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The history of thought is an elusive area to write about. It has many holes where writers are trapped into making generalizations or simplifications. However, generalizations and simplifications are sometimes necessary in giving an intelligible picture of the complex phenomenon of human thought. There is, however, a danger that it tends to give a distorted version of human history. Various books on Islamic thought fall into this trap through generalizing or simplifying its complexity into various ideological categories such as “modernist”, “traditionalist”, “revivalist”, “neo-modernist”, and so on. There is a certain element of truth in these categories, but the history of thought is not a mere history of ideology. As Karl Mannheim argues, political thought will not adequately be understood without an appreciation of the role of utopia. It is disappointing that many studies on Islamic thought in Indonesia heavily emphasize political ideologies without due consideration of Muslim utopia.
This study is an attempt to fill this gap by addressing Islamic political thought in terms of the role of utopia. Utopia has played a great role in determining political discourse in the country. Since the very beginning of the era of national resurgence (era kebangkitan nasional or nahdah in the Arab context), Indonesian Muslims have been daunted by the ideal model of polity. The model of polity, as Macpherson argues, is the most practical idea of utopia. This study has examined Muslim models of polity in Indonesia since independence. It has found three dominant models that reflect Muslims’ political understanding and attitudes towards various religious-political issues. These three models have played a crucial role in developing Islamic political thinking in contemporary Indonesia. Various arguments and explanations about major ideas such as democracy, pluralism, liberalism, freedom, and gender equality, cannot be properly understood without an exploration of Muslim conceptualization of a model of polity; a utopia.
In its September 2004 edition, the New Statesman addressed a provocative question: Can Islam change? The article, which was written by renowned Muslim scholar Ziauddin Sardar, gave a clear answer: Islam is indeed able to change. What Sardar meant by “Islam” was primarily shari‘ah or Islamic law. It is shari‘ah that regulates Muslims’ heavenly and worldly matters. For several decades and particularly since September 11, Sardar argues, Muslim reformists have persistently questioned the conservative Islamic doctrines rooted in shari‘ah. From Morocco to Indonesia, Muslim reformists “are acknowledging the need for fundamental change in their perception of Islam. They are making conscious efforts to move away from medieval notions of Islamic law and to implement the vision of justice, equality and beauty that is rooted in the Koran”. Sardar and many “non-essentialist” scholars would argue that Islam is really able to change. Like many other religions, Islam is a product of history and civilization. It was created and developed within the dialectical events of human history. Therefore, change is unavoidable.
Since the early nineteenth century, Muslim reformists have been arguing for the compatibility of Islam and modernity. They believed that Islam is a dynamic religion which can go through the challenges of human history. Islam is a universal religion whose claim of being “valid for all times and places” (salih li kulli zaman wa makan) attests that it is amenable to both change and reform. Reform (islah) is believed to be an integral part of Islam, partly because there is a Prophetic tradition that says “at the beginning of every century, God will send to this community someone who will renew religion”. Various rational concepts in Islamic jurisprudence, such as ijtihad (reasoning) and maslahah (public interest), attest to Islam' readiness for change. Unlike the “essentialists”, Muslim reformists firmly believe that “Islam reformed is still Islam.”
The will to establish an independent nation-state based on Islam and democracy had resonated since pre-independence times. As we have seen in Chapter 2, the idea of “nation-state” was broadly accepted by Indonesian Muslims as an ideal political system, despite the fact that they were under non-Muslim colonial rulers on the one hand, and under the influence of the pan-Islamic movement in the Middle East on the other. During the first quarter of the twentieth century the idea of independence had already been stated by many nationalist leaders. Various social and political movements which emerged during this time were aiming primarily at gaining independence from the Dutch. Two approaches were taken by those nationalist movements: the cooperative basis and the non-cooperative one. While the former sought for independence through diplomatic methods, by appealing to the Dutch government from within (represented by their participation in Volksraad), the latter pursued it from without by fighting the colonialist domination and seeking international support. Indonesian Muslim leaders were confident that they would obtain an independent nation-state, sooner or later.
