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PURIFYING ISLAM IN POST-AUTHORITARIAN INDONESIA: CORPORATIST METAPHORS AND THE RISE OF RELIGIOUS INTOLERANCE MARY E. MCCOY

Following a democratic uprising in 1998, the Muslim-majority nation of Indonesia embarked on a transition from four decades of authoritarian rule to become the world’s third largest democracy. A recent surge in religious intolerance, however, has sparked concern over an apparent backlash against the political and religious pluralism of the new democratic era. As the world looks to this vast country of 237 million as a model for other Muslim nations now rebelling against their own dictatorships, it is important to understand this political turn marked by a growing incapacity to deal with otherness. This article examines public discourse surrounding accelerating attacks on religious minorities in Indonesia to provide insight into a similar rise in intolerance worldwide, and to address a pressing question for many rhetoric scholars: how does religion work to legitimate or eliminate violence?

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s Tunisia, Egypt, Libya, Yemen, and possibly Syria embark on transitions from authoritarian rule in the wake of the Arab Spring, those who harbor doubts over the compatibility of Islam and democracy are asking whether majority-Muslim nations can achieve

MARY E. MCCOY is a Research Associate in the Center for Southeast Asian Studies at the University of Wisconsin, Madison. © 2013 Michigan State University Board of Trustees. All rights reserved. Rhetoric & Public Affairs Vol. 16, No. 2, 2013, pp. 000–000. ISSN 1094-8392.

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RHETORIC & PUBLIC AFFAIRS

true transitions, avoiding a slide into new forms of authoritarianism that may be imposed by religious radicals. The killings of Egypt’s Coptic Christians in the riots of October 2011 and the stunning 72 percent majority won by the country’s Islamist parties in the January 2012 elections have raised questions about democracy’s future in the aftermath of the Arab Spring.1 Indonesia, as the largest majority-Muslim nation in the world and the demographic heart of global Islam, is now being cited as a model for successful democratic transition following the fall of the dictator, President Suharto, in 1998.2 Beneath the surface of this success, however, a recent rise in Muslim-led religious intolerance is sparking concerns over an apparent backlash against the liberalism and religious pluralism of the democratic era.3 Leaving aside the much-debated question of Islam’s ultimate compatibility with democracy, this article argues that to understand this growing intolerance as an anti-democratic force in Indonesia we must fırst examine the reemergence of “corporatism,” a statist, totalitarian ideology long dominant under Suharto, that now, following a period of postdictatorship dormancy, is reappearing in Islamic guise. A particular class of metaphors one could call corporatist, or corporeal, is central to understanding the operation of an embodied rhetoric distinctive to this ideology.4 Although used to justify political repression under Suharto, this rhetoric also served, ironically, to foster religious tolerance. This essay examines how, in the present era, the appropriation and repurposing of these same metaphors have aided Muslim fundamentalists in pursuing a different kind of repression, transforming corporatism itself into “an ideology of difference,” to use Edward Said’s term,5 that makes the nation synonymous with the Islamic ummat (community of believers) and thus needing purifıcation from Western values and internal heretical elements.6 More broadly, analyzing the metaphorical base common to Suharto’s corporatist rhetoric and current justifıcations for minority persecution sheds light on an intolerance that appears to be spreading despite widespread support for democracy and declining support for radicalism,7 and the nation’s historical commitment to ethnic, religious, and cultural pluralism, immortalized in the state motto “Unity in Diversity,” and embedded in the offıcial state ideology called Pancasila.8

PURIFYING ISLAM IN POST-AUTHORITARIAN INDONESIA

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METAPHORICAL FOUNDATIONS OF VIOLENCE Corporatism writ is largely a political ideology that casts government and society as a harmonious whole wherein all divisions disappear and all interests converge. Reflecting its Latin root corpus, corporatism constructs the nation as a corporeal entity—a living organism or, alternatively, a family. Within such a polity, often called an “organic state,” the group takes precedence over the individual as citizens and state merge into one body headed by a wise leader, generally a father fıgure, who embodies the spirit of the people and, as such, can divine their collective will. During his reign, Suharto used an Indonesian variant of this ideology, “integralism,” to justify authoritarianism, casting nation and society as a unifıed entity that demanded total integration and cooperation among all sectors of society and all branches of government. Such unity was necessary to maintain stability in a nation of extraordinary ethnic, religious, and cultural diversity that made it inherently prone, he argued, to the outbreak of civil conflict. With similar logic, Suharto also regularly invoked the state ideology, Pancasila (literally “fıve pillars”), to defend his authoritarianism, particularly its emphasis on unity and unanimity in its third and fourth pillars.9 In postauthoritarian Indonesia, both radical and mainstream religious leaders, backed by allies in government and state security, are again using a harmony-and-stability rhetoric to justify repression, arguing that certain religious groups are threatening public order by proselytizing or otherwise insulting Islam. Their condemnations have been aimed primarily at minority Muslim sects but, through myriad acts of discrimination, Muslim extremists also have targeted Christians and other non-Muslims.10 What makes this recurrence interesting at a more universal level is the return not of a harmony rhetoric per se but rather of the corporeal metaphors underlying this rhetoric—specifıcally, certain root or master metaphors common to both political authoritarianism and religious intolerance that construct communities as a body or family circumscribed by national, religious, ethnic, or other boundaries. Thus, in understanding the growing acceptance of the persecution of religious minorities among Indonesians, it is important to acknowledge that metaphors matter. As George Lakoff and Mark E. Johnson explain, “Metaphors . . . create realities for us, especially social realities,” and serve as “guide[s] for future action” that will “fıt the metaphor.” When such actions “reinforce the power of the metaphor to

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make experience coherent,” they can become “self-fulfılling prophecies.”11 Citing Kenneth Burke’s theory of dramatism, Robert Ivie goes further, arguing that metaphors not only shape our realities and guide future action but also operate “heuristically to develop perspectives or general frames of acceptance out of which tragic orientations toward perfectly evil Others will emerge”— orientations, he continues, that “lead readily to deadly ‘victimage’ rituals such as war.”12 On victimage in the sacred sphere, J. Harold Ellens states succinctly, “Religious metaphors can kill.”13 The corporeal metaphors that often dominate the statist rhetoric of political authoritarianism have been labeled both “corporatist” and “organic.”14 But they also belong to a broader category of “container” metaphors that, in turn, can be classed among what Lakoff and Johnson call “ontological metaphors . . . grounded by virtue of systematic correlates within our experience.”15 Suharto’s corporatist metaphors were deeply ontological—portraying the nation as a body or a family ever-threatened by lurking Communists and thereby justifying the massacre of half a million to a million suspected Communists in 1965–1966, a subsequent decade of public trials for survivors, and ever-expanding blacklists that ostracized still millions more.16 Today, metaphorical construction of Islam as something inviolate and bounded, both a set of beliefs and a community of believers threatened by blasphemers and corrupting Western influences, is also shaping perspectives to justify attacks on those defıned as Other—specifıcally, as “outside Islam.”17 In these constructions, Islam is portrayed as a container, sometimes inanimate (such as a “house”),18 but most often one with biological properties that leave it vulnerable to the same threats a human body might face, such as infection, defılement, and assault.19 This combination of the bounded and the biological is signifıcant. Corporeal metaphors more broadly are common to many religions, including Christianity, which describes the church as a body with Jesus as its head. Yet in Indonesia, these fıgures are being used simultaneously as container metaphors to redefıne national boundaries as coterminous with imagined borders of a unifıed Muslim community, portraying the nation as of the same body and thereby equally threatened by heresy and other moral deviance. Thus, it is neither container nor body imagery alone, but rather the convergence of the two, combined with images of purity, that appears most potent in fostering rising intolerance, encouraging the envisioning of a


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religious-cum-national community as both body and container that must be protected from external invasion and internal disintegration. Most critically, it is the ontological nature of these constructions of religious communities that fosters the tragic orientations Ivie cites and not only makes persecution of religious minorities seem permissible, but also can, over time, make them seem necessary. More specifıcally, if one begins to imagine one’s faith and community as a physical body and then perceives a group as threatening this body with contamination or disease, the continued presence of this group may come to feel intolerable, making expelling the group from the body seem the only solution.

THE ORIGINS OF CORPORATISM IN INDONESIA Understanding the role of metaphor in Indonesia’s rising religious intolerance begins with a return to corporatist visions articulated during the original constitutional debates of 1945 and then revived to legitimate later shifts from democracy to authoritarianism. To varying degrees, corporatism tends to undergird all authoritarian state rule, although its linguistic markers may be more pronounced in some systems than others.20 In Indonesia, two such visions have shaped the country’s imagining from its anti-colonial origins to the present. In the fırst, Indonesia defıned itself as a vast community of the faithful united by belief in one all-powerful God21—a mandate forming the fırst principle of Pancasila, which, in turn, is the centerpiece of the constitution’s preamble. This principle, however, actually represents a compromise crafted by founder and later president Ahmed Sukarno, who needed to appease Muslim leaders demanding an Islamic state. Accepting Sukarno’s argument that defeating the Dutch would require unbroken solidarity among all groups, including non-Muslims, these leaders settled for the guarantee in Pancasila of a nondenominational but faith-based state. Thus, while the one-God principle imposed uniformity in requiring religious faith by all citizens, in practice it became a clause establishing respect for religious pluralism as a defıning element of the Indonesian nation. Freedom of religion itself was then spelled out in chapter 29 of the constitution: “The State guarantees all persons the freedom of worship, each according to his/her own religion or belief.”22

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The nation’s second corporatist vision also embraced religious, ethnic, and cultural pluralism but rejected political pluralism, thereby imagining the nation as an organic entity united by a common cause of independence from the Dutch and committed to a uniquely Indonesian form of democracy. This vision incorporated all Indonesians on the principle of jus soli (right of the soil) and cast the national community as both a body bounded by geography and a giant, harmonious family.23 This latter construction became known as kekeluargaan, or “family-ism,” although the underlying corporatist ideology for both metaphors was dubbed “integralism” by one of the 1945 constitution’s key architects, Raden Supomo.24 The word “integralism” itself never entered the constitution but found expression in Pancasila’s emphasis on unity and “consensus” (mufakat) in the third and fourth pillars. These pillars, and the imperative to maintain religious, ethnic, and intercultural harmony, became the basis under Indonesia’s second president, General Raden Suharto, for suppressing dissent and eliminating competing centers of power. Finally, Suharto’s consolidation of power was aided by the dual fears of external threat and internal fragmentation that had plagued Indonesia from its foundation in 1945. When he seized control of the country in 1965–1966 through a military-led anti-Communist massacre, his regime portrayed the killings as a spontaneous outbreak of civil war. The trauma sowed widespread fear among citizens of more violence, reinforced by characterizations of Indonesians, at home and abroad, as prone to “run amok.”25 Through these events and Suharto’s subsequent depiction of the country as a simmering cauldron of latent conflict, the regime transformed Pancasila into an ideological imperative to maintain societal harmony at all costs. Simultaneously, Suharto revived the corporatist vision from the constitutional debates of the nation as a harmonious whole and decreed that Indonesians would now advance by eschewing politics, celebrating “Unity in Diversity,” and sacrifıcing personal interests. In Suharto’s corporatism, respect for religious and cultural pluralism was paramount and inculcated in Indonesians from an early age. Even while promoting such tolerance, however, Suharto used the specter of a common enemy to vilify the former Communist Party (PKI), along with all those unfortunate enough to bear any association with it, and to justify a systematic, nation-wide purge. Suharto’s indisputable success not just in disbanding the PKI but in eradicating nearly all traces of its existence may make his rhetoric of


