Delmus 

Puneri Salim

The Transnational
and the Local in
the Politics of
Islam
The Case of West Sumatra, Indonesia
The Transnational and the Local
in the Politics of Islam
Delmus Puneri Salim

The Transnational and the

Local in the Politics of Islam
The Case of West Sumatra, Indonesia

123
Delmus Puneri Salim
The State Islamic College STAIN Manado
Manado
Indonesia

ISBN 978-3-319-15412-1 ISBN 978-3-319-15413-8 (eBook)

DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-15413-8

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Acknowledgments

This book is based on my Ph.D. thesis at the Faculty of Arts and Social Sciences,
University of Sydney. Credit is due to Springer and the reviewers for recom-
mending and publishing this book and making it available to a wider audience.
Chapter 2 of this book has been published in the Journal of Indonesian Islam, the
State Islamic University (UIN) Sunan Ampel Surabaya entitled ‘Islam, Politics and
Identity in West Sumatra’.
Many people have contributed to this book along the way. I owe a great debt of
gratitude to my supervisor, Professor Michele Ford. Without her commitment,
guidance and deadlines, the completion of this manuscript would not have been
possible. She has asked many questions and offered many insightful comments, and
helped me with the editing of the manuscript. I would also like to express my
gratitude to my associate supervisor, Professor Adrian Vickers, whose historical
insight has been very beneficial, to Dr. Novi Djenar, who advised me on critical
discourse analysis, and to Dr. Keith Foulcher, who went beyond the call of duty in
his copyediting and proofreading of the text. I would also like to express my great
appreciation to Dr. Minako Sakai, Dr. Nadirsyah Hosen and one anonymous
reviewer of my thesis. My thanks, too, to my colleagues and friends in the
Department of Indonesian Studies, Dr. Tiffany Tsao, Iskandar Nugraha, Thushara
Dibley, Wayne Palmer, Martin Sirait and Elizabeth Kramer, and to the library staff,
who helped me access the materials I needed for finishing the manuscript.
I owe a debt of immense gratitude to my beloved wife, Lies Kryati, who has
supported me in every way possible. I also need to mention my daughters, Chal-
ifaturrahmi and Kharissa, who gave me renewed energy when I was tired of writing
and my brothers and their families, who have given me the strength to finish the
manuscript. Finally, I wish to express my sincerest gratitude to my late father,
Sarwan Salim, and my mother, Suriati, whose love of education has motivated me

v
vi Acknowledgments

to pursue my studies. My father passed away in the early month of my doctoral

study in 2008. He had always reminded me, a village boy, that education would
change my life. He was right and I hope he would have been proud of my work.
I dedicate this manuscript to him.

February 2013 Delmus Puneri Salim

Abstract

Since the implementation of decentralisation, local governments in majority

Muslim regions across Indonesia have begun to promote, and in many cases, pass
regulations that mandate forms of social or economic behaviour seen to be com-
patible with Islam. This book situates the political construction of Islamic behaviour
in West Sumatra and in Indonesia more generally within a historical context in
which rulers have in some way engaged with aspects of Islamic practice since the
Islamic kingdom era. Its main concern has been to show that while formal local
Islamic regulations of this kind constitute a new development, their introduction has
been a product of the same kinds of interactions between international, national and
local elements that have characterised the relationship between Islam and politics
through the course of Indonesian history. In doing so, the book challenges the
scholarly tendency to over-emphasise local political concerns when explaining this
phenomenon, arguing that it is necessary to forefront the complex relationship
between local politics and developments in the wider Islamic world.
Using detailed case studies of four domains of regulation (Islamic finance, zakat,
education, and behaviour and dress) in a number of local government areas within
the province, the book traces the contours of this relationship as expressed in public
discourse and policy-making, as represented in the local press. This analysis reveals
that although local factors have been stronger than the influence of global Islamic
networks in some domains, in others, models offered by the Middle East have been
as, if not more, influential. In all cases, however, political motivations have been an
important driver of Islamic regulation, ultimately eclipsing the social and economic
motivations of regional governments’ engagement in these domains. As this book
shows, these political ends are not driven by an ideological commitment to
Islamisation, but rather by a much more mundane concern with garnering and
maintaining political power in the context of decentralisation, albeit in some
instances with increasing emphasis on the forms of religious expression promoted
transnationally by the Arab states.

vii
Contents

1 Introduction. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1
Islamic Regulation in the Regions: A Review of the Literature . . . . . . 4
Islamic Regulation as Social Product . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7
Transnationalism . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9
The Social and Economic Meanings of Islamic Regulation . . . . . . . . . 11
Methodology. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12
Case Study Location . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12
Documentary Analysis . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13
Interviews and Observer-Participation. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 14
Book Outline . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15
References . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17

2 Islam, Politics and Identity . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 21

West Sumatra, the Malay World and the Coming of Islam . . . . . . . . . 22
The Arrival of Sufism . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 25
The Coming of Syaria-Oriented Islam . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 26
The Regulation of Islam Under the Dutch. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 28
Nationalism and Islam . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 30
The Rise of Political Parties . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 32
Legacies of the Japanese Occupation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 33
Islamic Politics After Independence . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 34
A West Sumatran Perspective . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 37
Islam and Politics in Suharto’s Indonesia . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 40
Islam and Identity Since Suharto . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 44
Conclusion: The Assertion of Islamic Identity in West Sumatra . . . . . . 46
References . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 47

ix
x Contents

3 Islamic Finance . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 53
The Religious and Social Meanings of Islamic Finance . . . . . . . . . . . 54
Modern Islamic Banking . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 56
Islamic Financial Institutions and Products . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 58
Assessments of Modern Islamic Banking . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 60
Islamic Finance in Indonesia . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 61
Hiccups in the System . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 63
Islamic Banking Products Offered in Indonesia . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 65
Islamic Finance in West Sumatra . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 67
The Public Discourse of Islamic Finance . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 67
Local Government Policy on Islamic Finance . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 72
Conclusion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 75
References . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 75

