ethical improvement and its entanglement with Islamic authorities and the state. He therefore aims to shed light on the intertwinement between the personal space for action—thereby referring to an individual’s pious practices and agency—and norms established by state and religious institutions. Specifically, Kloos asks how “ordinary” Acehnese Muslims experience their daily lives and what religious routines they practice in their attempt to become good or better Muslims. The theoretical approaches that inform Kloos’s study are concepts of agency and practice in combination with ethics and morality.","PeriodicalId":41794,"journal":{"name":"Internetworking Indonesia","volume":null,"pages":null},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2019-06-19","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"79348122","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
The “soul catcher” (sambir nyawa) was the battle standard (flag) of Mangkunagara, a rebel prince in the wars of succession in Java in the eighteenth century. The standard was blue-black in color with a white crescent moon. Ricklefs’s book uses the standard as the starting point to describe Mangkunagara’s vital role in the turmoil of the eighteenthcentury Javanese court, which ultimately left behind a centralized system of rule in place of a vastly weakened and decentralized system open to outside influence and control. While not officially an “heirloom” (pusaka), that is, an old weapon, crown, or piece of art believed to have supranatural power, the standard nevertheless was believed to have strong magical powers. It was borne by aristocratic youths on horseback, slightly behind the heirlooms, when the column was on the march or joined battle with a foe. It was believed to project power against Mangkunagara’s foes and vanquish them, whether they were Javanese or European. When Mangkunagara’s enemies were numerous, the standard supposedly delivered Mangkunagara to the safety of Mount Lawu, from where he could attack again when his enemies had diminished in number. Also in Mangkunagara’s battle formation were two other important ingredients. The first was a gamelan orchestra, carried on horseback, which Mangkunagara enjoyed hearing in general, although it played especially during combat because Mangkunagara used its melodies and tones to achieve the proper mood to be successful in the ensuing battle. He also had a bodyguard of armed and well-trained women warriors, which protected him in combat. Some of the women served as transcribers of important documents, especially of Mangkunagara’s own writings when he was not campaigning. Mangkunagara’s deep concern for the welfare of his bodyguard is frequently expressed in his extensive autobiography. The actual fighters in Mangkunagara’s armies were short-term enlistees who fought for the loot that they took from the areas they overran. The armies ranged in size from a few hundred mercenaries to several thousands, depending on the importance of the campaign and the prospects of looting an area that had not been overrun in some time. Such armies were not very dependable or loyal, and the princes in competition with one another could have masses of followers one day and almost none the next. The net effect of such campaigning was that clear results were seldom attained and the countryside was perpetually in shambles. The civil wars lasted from 1743 to 1757 and were, first and foremost, struggles among contenders for the throne. But, of course, the wars involved highly motivated court factions and even local interests seeking autonomy at the expense of the political center. The prosperous countryside provided the financial fuel for raising armies and permitted the contenders to fight one another across the kingdom. When, finally, a peace was achieved in 1757, three figures were left as winners. There was Man
{"title":"Soul Catcher—Java’s Fiery Prince Mangkunagara I, 1726–95 by M. C. Ricklefs (review)","authors":"Howard M. Federspiel","doi":"10.1353/IND.2019.0007","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1353/IND.2019.0007","url":null,"abstract":"The “soul catcher” (sambir nyawa) was the battle standard (flag) of Mangkunagara, a rebel prince in the wars of succession in Java in the eighteenth century. The standard was blue-black in color with a white crescent moon. Ricklefs’s book uses the standard as the starting point to describe Mangkunagara’s vital role in the turmoil of the eighteenthcentury Javanese court, which ultimately left behind a centralized system of rule in place of a vastly weakened and decentralized system open to outside influence and control. While not officially an “heirloom” (pusaka), that is, an old weapon, crown, or piece of art believed to have supranatural power, the standard nevertheless was believed to have strong magical powers. It was borne by aristocratic youths on horseback, slightly behind the heirlooms, when the column was on the march or joined battle with a foe. It was believed to project power against Mangkunagara’s foes and vanquish them, whether they were Javanese or European. When Mangkunagara’s enemies were numerous, the standard supposedly delivered Mangkunagara to the safety of Mount Lawu, from where he could attack again when his enemies had diminished in number. Also in Mangkunagara’s battle formation were two other important ingredients. The first was a gamelan orchestra, carried on horseback, which Mangkunagara enjoyed hearing in general, although it played especially during combat because Mangkunagara used its melodies and tones to achieve the proper mood to be successful in the ensuing battle. He also had a bodyguard of armed and well-trained women warriors, which protected him in combat. Some of the women served as transcribers of important documents, especially of Mangkunagara’s own writings when he was not campaigning. Mangkunagara’s deep concern for the welfare of his bodyguard is frequently expressed in his extensive autobiography. The actual