However, after the mid-1930s, the struggle for independence on the non-cooperative basis had already reached its demise. The Dutch colonial government arrested all radical political activists who opposed cooperation. In 1933, Soekarno (1901–70) was arrested and exiled to Flores. In the same year, two non-cooperative Muslim leaders, Muchtar Luthfi (1900–50) and Iljas Jacub (b. 1903), were also arrested and expelled to Boven Digul. The only way to realize Indonesian independence was through cooperation, which the Greater Indonesian Party (Parindra, Partai Indonesia Raya) aspired to achieve. But the leaders of this party were mostly secularists and some of them were, in fact, anti-Islam. Muslim leaders were consequently not interested in joining this party. Nevertheless, in 1936, Agus Salim (1884–1954) began to set up a cooperative faction called the Awareness Front (Barisan Penyadar) within the non-cooperative PSII (Partai Sarikat Islam Indonesia, or Islamic Political Association of Indonesia). However, his efforts were soon proven to have failed as he was ousted from the party a year later.
We have seen that Model 1 failed to become an alternative model of an ideal government in Indonesia. The model' vision of the state-religion relationship is not applicable to the Indonesian pluralist community. Mohammad Natsir' and Zainal Abidin Ahmad' view of equality and of minority political rights is not conducive to a democratic state, which requires complete equality for all citizens. Model 1 is likely to be suitable only for a Muslim majority with a homogeneous understanding of Islam, and with a minority which is ready to live with such an understanding. In reality, such a condition is obviously difficult, if not impossible, to find.
The next two models which I will discuss in this chapter and the next are immediate responses to the prevailing failed model. Both models agree on the importance of equality as the basic principle of political pluralism. However, both differ in their view of the relationship between religion and the state. While one suggests the crucial role of the state in determining people' religious life, the other proposes that the state be neutral. The two models, which I call the “Religious Democratic State” (RDS) and the “Liberal Democratic State” (LDS), emerged at the same time, yet they developed dynamically on different trajectories. While the former was dominant in the Soeharto era and was widely welcomed by most Muslims, the latter remains limited to intellectual discourse, particularly among the younger Muslim generation.
THE EMERGENCE OF THE MODEL
Generally speaking, Model 2 is an attempt by the younger generation of santri Muslims to justify the model of polity built by the New Order regime. The word “justify” is perhaps not entirely appropriate, since it has a negative connotation. However, it is not entirely inaccurate since many of the exponents of Model 2 were directly or indirectly supporting Soeharto in his project to build a new government. As we will soon see, many exponents of Model 2 joined him in building the country.
This chapter will discuss the current developments of Muslim political thought. It will highlight the attitude of Muslim intellectuals towards political issues in Indonesia, particularly since the post-Soeharto era. The chapter will also examine the trajectories of the models of polity discussed in the previous chapters. As I have said in Chapter 1, the history of Islamic political thinking in Indonesia is the history of moderation and progress. This process, I argue, is attested by the increasing trend of liberal political attitudes. I will divide this chapter into three main sections, reflecting the elaboration of the three models of polity. In the last three chapters I discussed the three models chronologically. In this chapter, I will address them all together within one period of time. However, before we explore these three contesting models, let me first discuss the social and political background of the post-Soeharto era.
ISLAMIC POLITICAL DISCOURSE AFTER 1998
The fall of the Soeharto regime in 1998 signified many things for the Indonesian people. In the first place, it was hoped that the resignation of the powerful man who had ruled the country for more than thirty years would bring better political and economic conditions to the country. Politically speaking, Indonesia has indeed made significant progress, particularly if by “progress” we mean a move towards democratization. For the first time in three decades, Indonesian citizens felt free to express their political opinions, set up political parties, and openly criticize the government. Greater freedom of expression and opinion was the immediate advantage Indonesian citizens gained in this transition process to democracy. Press freedom was the first kind of freedom achieved. More than 800 newspapers and magazines were established within the first nine months of the downfall of the regime. Radio and television stations were suddenly out of control in broadcasting any issues that could possibly bring up their ratings. These media played a crucial role in disseminating information, not only about political change and the agenda of reformasi, but also sociocultural as well as religious-political issues in general. Intellectuals and religious leaders have eagerly used such media to air their divergent views. The mass media has now become a major arena for contesting thoughts and ideas.