4 Zakat . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 79
The Religious and Social Meanings of Zakat. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 79
Zakat as Taxation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 82
The Administration of Zakat in Modern States . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 82
Transnational Zakat Mechanisms . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 85
Zakat in Indonesia . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 86
Developments in the Post-Suharto Period . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 88
Zakat in West Sumatra . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 93
The Public Discourse of Zakat . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 94
The Regional Regulation of Zakat . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 97
Conclusion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 99
References . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 100

5 Islamic Education. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 103

The Origins of Islamic Education. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 103
Global Perspectives on Islamic Education . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 104
The Development of Islamic Education in Indonesia . . . . . . . . . . . . . 107
Islamic Education in West Sumatra . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 112
The Public Discourse of Islamic Education . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 116
Policies Promoting Islamic Education. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 119
Conclusion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 122
References . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 123

6 Behaviour and Dress . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 127

The Religious and Social Meanings of Behaviour and Dress . . . . . . . . 128
Behaviour and Dress in the Islamic World . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 131
Behaviour and Dress in Indonesia . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 136
After Independence . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 136
Increasing Legal and Social Control . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 140
Contents xi

Behaviour and Dress in West Sumatra . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 143

The Public Discourse of Behaviour and Dress . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 145
Local Government Policy on Behaviour and Dress . . . . . . . . . . . . 149
Conclusion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 151
References . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 151

7 Conclusion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 155
Transnational Factors . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 157
National Factors . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 158
Local Factors . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 159
The Politics of Islam in West Sumatra . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 161

Appendix A: Newspaper Articles . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 163

Appendix B: Islamic Laws and Regulations . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 167

Abbreviations and Glossary . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 169

Chapter 1
Introduction

Abstract This chapter examines relationship between Islam and identity in West
Sumatra. It traces the impact of Islam’s long-standing place in Minangkabau history
and identity politics and the intersection between developments in the province and
trends at the national and international levels. The chapter demonstrates that local
power-brokers engage to a greater or lesser extent with the flow of ideas within the
transnational community of Muslim believers and the institutions that seek to
formalise that transnational community. The chapter argues they have a pragmatic
approach and are motivated by the desire to gain and maintain authority. They
engage with Islamic concepts in public discourse and by their targeting of particular
areas of social and economic life for regulation rather than promoting the com-
prehensive adoption of Syari’a.

Keywords Transnationalism
Local politics
Islamic regulations

The year 1998 marked an important shift in the social, economic and political
history of Indonesia. The devaluation of the Indonesian rupiah during the Asian
Financial Crisis which began the previous year led to a general slump in the
Indonesian economy which weakened the Suharto regime and ultimately developed
into a major political crisis. In May 1998 that crisis precipitated the end of Suharto’s
New Order regime.1 The collapse of the New Order, which had ruled Indonesia for
more than three decades, unleashed forces that resulted in political and social
transformation. After a short period during which the Suharto loyalist, B.J. Habibie,
served as president—a period in which deep changes were made to Indonesia’s
political culture—in June 1999 Indonesians participated in Indonesia’s first dem-
ocratic legislative election since the mid 1950s. The most significant initiative of the
government of Indonesia’s next president, Abdurrahman Wahid, was the imple-
mentation of decentralisation in January 2001.2
One consequence of decentralisation has been that regional governments now
have the authority to create local laws pertaining to a wide range of matters,

1
Scholars have written extensively on the crisis. See, for example, Aspinall, Feith and van
Klinken (1999), Singh (1999) and Forrester and May (1999).
2
For a discussion of the Wahid presidency see, for example, Liddle (2001) and Barton (2002).

© Springer International Publishing Switzerland 2015 1

D.P. Salim, The Transnational and the Local in the Politics of Islam,
DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-15413-8_1
2 1 Introduction

including local culture. Although Law No. 22/1999 concerning Regional Auton-
omy puts religion—along with defence and security, foreign affairs, the judiciary
and monetary policy—under the administration of the central government, many
regional governments adopted the view that everyday manifestations of Islam are a
necessary part of local culture, and thus fall under their jurisdiction. Consequently,
there has been a rapid spread of attempts to mandate an ‘Islamic approach’ to
various aspects of social and economic behaviour, both through discourse and
social expectations, and also through local regulations (peraturan daerah). Within
just a few years, regional governments in as many as 24 of Indonesia’s 33 provinces
had passed local regulations seeking to encourage or impose some aspect of
‘Islamic’ practice (Lindsey 2008; Crouch 2009).
Concerned with the impact of these regulations and their encroachment on
central jurisdiction, the central government tried to limit their proliferation through
Law No.10/2004 concerning the Formation of Legislation, which reaffirmed that
religion is a national matter and decreed that lawmakers must respect diversity and
equality under the law.3 However, local Islamic regulations continued to emerge on
a broad range of issues pertaining to public order and social relations such as
modesty, prostitution, the use of alcohol and drugs, the payment of alms (zakat),
religious instruction and Qur’anic education (Bush 2008; Crouch 2009; Salim
2007).
According to the Indonesian government, in January 2010 there were 82 local
Islamic regulations, excluding those of Aceh (where syari’a has been formally
introduced), 21 of which were in force in ten districts of West Sumatra (Kemen-
kumham 2010). A report issued in the same year by Human Rights Watch stated
that more than 200 Islamic regulations existed across Indonesia. These numbers are,
however, disputed. Buehler (2008: 255) argues that it impossible to provide a
definitive figure since districts do not report all local regulations to the central
government. Similarly, Bush (2008: 179) acknowledges the difficulties of sourcing
accurate figures, but estimates that there were 78 such regulations in 2007. Lindsey
(2008: 206) and Crouch (2009: 59) suggest that there were 160 local Islamic
regulations in 2009, of which 40 had been passed in West Sumatra, the most in any
province.4
It appears that the passing of local regulations that promote Islamic behaviour
has wide support in much of the community. In a poll conducted in 2002, 71 % of