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tolerance seem disingenuous, and his untiring pursuit of possible holdouts seem an almost irrational overkill. In his critique of the regime’s simultaneous discrimination against ethnic Chinese, however, Andrew Abalahin argues that Suharto was still forming Indonesia’s identity as a coherent nation-state long after taking power, and reminds us of the vital importance of an imagined enemy in any such project. “The solidarity demanded by the nation-state of its citizenry,” he notes, “seems to rely upon a ‘fıction of unanimity,’” and the guiding principle in achieving such solidarity “is exclusion rather than inclusion.” Critical in this endeavor, Abalahin concludes, is the “construction of an extra-national Other, the ‘traitor among us.’”26 With the cooperation of the largest Muslim organizations in cleansing the nation of Communist “infıdels,” the PKI became the ideal Other for forging solidarity and blocking competing agendas, including lingering aspirations of some groups to establish an Islamic state. It was through this relentless anti-Communist campaign that Suharto consolidated power. Over time, as the specter of the PKI faded and new enemies had to be identifıed, the regime turned to the national ideology for help. “Deviance” was redefıned to include any opinions or behavior that could be construed as a threat to Pancasila’s mandate for unity and consensus, making Pancasila the negative space for this redefıning. Leftist ideas were antiPancasila. Partisan politics and freedom of speech became anti-Pancasila. Even parliamentary voting by secret ballot—which Suharto condemned for pitting winners against losers—became anti-Pancasila.27 During his reign, Suharto’s corporatist Pancasila vision of the nation was manifest in his construction of state and society as both a harmonious family and a body ever-threatened by latent communism, his perpetual campaign to purge the national family/body of Communists, his stifling of dissent, his incorporation of nearly all societal organizations and interest groups into the state apparatus, and his transformation of Pancasila into an ideology of political intolerance. By the 1990s, however, the national context had changed, and with it the potency of the corporatist metaphors of body and family that legitimated Suharto’s repression. First, the incessant warnings of dormant PKI threats to the body politic had grown hollow. Moreover, the metaphors themselves lost some of their effıcacy as the focus of state stigmatization shifted from guilt-by-association to behavior—specifıcally, anti-Pancasila behavior. Simultaneously, much of the power of the family metaphor had come from Suharto’s own construction of himself as a

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strongman father fıgure needed to keep the nation from descending into civil war. But by this time, even assumptions of endemic instability had lost credence. Activists from secular as well as religious (particularly Muslim) organizations joined forces to advocate for democratic reform. Thus in the 1990s, amidst rising pressures for reform, Suharto struggled to fınd new ways to divide the opposition, including agent-provocateur operations to stoke inter-religious conflict and to foment violence against the ethnic Chinese. But after the 1997 Asian economic crisis and his legitimacy as “Father of Development” began to crumble, Indonesians of all religions, ethnicities, politics, and socioeconomic status turned on the regime en masse and united, for a time, behind a singular project of democratization. POST-SUHARTO CORPORATISM

After Suharto’s forced resignation in 1998, the country adopted a pluralist, liberal-democratic model of government, opening electoral contestation to all comers and unshackling society from decades of constraints on political activism and public expression. Indonesians used this freedom to critique Suharto-era rhetoric, including the regime’s use of Pancasila as a tool of repression, stripping it of much of its majesty and mystique. Cell phone and computer use expanded exponentially to make Indonesia today the fourth highest in Facebook users worldwide and fıfth highest in Twitter subscribers, with Jakarta now the “most active Twitter city.”28 A proliferation of political parties, new media, and societal organizations greatly expanded public participation in the transformation. Signifıcantly, between 1999 and 2002, citizen-government partnerships won passage of nearly three dozen constitutional amendments that strengthened the government’s internal checks and balances and laid down new protections for civil rights—including Article 28E (the Second Amendment), in 2000, and Article 28I, amended in 2001 and again in 2002—all guaranteeing, in varying words, every Indonesian’s right to freedom of religion.29 By the end of 2009, the country had weathered three democratic elections, passing Samuel Huntington’s “two-consecutive-election” benchmark for assessing the longterm viability of democratic transition.30 Through the fırst six years of reform, a climate conducive to pluralism and intergroup tolerance thus seemed ascendant. Fears fostered by Suharto


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that political liberalization would plunge the country into sectarian violence proved unfounded, and both relative stability and economic growth boded well for continued democratization.31 However, following the 2004 presidential elections that transferred power from the secular-nationalist daughter of Indonesia’s fırst president, Megawati Sukarnoputri, to the current president, General Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono, the country began seeing a rise in aggression by militant Islamist groups against religious minorities. In particular, a small Muslim sect called Ahmadiyah has been the target of escalating persecution, generating a growing sense of crisis for the nation and the local communities most affected. This rise in fundamentalism has been linked to, variously, globalization, decentralization, anti-Americanism, identity fragmentation, and democratization itself32—with the latter raising the question of whether Suharto might have been right in his warnings that liberal democracy would unleash latent primordialism. But within these larger trends, another factor has emerged—a discourse mixing corporeal and container metaphors, reminiscent of Suharto’s corporatist rhetoric, but now constructing the nation as a religious community, a body of the faithful in need of protection from internal and external assault. In these body and container metaphors, Islam’s purity is asserted as an uncorrupted faith—the “authentic,” “pure,” or “true” Islam that must be defended from heretics and blasphemers more generally.33 A common metaphor portrays Islam as a “fortress” (benteng), an image directed against invaders (including critics) viewed as attacking the faith from the outside.34 An anonymous website that mimics the Setara Institute for Peace and Democracy (a group that promotes religious tolerance and human rights) attacks this same institute as “rats gnawing on the wall of the Muslim community,” and charges that the institute is funded by foreigners bent on destroying Islam.35 Commentators on another Islamic website condemn liberals as “infıdels” backed by foreigners, equating religious pluralism and the spread of rival faiths as a Western-backed siege.36 Much of this rhetoric centers on what is seen to be an accelerating Christianization through Christian conversions of Indonesian Muslims.37 Characterizations of such proselytizing as neocolonial are common in this expression, as in one blog that accuses nonbelievers of a “divide and conquer” strategy while condemning the “kaffır [infıdel] occupation” of Muslim lands and the torture of Muslims in places such as Guantanamo.38

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Through this postcolonial perspective, Islamic groups in Indonesia maintain what some call “a minority complex” despite the country’s overwhelmingly Muslim majority.39 In this anti-imperialist discourse, Christian evangelists in Indonesia are also characterized as predatory, stalking the weak and vulnerable, “forcing” them to convert through mass baptisms, or seducing them with material comforts including, in one case, “instant noodles.”40 In some discussions, Muslims who acquiesce are also sharply condemned. Suara Islam goes so far as to advocate a death sentence for those who change religions.41 Most striking in these warnings, however, is a theme of sexual violation. Muslim cleric Dewi Purnamawati, for example, describes Indonesia as “fertile ground” for Christianization, portraying the Islamic community as supine and Indonesian Islam as being “prostituted in the name of pluralism,” specifıcally through pluralism’s tenet that “all religions are good.”42 Here Islam is clearly a body threatened by sexual predators in the guise of Christian evangelists. But the consequence most feared appears to be not the victims’ trauma but the loss to the ummat.43 An article on purported conversion strategies describes a tactic of “Christianization through the rape of Muslim girls,” citing cases of Christian men kidnapping, drugging, and raping “virtuous” Muslim girls, then baptizing and “Christianizing” them while “helpless.”44 In another story, a Christian reportedly had a friend take a nude photo of his new Muslim wife and then threatened to disseminate the photo if she did not convert to Christianity.45 Despite the humiliation described, the scandal in each story is, again, not the violation of the victim but the theft of a member of the faith. An alternate view of Christianization not as predator but as disease comes through in what Kent Ono and John Sloop, in their study of California’s Proposition 187 controversy, have called “disease-infestation metaphor[s].”46 In Indonesia, this type is seen in frequent references to Christianization “spreading” (menyebar) and “infesting” (merajalela) Islamic communities, and in increasingly uncompromising objections in predominantly Muslim areas to the building of new churches.47 These reactions reflect fears of what one prominent cleric, H. Abu Deedat Syihab, describes as a campaign to overrun Islam by “constructing as many churches as possible,” regardless of need.48 “For Christians,” he argues, citing two verses from the Bible, “spreading Christianity to all of mankind is a holy order within the frame of carrying out the mandate of Jesus.”49 Such


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fears have both stiffened local opposition to new building permits and led to escalating attacks on existing structures, most notably by a mob of 1,500 who burned two churches in Temanggung in February 2011, and the torching of three more churches by another mob in Riau six months later.50 Among the most striking metaphors of bodily invasion, however, are those found in rhetoric condemning not Christians but rather minority Muslim sects and their defenders, consistently constructed as either deviants or pathogens that threaten the nation’s moral health and physical stability. Such metaphors can be heard in emotive sermonizing by radical preachers. In one such sermon, Salafı cleric Farid Okbah calls minority sects “thorns in our flesh . . . far more dangerous than the infıdels” because they “weaken Islam from within.” The Shiites, he argues, are the most dangerous, promoting “ideals so deviant that their teachings need to be exterminated.” Lest anyone imagine Okbah is suggesting only Shiite teachings be “exterminated,” in the next breath he adds, “one Shiite in Indonesia is one Shiite too many,” and ominously blames the group for any violence that might befall them.51 Perhaps surprisingly, smaller sects have sparked even more impassioned responses from reactionary Muslims, ranging from demands for police action—with actual imprisonment for leaders accused of “insulting Islam”—to mob violence, often instigated by militant groups such as the Islamic Defenders Front (FPI).52 The most intense violence and heated rhetoric have been directed at the Ahmadiyah sect, which arrived in Indonesia in 1924 and now numbers from 200,000 to 500,000.53 One belief attributed to them, though recently disavowed by their leaders, is that their founder, Mirza Ghulam Ahmad, rather than the Prophet Muhammad, was Islam’s last prophet.54 This perceived deviation from Islam and an impression that the group is multiplying have inspired condemnations laden with metaphors of infection and infestation. In pressuring the governor of West Kalimantan to disband Ahmadiyah in March 2011, FPI leader M. Thaha Almutahar declared the sect “a disease for Islam,” akin to a “toothache” or “sick body.”55 Ahmad Sumargono, chairman of Indonesia’s Muslim Brotherhood Movement, describes Ahmadiyah as “infecting the Islamic community.”56 A popular website devoted almost entirely to discussing religious deviants, Nahimunkar.com, also accuses Ahmadiyah and its defenders of inflicting “ideological and psychological harm . . . more painful even” than physical wounds.57

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Such language is echoed in condemnations of defenders of Ahmadiyah and religious pluralism more broadly. Fundamentalists have branded the Liberal Islamic Network (JIL) and similar organizations as “SIPILIS” (or “SEPILIS”) groups, an acronym for the “secularism, pluralism and liberalism,” the latter support and are used intentionally to invoke the sexually transmitted disease. On a website called “Disband Liberal Islam and All Its Organizations,” one commenter warns that the public “must be defended” from “contracting the JIL virus,” and several others accuse liberal Muslims of scheming “to destroy Islam from within.” Another asserts, “SEPELIS and JIL want the country to fall apart.” Still another summons readers to “Cleanse [Islam] from contamination by JIL,” and “Delete the thoughts that twist the faith.”58 But language used by the high-ranking Muslim cleric, Cholil Ridwan, is perhaps the most vivid, calling Ahmadiyah a “bisul” (abscess or pustule) that is “about to burst” and will ooze a “pus” whose “odor will grow ever more noxious.” Ahmadiyah, he insists, must be “pulled out at its roots, so it cannot grow anymore.”59 Heeding such imperatives, local mobs have attacked Ahmadis, shuttering their mosques, and destroying their businesses and homes. The Setara Institute has recorded 342 such assaults on Ahmadis alone from 2007 and 2011.60 References to contamination and purifıcation have provided the justifıcation. Following a mob frenzy that ended in the murder of three Ahmadis in the town of Cikeusik in February 2011, villagers showed little regret, explaining, in the words of one man, “We had to clean our village. . . . This is no place for the followers of a cult.”61 While militant groups, such as FPI, have instigated or aided most attacks and helped to spread “hatred” for Ahmadis among “ordinary people,”62 a much-criticized aspect of this growing intolerance has been its implicit sanction by state representatives—visible in new laws and decrees that restrict religious minority rights, passivity of police in protecting minorities, and involvement of the military in various forms of intimidation. Critics argue this complicity is emboldening radical groups to new acts of antiminority aggression.63 But it also begs the question: Why are religious radicals, who represent less than one percent of the population, having such success in changing Indonesia from a nation that has long based its very identity on religious, cultural, and ethnic pluralism to one facing growing and, at many levels, state-sanctioned intolerance?64 The answer is complex, involving factors such as efforts by politicians to court the Muslim vote, fear