For the last ten years, popular and academic books on Islam revolve around various aspects of Islamic radicalism. There seems to be no analysis of Islam unless it is rendered with the phenomenon of Islamic radicalism. Books on Indonesian Islam are no exception. The outbreak of religious conflicts since 1998 and a series of atrocious bombings in Bali and other places, only ensure that writers have nothing more relevant to speak about Islam other than its violent aspects. This book is different. It confronts the current media hype over the phenomenon of radical Islam in Indonesia. It presents a very fundamental inquiry about Indonesian Islam — once described as tolerant, peaceful, and “different from the Middle East” — as to whether it has been absorbed by the global wave of religious fundamentalism.
One argument that I make in this book is that throughout the last fifty years, Indonesian Islam has undergone tremendous development and made progress towards a more pluralist and democratic system of polity. To put it in a comparative historical perspective, Indonesian Muslims are politically more pragmatic and rational. This assumption obviously needs ground on which one can hold its validity. In this book, I argue that there is no better measurement to judge the religio-political attitude of Indonesian Muslims than the general election. Since independence, Indonesian people have gone through several elections, of which three were democratically held: in 1955, 1999, and 2004. Comparing these three general elections, we get a different picture of Indonesian Islam. Instead of becoming more ideological, the religio-political attitude of Indonesian Muslims is increasingly pragmatic. The last two general elections (1999 and 2004) distinctly showed that Islamic political parties have failed to improve on the record that they achieved in 1955 (43 per cent). Together, Islamic parties only obtained 14 per cent (in 1999) and 17 per cent (2004) of the total votes.
Model 3, which will be discussed in this chapter, is a response to various problems of the religion-state relationship that arose in Model 2. It fundamentally criticizes the hegemonic position of the state over people' religious activities and radically attempts to present a more feasible format of the religion-state relationship for Indonesia. Like Model 2, Model 3 departs from the sociological construct that Indonesia is a pluralist country and that any attempt to establish national integrity must, therefore, be in line with the principles of pluralism. For Model 2, the principle of pluralism lies in religious awareness and the importance of the role of the state in maintaining people' religions. Greatly dependent on the state, they reject the idea of secularization. For Model 3, on the other hand, the principle of pluralism lies in the separation of the role of religion and the state. Pluralism, this model argues, would not work properly if the state interferes too much in people' religious activities.
This chapter will discuss Model 3 in the light of divergences between the two models. It first examines the intellectual origins of the model and how this model is fundamentally different from the previous ones. To make the comparison and the argument consistent, I will examine the same problems addressed in the previous model, namely the perception of secularization, the problem of religion-state relationship, the attitude towards religious pluralism, and the conception of an alternative economic system.
INTELLECTUAL ROOTS OF THE MODEL
In contemporary discourse on political philosophy in the West, the idea of the minimal state has been portrayed as paragon of a liberal state. Robert Nozick, the most respected thinker of this idea, believes that the less the state interferes in people' affairs, the better the state will function.
This book is about political thought, particularly about Islamic political thought as demonstrated by Indonesian Muslims since independence. It deals mainly with political change and how Muslims develop their arguments in facing it. The main questions I am concerned with in this study are: Why, for example, did many Muslims in Indonesia in the 1930s reject the idea of nationalism and ten years later accept it? Why did many Muslims in the 1950s demand an Islamic state, but twenty years later refuse it? Why did they in the 1970s strongly reject the idea of secularism, but thirty years later begin to accept it?