fighters in Mangkunagara’s armies were short-term enlistees who fought for the loot that they took from the areas they overran. The armies ranged in size from a few hundred mercenaries to several thousands, depending on the importance of the campaign and the prospects of looting an area that had not been overrun in some time. Such armies were not very dependable or loyal, and the princes in competition with one another could have masses of followers one day and almost none the next. The net effect of such campaigning was that clear results were seldom attained and the countryside was perpetually in shambles. The civil wars lasted from 1743 to 1757 and were, first and foremost, struggles among contenders for the throne. But, of course, the wars involved highly motivated court factions and even local interests seeking autonomy at the expense of the political center. The prosperous countryside provided the financial fuel for raising armies and permitted the contenders to fight one another across the kingdom. When, finally, a peace was achieved in 1757, three figures were left as winners. There was Man","PeriodicalId":41794,"journal":{"name":"Internetworking Indonesia","volume":null,"pages":null},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2019-06-19","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"83058735","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
Abstract:The emergence of a vibrant remittance economy in East Timor, generated by growing numbers of labor migrants working overseas, has been an unexpected feature of Timor-Leste’s post-Independence years. Formal and informal labor-migration schemes are part of this new economic landscape, and the remittance dollars that flow back to Timor-Leste are having profound, positive effects on communities there. Some of the striking impacts of this trend include funding house construction, renovations, and upgrades; subsidizing everyday expenses (energy, clothing, food); underwriting education costs; and intensifying expenditures on and participation in cultural events (celebrations, ceremonies, and rituals). Drawing on Stephen Gudeman’s (2001) conceptual dialectic between the interactive realms of community and market economies, this article reflects on the impacts and implications of the growing flow of financial assistance. The focus here is on Fataluku-speaking households, whose members have been particularly likely to work overseas and send remittances home.
{"title":"Fataluku Labor Migration and Transnational Care in Timor-Leste","authors":"A. McWilliam, Carmeneza Dos Santos Monteiro","doi":"10.1353/IND.2019.0003","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1353/IND.2019.0003","url":null,"abstract":"Abstract:The emergence of a vibrant remittance economy in East Timor, generated by growing numbers of labor migrants working overseas, has been an unexpected feature of Timor-Leste’s post-Independence years. Formal and informal labor-migration schemes are part of this new economic landscape, and the remittance dollars that flow back to Timor-Leste are having profound, positive effects on communities there. Some of the striking impacts of this trend include funding house construction, renovations, and upgrades; subsidizing everyday expenses (energy, clothing, food); underwriting education costs; and intensifying expenditures on and participation in cultural events (celebrations, ceremonies, and rituals). Drawing on Stephen Gudeman’s (2001) conceptual dialectic between the interactive realms of community and market economies, this article reflects on the impacts and implications of the growing flow of financial assistance. The focus here is on Fataluku-speaking households, whose members have been particularly likely to work overseas and send remittances home.","PeriodicalId":41794,"journal":{"name":"Internetworking Indonesia","volume":null,"pages":null},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2019-06-19","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"81422029","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
Not so long ago it was common to hear that the “events of 1965”—to use a convenient but perhaps misleading shorthand—loomed ominously over the study of Indonesian politics. This view contained an obvious kernel of truth. The mass violence that left hundreds of thousands dead and many more lives shattered ushered in three decades of authoritarian rule. The founding myth of General Suharto’s regime was that the military, together with its civilian allies, acted to protect the nation from a communist takeover. Once in power, the Suharto regime employed the bogey of the latent “extreme left” paired with the fainter, parallel specter of the “extreme right” (i.e., political Islam) to legitimize the military’s role in politics and to set the icy parameters of political participation and discourse. At the same time, the suggestion that 1965’s events haunted the study of Indonesian politics was a polite way of indicating the paucity of scholarship on what all observers agreed to be a foundational period and tragic set of events of worldwide, historical significance. Indeed, during the thirty-two years Suharto ruled Indonesia, the events of 1965 received remarkably little attention from foreign scholars and virtually none from Indonesians themselves. Of the many reasons for this scholarly void during the long night of the New Order, three are worth noting. First, the Suharto regime (1966–98) tightly controlled research permits and banned the few foreign scholars who did speak out about the mass killings and detentions as a warning to others. As a result, few scholars who had invested time