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by everyone, from local police up to the president, of being labeled “antiIslamic,” the growing influence of transnational Islamist movements, and the usefulness of hardliners to military and police leaders with political agendas.65 Arguably the most critical of these factors for change has been an escalating intolerance among mainstream Muslim organizations, particularly Islamic scholars in the Indonesian Council of the Ulamas (MUI), who are state subsidized—a carryover from Suharto’s corporatism—and treated as offıcial representatives of the national Muslim community.66 In July 2005, MUI suddenly issued a series of fatwas (religious edicts) banning interfaith marriage, interfaith prayer, and alternative readings of the Koran, and calling for outlawing the Ahmadiyah sect. All are aimed at maintaining boundaries around Islam with ample use of container imagery. In a separate fatwa, however, MUI employs corporeal metaphors, invoking images of bodily violation and disease by using the acronym “SIPILIS” (that became rife on the Internet) to condemn secularism, pluralism, and liberalism.67 Although fatwas are not binding, MUI executive Cholil Ridwan immediately ordered thousands of preachers connected to his organization, the Indonesian Council for Islamic Propagation, to support the MUI in its “war on deviant thoughts,” stating, “We have to vaccinate our congregation[s] to [protect] them from this sipilis virus.”68 The most ominous of the 2005 fatwas, however, was the one directed against Ahmadiyah, declaring it heretical and its followers murtad (apostates).69 Hasyim Muzadi, the head of Nahdlatul Ulama (NU), Indonesia’s largest Muslim organization, warned that such edicts could encourage violence between religious groups.70 Earlier that month, in fact, hundreds of young men from the militant FPI and an affıliated group had forcibly dispersed a large Ahmadiyah gathering in Parung, Bogor.71 More serious attacks followed, including a rampage by hundreds of vandals in an Ahmadi neighborhood in West Java in September 2005 and a devastating assault in Lombok in 2006 that destroyed houses, mosques, and businesses, and left hundreds of Ahmadis homeless. Other attacks followed in 2007, including one in a central suburb of the capital city of Jakarta, leading local authorities not to protect but to close eight of the group’s mosques.72 Not surprisingly, in a country known for demonstrating compatibility between Islam and democracy, MUI’s fatwas set off alarms internationally and domestically. Hasyim Muzadi of NU was, again, among those express-

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ing sharp disapproval, “We live in a diverse society and this country is not an Islamic state.”73 Pressure on the government to respond began to build and, in late 2007, the Orwellian government agency, the Coordinating Body for Overseeing People’s Beliefs, or Bakorpakem, a legacy of the Suharto era, began monitoring Ahmadiyah followers. That same year, the agency recommended a national ban on the group. Other leaders held off, instead trying to facilitate a dialogue between Ahmadis and their attackers. At this juncture, the Religious Affairs Ministry announced that it would accept Ahmadis as part of the Islamic community if they recognized Muhammad as the last prophet. In January 2008, a group of Ahmadi leaders did just that in a 12-point statement aimed at defusing the heresy charges. Yet, after monitoring the Ahmadiyah for three months, the Ministry found the sect’s adherence to the resolutions inconsistent. On April 16, 2008, Bakorpakem again recommended a government ban on all Ahmadiyah activities. A week later, the Home and Religious Affairs ministries and the Attorney General issued a joint decree, just short of an offıcial ban of the sect, prohibiting Ahmadis from proselytizing and worshipping in public. To justify this denial of freedom of worship, in a striking reprise of Suharto’s order-and-harmony rhetoric, offıcials claimed the group’s teachings were disturbing “public order.”74 Emboldened by the decree, a group called the Jamaah Al Mubalighin Communication Forum burned down an Ahmadiyah mosque in Sukabumi, West Java.75 Over the next three years, the Indonesian Ahmadiyah Congregation recorded over 150 more attacks and acts of intimidation, leading in only two cases to prosecution.76 Since 2008, more and more groups and government leaders have turned on Ahmadiyah, often using corporatist language in demanding their dissolution. Guided by the notion of a population as a body to be protected, leaders, local and national, claim the authority to close houses of worship, ban members of minority religions from congregating, and restrict other rights in the name of public order. In April 2011, the minister of religion, Suryadharma Ali, also head of the Islam-based United Development Party, added his support to Ahmadiyah’s ban, accusing the group of defıling Islam’s teachings and creating “a religion inside a religion.”77 That same spring, Hasyim Muzadi of NU (again, the nation’s largest Muslim organization, claiming approximately 30 million members) reversed his earlier condemnation of MUI’s 2005 fatwa and demanded Ahmadiyah be “expelled from Islam.”78


15

Throughout, pressure on President Yudhoyono to ban the sect outright has escalated.79 In March 2011, the Indonesian Islamic Forum—an umbrella organization for radical groups, including the FPI—began holding mass demonstrations and threatening to charge the president personally with violating the 1965 Blasphemy Law for failing to instate a ban.80 Local and regional governments in the meantime have been enacting their own prohibitions in the name of public order. The mayor of Cimahi, West Java, justifıed his ban on Ahmadiyah’s gatherings by arguing that allowing the sect to continue with their activities “could lead to anarchy.” The governors of East and West Java also declared the sect illegal in this period, setting off another series of attacks. By April 2011, nearly half Indonesia’s 33 provinces had banned the sect.81 Critics of these bans often point out that the constitution guarantees freedom of religion. In apparent contradiction to the constitution, however, a separate law, the 1965 Blasphemy Law, has created an opening for radicals to redefıne freedom of religion by criminalizing all speech or activity that could be construed as insulting to one of Indonesia’s six recognized religions (Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism, Catholicism, Protestantism, and Confucianism). In effect, one is free to choose among the six, but any beliefs that differ from those of the majority within each can be declared an insult—an assault upon the majority. To justify intolerance, then, in a democracy with strong constitutional protections for freedom of religion, a subset of Muslims is asserting their own interpretation of majority rule: the majority has a right to be protected from the minority, and insults to the majority are destabilizing.82 This majority, in turn, is often characterized as an entity easily provoked to uncontrollable mob action, thereby divested of responsibility for eruptions of violence against minorities. Following this logic, in the aftermath of the Cikeusik attack that killed three Ahmadis, the perpetrators were redefıned as victims and victims as perpetrators. One Ahmadi victim, who lost his hand in the attack, was sentenced to six months in prison for provoking the violence by not abandoning his home to be ransacked and burned.83 In analyzing these attacks, it is important to note there is a physical territoriality to the persecution, making the boundaries of the state, rather than those of Islamic organizations, the focus of contestation. That is, the struggle to ban Ahmadiyah is not about the group’s right to membership in mainstream Muslim organizations, such as Muhammadiyah and Nadhlatul

16


Ulama. Such exclusion is already a given. The actual, though unstated, campaign appears to be to expel Ahmadiyah and other minority Muslim groups from nonreligiously defıned territories—neighborhoods, municipalities, provinces, and ultimately the nation itself—taking away their secular rights to citizenship and leaving them, in effect, stateless. Consequently, Ahmadis have lost numerous rights of citizenship. In May 2008, for example, the National Commission on Violence against Women reported that in some areas Ahmadiyah women married to non-Ahmadiyah men had been forced to annul their marriages, making their children illegitimate and subject to severe discrimination in local schools.84 In Mataram, West Nusa Tenggara, Ahmadiyah refugees who had been driven from their homes were then denied voting rights, further excising them from both the Islamic and national communities. In Ketapang, West Lombok, hundreds of Ahmadi families forced into refugee camps of makeshift shanties are being denied not only the right to return home but also marriage certifıcates and, most critically, the national identity cards required to prove citizenship, rendering them legal and social exiles within their own country. Ahmadis in West Lombok are even facing possible relocation to a tiny deserted island.85 In effect, the imagined body being constructed as violated or infected is not simply religious but also geographical, prompting militants to form mobs to drive members of minority sects from their communities. The ensuing pressure on government offıcials to affırm this violence by banning minority faiths outright and revoking their civil rights—to live in their homes, go to public schools, hold identity cards—is also territorially bound. Thus, as local offıcials, government ministers, and state-sponsored religious organizations, such as MUI, join in outlawing minority sects, the imagined body of believers is expanding to meet the geographical borders of the nation.

THE RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN CORPORATISM AND SCAPEGOATING The use of metaphors of vaccination, disease, defılement, and even extermination illustrates the dominance of corporatist language in fundamentalist Muslim rhetoric justifying the persecution of Indonesia’s religious minorities. This resurgence of corporatism in Islamic guise is therefore part of the puzzle explaining the rising antipathy toward these minorities, par-


17

ticularly its visceral nature. But to observe the presence of this language does not explain the resurgence of corporatism itself, particularly in the new democratic era. Why corporatism, and why now? One of the atavisms that persists after transitions from authoritarian rule is a yearning for a sense of national community. Taking advantage of this sentiment, religious fundamentalists, invoking the will of a silent majority, may attempt to impose religious orthodoxy on society as a new kind of communitarian value. In Indonesia, Islamic groups have used corporatist language to invoke the communitarian values of the Suharto era, appealing to a nostalgia for lost unity and oneness of identity, but have also recast the values in religious terms. A key feature of contemporary corporatism, moreover, is not just construction of the nation as a body but also use of a recurring imagery of purity versus contamination and disease. In her book Purity and Danger, Mary Douglas argues that a main function of such imagery in any moral discourse is “to impose system on an inherently untidy experience.” She explains, “It is only by exaggerating the difference between within and without, above and below, male and female, with and against, that a semblance of order is created.”86 There is little question both democratization and globalization have jumbled the order among and within Indonesian religions. The MUI’s 2005 sweeping fatwas, taken together, suggest an almost desperate desire to reestablish order, or at least prevent further comingling. The reemergence of corporatist rhetoric—particularly the SIPILIS metaphor that equates religious tolerance with disease—is in part a response to these changes. This response also appears to spring from anxiety caused by traditional Islam’s declining authority. Some observers attribute this anxiety to the failures of established Muslim organizations to provide people with the “truth” they are looking for in the new era, driving followers to look to new groups for answers. Others point out that new media and concurrent globalizing forces have widened social, intellectual, and cultural interactions, thereby facilitating diversifıcation of Islamic beliefs and practices.87 Regardless of the cause, reconfıgurations of authority contribute to a sense of instability that helps explain not only intensifying concerns over purity and contamination but also the development, noted at the outset, of discourses and practices of exclusion that appear to be feeding cycles of scapegoating.