The same questions can be asked regarding the growing acceptance by Muslims of various political concepts such as democracy, pluralism, and human rights. One of the basic hypotheses that I propose in this study is that Islamic arguments that are developed in intellectual forums, publications, and academic circles play a significant role. An Islamic argument on certain political issues would be cast away when a viable new argument appeared. Muslim acceptance or rejection of certain concepts depends highly on whether or not an argument is theologically and logically justifiable. Argument, as Neta Crawford has stated, is a real component in social and political change. Its role is as important as military force.
To examine the above hypothesis, this study focuses on Indonesian Muslims’ conception on the ideal model of polity. I will examine three generations of Muslim intellectuals since independence. My main aim is to demonstrate that there has been a development of arguments among Muslim intellectuals. A model of polity is the most universal political thought that can embrace political concepts. By studying models of polity, we are not only identifying the variety of religious-political groups among Indonesian Muslims, but also discovering the dynamics of Islamic political thinking. As I will demonstrate, the history of Islamic political thought in Indonesia is the history of progress and transformation towards moderation.
The failure of the New Order regime to fully comprehend the consequences of being an inseparable part of the global economy might well be one of the major factors for the downfall of Soeharto. At the time, the Western powers as well as the World Bank, the IMF, and other international financial bodies saw the strategic geographical and political positions of Indonesia and they eagerly supported Indonesia's economic development efforts. With their support, the newly established New Order government not only could feel secure with the rather pro-West posture of its “independent and active” foreign policy, but it also made the decisive choice of joining the global market economy. In the controversy between “growth” and “equity” or, to put it in more ideologically tinted terms, “prosperity” and “social justice”, in the basic development strategy that took place in the early period of its era, the New Order had definitively chosen the first alternative. The choice was made in the hope that the “trickle down effects” of the strategy would gradually expand the sphere of prosperity to the general populace. The regime found out too late the probable negative consequences of the chosen alternative. The financial and monetary crises that took place in other countries could have its direct impact on the economic fundamentals of Indonesia.
The destruction of the Berlin wall and the successive dramatic events that finally led to the breakup of the Soviet Union and the termination of the Cold War definitely changed the political constellation of the world. The success of the People's Power to topple President Marcos of the Philippines suddenly showed to the people that the entrenched political and economic oligarchy had its limit. These dramatic events might not lead to “the end of history”, as a famous book emphasizes, but to Indonesia, they revealed the awkward relationship between economic liberalization and the authoritarian political system in Indonesia's New Order.
When Abdoel Rivai began the propagation of the idea of “kemajuan” and the need to enter into “the world of progress”, the colonial war in Aceh had just been “officially” concluded (1904). The capture of Panglima Polem (the leader of the opposition after the death of Teungku Cik di Tiro) and Cut Nyak Dien, the legendary heroine, has usually been taken as the end of the longest and bloodiest colonial war in the Indonesian archipelago. With the capture of the two leaders, the colonial war in Aceh that started in 1872, after the Dutch signed the London Treaty with the British, which gave the former the exclusive right to Sumatra, had officially concluded. To the rural population of Aceh, however, the war had not really ended. Until the late 1920s, the so-called “Aceh murder” still took place here and there. Cases where suddenly an Acehnese warrior emerged from the bush or from among the crowd in the market to kill a Dutch official in sight could still occasionally occur. The long colonial war had given the Acehenese not only the heroes they could be proud of, but also a deeply entrenched tradition of resistance to the kafir government, the infidel.