3
In 2010, the central government nominated a list of local Islamic regulations it considered
problematic, but took no action to rescind them. Note that there is some disagreement among
scholarly observers about the legality of these regulations. Hooker (2008) agrees that Islamic
regulations are problematic and unconstitutional since regional autonomy does not transfer
authority over religion to regional government. However, Parsons and Mietzner (2009) suggest
that the national legislative framework provides some room for regional governments to regulate
religion since most Islamic regulations do not refer explicitly to Islamic norms and when they do, it
is in the context of educational goals or customary law, areas over which local governments have
jurisdiction.
4
Buehler (2008: 256) claims that South Sulawesi has the highest number of districts with Islamic
laws in Indonesia.
1 Introduction 3

respondents agreed that the state should require Muslims to abide by Islamic laws
(Mujani and Liddle 2004: 113). At the regional level, according to a poll conducted
in 2007 by the Indonesian Survey Institute (Lembaga Survei Indonesia, LSI), in
West Sumatra’s capital, Padang, two-thirds of those surveyed were in favour of
their implementation (Indrizal 2007). There is some controversy about the impli-
cations of such surveys. Pringle (2010: 181) has argued that the results suggest that
Indonesian Muslims want to be faithful to the tenets of Islam with the assistance of
the state but without state enforcement. Hosen (2007: 96) doubts that the majority
actually supports the introduction of Islamic regulations at all, since Islamic parties
that promoted recognition of the Jakarta Charter5 in 2002 received only 12 % of the
vote in the 1999 national elections.
Nevertheless, the rapid growth in the number of local Islamic laws is an
important development—and one that is unprecedented in two important ways.
First, although the Indonesian state has a long and complex relationship with Islam,
Indonesia is not an Islamic state. Although not strictly secular, it recognises six
religions, of which Islam—the religion of over 88 % of the population—is just one.
Moreover, despite Suharto’s increasing appeals to the Islamic community in the
second half of his 32 year presidency, when his government passed a number of
laws that dealt with Islamic concerns, overall the New Order regime was intensely
suspicious of Islam, seeing it as a threat to its ‘modern’ developmentalist agenda.
Indeed, it is only since the fall of Suharto that increasing community religiosity has
again translated into a serious political presence at the national level (Fealy and
White 2008; Hefner 2011). Second, although there are historical precedents for
local adoption of Islamic practices in the pre-independence period, the post-Suharto
era constitutes the first period in Indonesia’s national history in which regional
governments have had any kind of substantive regulatory power, the mechanism
that has enabled them to give a local flavour to the regulatory mix.
It is, however, a development that—while much written about—is still relatively
little understood. A significant literature has developed around the increasing
influence of Islam in post-Suharto Indonesia and its impact on the political system
(both national and local) and in the public and private sphere (see for example
Hooker 2003; Hosen 2007; Fealy and White 2008; Buehler 2008; Parsons and
Mietzner 2009; Crouch 2009). But there remains few detailed case studies of the
way local governments have harnessed Islamic discourse in their attempts to
maintain power and to promote regional development. Local Islamic regulations are
often perceived to be a form of symbolic opposition to secular governments, and
sometimes also a form of opposition to the West. In some cases, this is true, but it is
necessary to interrogate such claims by examining the political and economic
micro-practices of those who favour these regulations—and representations of those
practices in the public domain—if we are to understand their broader implications.

5
The Jakarta Charter, which proposed that that all Muslims be required to observe Islamic law,
emerged in the constitutional debates that followed independence. See Chap. 2 for further
information.
4 1 Introduction

Such an interrogation confirms that while local Islamic regulations are sometimes
religiously motivated, they are almost always driven by more worldly concerns,
whether it be to attract community support by demonstrating their proponents’
political commitment to local identity, or to channel resources to Islamic groups
with the hope of gaining support at the ballot box, or to generate alternative
resources for regional development. It also suggests, however, that it is necessary to
look beyond the local, and even the national, to truly understand the framing of
those regulations.
This book begins to address this lacuna through a detailed examination of the
relationship between Islam and identity in West Sumatra, tracing the impact of
Islam’s long-standing place in Minangkabau history and identity politics and the
intersection between developments in the province and trends at the national and
international levels. The book demonstrates that while local power-brokers are, in
the main, not primarily motivated by religious concerns but rather by the desire to
gain and maintain authority (apragmatic approach evidenced by the way they
engage with Islamic concepts in public discourse and by their targeting of particular
areas of social and economic life for regulation rather than promoting the com-
prehensive adoption of Syari’a), they nevertheless engage to a greater or lesser
extent with the flow of ideas within the transnational community of Muslim
believers and the institutions that seek to formalise that transnational community. In
order to demonstrate this, the book presents a close analysis of four key focus of
contemporary regulation (legal and social) in the province, namely Islamic finance,
zakat, education and, finally, behaviour and dress.