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Scapegoating to manufacture the illusion of unity among those otherwise divided is not new. As Burke has said in an analysis of Hitler’s racist rhetoric, “Men who can unite on nothing else can unite on the basis of a foe shared by all.”88 Similarly, J. Harold Ellens points out that the sacrifıce of a “key symbolic fıgure or group has been a crucial element in establishing and maintaining sociocultural stability since the beginning of the human experiment.”89 In Violence and the Sacred, René Girard offers a deeper explanation of scapegoating as generally precipitated by a crisis that forms from tensions caused by flux—particularly flux in authority and identity as a group struggles with changes in hierarchies, such as those roiling the Muslim community in Indonesia.90 Ellens explains scapegoating’s role in resolving the crises Girard describes: “When [a] scapegoat is identifıed, properly blamed and exterminated, the crisis subsides because a rationale has been established for it, so its reasons can be managed and its apparent resolution or cure has been accomplished.”91 Indeed, in comments by villagers following the Cikeusik attack of February 2011, a feeling of relief—that a source of tension and division had been removed—was almost palpable. One resident said of the teenager caught on video smashing the skull of an Ahmadi, “He’s a hero!” Another said, “I do feel bad people had to die. . . . But I’m grateful that they’re fınally gone.”92 The comments indicate a sense of resolution but, Ellens again points out, in such situations “[t]he violence that is supposed to afford a resolution of the . . . crisis provides [only] a temporary release of the destructive human energies at best.”93 Scapegoating in Indonesia, justifıed with corporatist rhetoric, appears to be following this pattern—restoring a sense of order but failing to achieve lasting resolution, making further attacks on deviant Others seem necessary. But I also argue that it is the very nature of corporatist metaphors themselves, combined with their use in a specifıc cultural context, that appears to be making the stigmatization of religious minorities potentially irreversible. First, as noted at the outset, they are ontological, a form that may effect an especially deep internalization. As Johannes Hendrik Coetzee argues, “All human experience is embodied and it is via bodily means that one is able to respond mentally, verbally, and physically to the world.”94 More critically, they are body-as-container metaphors that are being used to conjure images—such as health versus disease, purity versus contamination—in a majority-Muslim context. Since hygiene and purifıcation rituals


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fıgure prominently in Islamic religious practice, such metaphors are likely to have particular resonance among Indonesian Muslims.95 The country’s long immersion in Suharto’s corporatist imagining of the nation then gives such metaphors further cultural resonance among Indonesians more generally. Moreover, as a phenomenon Mark Johnson terms “a pervasive mode of understanding by which we project patterns from one domain of experience to structure another domain of a different kind,” metaphoric representation is transformative, creating new realities as much as representing existing ones.96 Correspondingly, the ontological nature of corporatist metaphors lends a visceral quality to these transformations that makes this imagery resistant to rational challenge. One can speculate, for example, that once one sees one’s religion and/or community as a body, and perceives those designated deviant as threatening this body with contamination, it is diffıcult to undo the visceral impact of such imagining. Indicative of the almost primal reactions such views can justify are recent moves in Indonesia to prevent religious intermixing even in graveyards, fırst in the removal in April 2011 of an Ahmadi man’s corpse from a cemetery in Bandung, and then in a provision in the now-pending “Religious Tolerance Bill” that would segregate public cemeteries by religion.97 At the same time, a contradictory impulse appears to be at work in campaigns to reintegrate Muslim minorities through determined efforts, often aided by local offıcials, to (re)absorb them within the majority Muslim community. In November 2007, for example, over 1,000 Ahmadis renounced their faith at Yogyakarta’s police headquarters in a muchcelebrated mass ceremony “witnessed” by the chief of police himself. More recently in March 2011, police and military offıcers allegedly used “bribery and intimidation” to convince Ahmadis across West Java to sign statements renouncing their faith, rewarding any who complied with up to $14. If they did not renounce, warned village administrators, then “it would be diffıcult for them to get their ID cards processed, and to get their children an education.”98 Interestingly, however, one police chief described the door-to-door sweep not as intimidation but rather as “socialization,” stating, “We will not force them [to renounce their beliefs] because faith is about human rights.” Though Ahmadiyah representatives claimed that those who signed the statement “feared for their lives,” the chief’s assertion may not be as disin-

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genuous as it sounds.99 There is, it seems, a fairly widespread hope for the possibility of returning “lost lamb[s]” to the fold through “dialog” and through shared revelation that will lead all to the inevitable recognition of one true path. In other words, the belief is that there are not multiple paths—just a misguided perception of such multiplicity, which can be corrected.100 The possibility that one can, in fact, be reintegrated into the body after being designated deviant distinguishes discrimination in Indonesia from other national contexts in which corporeal constructions of the nation have been racially coded. Since Indonesia’s discrimination does not appear racially or ethnically based, a stigmatized individual can, theoretically, gain reprieve from discrimination by converting to mainstream Islam regardless of morphology or lineage. At a broader level, however, scapegoating based on ideological deviance, rather than physical difference, can justify a potentially infınite expansion of targets for correction or discrimination—far beyond condemning minority faiths, stretching into the policing of behavior, attire, and even thought. This potential is increasingly evident, for example, in the widening net of FPI militants and similar groups now attacking nightclubs for serving alcohol and food stalls for staying open during the fasting hours of Ramadan. It is also articulated explicitly in FPI leader Farid Budi’s recent announcement that, once “done with the Ahmadiyah case,” the FPI will turn their attention to “other issues,” starting with the spread of corrupting “underground music.”101 Budi’s statement is almost an open admission of a possibly insatiable need for new targets to sustain his organization’s roving militancy, and is indicative of another factor likely to drive continued attacks on religious minorities and other moral “deviants”—the centrality of such targets to the very identity of fundamentalist groups. To elaborate, the identity of such groups appears based, at least in part, on imagining a perfect unity of beliefs and believers. Yet this imagined cohesion that binds them together is grounded in an unsustainable illusion. Edward Said, for example, has argued the impossibility of either a “pure ideology” or a homogenous community, citing “the uncontroversially accepted view, based on experience and common sense, that all social situations—and, hence, all populations, states, and groupings—are in fact mixed.” Thus, he continues, “there cannot be any such thing as a pure race, a pure nation, or religious


21

argument,” rendering “all efforts . . . to purify one or several of these human agglomerations . . . tantamount to organized discrimination or persecution.”102 Perpetrators of persecution in Indonesia, particularly those seeking to establish an Islamic state, may not be bothered by such charges.103 Nor are they likely to be convinced of the logical impossibility of creating a pure community. A key reason, following Slavoj Žižek’s Lacanian analysis of racism in modern societies, is that religious intolerance, like racism, can serve a fantasy function for groups seeking to cover over such impossibility. Thus in Indonesia, continued attacks on religious minorities are likely only to strengthen the fundamentalist “fantasy,” or illusion, that such a community is possible. Like the subject of racism in other societies, the subject of intolerance in Indonesia—the religious deviant—becomes, Žižek says, “an element which ‘sticks out,’ which cannot be integrated into the given symbolic structure, yet which, precisely as such, constitutes its identity.” This, he concludes, is “the paradox of identity at work in the way fantasy guarantees the consistency of a socio-ideological edifıce.”104 In discussing Žižek, Tony Meyers elaborates on this paradox, noting that the “underlying argument of all racism is that ‘if only they weren’t here, life would be perfect, and society will be harmonious again,’” while in reality, he says, echoing Said, “society is always-already divided.” Like any subject of racism, the (excluded) religious deviant is “a fantasy fıgure, someone who embodies the void of the Other,” that is, the fıgure blamed for preventing the realization of a pure community, a harmonious society. Correspondingly, the subject of religious intolerance in Indonesia, and likely elsewhere, “is only there”—must be there, I would argue—“to make us think that such a harmonious society is actually possible.”105 Thus, persecution of minorities whom fundamentalists declare to be unclean, disease-like, or “thorns in the flesh” of a united Indonesian ummat may be, from this perspective, central to fundamentalists’ own faith in the possibility of such a community106—just as persecution of suspected Communists was central to imagining a unifıed nation under Suharto. Put differently, if such persecution is a symptom of anxiety over Islam’s unity in the democratic era, for the time being it also appears to be the preferred panacea for that anxiety.

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CONCLUSION As we confront news of setbacks and advances in any project of democratization, whether in Indonesia or the Arab Spring, a certain amount of caution is necessary in assessing the meaning of any given trend. Major change—whether welcome or worrisome—always meets some backlash. In nations where youth movements, rallying with cries for democracy, have overthrown dictators, reactionary forces frequently organize to reverse liberalization. In Egypt, Coptic Christians fear rising tensions with Muslims and the loss of equal rights. In Tunisia, torture and abuse by government forces have continued after President Zine El Abidine Ben Ali’s fall. And outcomes in Syria, Bahrain, and Yemen are even less certain.107 This study has examined the backlash in Indonesia against the embrace of liberalism and pluralism that followed President Suharto’s ouster. Attacks on minority religions and the passage of new morals laws to turn back the tide of Westernization represent signs of reaction—recasting corporatist principles in Islamic guise and pulling the state into a project of religious intolerance that redraws the boundaries of citizenship and extends its reach into private affairs. Within these principles, the national body must be protected from religious and other moral deviance. In the accompanying rhetoric, deviant groups become a public menace and the state must help, if for no other reason than to maintain law and order. The state once again becomes party to repression.108 As offıcial discrimination against religious minorities takes new forms, the state’s involvement leads to the incremental expansion of an imagined Muslim community to become coterminous with the geographical boundaries of the nation. In Indonesia, this expansion may also explain why, over time, the range of groups facing the loss of civil rights is widening beyond deviant sects. Most recently, in the hyper-orthodox province of Aceh, local leaders have branded punk rock music a “social disease,” and consequently police have been rounding up offenders for forced haircuts and ritual cleansing.109 At a national level, there is little doubt in the balance of media commentary that the growth of religious intolerance is influenced by maneuvering among politicians and religious leaders for position in a rapidly changing social and religious landscape. The motivations of such leaders thus may seem transparent, leaving them open to easy critique. But public exonera-


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tion of those responsible for minority attacks has tended to place equal blame on the victims, suggesting an illusory belief that if they can be excised from the national body all will be well. How such an illusion has trumped Indonesians’ hard-won post-Suharto wariness of political manipulation returns us to the combined power of corporeal and container metaphors in redefıning notions of vulnerability and danger. The problem is not naïveté among Indonesians regarding the possibility that their leaders might be using scapegoating for political gain. The problem lies more in a general reluctance to critique certain justifıcations for religious intolerance, particularly those that make religious unity seem necessary and the expulsion of deviants both acceptable and urgent. This lack of conversation constitutes what M. Lane Bruner has termed “politically signifıcant absences.”110 As they face new religious pluralism fostered by foreign influences and freedom of speech, Indonesian leaders of all types—religious, secular, and right up to the president—are forging such absences by allowing a small minority of fundamentalists to use physical intimidation to enforce purifıcation and to manipulate fears of being labeled “anti-Islam,” silencing critics, and thereby controlling the conversation.111 The good news for proponents of tolerance, however, may be three-fold. Such maneuvering has galvanized into action members of Indonesia’s progressive Islamic community who are, in the words of one observer, “committed to . . . [a] concept of citizenship that emphasizes the inherent plurality and inclusiveness of Indonesian society.”112 Demonstrating how pervasive corporatist rhetoric has become, these religious moderates often use similar imagery to condemn spreading intolerance, calling it “a disease,” or “virulent ideology,” or comparing it, in one influential text, to a fastgrowing fungus.113 Such language may foster abhorrence of fundamentalism. On the other hand, its use even to condemn intolerance may also reinforce the mental representations that promote it by casting intolerant beliefs as disease-like and those holding them as disease-ridden. Moderate voices are also using another discursive strategy, however, that may in the end be a more effective counter to growing intolerance, harnessing the implicit mandate of tolerance in the long-revered national ideology, Pancasila, and the state motto, “Unity in Diversity.” In addition to forming civil society groups such as the Pancasila Caucus, and promoting tolerance through popular culture artifacts, such as Franky Sahilatua’s song, “Pancasila Rumah Kita” (“Pancasila, Our Home”), moderates are advocating

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Pancasila education programs in the public schools. And with growing frequency, public fıgures are also invoking both the ideology and motto in responses to attacks on religious minorities.114 These initiatives and invocations are producing a new nationalism potentially powerful enough to delegitimate intolerant, religion-based defınitions of Indonesia’s identity and shared values. In a speech in June 2011 calling for a return to “Pancasila values,” former President Jusuf Bacharuddin Habibie acknowledged that the ideology served political repression under Suharto. But, he argued, “Pancasila is not the property of any era or an ornament of government power in any given time,” and could serve as a powerful corrective to the radicalism, group fanaticism, and violence of the present era.115 The same month, the military’s powerful commander-inchief, Admiral Agus Suhartono, elevated the ideology further to almost sacral status, equating its defense with defense of the nation.116 As Bruner has observed, “National identity is arguably capable of attaining both a ‘healthy’ and an ‘unhealthy’ state, and nationalism may be used as a tool (albeit ideologically constrained) for a variety of useful and harmful purposes.”117 Pancasila, decoupled from corporatist metaphors, is providing such a tool to counter radical Islam—not perhaps as effectively as a direct countermetaphor, but still potent for its resonance with Indonesia’s historic nationalism whose central tenet was intergroup tolerance. While its reach beyond moderates remains to be seen, such resonance is helping to reignite a sense of pride in the very pluralism opposed by those fanning the flames of intolerance. Finally, while corporatist rhetoric may have great appeal in the face of fragmenting authority, corporatism itself is a totalizing ideology—unlikely to fare well over the long-term in a context of proliferating media and postmodern sensibilities. No matter how reactionary Muslim leaders, even those in government, become, Indonesia is not Iran in 1979.118 Iran is not even Iran in 1979. The reality for anyone seeking a monopoly on religious truth or unchallenged dominance over any major faith is described in a recent essay by political scientist John Sidel. Worldwide, Sidel argues, “the realm of spiritual power is in the throes of a great transformation.” Urbanization, new technologies, new bases of religious authority, and “new arbiters of what it means to know God” are throwing old hierarchies into crisis, their hegemonies “under threat,” he concludes, through “tectonic shifts in the politics of