The continuing opposition to the imposed power of the foreign intruders also took place in the other regions. Not long after the official termination of the “pacification campaign” in Aceh, another type of colonial expansion campaign took place in the other parts of the archipelago. In Bali, the royal families of Klungkung preferred to face death by conducting the puputan, ceremonial death, rather than letting themselves be subjugated to the wishes of the advancing power of the Netherlands Indies. These puputan affairs had from the beginning been well stored in the Balinese collective memories. The long period — almost one hundred years (1810–1907) — of the efforts of the Dutch, who had occupied Makassar since the late 17th century, to establish their authority in the small kingdoms of South Sulawesi, is also a part of the collective memories of the local population. In 1905 the Dutch troops attacked the kingdom of Bone and exiled its king. Soon after that, the colonial government managed to seize the kingdom of Gowa.
It is one of the controversial events in the contemporary history of Indonesia. It took place on 17 October 1952 at the Merdeka Palace. Thousands of demonstrators, who had on their way almost ransacked the parliament building, were rallying in front of the Merdeka Palace. President Sukarno received five representatives of the demonstrators and asked them what they were after. He strongly advised them to disperse. In the meantime, the army's artillery troop was on a combat ready mode in front of the palace. Were the soldiers threatening the President — as Sukarno seemed to believe — or protecting him — as the former commander of the troop claimed? Soon after that, a group of high ranking army officers, led by the Chief-of-Staff of the Army, Colonel A.H. Nasution, and the Chief-of-Staff of the Armed Forces, Colonel T.B. Simatupang, accompanied by the Minister of Defence, Sultan Hamengkubuwono IX, came to see the President. The officers supported the demands of the demonstrators. They requested President Sukarno to dissolve the Provisional Parliament and to take complete power in his hands temporarily. They were very much annoyed and offended by the alleged interference of the civilian politicians, particularly those from the PNI (Nationalist Party) faction in the parliament, in the army's internal affairs. They saw the interference as the stumbling block to the modernization process of the revolutionary army. In the heated debate that took place between President Sukarno, who was by that time already accompanied by Vice-President Hatta and several ministers, and the high ranking officers, their demands were rejected.
Respecting Sukarno, the President/the Supreme Commander, the officers allowed him to address the cheering crowd, who were actually mobilized by certain elements in the army to stage such a demonstration. Flanked by the high officers and high officials, President Sukarno addressed the crowd. It was a great extemporaneous speech. He refused to dissolve the parliament and told the crowd to disperse. Although the speech was unrecorded, Sukarno uttered an unforgettable sentence, “I don't want to be a dictator.” That was one of Sukarno's brightest moments as the prominent national leader.
From the moment we began talking about nation-building in Southeast Asia, we all knew that Indonesia's story will be special and that Taufik Abdullah would have the toughest assignment in order to do that subject justice. This is not only because Indonesia covers the most land and water and has the largest population in the region, not even because it has the largest number of different sukubangsa (ethnic groups) each with its own ruling elites. It was also because the forces that projected a revolutionary ideal of nationhood also rejected the promise of order and stability offered by colonial state structures and insisted on providing the new republic with their own founding myths. Thus, although the origins of the Indonesian ideal may be dated half a century before 1945, the nation remained for a long time an indistinct word-image and, until after the Second World War, consisted only of a few bright outlines of future unity in the minds of a small intelligentsia.
The image was brought to life between 1945 and 1950 through proclamations of independence and the bloodshed that came from a series of revolutionary actions. These together served as the country's inspiration for Indonesia's first decade. Nevertheless, underlying the call for a people's revolution was the idea of a democratic modernity. The Angkatan ‘45 (Generation of 1945) that drew the first blueprint of nationhood had no doubts that the country would build the nation through democratic means. What had eluded them was the nature of democracy, something that had never been practiced when their lands were under Dutch or Japanese rule. It was also something that the military leaders who fought for their freedom were prepared ultimately to leave to the civilian leaders to define.
As it turned out, the first decade of experimentation ended in disarray and the country's first President, Sukarno, intervened with his idea of guided democracy. It was a fateful decision. Although he was unable to carry through his particular vision of presidential rule, he left that legacy for his successor. When the aborted Gestapu coup of 1965 brought about his downfall, it did not free the country from the “guided” structure of power that Sukarno had initiated.