{"title":"Mass Violence and Regime Change in Indonesia","authors":"D. Kammen","doi":"10.1353/IND.2019.0006","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1353/IND.2019.0006","url":null,"abstract":"Not so long ago it was common to hear that the “events of 1965”—to use a convenient but perhaps misleading shorthand—loomed ominously over the study of Indonesian politics. This view contained an obvious kernel of truth. The mass violence that left hundreds of thousands dead and many more lives shattered ushered in three decades of authoritarian rule. The founding myth of General Suharto’s regime was that the military, together with its civilian allies, acted to protect the nation from a communist takeover. Once in power, the Suharto regime employed the bogey of the latent “extreme left” paired with the fainter, parallel specter of the “extreme right” (i.e., political Islam) to legitimize the military’s role in politics and to set the icy parameters of political participation and discourse. At the same time, the suggestion that 1965’s events haunted the study of Indonesian politics was a polite way of indicating the paucity of scholarship on what all observers agreed to be a foundational period and tragic set of events of worldwide, historical significance. Indeed, during the thirty-two years Suharto ruled Indonesia, the events of 1965 received remarkably little attention from foreign scholars and virtually none from Indonesians themselves. Of the many reasons for this scholarly void during the long night of the New Order, three are worth noting. First, the Suharto regime (1966–98) tightly controlled research permits and banned the few foreign scholars who did speak out about the mass killings and detentions as a warning to others. As a result, few scholars who had invested time","PeriodicalId":41794,"journal":{"name":"Internetworking Indonesia","volume":null,"pages":null},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2019-06-19","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"89526702","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
The title of Hew Wai Weng’s ethnographic study, Chinese Ways of Being Muslim, captures immediately a crucial feature of the Indonesian Chinese Muslim experience. Dispersed throughout the archipelago, Chinese Muslims have responded to localized and historical trends in highly variable ways, so that ways of being Muslim are both diverse and individual. Clearly not a cohesive group, their treatment as an analytical category makes good sense for this study. Even so, who belongs in this category is still open to interpretation. Choosing to highlight diversity, Hew includes in his project not only individuals who self-identify as practicing Chinese Muslims, but also Chinese married to non-Chinese Muslims who no longer consider themselves Chinese, as well as Chinese converts who have become Muslim for practical reasons but are not religious in practice. Even within this wider framework, and despite the increased visibility and activism of Muslim Chinese, their numbers remain relatively small, estimated at only .5 to 1 percent of the Chinese Indonesian population (somewhere between thirty and fifty thousand individuals).
{"title":"Chinese Ways of Being Muslim: Negotiating Ethnicity and Religiosity in Indonesia by Hew Wai Weng (review)","authors":"S. Carstens","doi":"10.1353/IND.2018.0019","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1353/IND.2018.0019","url":null,"abstract":"The title of Hew Wai Weng’s ethnographic study, Chinese Ways of Being Muslim, captures immediately a crucial feature of the Indonesian Chinese Muslim experience. Dispersed throughout the archipelago, Chinese Muslims have responded to localized and historical trends in highly variable ways, so that ways of being Muslim are both diverse and individual. Clearly not a cohesive group, their treatment as an analytical category makes good sense for this study. Even so, who belongs in this category is still open to interpretation. Choosing to highlight diversity, Hew includes in his project not only individuals who self-identify as practicing Chinese Muslims, but also Chinese married to non-Chinese Muslims who no longer consider themselves Chinese, as well as Chinese converts who have become Muslim for practical reasons but are not religious in practice. Even within this wider framework, and despite the increased visibility and activism of Muslim Chinese, their numbers remain relatively small, estimated at only .5 to 1 percent of the Chinese Indonesian population (somewhere between thirty and fifty thousand individuals).","PeriodicalId":41794,"journal":{"name":"Internetworking Indonesia","volume":null,"pages":null},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2019-02-28","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"89362775","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
Abstract:This article seeks to understand and explain the discursive strategies used by far-right Islamist groups to popularize sentiment against Ahok (Basuki Tjahaja Purnama, former governor of Jakarta) and ruin his political career. This paper, which analyses the period when anti-Ahok rallies in Jakarta were common, blends three ideas. First, it discusses and reverses the logic of civil Islam, as put forth by Robert Hefner, to define far-right Islamist groups as uncivil. Second, it links uncivility with majoritarian insecurity and the way in which the politics of fear is used to mobilize majorities against minorities. Third, it discusses how and why uncivil groups use symbolic violence to ideologically attack minorities in order to manage the majorities' perceived insecurities. Three themes are discussed in this article. First, through Ahok's ethnic identification, Indonesian Chinese were conflated with China, communist ungodliness, and, thus, a quasi-demonic threat to Islam. Second, Ahok's rise to the governorship was framed as a dangerous symbol of the perceived ascendance of Indonesian Chinese to positions of political power. Third, Ahok was claimed to be leading the charge of a Christian takeover of Indonesia by co-opting abangan Muslims, such as Jokowi. This paper uses primary and secondary research, including interviews with key leaders of far-right Islamist groups. It concludes with implications for Indonesia's religio-political landscape.