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religious knowledge, or, to borrow a term from the profane world of politics, the democratization of religion.”119 These observations may offer little immediate comfort for minorities such as Ahmadiyah, who are suffering democracy’s double-edged sword, bringing freedom from authoritarianism while allowing a new tyranny of the majority. But as we look to Indonesia and the wider Islamic world with possible trepidation over future repression by religious fundamentalists, we can consider the diffıculties of forcing homogeneity on any people in an era of global media and social networking. With Indonesia’s dual claim as fourth highest in Facebook users and fıfth highest in subscribers to Twitter, such diffusion will ultimately frustrate efforts to extirpate divergent beliefs from the national community—a community long bound together not by unanimity of religious faith, but by the state motto “Unity in Diversity” that has defıned Indonesian identity since the nation’s birth in 1945. NOTES Except where otherwise indicated, all translations in this article are by the author. 1. Sharif Abdel Kouddous, “Tahrir One Year Later,” The Nation, February 6, 2012, http://www.thenation.com/article/165735/tahrir-one-year-later-fıght-egypts-future (accessed August 4, 2012); David D. Kirkpatrick, “Islamists Win 70 Percent of Seats in Egypt’s Parliament,” New York Times, January 22, 2012, A8. 2. See, for example, Dipo Alam and Omer Siregar, “The Roles of Indonesia and Turkey in Democratic Developments,” Today’s Zaman (Turkey), December 12, 2011, http://www.todayszaman.com/newsDetail_getNewsById.action?load⫽detay& newsId⫽265498&link⫽265498 (accessed August 4, 2012); Jay Solomon, “In Indonesia, a Model for Egypt’s Transition,” WSJ Online, February 12, 2011, http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748704329104576138490822239336.html (accessed November 20, 2011). 3. By May 2011, international concern had grown suffıcient to prompt the UN High Commissioner for Human Rights to request a special rapporteur be allowed into Indonesia to investigate reports of religious persecution. Peter Alford, “SBY Urged to Back UN on Religious Violence,” The Australian, May 20, 2011, http://www.theaustralian. com.au/news/world/sby-urged-to-back-un-on-religious-violence/story-e6frg6so1226059216782. 4. Other studies have looked at religious uses of embodied rhetoric to justify violence, including Johannes Hendrik Coetzee’s examination of certain “god-concepts” that

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RHETORIC & PUBLIC AFFAIRS have justifıed violence in the name of Islam, Judaism, and Christianity. My study builds upon this scholarship by looking at metaphors describing not God but rather religious communities. Johannes Hendrik Coetzee, “Religious Roots of Terrorism: Perceptions of God Playing Out in World Politics,” Forum on Public Policy: A Journal of the Oxford Round Table 4 (2010), http://www.forumonpublicpolicy.com/ Vol2010.no4/archive.vol2010.no4/coetzee.pdf (accessed November 2, 2011).

5. Edward Said, “An Ideology of Difference,” Critical Inquiry 12 (1985): 43. 6. Also commonly spelled umat and umma. 7. “Radicalism in Indonesia Wavering: Survey,” in Jakarta Post, October 5, 2011, http://www.thejakartapost.com/news/2011/10/05/radicalism-indonesia-waveringsurvey.html (accessed August 4, 2012). 8. Pancasila [pahn-cha-seela] translated literally is “fıve pillars.” “Unity in Diversity” is a translation of the Javanese phrase, Bhinneka Tunggal Ika (literally “[Although] in pieces, yet One”), and is included in the constitution and inscribed on a banner held by the Garuda bird in the national symbol “Garuda Indonesia.” 9. The fıve pillars are: 1) belief in one almighty god; 2) just and civilized humanity; 3) the unity of Indonesia; 4) democracy guided by the inner wisdom in the unanimity arising out of deliberations amongst representatives; and 5) social justice for the whole of the people of Indonesia. English translation from the Embassy of the Republic of Indonesia website, http://www.embassyofındonesia.org/about/ natsymbols.htm (accessed January 7, 2013). 10. For example, see Amy Chew, “Long-standing Tradition under Siege,” The Star (Malaysia), August 7, 2011, http://www.persecutionofahmadis.org/attacks-on-muslimminorities-by-radicals-on-the-rise-in-indonesia/ (accessed May 13, 2013); Hans David Tampubolon, “GKI Yasmin Church Barred from Holding Services, Again,” Jakarta Post, March 14, 2011, 9; “Mobs Burn 3 ‘Illegal Churches’ in Riau,” Jakarta Post, August 5, 2011, 2; Femi Adi and Berni Moestafa, “Indonesia Church Bomber Part of Cirebon Group, Yudhoyono Says,” Bloomberg, September 25, 2011, http://www.bloomberg.com/news/2011-09-25/indonesia-church-bomber-part-ofcirebon-terrorist-network-yudhoyono-says.html (accessed August 4, 2012); “Witness: Church Leaders Attacked by Eight People,” Jakarta Post, September 25, 2011, http://www.thejakartapost.com/news/2010/09/15/witness-church-leaders-attackedeight-people.html (accessed August 4, 2012); “Syaikh Al-Azhar Tolak Penyebaran Syiah di Indonesia,” eramuslim.com, March 9, 2011, http://www.eramuslim.com/ berita/dunia/al-azhar-kami-tidak-akan-tinggal-diam-dalam-hadapi-pelanggaransyiah.htm (accessed November 1, 2011); Fitri, “Lombok Mob Targets ‘Deviant’ Sect over Alcohol, Dress, Music,” Jakarta Globe, December 6, 2011, http://www.


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thejakartaglobe.com/home/lombok-mob-targets-deviant-sect-over-alcohol-dress-music/ 482928 (accessed August 4, 2012). The Jakarta Post cites 342 cases of assault on the minority sect Ahmadiyah alone from 2007 to 2011. Ati Nurbaiti, “Ahmadiyah Bans: Legal Justifıcation for Intolerance?” Jakarta Post, December 10, 2011, http://www. thejakartapost.com/news/2011/12/10/ahmadiyah-bans-legal-justifıcationintolerance.html (accessed August 4, 2012). 11. George Lakoff and Mark L. Johnson, Metaphors We Live By (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1980), 156. 12. Robert L. Ivie, “Democracy, War, and Decivilizing Metaphors of American Insecurity,” in Metaphorical World Politics, ed. Francis A. Beer and Christ’l De Landtsheer (East Lansing: Michigan State University Press, 2004), 76. 13. J. Harold Ellens, “Religious Metaphors Can Kill,” in The Destructive Power of Religion: Violence in Judaism, Christianity and Islam, vol. 1, ed. J. Harold Ellens (Westport, CT: Praeger, 2004), 255–72. 14. For example, see James Malloy, ed, Authoritarianism and Corporatism in Latin America (London: University of Pittsburgh Press, 1977); Alfred Stepan, The State and Society: Peru in Comparative Perspective (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1978); Harmon Zeigler, Pluralism, Corporatism and Confucianism (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1988); G. R. G. Mure, “The Organic State,” Philosophy 24 (1949): 205–18. On corporatism and the organic state in Indonesia, see Andrew MacIntyre, “Organising Interests: Corporatism in Indonesian Politics,” Working Paper No. 43, Asia Research Centre, August 1994; Richard Robison, “Indonesia: Trends in State and Regime,” in Southeast Asia in the 1990s: Authoritarianism, Democracy and Capitalism, ed. Kevin Hewison, Richard Robison, and Gary Rodan (St. Leonard, NSW: Allen and Unwin, 1993); Peter Burns, The Leiden Legacy: Concepts of Law in Indonesia (Leiden: KITLV Press, 2004). 15. Lakoff and Johnson, Metaphors We Live By, 58. 16. For a poetic account of the massacre that captures the power of language in sanctioning murder, see Peter Dale Scott, Coming to Jakarta: A Poem About Terror (New York: New Directions, 1989). For a comprehensive study of the killings and surrounding events, including contention over the number of victims, see John Roosa, Pretext for Mass Murder: The September 30th Movement and Suharto’s Coup d’État in Indonesia (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 2006). 17. The term “outside Islam” to justify discrimination, informal and offıcial, dates back decades, including a 1980 government decree on the minority Muslim sect, Amadiyah: “Keputusan Musyawarah Nasional II Majelis Ulama se-Indonesia no. 05/Kep/Munas II/MUI/1980 Fatwa Tentang Ahmadiyah,” http://www.e-infad.my/i-fms/

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RHETORIC & PUBLIC AFFAIRS index.php?option⫽com_fatwa&task⫽viewlink&link_id⫽1836&Itemid⫽48 (accessed March 18, 2013).

18. Tubagus Sidiq of the Islamic Defenders Front (FPI), for example, accuses minority sects of wanting “to build a house inside a house.” Abdul Manan, Vennie Melyani and Ecli Faisol, “The Fallen Lady,” Tempo Magazine, June 10–16, 2008, 22. 19. Otto Santa Ana has identifıed similar categories of body versus house metaphors to justify discrimination in a systematic study of their operation in controversies over American immigration. Otto Santa Ana, Brown Tide Rising: Metaphors of Latinos in Contemporary American Public Discourse (Austin: University of Texas Press, 2002). I am indebted to David Cisneros for alerting me to this source in his own detailed study of immigration discourse, discussed below. J. David Cisneros, “Contaminated Communities: The Metaphor of ‘Immigrant as Pollutant’ in Media Representations of Immigration,” Rhetoric & Public Affairs 11 (2008): 572. 20. One system was Nazi Germany with its pervasive metaphors of contamination and pestilence. For analyses of this rhetoric, see Richard Koenigsberg, Hitler’s Ideology: A Study in Psychoanalytic Sociology (New York: Library of Social Science, 1975); Kenneth Burke, “The Rhetoric of Hitler’s ‘Battle,’” in The Philosophy of Literary Form, 3rd ed. (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1973), 191–220; and Steven Perry, “Rhetorical Functions of the Infestation Metaphor in Hitler’s Rhetoric,” Central States Speech Journal 34 (1983): 229–35. 21. To the present, all citizens must believe in one god to claim membership in the national community but must also choose from one of the six offıcial faiths recognized by the state: Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism, Catholicism, Protestantism, and Confucianism. 22. The 1945 Constitution of the Republic of Indonesia, English translation (Jakarta: Department of Information, Republic of Indonesia, 1989), http://www.usig.org/ countryinfo/laws/Indonesia/ConstitutionIndonesia.doc (accessed June 3, 2009). 23. Indonesians of Chinese descent, though sharing this legal status, suffered varying degrees of discrimination in their claims to full citizenship throughout Suharto’s tenure. 24. Saafroedin Bahar, Ananda B. Kusuma, and Nannie Hudawati, eds., Risalah Sidang Badan Penyelidik Usaha-Usaha Persiapan Kemerdekaan Indonesia (BPUPKI), Panitia Persiapan Kemerdekaan Indonesia (PPKI) 28 Mei 1945–22 Agustus 1945 (Jakarta: Sekretariat Negara Republik Indonesia, 1995), 33–35. 25. When asked about the riots that ravaged Indonesian cities in May 1998 (later also found to be military-orchestrated), anthropologist Clifford Geertz inadvertently reinforced this stereotype when he told the New York Times, “With the Javanese, you