Islamic Regulation in the Regions: A Review

of the Literature

The design and implementation of local Islamic regulations, and the extent to which
increasing religiosity has been inspired by groups in other countries, has excited the
curiosity of scholars of Indonesian Islam and Indonesian politics. A major focus in
the literature on the influence of contemporary transnational Islam in Indonesia has
been on global Islamic networks from Arabia and South Asia that are said to have
legitimised radicalism (Abuza 2003; Eliraz 2004; Fealy and Borgu 2005; Hasan
2005b, 2006, 2007; Van Bruinessen 2002).6 Van Bruinessen (2002) argues that the
thinking behind these networks of people, money and ideas—particularly inter-
pretations imposed by religious authorities in Saudi Arabia and adopted by Indo-
nesians of Arabian origin, many of them heads of militant groups—has encouraged
Indonesian Muslims to be violent. Similarly, Hasan (2005a) suggests that a decree

6
Note that the terms ‘terrorism’, ‘extremism’, ‘radicalism’, and ‘fundamentalism’ are used by
scholars to describe acts of violence committed by Islamic groups while ‘Islamism’ refers mainly
to the approach adopted by Islamic political parties.
Islamic Regulation in the Regions: A Review of the Literature 5

(fatwa) issued by Middle Eastern scholars was used to justify religious violence in
the province of Maluku.7
Other studies of transnational Islam focus on the historical legacies of global
networks of Islamic scholars, which played an important role in the transformation
of Indonesian Islam in the seventeenth and the eighteenth centuries (Azra 2004).
These networks, which were created by students who had studied in the Middle
East and maintained ties to their schools and teachers, were significant for a number
of reasons. First, they connected Indonesia to Arabia, Islam’s place of origin,
providing a source of information and discussion about Islam for Indonesian stu-
dents. Secondly, they enabled these Arabic-speaking Indonesians to communicate
with their teachers in Arabia and develop a closer understanding of Islamic prac-
tices, since those practices are conceptually couched in the Arabic language.
Finally, the networks were used by Islamic scholars in the Middle East to issue
decrees regarding Indonesian Muslim affairs (Azra 2004; Hasan 2005a). As Azra
(2004) has pointed out, these networks not only had religious significance, but also
economic, social and political implications. They enabled Indonesian Muslims to
participate in the trade of the Muslim world, creating direct relationships between
them and Muslim traders from other regions, as well as with political authorities in
the Middle East. Similarly, networks with Egypt before the end of the nineteenth
century promoted Islamic modernism in Indonesia, motivated by perceptions of the
backwardness of Islamic communities compared to the West (Eliraz 2004). Indeed,
Laffan (2003) argues that the experiences of Indonesians living in Cairo turned
them into both reformists and nationalists. Indonesian nationalism was also influ-
enced by the pan-Islamic movement of the early twentieth century (Reid 2006:
226). One of Indonesia’s two long-standing mass religious organisations,
Muhammadiyah, which follows the modernist-scripturalist interpretation of Islam,
emerged as a result of this movement.8
Some scholars argue that local Islamic regulations are manifestations of con-
temporary forms of cooperation between radical and conservative Islamic organi-
sations and regional governments (e.g. Fealy and Borgu 2005; Hefner 2011; Millie
2009).9 However, little consideration is given by authors concerned with the
explosion of local Islamic regulations to contemporary transnational social-cultural
and financial networks. While it is true that Islamic regulations have in some cases

7
Scholars have also noted that this is not a new trend. According to Fealy and Borgu (2005),
violence has been used for religious purification and expression for more than 200 years, while
Eliraz (2004: 57) has tracked the association of religion and violence from the early eighteenth
century, citing examples such as the Paderi War, the Aceh Wars and the Darul Islam movement.
See Chap. 2 for details of these historical events.
8
According to Muhammadiyah, Islamic jurisprudence should be based on current interpretations,
instead of relying on those of traditional ulama. For example, the organisation argues that the
beginning and the end of Ramadan, the month of fasting, should be based on hisab, the calculation
of the appearance of the moon, rather than ru’yah, the actual sighting of the moon.
9
Some observers, including Pringle (2010), Salim (2007), Bush (2008) and McGibbon (2006),
also link regional Islamic regulations with the regions where the Darul Islam movement occurred.
6 1 Introduction