{"title":"Fear and Loathing: Uncivil Islamism and Indonesia's Anti-Ahok Movement","authors":"M. Osman, Prashant Waikar","doi":"10.1353/IND.2018.0016","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1353/IND.2018.0016","url":null,"abstract":"Abstract:This article seeks to understand and explain the discursive strategies used by far-right Islamist groups to popularize sentiment against Ahok (Basuki Tjahaja Purnama, former governor of Jakarta) and ruin his political career. This paper, which analyses the period when anti-Ahok rallies in Jakarta were common, blends three ideas. First, it discusses and reverses the logic of civil Islam, as put forth by Robert Hefner, to define far-right Islamist groups as uncivil. Second, it links uncivility with majoritarian insecurity and the way in which the politics of fear is used to mobilize majorities against minorities. Third, it discusses how and why uncivil groups use symbolic violence to ideologically attack minorities in order to manage the majorities' perceived insecurities. Three themes are discussed in this article. First, through Ahok's ethnic identification, Indonesian Chinese were conflated with China, communist ungodliness, and, thus, a quasi-demonic threat to Islam. Second, Ahok's rise to the governorship was framed as a dangerous symbol of the perceived ascendance of Indonesian Chinese to positions of political power. Third, Ahok was claimed to be leading the charge of a Christian takeover of Indonesia by co-opting abangan Muslims, such as Jokowi. This paper uses primary and secondary research, including interviews with key leaders of far-right Islamist groups. It concludes with implications for Indonesia's religio-political landscape.","PeriodicalId":41794,"journal":{"name":"Internetworking Indonesia","volume":null,"pages":null},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2019-02-28","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"83129409","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
Abstract:After Aceh's implementation of regional regulations in 2006 that permit local authorities to enforce Islamic criminal bylaws (qanun jinayat), journalists in Aceh have struggled to reconcile the arguably universal principles of journalism with the particular obligations of their faith. The 2012 suicide of a young woman threw these concerns into sharp relief. When, before her death, the newspaper Prohaba labeled the sixteen year old a "whore" after her arrest by the Wilayatul Hisbah (shari‛a police), the Aceh chapter of the Alliance of Independent Journalists (AJI) called a press conference to criticize the paper for violating the 2006 Journalistic Code of Ethics. Although the Indonesian Press Council agreed with AJI, the newspaper's owners sued AJI for defamation, claiming that it had falsely blamed the paper for causing the suicide. The case, which was eventually settled out of court, and which, tellingly, resulted in the creation of KWPSI (the "Caucus of Journalists who defend Islamic shari‛a"), suggests that divisions within the journalists' community reflect a larger controversy within the public sphere. Just who should regulate the work of journalists? Was the Prohaba dispute really about defending shari‛a, or rather about siding with government authorities and defending the reputation of Aceh's biggest and most powerful newspaper company? Differing views of the relationship between journalism and Islam are apparent in the competing ethical standards that have emerged in these and other debates over reporting on the implementation of Islamic criminal bylaws in Aceh.
{"title":"\"Doesn't Everyone Support Shariʿa?\": Journalism and Competing Ethical Standards in Aceh, Indonesia","authors":"Janet Steele","doi":"10.1353/IND.2018.0014","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1353/IND.2018.0014","url":null,"abstract":"Abstract:After Aceh's implementation of regional regulations in 2006 that permit local authorities to enforce Islamic criminal bylaws (qanun jinayat), journalists in Aceh have struggled to reconcile the arguably universal principles of journalism with the particular obligations of their faith. The 2012 suicide of a young woman threw these concerns into sharp relief. When, before her death, the newspaper Prohaba labeled the sixteen year old a \"whore\" after her arrest by the Wilayatul Hisbah (shari‛a police), the Aceh chapter of the Alliance of Independent Journalists (AJI) called a press conference to criticize the paper for violating the 2006 Journalistic Code of Ethics. Although the Indonesian Press Council agreed with AJI, the newspaper's owners sued AJI for defamation, claiming that it had falsely blamed the paper for causing the suicide. The case, which was eventually settled out of court, and which, tellingly, resulted in the creation of KWPSI (the \"Caucus of Journalists who defend Islamic shari‛a\"), suggests that divisions within the journalists' community reflect a larger controversy within the public sphere. Just who should regulate the work of journalists? Was the Prohaba dispute really about defending shari‛a, or rather about siding with government authorities and defending the reputation of Aceh's biggest and most powerful newspaper company? Differing views of the relationship between journalism and Islam are apparent in the competing ethical standards that have emerged in these and other debates over reporting on the implementation of Islamic criminal bylaws in Aceh.","PeriodicalId":41794,"journal":{"name":"Internetworking Indonesia","volume":null,"pages":null},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2019-02-28","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"72645122","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
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