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don’t see the violence coming until it happens. Once the politeness and deference and controlled demeanor collapse, then all hell will break loose.” Philip Shenon, “Of the Turmoil in Indonesia and Its Roots,” New York Times, May 9, 1998, B9. 26. Andrew Abalahin, “A Sixth Religion?: Confucianism and the Negotiation of Indonesian-Chinese Identity Under the Pancasila State,” in Spirited Politics: Religion and Public Life In Contemporary Southeast Asia, ed. Andrew Wilford and Ken George (Ithaca, NY: Cornell Southeast Asia Program Publications, 2005), 119–42. 27. Schwarz notes, for example, that in parliamentary sessions under Suharto, the “tremendous pressure not to disrupt the ‘national consensus’” rendered voting by ballot “taboo,” and required instead vote by “acclamation,” or voice vote. Adam Schwarz, A Nation in Waiting: Indonesia in the 1990s (Boulder, CO: Westview Press, 1994), 40. 28. “Facebook Statistics by Country,” socialbakers.com, August 4, 2012, http://www. socialbakers.com/facebook-statistics/#chart-intervals (accessed August 4, 2012); “Twitter Reaches Half a Billion Accounts,” Semiocast, January 7, 2012, http:// semiocast.com/publications/2012_07_30_Twitter_reaches_half_a_billion_ accounts_140m_in_the_US (accessed January 6, 2013). 29. Article 28E states: 1) “Every person shall be free to embrace and to practice the religion of his/her choice”; 2) “Every person shall have the right to the freedom to hold beliefs, and to express his/her views and thoughts, in accordance with his/her conscience”; and 3) “Every person shall have the right of freedom to associate, to assemble and to express opinions.” Article 28I defınes freedom of thought, conscience, and religion as “human rights that cannot be limited under any circumstances.” The 1945 Constitution of the Republic of Indonesia, English translation (Jakarta: Department of Information, Republic of Indonesia, 1989), http://www.usig.org/countryinfo/laws/Indonesia/ConstitutionIndonesia.doc (accessed June 3, 2009). 30. Samuel P. Huntington, The Third Wave: Democratization in the Late Twentieth Century (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1991). 31. The outbreak of fıghting between Muslims and Christians in Ambon in early 1999 shattered decades of harmony in this province, but the involvement of Suharto loyalists in its instigation renders suspect the impression that the conflict erupted out of natural animosity between the two groups. 32. Globalization via new media offering access to content deemed decadent, particularly pornography, has given legitimacy to radical groups who police morality in the name of countering such corrupting influences. At the same time, globalization via transnational Islamist movements, such as the Muslim Brotherhood and Saudi

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RHETORIC & PUBLIC AFFAIRS Wahhabism, has also fueled radicalism. See Jock Cheetham, “A Battle to Worship in Peace,” Sydney Morning Herald, http://www.smh.com.au/world/a-battle-to-worshipin-peace-20110309-1bntz.html (accessed March 10, 2011). For a more comprehensive analysis of the influence of these movements, see Kyai Haji Abdurrahman Wahid, ed., The Illusion of an Islamic State: The Expansion of Transnational Islamist Movements to Indonesia (Jakarta: The Wahid Institute, Gerakan Bhinneka Tunggal Ika, and The Maarif Institute, 2009), http://www.libforall.org/media/news-stories/expose/Illusion-ofan-Islamic-State-English-Excerpts.pdf (accessed January 17, 2012). Decentralization has given local authorities the autonomy to institute sharia-based bylaws, such as outlawing alcohol and imposing Muslim dress codes on all residents, often enforced by radical militants. Anti-Americanism sparked by post-9/11 U.S. military policy, according to the International Crisis Group, has been a “major boon” to radical Islam. Mark Bowden, “In Indonesian Tug of War, Radical Islam Thrives on Democracy and Despair,” New York Times, April 19, 2007, 9. Jacob Zenn argues similarly that “the current generation of jihadists have risen in a democratic era and have been radicalized by the US-led ‘war on global terror.’” Jacob Zenn, “Religious Powder Keg Sizzles in Indonesia,” Asia Times Online, October 5, 2011, http://www.atimes.com/atimes/ Southeast_Asia/MJ05Ae02.html (accessed August 4, 2012). On fundamentalism and identity fragmentation, see Zubaidah Nazeer, “Pluralism, Tolerance Under Growing Threat,” Straits Times (Singapore), August 8, 2011, http://straitstimes.com.feedsportal.com/c/32792/f/568237/s/172db4c7/l/ 0L0Sstraitstimes0N0CAsia0CSouth0EeastAsia0CStory0CSTIStory0I6991480Bhtml/ story01.htm (accessed August 4, 2012). On the connection between democratization and fundamentalism, see Erich Kolig, “Radical Islam, Islamic Fervour, and Political Sentiments in Central Java, Indonesia,” European Journal of East Asian Studies 4 (2005): 55–86.

33. H. Shofwan Karim, “Kriteria Aliran Sesat,” Minang Forum, August 13, 2010, http://www.minangforum.com/Thread-Kriteria-Aliran-Sesat (accessed December 14, 2011); “Rekayasa Pembusukan Islam,” nahimunkar.com, April 8, 2011, http://nahimunkar.com/4646/rekayasa-pembusukan-islam-2/ (accessed November 28, 2011); “Umat Islam Indonesia Hidangan yang Diperebutkan,” Hidayatullah.com, April 20, 2011, http://hidayatullah.com/read/16511/20/04/2011/umat-islamindonesia-hidangan-yang-diperebutkan.html (accessed December 31, 2011); Dwi Hardianto, “Tuntaskan Ahmadiyah Titik,” SABILI, No. 18 TH XVIII, April 26, 2011, posted on CyberSabili, http://www.sabili.co.id/resensi/sabili-terbaru-no-18-th-xviiituntaskan-ahmadiyah-titik (accessed December 14, 2011); Theresia Sufa, “Ulema


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Asks Ahmadiyah Members to Convert,” Jakarta Post, May 12, 2008, http://www. thejakartapost.com/news/2008/05/12/ulema-asks-ahmadiyah-members-convert.html (accessed August 4, 2012); M. Husni Mubarok, “Don’t Overreact on Ahmadiyah,” Jakarta Post, May 12, 2008, http://www.thejakartapost.com/news/2008/05/12/don039toverreact-ahmadiyah.html (accessed August 4, 2012). 34. See Dwi Hardianto, “Ustadzah Dewi Purnamawati (Pakar Kristologi): Pelacuran Aqidah atas Nama Pluralisme,” CyberSabili.com, November 14, 2011, http://www. sabili.co.id/wawancara/ustadzah-dewi-purnamawati-pakar-kristologi-pelacuranaqidah-atas-nama-pluralisme (accessed December 14, 2011). 35. “Profıle Setara Institute,” [fake] Setara website, creator unknown, February 11, 2011, http://setarainstitute.blogspot.com/2011/02/profıle-setara-institute.html (accessed December 14, 2011). 36. “Bubarkan Islam Liberal & Semua Organisasinya,” comments section, http://www.facebook.com/pages/Bubarkan-Islam-Liberal-Semua-Organisasinya/ 109884340980?v⫽info#info_edit_sections (accessed November 25, 2011). 37. This worry has sparked serious conflict, for example, in the town of Bekasi, West Java. Endy Bayuni, “Interfaith Relations in Indonesia Put to the Litmus Test,” Huffıngton Post, July 13, 2010, http://www.huffıngtonpost.com/endy-bayuni/interfaith-relationsin-i_b_640799.html (accessed August 4, 2012). For extended articulation of the fear of Christianization from a prominent Muslim cleric, see recent Suara Islam interview with H. Abu Deedat Syihab (vice-chair of the Dakwah Committee of the central branch of the Indonesian Council of Ulemas): “Tirani Minoritas Kristen terhadap Mayoritas Islam di Indonesia,” Suara Islam, November 4–18, 2011, http://www.suara-islam.com/tabloid.php?tab_id⫽27 (accessed November 28, 2011). 38. See, for example, “Honour is from Allah Alone,” Raflesh blog, September 30, 2010, http://raflesh-anggar2.blogspot.com/2010/10/honour-is-from-allah-alone.html (accessed November 28, 2011). Similarly, H. Abu Deedat Syihab cites Islam’s 350-year struggle against Christianization by Dutch colonials and warns that if Christians become the majority, they will oppress Muslims as Spain did in the past and the Philippines does today. Syihab, “Tirani Minoritas Kristen terhadap Mayoritas Islam di Indonesia.” 39. Former presidential spokeswoman Dewi Fortuna Anwar, for example, argues, “In Indonesia we have a majority with a minority complex.” Jason Tedjasukmana, “Indonesia’s Artists vs. Muslim Extremists,” Time Magazine, July 7, 2010, http://www.time.com/time/world/article/0,8599,2001698,00.html (accessed August 4, 2012).

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40. Tedjasukmana, “Indonesia’s Artists vs. Muslim Extremists.” See also Syihab, “Tirani Minoritas Kristen terhadap Mayoritas Islam di Indonesia.” 41. “Awas Aliran Sesat Bakal Merajalela,” Suara Islam, January 22, 2010, http://www.suara-islam.com/read/index/520/Awas-Aliran/-Sesat-Bakal-MerajalelaAd-Dakwah-Eoisi-57- (accessed May 12, 2013). 42. Hardianto, “Ustadzah Dewi Purnamawati.” 43. See “Banyak Muslimah di Ambon Menjadi Murtad. Kemanakah Engkau Wahai Ulama?” Info Terpanas, November 27, 2011, http://www.infoterpanas.com/2011/11/ banyak-muslimah-di-ambon-menjadi-murtad.html (accessed December 18, 2011). 44. Interview with Abu Deedat Shihabuddin MH, “Kasus Terbanyak, Pemuda Kristen Hamili Gadis Muslimah,” Majalah Suara Hidayatullah, July 2001. Posted August 8, 2010 on Un2kmU website, http://un2kmu.wordpress.com/2010/08/08/inilah-berbagaicara-kristenisasi-yang-dilakukan-di-indonesia/ (accessed December 18, 2011). Shihabuddin also goes by the name “H. Abu Deedat Syihab” in other sources. See also “Pemurtadan dan Kristenisasi Dilakukan dengan Berbagai Cara,” Penanggulangan Bahaya Kristenisasi dan Pemurtadan (Facebook page), posted June 4, 2010, http://id-id.facebook.com/note.php?note_id⫽132891113391357 (accessed December 18, 2011); and “Waspada! 1001 cara Kristenisasi,” Hidayatullah.com, September 3, 2002, www.hidayatullah.com. This last article has circulated widely on the Internet. It was published originally on Hidayatullah.com by writers with the pen names ahmad, dodi nurja, amz, and pam, but has since been removed. As of this writing, it can be found, with other articles representative of online anti-Christianization rhetoric, on the site ANTI KRISTENISASI at http://antikristenisasi.multiply.com/?&show_interstitial⫽ 1&u⫽ (last accessed August 4, 2012). 45. Interview with Shihabuddin MH, “Kasus Terbanyak, Pemuda Kristen Hamili Gadis Muslimah.” 46. Kent A. Ono and John M. Sloop, Shifting Borders: Rhetoric, Immigration, and California’s Proposition 187 (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 2002), 118. 47. See, for example, “Ternyata Kristenisasi Merajalela,” Sepuluh Gantrung, web log, January 2010, http://10gantrung.blogspot.com/2010/01/ternyata-kristenisasimerajalela.html (accessed December 18, 2011); see also “Menerut al-Qur’an dan al-Hadits, Kemenangan Gereja Itu Sama dengan Fitnahnya Dajjal,” tafakur.xtgem.com, n.d., http://tafakur.xtgem.com/kemenangangerejafıtnahdajjal (accessed December 18, 2011); “Awas Aliran Sesat Bakal Merajalela.” On diffıculties Christians face in obtaining or keeping permits for church structures in predominantly Muslim neighborhoods, see U.S. Department of State, “Report on