drawn on ideological developments in the wider Islamic world, socio-cultural

exchanges and the prospects of opportunities for economic development through
foreign (Islamic) investment are significant drivers of the attempts by regional
governments to manage cultural expression and to attract investment by imple-
menting Islamic regulations within their jurisdiction. Moreover, contrary to inter-
pretations that position Islamist groups as the primary actors in the introduction of
Islamic law, most local Islamic regulations, as Pringle (2010) has noted, have been
introduced not by Islamic parties, but by their secular counterparts. Furthermore,
according to Millie (2009), where regional governments do cooperate with radical
Islamic groups, they remain in control over the relationship and pick and choose
between the kinds of Islamic regulations advocated by those groups.
The observations of Pringle and Millie form something of a bridge between
studies that are primarily interested in the influence of transnational Islam and those
concerned primarily with the ‘Islamic factor’ in local politics. A major focus in the
contemporary literature on local Islamic regulations, and the growing Islamisation
of local politics more generally, has been on the motivations behind regional elites’
increasing public performance of religious identity. As Bush (2008) and Millie
(2009) have argued, Islamic regulations help regional governments to establish their
Islamic credentials in response to the general increase in religiosity and the
demands of voters seeking Islamic solutions to social ills. Buehler (2008) argues
that motivations behind the implementation of Islamic regulations include the desire
for revenue-raising measures, while Hefner (2011: 307) asserts that Islamic regu-
lations are necessary in a time of ‘severe economic downturn, communal violence,
and in urban areas, a pervasive fear of extortion, harassment, or violence at the hand
of preman (gangsters). Meanwhile, McGibbon (2006) argues that Islamic regula-
tions enable regional governments to overcome challenges to their legitimacy posed
by activities such as corruption and rent seeking.10
There is some cross-over between these approaches, but studies that regard local
Islamic regulations as a product of local politics in the regions seldom seriously
consider transnational influences and vice versa. Studies that focus on the role of
Islam in local politics seldom seriously consider influences from ‘outside’, while
those that focus on then impact of transnational phenomena such the Wahabi
movement in Indonesia tend to overlook the influence of local Islamic groups. Also,
among scholars concerned with influence ‘from outside’, little attention has been
paid to the role of central government institutions such as the Ministry of Religion
and the government-sponsored Islamic organisation of scholars, the Council of
Indonesian Ulamas (Majelis Ulama Indonesia, MUI), which have been extremely
influential in some areas of regulation.11 In an attempt to fill this gap, this book
combines a consideration of economic and cultural exchanges in the Islamic world,

10
Another strong focus in the scholarship has been the negative impact of local Islamic regu-
lations on women and religious minorities. See, for example, Hooker (2008) and Crouch (2009).
11
Bush (2008) does, however, argue that local Islamic regulations are a response to the failure of
successive central governments to implement Islamic regulations at the national level.
Islamic Regulation in the Regions: A Review of the Literature 7

the application of national Islamic regulations and local factors in a particular region
in its assessment of the development and application of local Islamic regulations in
West Sumatra.

Islamic Regulation as Social Product

This book takes as its starting point the argument that, since transnational Islamic
ideas interact with local politics in predominantly Muslim regions, both local and
transnational factors need to be systematically identified and analysed when con-
sidering the emergence of Islamic regulations in the regions. It may seem obvious
that it impossible to formulate an accurate assessment of the processes through
which such regulations come to be passed or of their impact on politics or society
without considering both factors; however, most discussion of local Islamic regu-
lation within the Indonesian literature on local politics pays little systematic
attention to transnational factors. It is true that the proponents of local Islamic
regulations are local, but local elites are influenced by the global movement of ideas
and by contact with Muslims living in other societies. Conversely, while it is right
to say that transnational Islamic movements influence local Islamic regulations, it is
important not to downplay the role of local elements in seeking to introduce
Islamically-inspired regulations, and to interrogate their motives for doing so.
A second element of the approach adopted in this book that departs from the
bulk of the existing literature is its interrogation of the nature of the Islamic reg-
ulations passed in West Sumatra. In much of the literature, there is an assumption
that syari’a is a legal code that remains frozen in the form it took in the Middle
Ages, and that it has little to do with contemporary law (e.g. Crouch 2009; Parsons
and Mietzner 2009). It is true that Islamic regulations reflect aspects of syari’a, but
they are social constructs that vary in meaning, form and perception over time and
place in Islamic communities (Beckford 2003). Many scholars assume that Islam
and local culture are static, and see local Islamic regulations as necessarily clashing
with local customs. This interpretation is at odds with the findings of historical
studies of the accommodation of Islam in Indonesia, which show that the devel-
opment and implementation of Islamic regulations in the archipelago has been
characterised by flexibility and the construction of new interpretations over time in
dialogue with local customs, which are also flexible and constructed (Abdullah
1966; Hefner 2011).12 Equally importantly, they tend to overlook the extent to
which regional governments discriminate between elements of the Islamic legal
code and reinterpret Islamic legal principles when invoking them, in order to

12
In the West Sumatran context, many studies of Islam begin from an assumption of conflict
between Islamic laws and adat, local customs, in which the Paderi War becomes central. Yet as the
respected Minang scholar Taufik Abdullah (1966), argues, there were many factors in the conflict
between the two elements in the region. Similarly, Christine Dobbin (1983) concludes that the
conflict was caused by change of trading patterns, rather than an Islamic movement in the region.
8 1 Introduction