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International Religious Freedom,” 2006 and 2008, at http://www.state.gov/g/drl/rls/irf (accessed May 21, 2009). 48. Shihabuddin MH, “Kasus Terbanyak, Pemuda Kristen Hamili Gadis Muslimah.” 49. The passages he cites are Matthew 28:19 and Mark 16:15. Syihab, “Tirani Minoritas Kristen terhadap Mayoritas Islam di Indonesia.” 50. “Christians Under Attack in Indonesia Says Top Bishop,” Jakarta Globe, October 14, 2011, http://www.thejakartaglobe.com/home/christians-under-attack-in-indonesia-topbishop-says/469658 (accessed August 4, 2012); “Mobs Burn 3 ‘Illegal Churches’ in Riau,” 2. 51. All quotes from Nivell Rayda, “Shiites Fear They Are the Next Target,” Jakarta Globe, March 14, 2011, http://www.thejakartaglobe.com/home/special-report-shiites-fearthey-are-the-next-target/428746 (accessed August 4, 2012). Audio fıles of Farid’s sermons can be downloaded at: http://www.archive.org/details/CeramahUst.FaridOkbah-4 (accessed August 4, 2012). 52. Leaders jailed have included Lia Aminuddin, given two years in 2006 for leading the God’s Kingdom of Eden sect, and Ahmad Moshaddeq, leader of Al-Qiyadah Al-Islamiyah. See “Indonesia’s Treatment of ‘Deviant’ Sects Under the Spotlight,” AFP, January 9, 2008, http://afp.google.com/article/ALeqM5gmi1K5KfNRvK1Kcmd3WKUqnHVjg (accessed August 4, 2012). 53. For the 200,000 estimate, see Bramantyo Prijosusilo, “The Rise of Extremist Islam in Indonesia,” New America Media, April 30, 2008, http://news.newamericamedia.org/ news/view_article.html?article_id⫽ce4a81c4a2a115fd6be0b2b76174c500 (accessed August 4, 2012). For Ahmadiyah representatives’ estimate of 500,000, see Presi Mandari, “Muslim Sect Braces for Indonesia Ramadan Violence,” AFP, August 2, 2011, http://www.abs-cbnnews.com/global-fılipino/world/08/02/11/muslim-sect-bracesindonesia-ramadan-violence (accessed August 4, 2012). For details on Ahmadiyah’s history and much higher estimates, see Erni Budiwanti, “Pluralism Collapses: A Study of the Jama’ah Ahmadiyah Indonesia and Its Persecution,” Asia Research Institute Working Paper Series No. 117 (Singapore: Asia Research Institute, May 2009). 54. In April 2008, a spokesperson, Ahmad Mubarik, stated that never in its 100-year history had Ahmadiyah presented Mirza Ghulam Ahmad as replacing Muhammad, and complained the group’s beliefs continued to be misrepresented for political gain. “Ahmadiyah Mau Lapor PBB,” Kompas.com, April 16, 2008, http://lipsus.kompas.com/ edukasi/read/2008/04/16/20025056/Ahmadiyah.Mau.Lapor.PBB (accessed May 12, 2013).

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55. “Gubernur Kalbar Didesak Larang Ahmadiyah,” Jawa Pos, March 18, 2011, http://www.jpnn.com/read/2011/03/18/87079/Gubernur-Kalbar-Didesak-LarangAhmadiyah (accessed January 23, 2012). 56. “Para Ulama Desak Pemerintah Larang Ahmadiyah,” Multiply.com, January 12, 2008, http://khoirzahra75id.multiply.com/journal/item/63 (accessed December 19, 2011). 57. “Sumber Konflik dan Penoda Agama Kenapa Malah Dimanjakan?” nahimunkar.com, June 8, 2008, http://nahimunkar.com/80/sumber-konflik-dan-penoda-agama/ (accessed December 18, 2011). 58. Signifıcantly, rather than dominated by a few people debating, nearly all of the 40⫹ posts in the comments chain on this site condemning liberal organizations are by different people. “Bubarkan Islam Liberal & Semua Organisasinya,” comments section. 59. “KH. Cholil Ridwan: Siap Mufaraqah, Jika MUI Tidak Bubarkan Ahmadiyah,” Voice of al-Islam, February 16, 2011, http://www.voa-islam.com/news/upclose/2011/02/16/ 13346/kh-cholil-ridwan-siap-mufaraqah-jika-mui-tidak-bubarkan-ahmadiyah/ (accessed November 28, 2011). 60. Nurbaiti, “Ahmadiyah Bans.” 61. Niniek Karmini, “No Shame for Religious Killings in Indonesian Town,” AP, August 9, 2011, http://www.pewforum.org/Religion-News/No-shame-for-religious-killings-inIndonesian-town.aspx (accessed August 4, 2012). 62. Karmini, “No Shame for Religious Killings in Indonesian Town.” 63. See, for example, “Indonesia Mob Victim: No Justice for Minorities,” Seattle Times, August 15, 2011, http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/nationworld/2015918816_ apasindonesiareligiouskillings.html?syndication⫽rss (accessed August 4, 2012). 64. Nazeer, “Pluralism, Tolerance Under Growing Threat.” 65. “Why Is Islamic Extremism Growing in Indonesia?” Compass Direct News, October 3, 2011. http://www.compassdirect.org/english/country/indonesia/article_121316.html/ (accessed August 4, 2012). Cain Nunns, “Indonesia: New Proof of Hardliners with Military Backing,” GlobalPost, September 5, 2011, http://www.globalpost.com/ dispatch/news/regions/asia-pacifıc/indonesia/110829/indonesia-army-military-islamicextremism-suharto-hardliners (accessed August 4, 2012). 66. Though Indonesia is not an Islamic state, MUI’s state sponsorship stems from its creation by Suharto as part of an effort to interweave Muslim interests into state structures and thereby exert a “corporatist control” over Islam, long feared by the regime as a “potentially disruptive religious force.” Rita Smith Kipp, Dissociated Identities: Ethnicity, Religion, and Class in an Indonesian Society (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1996), 94.


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67. Secularism is problematic for MUI, according to scholar Jeremy Menchik, because it rejects the separation of religion and state (which is a relatively new development for MUI). “The secular sphere,” Menchik explains, “is the enemy of a world where religious piety, not free choice, is the central ordering principle.” Liberalism is problematic for the same reason, though its inclusion in the fatwa was also a challenge to the Islamic Liberal Network (JIL). The condemnation of pluralism, by contrast, focuses less on the political than the religious realm, rejecting not all pluralism but specifıcally the idea that all religions are equally valid and that heaven accommodates people of all faiths. See Jeremy Menchik, “Illiberal But Not Intolerant: Understanding the Indonesian Council of Ulamas,” Inside Indonesia, No. 90: Oct–Dec 2007, http://www.insideindonesia.org/weekly-articles/illiberal-but-notintolerant (accessed May 12, 2013). 68. “Preachers Told to Support Controversial MUI Edicts,” Jakarta Post, August 8, 2005, http://www.thejakartapost.com/news/2005/08/08/preachers-told-support-controversialmui-edicts.html (accessed August 4, 2012). 69. This fatwa affırms and expands on a 1980 fatwa declaring the Qadiani Ahmadiyah “a non-Islamic group, heretical and deviated.” Majelis Ulama Indonesia, 2nd National Conference, May 26 –June 1, 1980. 70. “NU Criticizes Controversial MUI Edicts,” Jakarta Post, August 6, 2005, http://www.thejakartapost.com/news/2005/08/06/nu-criticizes-controversial-muiedicts.html (accessed August 4, 2012). 71. “FPI: Brute Force,” Tempo Magazine, June 10–16, 2008, 12–20, 22–23. 72. James Balowski, “Indonesian Government Blamed for Religious Violence,” Ahmadiyya Times, April 9, 2011, http://ahmadiyyatimes.wordpress.com/2011/04/09/ indonesian-government-blamed-for-religious-violence/ (accessed August 4, 2012). Pandaya, “The State of Oppression Against Minority Groups,” Jakarta Post, April 28, 2008, http://www.thejakartapost.com/news/2008/04/29/the-state-oppression-againstminority-groups.html (accessed August 4, 2012). 73. “NU Criticizes Controversial MUI Edicts.” 74. “Ahmadiyah: Scrutinizing Faiths, Stifling Beliefs,” Tempo Magazine, May 6–12, 2008 (cover story). Key in the 12-point statement is a declaration that Ahmadiyah’s founder, Mirza Ghulam Ahmad, was merely “a teacher, a bringer of good tidings whose duty was to strengthen the Islamic message brought by Prophet Muhammad.” 75. Theresia Sufa and Panca Nugraha, “Ahmadiyah Mosque Burned as Protests Grow,” Jakarta Post, April 29, 2008, 1. 76. Nivell Rayda, “Exclusive: Secret Report Reveals How BIN Misread Threat to Ahmadiyah,” Jakarta Globe, April 30, 2011, http://www.thejakartaglobe.com/home/

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RHETORIC & PUBLIC AFFAIRS exclusive-secret-report-reveals-how-bin-misread-threat-to-ahmadiyah/438263 (accessed August 6, 2012).

77. “PPP ‘Offıcially’ Rejects Ahmadiyah,” Jakarta Post, April 2, 2011, http://www. thejakartapost.com/news/2011/04/02/ppp-‘offıcially’-rejects-ahmadiyah.html (accessed August 6, 2012). 78. Mathias Hariyadi, “Indonesia, War on the Ahmadi Considered Blasphemous by Government and Islamic Leaders,” Asia News, March 2, 2011, http://www.asianews.it/ news-en/Indonesia,-war-on-the-Ahmadi-considered-blasphemous-by-government-andIslamic-leaders-20924.html (accessed August 6, 2012). 79. Much of this pressure has come from MUI. See “MUI Urges Government to Ban Ahmadiya,” Jakarta Post, March 8, 2011, http://www.thejakartapost.com/news/2011/ 03/08/mui-urges-government-ban-ahmadiyah.html (accessed August 6, 2012). 80. Offıcial name: “The Law on the Prevention of the Misuse and Disgrace of Religion.” 81. Yuli Tri Suwarni, “Mayor Uses Security as Excuse to Ban Ahmadiyah,” Jakarta Post, May 16, 2008, 12; Yuli Krisna, “Ahmadiyah Urge W. Java to Revoke Ban that Fuels Violence,” Jakarta Globe, March 31, 2011, http://www.thejakartaglobe.com/indonesia/ ahmadiyah-urge-w-java-to-revoke-ban-that-fuels-violence/432589 (accessed August 6, 2012); “Indonesian Provinces’ Ban on Ahmadiyah Unconstitutional,” Radio Australia, April 7, 2011, http://groups.google.com/group/joyonews/browse_thread/ thread/d0f1bae08e7033d (accessed December 18, 2011). 82. At the same time, offıcials also portray bans on religious minority activities as a way to protect the minorities from mob violence. See Camelia Pasandaran, “Ministry Defends Regional Bans On Ahmadiyah,” Jakarta Globe, March 10, 2011, http:// www.thejakartaglobe.com/archive/ministry-defends-regional-bans-on-ahmadiyah/ (accessed May 12, 2013). 83. “Ahmadis to Drop Further Legal Proceedings in Cikeusik Killings,” Jakarta Post, August 18, 2011, 3. 84. “Ahmadiyah Women Are ‘Denied Rights,’” Jakarta Post, May 24, 2008, http://www. thejakartapost.com/news/2008/05/24/ahmadiyah-women-are-039denied-rights039.html (accessed August 4, 2012). 85. Panca Nugraha, “Ahmadiyah Refugees Denied Voting Rights,” Jakarta Post, June 8, 2010, 9. On Ahmadiyah’s possibly permanent refugee status, see Fitri, “‘We Are Ready to Leave This Country’: Displaced Ahmadis Plead for Answers,” Jakarta Globe, September 13, 2010, http://www.thejakartaglobe.com/home/we-are-ready-to-leavethis-country-displaced-ahmadis-plead-for-answers/395776 (accessed August 8, 2012); Panca Nugraha, “Bleak prospects for Ahmadis,” Jakarta Post, December 19, 2011, http://www.thejakartapost.com/news/2011/12/19/bleak-prospects-ahmadis.html