achieve specific aims. Outside Aceh, no Indonesian jurisdiction has introduced

syari’a as an overarching legal code.13 However, many local governments have
selectively introduced elements of Islamic law. For example, a local regulation on
zakat in South Sulawesi obliges Muslims to pay infaq and sadakah, alms described
as voluntary in the Qur’an (Buehler 2008). In Bengkulu, the use of alcohol in adat
rituals, religious ceremonies and for health reasons is allowed under a local Islamic
regulation on alcohol in the district (Crouch 2009: 67). Including in this approach,
there are many ways to interpret Islam that has a long-established tradition of
disputation and disagreement that started during the time of the Prophet (el-Fadl
2001). The selective implementation or reinterpretation of syari’a through local
Islamic regulations indicates that these regulations are products of complex social
and political negotiations and not simply a matter of religion.
Thirdly, this book recognises that while the particular circumstances that have
led to the explosion in local Islamic regulations are unprecedented, government
engagement with, and implementation of, elements of Islamic jurisprudence is not.
A number of scholars have described the introduction of local Islamic regulations as
an entirely new phenomenon (e.g. Bush 2008; Buehler 2008; Crouch 2009). While
true on one level, such assertions ignore historical examples of regional manifes-
tations of Islamic regulation before independence, or more recently through other
instruments such as Letters of Instruction and through the decrees of local offices of
national institutions such as the Ministry of Religion and MUI.
The book builds on the predominantly political science analyses of earlier
accounts written from the ‘local factors’ perspective by introducing a focus on the
social and economic meanings of Islamic regulation within the province of West
Sumatra, and their production and utilisation within the political sphere. An integral
part of this analysis pertains to the contribution of transnational networks (both
ideological and socio-economic) to the construction of those meanings, not only
within Islamist organisations but also through community expectations. The book
demonstrates that, once established in community expectations, the influence of
these international networks has implications for the attempts by secular power-
holders to maintain their authority and legitimacy at the local level. In order to
avoid the problem of ahistoricism or other forms of decontextualisation, both these
elements (the transnational and the local) are considered in their historical context at
the provincial, national and international levels. In short, this book privileges nei-
ther the local nor the transnational, but rather explores the interactions between the
two in policy-making in the particular locality of West Sumatra.

13
Shari’a was introduced in Aceh by the national government as an effort to sideline the separatist
movement (Salim 2008: 224−228; Arfiansyah 2009).
Transnationalism 9

Transnationalism

A relatively new term in the social sciences, ‘transnationalism’ refers to global net-
works, structures and activities that cross national boundaries (Portes 1999; Vertovec
1999, 2001). It is widely used in studies of migration and diaspora, environments in
which identities and relationships are formed across borders and ethnic boundaries
(Werbner 2002). In this sense, the concept of transnational Islam refers to how Islam
functions across boundaries of states, communities and ethnic groups.
In some ways, the concept of transnational Islam is an extension of umma, a term
associated with the imagined Islamic community (Mandaville 2001; Schmidt 2005;
Hasan 2008). Schmidt (2005), for example, sees umma as the transnational com-
munal experience of being Muslim, giving the example of the shared experience of
discrimination after 11 September 2001, when Islamic terrorists flew two com-
mercial aeroplanes into New York’s World Trade Center. More commonly, how-
ever, studies on transnational Islam describe it in ‘post- and bi-nationalist’ terms
(Haynes 2001; Vertovec 1999). For example, the term transnational Islam can refer
to travelling and migration (Eickelman and Anderson 1990; Mandaville 2001).
Eickelman and Anderson (1990) argue that religiously-motivated forms of travel,
such as pilgrimage, have important economic and political consequences, as the
experience of travel heightens Muslims’ feelings of being part of a transnational
Islamic community as they meet other Muslims around the world. They also note
there are many forms of travel with religious purposes other than pilgrimage, such
as learning, exile and labour migration, that shape the Islamic imagination.
According to Vertovec (2001), all Muslims who move to the West carry with them
a form of transnational Islam, regardless of their primary reasons for travel.
In a slightly different but related vein, Grillo (2004) argues that transnational
Islam describes the practices of Muslims who live in two or more countries. With
the growth of economic development in the West, many Muslims keep a passport
from their country of origin while living and working in a Western country. Within
such contexts, transnational Islam can involve the maintenance of cultural identity
within the diaspora, including the preservation of ties with the homeland (Grillo
2004). As part of this, some Muslims choose to move to the West specifically for
religious purposes—for example, individuals sent by Middle Eastern Islamic
institutions to the West to advise Muslims on how to purify their practices (Werbner
2003). In other cases, members of political Islamic movements may be forced to
abandon their homelands and establish a base in a Western country, while
remaining deeply involved in the politics of the homeland, as is the case with the
Muslim Brotherhood in Europe (Laurence 2006).
According to Bowen (2003), however, transnational Islam is not only about
migration and cultural identity. It also refers to the formation of a global Islamic
public sphere. Bowen argues that Muslims around the world are trying to answer
the question of how to be a Muslim by attending conferences, searching the
internet, travelling and contacting Muslims in other countries. This endeavour has
been greatly helped by advances in communication technology and the creation of
10 1 Introduction

new media, and the growing ease of transportation. This global connection has led
to a never before experienced intensity of interaction among Muslims across bor-
ders. Mandaville (2001) argues that the global Muslim community is in fact con-
stituted via the internet, satellite television, migration and other modes of social,
economic and political connection across borders, a process which embodies the
concept of translocality as a new form of political space.
As noted above, transnational Islam in this more global sense is not simply about
the transfer of ideas. Von der Mehden (1993: 17−37) shows that the transfer of
resources from Middle Eastern countries to Southeast Asia has been occurring since
the 1950s. The wealth generated by the exploitation of oil reserves in the Middle
East has been an important factor in this aspect of Islamic transnationalism. From
the 1970s, oil money has not only dramatically increased the geo-political impor-
tance of the Middle East, it has also funded activism in Islamic communities around
the world. Mosques and Islamic centres have been established and Islamic teachers
have been trained and sent abroad. The rising prosperity of the Middle East has also
funded the development of private and intergovernmental Islamic organisations
such the Organisation of Islamic Cooperation (OIC). Established in 1969, the OIC
is made up of 57 countries, making it the world’s second largest intergovernmental
organisation after the United Nations. Other key global networks include the
Islamic Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organisation (ISESCO), the Islamic
Development Bank (IDB) and the Islamic Solidarity Fund (ISF).
Another important driver of transnational Islamic endeavours was the 1979
Iranian revolution, which has been perceived as a model for symbolic opposition to
secular governments and the West (von der Mehden 1993: 72–78). The collapse of
the pro-Western Pahlavi regime is generally seen as the beginning of a new era in
the implementation of Islamic regulations in Muslim-majority countries. Other
more recent geo-political events developments, such as reaction to the wars in Iraq
and Afghanistan, and the prohibition of certain forms of Islamic dress in France and
elsewhere, have also contributed to the growing perceptions in the Islamic World of
Islamic regulation as a symbolic form of protest against secular governments and
the West.
The book adopts and recognises the strengths of all these definitions in its
conceptualisation of Islamic transnationalism, which is clearly something that is
both ideational and material. In line with Bowen’s (2003), Mandaville’s (2001)
conceptions, it privileges understandings of Islamic transnationalism as a process
through which dynamic interpretations of Islam available in global Islamic sphere
are translated in local political contexts. Statements endorsing the Islamic regula-
tions passed by regional governments in Indonesia clearly reflect discourses that
emerged in the Arab World. At this level, the influence of transnational Islamic
networks as a source of ideas is undeniable. However, importantly, local power-
brokers are not passive recipients of these influences. As the West Sumatra case
clearly demonstrates, the implementation of Islamic regulations is a tool that
enables regional governments to exploit religious identity as a way of gaining and
maintaining power, but it is also a means of developing their networks with the
wider Muslim world.
The Social and Economic Meanings of Islamic Regulation 11

The Social and Economic Meanings of Islamic Regulation

In addition to the need to pay attention to the role of transnational Islamic

networks, the study of Islamic regulations in Indonesia also needs a focus on
particular local contexts, because Islamic regulations are perceived differently
over time and from place to place. It is true that Islamic regulations are based
mainly on Islamic scriptures: the Qur’an and the Hadith, but they have different
social meanings in different Islamic communities (Beckford 2003: 11−29). In
other words, Islamic regulations have become significant in particular social and
economic contexts. The 1997–98 financial crisis was a crucial reference point for
regional governments’ engagement with Islamic regulations, particularly as the
crisis increased support for Islamic financial systems, which had been emerging
since the early 1990s. In this climate, the momentum for the introduction of
Islamic regulations; Islamic banking, Islamic micro-finance and state-sponsored
zakat was given a decisive boost. The freer expression of both people and media
in the post Suharto era has also been a factor influencing support for Islamic
regulations. Emerging regional media have focussed on perceptions that public
immorality, especially displays of sexuality, is a ‘foreign’ or Western import that
leads to other social problems at the regional level. These social pressures have in
turn created support for implementation of Islamic education, the encouragement
of appropriate Islamic behaviour and the wearing of Middle-Eastern style
headscarfs (jilbab) in the regions.
The introduction of these Islamic regulations is seen as a way of applying new
ethical standards in financial systems, providing an instrument for reducing poverty
and addressing what is perceived to be growing immorality in society at large.
Support on such grounds has come not only from Muslims affected by financial
pressures and social problems, but also by regional governments attempting to
improve their financial systems, make a success of their anti-poverty programs and
limit social problems.14 Importantly also, however, as pointed out by scholars like
Bush (2008) and Millie (2009), regional governments see Islamic regulations as
contributing to their efforts to maintain political and ideological legitimacy. In
short, the social and economic factors contributing to the endorsement of Islamic
regulations have enabled regional governments to conflate their political interests
with an increased level of religiosity in Indonesian society as a whole.
This is certainly the case in West Sumatra, where local governments’ engage-
ment in Islamic law-making has contributed to everything from the establishment of
new financial institutions and mechanisms for the collection of zakat to the
imposition of more Syaria-oriented forms of Islamic dress. At one level, these
initiatives have been driven by a desire on the part of local governments to show
their commitment to regionalism by identifying with ‘local culture’ (which is

14
Similar religiously-inspired solutions have been advocated in Bali and in predominantly
Christian provinces, suggesting an overall increase in religiosity in Indonesia.
12 1 Introduction

strongly tied to the Islamic identity of the Minangkabau people).15 On another

level, they have constituted a means of addressing the social and economic chal-
lenges faced by the region, either by moderating behaviour or by presenting the
kind of image and developing the kind of infrastructure required to attract invest-
ment from Islamic sources. While some local politicians are motivated by their
personal commitment to an Islamic society, the regulations that have been passed
are not rooted in a quest to introduce Syari’a to the province; rather, they constitute
an overwhelmingly pragmatic response to contemporary circumstances, both
political and economic, as local politicians seek to maintain their power.

Methodology

This book seeks to build on, but move beyond, religious, political science and legal
approaches, in order to provide a more comprehensive picture of regional gov-
ernments’ engagement in Islamic law-making in West Sumatra. In order to do so,
it draws on methodologies associated with the disciplines of history, linguistics and
sociology, state of the art, within an approach that falls into the broad category of
qualitative political sociology.