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(accessed August 4, 2012); “Rencana Relokasi Jemaah Ahmadiyah Dianggap Wacana,” Metrotvnews.com, November 29, 2010, http://metrotvnews.com/metromain/ newscat/nusantara/2010/11/29/35333/Rencana-Relokasi-Jemaah-AhmadiyahDianggap-Wacana (accessed January 22, 2012). 86. Mary Douglas, Purity and Danger: An Analysis of the Concepts of Pollution and Taboo (London: Routledge, 1984), 4. 87. Muslim Abdurachman of the National Awakening Party has made this point, also noting, “Rapid changes in social systems have led people to (become confused) in fınding out which norms are better for them” in a changing world. “New Sects ‘Screwing Up’ Islam Teachings,” Jakarta Post, November 4, 2007, http://www.thejakartapost.com/news/2007/11/04/new-sects-quotquotscrewingupquotquot-islam-teachings.html (accessed August 4, 2012). See also Muhamad Ali, “The Impact of MUI Fatwas on Freedom of Religion in Indonesia,” Jakarta Post, August 8, 2005, http://www.thejakartapost.com/news/2005/08/08/impact-mui-fatwasfreedom-religion-indonesia.html (accessed August 4, 2012). 88. Burke, “The Rhetoric of Hitler’s ‘Battle,’” 122. For a compelling study of the forging of unity through the rhetorical process of “enemy-making” in America’s formative years, see Jeremy Engels, Enemyship: Democracy and Counter-Revolution in the Early Republic (East Lansing: Michigan State University Press, 2010). 89. Ellens, “Religious Metaphors Can Kill,” 264. 90. Girard calls this a “mimetic crisis” precipitated by a blurring of hierarchical distinctions that once clearly delineated leaders, or “models,” from followers, restraining both from seeing each other as rivals and descending into reciprocal violence. René Girard, Things Hidden since the Foundation of the World (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1987), 19; René Girard, Violence and the Sacred, trans. Patrick Gregory (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1979), 81–82. 91. Ellens, “Religious Metaphors Can Kill,” 267. 92. Karmini, “No Shame for Religious Killings in Indonesian Town.” 93. Ellens, “Religious Metaphors Can Kill,” 267. 94. Coetzee, “Religious Roots of Terrorism,” 2. Citing D. Leder, The Absent Body (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1990), 1, 133. 95. See, for example, Hans-Martin Killguss, “The Meaning of Purity for Man’s Relationship to God in Islam,” in “Islam and Christianity,” Journal of the Institute of Islamic Studies 2 (2006): 11–17; Yu៮ suf Qara a៮ wI and Waseem Yaqub, Islamic Concept of Hygiene As Seen by the Sunnah (Cairo, Egypt: El-Falah Foundation, 1997); Remzi Kuscular, Cleanliness in Islam (Clifton, NJ: Tughra Books, 2008).

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96. Mark Johnson, The Body in the Mind: The Bodily Basis of Meaning, Imagination and Reason (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1987), xv. 97. Rayda, “Exclusive: Secret Report Reveals How BIN Misread Threat to Ahmadiyah”; Ina Parlina, “House Told To Scrap ‘Intolerant’ Bill,” Jakarta Post, November 15, 2011, 1. 98. Ulma Haryanto and Elisabeth Oktofani, “Police, Military ‘Intimidate’ Bogor Ahmadis to Convert,” Jakarta Globe, March 14, 2011, http://www.thejakartaglobe.com/home/ police-military-intimidate-bogor-ahmadis-to-convert/428748 (accessed August 4, 2012). 99. Haryanto and Oktofani, “Police, Military ‘Intimidate’ Bogor Ahmadis to Convert.” 100. Observers Pandaya and Muhammad Nafık, for example, give high praise to the leader of the al-Quiyadah sect for “admitting he was only a phony prophet” after being visited by Muslim scholars in jail. Such “dialog,” they argue, shows “that a ‘lost’ lamb can return after the shepherd shows the way.” Pandaya and Muhammad Nafık, “A Good Precedence Set in Sectarian Conflict Resolution,” Jakarta Post, November 24, 2007, http://www.thejakartapost.com/news/2007/11/24/good-precedence-sectarianconflict-resolution.html# (accessed August 4, 2012). 101. Michael Setiawan, “A Bravery Test for National Police,” Jakarta Post, October 9, 2007, http://www.thejakartapost.com/news/2007/10/09/bravery-test-national-police.html (accessed August 4, 2012); Irawaty Wardany, “FPI Sets Its Eyes On Underground Music,” Jakarta Post, March 20, 2011, 2. Numerous other cases also demonstrate this potential. In Aceh, police frequently arrest and even cut off the hair of women not wearing a headscarf. Eve Warburton, “No Longer a Choice,” Inside Indonesia 89: Jan–Mar 2007, http://www.insideindonesia.org/feature-editions/no-longer-a-choice (accessed May 12, 2013). In 2010, a mob in the same province paraded an adulterous couple, naked, through their village, tied them to a post, and then beat them, before authorities sentenced them to nine public lashes each. “Secular Indonesia Outraged Over Aceh Mob Justice,” AFP, April 9, 2010, http://www.thejakartaglobe.com/home/ secular-indonesia-outraged-over-aceh-mob-justice/368553 (accessed August 4, 2012). With its special status as the fırst province allowed to impose full sharia law, Aceh is generally at the forefront of religion-based behavioral restrictions. But in other areas of the country new moral policing is also gaining offıcial sanction, such as in Tangerang, where a woman can be arrested for dressing in any way that might suggest she is a prostitute. Warburton, “No Longer a Choice.” 102. Emphasis in the original. Said, “An Ideology of Difference,” 40–41. 103. Among the most prominent of such groups are Hizbut Tahrir, Jemaah Islameeyah, Negara Islam Indonesia, and Majelis Mujahidin Indonesia.


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104. Slavoj Žižek, Enjoy Your Symptom! Jacques Lacan in Hollywood and Out (London: Routledge, 2000), 89. This observation echoes Andrew Abalahin’s analysis of the nation-state’s reliance on a “fıction of unanimity” based on exclusion to maintain cohesion. Abalahin, “A Sixth Religion?” 141. In his study of metaphorical representations of immigrants as “pollutants,” David Cisneros addresses similar unifying functions of pollution imagery, but then also emphasizes the impact of such imagery on identity, including identities that nonimmigrant Americans form of themselves that are normalized and made visible in the delineation between clean and contaminated. Cisneros, “Contaminated Communities,” 591–92. 105. Tony Meyers, Slavoj Žižek (London: Routledge, 2003), 108. In Žižek’s words, “What appears as the hindrance to society’s full identity with itself is actually its positive condition.” Žižek, Enjoy Your Symptom! 90. 106. Rayda, “Shiites Fear They Are the Next Target.” 107. David D. Kirkpatrick, “Egypt’s Christians Fear Violence as Changes Embolden Islamists,” New York Times, May 31, 2011, A1; “Tunisia: High Death Toll Challenges Claims of Smooth Transition,” Los Angeles Times, May 22, 2011, http://latimesblogs. latimes.com/babylonbeyond/2011/05/tunisia-uprising-violence-repression-humanrights-torture-.html (accessed August 4, 2012). 108. Government offıcials, particularly the president, are in fact now in an increasingly diffıcult position after years of tacit support for antiminority militancy, unable, it seems, to reign in groups who continue to launch new offensives against religious minorities. These have included a mob attack, unchecked by police, on a Shia community in Sampang, East Java in early January 2012, that forced 351 Shiite Muslims to flee and leave their homes open to arson and looting, as well as the ongoing standoff between Christians of the GKI Yasmin congregation of Bogor and the FPI, the Islamic Reform Movement, and the Muslim Communications Forum, backed by Bogor’s mayor, all blocking the entrance to the GKI Yasmin church despite a Supreme Court ruling affırming the validity of the church’s building permit. 109. Nurdin Hasan, “Deputy Mayor: Punk Community a ‘New Social Disease,’” Jakarta Globe, December 14, 2011, http://www.thejakartaglobe.com/home/deputy-mayorpunk-community-a-new-social-disease/484728 (accessed August 4, 2012). Other sanctions included forced tooth-brushing, immersion in water “for ‘spiritual’ cleansing,” confıscation of the youths’ clothes, and subjection to 10 days of “military-style discipline and religious classes.” Fakhrurradizie Gade, “Hard-line Indonesian Police Shave Punkers’ Mohawks,” AP, December 14, 2011, http://seattletimes. nwsource.com/html/nationworld/2017009127_apasindonesianopunks.html (accessed August 4, 2012).

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110. M. Lane Bruner, Strategies of Remembrance: The Rhetorical Dimensions of National Identity Construction (Columbia: University of South Carolina Press, 2002), 92. 111. The National Counter Terrorism Agency (BNPT), for example, in hosting anti-radicalism seminars, has confronted “counter-seminars” by radicals, who consider BNPT an “anti-Islam institution,” and question the credentials of its chair to speak on numerous Islamic concepts, such as al-wala’ wal bara ’ (loyalty and enmity), jihad, and bai’ah (oath of allegiance). English translations in source. V. Arianti and Nur Irfani Saripi, “Indonesia’s Counter Radicalisation Programme: Challenges from Radicals,” S. Rajaratnam School of International Studies (RSIS) Commentaries, No. 001/2012. Haedar Nashir argues such silencing is particularly effective when fundamentalists “convey a puritanical and militant Islamic ideology, so that whoever views them as problematic will himself be accused of causing problems. To oppose them,” he continues, “means to be Islamophobic, or opposed to religious unity.” Haedar Nashir, Manifestasi Gerakan Tarbiyah: Bagaimana Sikap Muhammadiyah? Fifth printing (Yogyakarta: Suara Muhammadiyah, 2007), 59, quote and English translation in Wahid, ed., The Illusion of an Islamic State. 112. Richard G. Kraince, “The Challenge to Religious Liberty in Indonesia,” Executive Summary Backgrounder No. 2279 (Washington, DC: Heritage Foundation, 2009), http://www.heritage.org/research/reports/2009/06/the-challenge-to-religious-liberty-inindonesia (accessed November 22, 2012). 113. For example, James W. Morris, author of the oft-cited book, Orientations: Islamic Thought in a World Civilization, told the Jakarta Post, “Once intolerance grows, it will become a disease that will destroy the society.” See “‘Wise’ Politicians Key to Religious Tolerance,” Jakarta Post, March 28, 2011, 2. Similarly, in his introduction to The Illusion of an Islamic State, former President Abdurrahman Wahid calls extremist Islam in Indonesia a “virulent ideology” whose doctrines “have sprouted like mushrooms in the rainy season.” Wahid, ed., The Illusion of an Islamic State. 114. Dicky Christanto and Hasyim Widhiarto, “Politicians Question Government Inaction,” Jakarta Post, June 29, 2010, 1; “Govt ‘Should Introduce’ Pancasila Through Pop Culture,” Jakarta Post, June 6, 2011, 3; Arya Dipa, “Pancasila Will Be Compulsory Curriculum in W. Java Schools,” Jakarta Post, May 26, 2011, 5. 115. Transcript in Rachmadin Ismail, “Pidato Lengkap BJ Habibie yang Memukau,” detikNews, June 1, 2011, http://us.detiknews.com/read/2011/06/01/113343/1651577/ 10/pidato-lengkap-bj-habibie-yang-memukau?n991102605 (accessed January 7, 2012). 116. See “TNI Sebagai Pengaman dan Pengawal Pancasila,” Pos Kota, June 17, 2011, http://www.poskota.co.id/berita-terkini/2011/06/17/tni-sebagai-pengaman-danpengawal-pancasila (accessed January 17, 2012).

PURIFYING ISLAM IN POST-AUTHORITARIAN INDONESIA 117. Bruner, Strategies of Remembrance, 94. 118. At a minimum, the changes that have shaken religious hierarchies in Indonesia—including freedoms brought by Suharto’s fall, multiplying Islamic political parties, and wide access to alternative interpretations of Islam via the Internet—continue to frustrate attempts by both new and old groups to consolidate power. 119. John Sidel, “The New Trinity: Religion, Knowledge and Power,” The Straits Times, October 24, 2007, 21.

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