Case Study Location

I selected West Sumatra as my research setting because it has a majority Muslim

population and has implemented more local Islamic regulations than any other
region in Indonesia. Administratively, West Sumatra consists of 19 sub-units below
the provincial government, among them 11 districts (kabupaten) and seven cities.
Other than the Mentawai Islands, the population of all districts is predominantly
Muslim. The province has a population around four and half million, the majority of
whom are ethnic Minangkabau (BPS 2011). Minangkabau culture is defined mainly
by matrilineality, in which inherited lands and houses are transferred from mothers
to daughters. Minangkabau men, on the other hand, are well known for their culture
of circular out-migration (merantau), a practice which has engendered a culture open
to the exchange of ideas and dynamic social relations in West Sumatra.
Geographically, West Sumatra is dominated by the Bukit Barisan mountain
range, which defines the boundaries of its cultural heartland. The highlands of West
Sumatra are called darek (literally, the land as opposed to the sea or coast), centred

15
The former has included the passing of regulations that have initiated various kinds of Islamic
activities, from Islamic cultural ceremonies to Islamic holidays. In some instances, these initiatives
have helped build bridges between Muslims from modernist and traditionalist backgrounds by
providing an alternative focus to identification with Muhammadiyah or the traditionalist mass
organisation, Nadhlatul Ulama.
Methodology 13

historically in the village of Pariangan in the district of Tanah Datar, which is

considered the cradle of Minangkabau culture. In the coastal areas, called the pesisir
or more broadly the rantau, meaning the regions outside of the highlands, there is a
long history of intermarriage with traders and other sojourners brought to West
Sumatra by ancient trading systems that linked the regions to India and the Straits of
Malacca, and through which gold and then cultivated coffee were traded between
the fourth and the nineteenth century (Summerfield and Summerfield 1999: 31).
This trade played an important part in the introduction of Sufi Islam into the region
from the sixteenth to the eighteenth century (Dobbin 1983), from which time Islam
has been an important part of Minangkabau identity.
The relationship between Minangkabau culture and various forms of Islam has
been marked by both accommodation and tension. When Islam became established
in the region in the seventeenth century, mosques became a part of the local
political system (nagari). As will be discussed in the following chapter, tensions
arose with the emergence of the Paderi movement in the early nineteenth century,
which, under the influence of Wahhabism, challenged the principles of matriline-
ality and the heterodoxy of Sufi Islam. When Indonesia’s Dutch colonisers lined up
on the side of traditional culture (adat), they paradoxically increased the importance
of Islam as an element of regional identity. From this time, a tension between Islam
and adat remained part of the region’s political and cultural dynamics. This history
makes the province an ideal field site for a study that examines the uses of religious
discourse in the post-Suharto period.

Documentary Analysis

Government regulations and internal documents published by regional governments

were collected in order to document the myriad local Islamic laws in West Sumatra,
information that is not readily available in collated form. Analysis of the extent and
ways in which they were informed by claims about Islam was conducted primarily
on the basis of 3 years of local press coverage (2008–2010), which provided insight
both into the public presentation of Islam as a motivator of policy-making by
politicians and into the way that community figures harness Islam in their responses
to that process.
These textual sources were analysed in order to reveal the religious, social and
political constructions employed when seeking to introduce and validate particular
Islamic regulations, with the aim of understanding the ways in which public figures
use the language of Islam to maintain and construct Minangkabau identity, and
equally the ways in which Minangkabau identity is mobilised in order to justify the
use of Islam as an argument for the introduction of new forms of social control.
The analysis was carried out using techniques associated with critical discourse
analysis, which seeks to produce insights into the way discourse reproduces or
14 1 Introduction

resists social and political inequality, power abuse and domination.16 Analysis of
emphasis, the use of metaphors and the choice of particular words all reveal offi-
cials’ attempts to position the government and other social actors—local, national
and transnational—in the practices of local Islamic regulation in West Sumatra and
resistance to that process. Techniques of over-wording and the identification of
experiential, expressive and relational values were used to identify categories,
themes, ideas, views and roles. Over-wording refers to ‘an unusually high degree of
wording, often involving words which are near synonyms’, which indicates a focus
of ideological struggle (Fairclough 1989: 115). An experiential value is ‘a trace of
and cue to the way in which the text producer’s experience of the natural or social
world is represented’; an expressive value is ‘a trace and a cue to the producer’s
evaluation of the bit of the reality it relates to’; a relational value is ‘a trace of and a
cue to the social relationships which are enacted via the text in the discourse’
(Fairclough 1989: 112). Experiential and expressive values provide insight into the
understanding and opinion of the speaker while relational values can be used to
identify reciprocal social relationships. Together, these elements made it possible
to piece together the puzzle of how claims pertaining to Islam have been used to
justify policy development in the four thematic areas examined.

Interviews and Observer-Participation

The systematic examination of policy documents and regulations and structured

textual analysis of newspaper articles was complemented by insights from obser-
vation and semi-structured interviews during two discrete periods of fieldwork. My
own subjectivity was an important element in the fieldwork process. Although I live
and work in Manado, I am of West Sumatran origin. I was born in the village of
Lintau Buo in the district of Tanah Datar, and I attended secondary school in
Padang Panjang, around 80 km from my village, before moving to Jakarta for my
tertiary education at the Syarif Hidayatullah State Islamic University. As a result of
my long periods of residency outside my homeland, my position as a researcher
approaches observer participation rather than participant observation. Nevertheless,
my cultural roots and on-going connections with the region have clearly influenced
the research process.
Interviews were conducted mainly in Padang, the capital city of the province, but
also in some smaller centres, from September to December 2008 and from
November to December 2010. A number of secondary interviews were also con-
ducted in Jakarta in November 2010. In West Sumatra, respondents were drawn
from key stakeholder groups, such as state officials, members of the local parlia-
ments, formal and informal Islamic leaders and ordinary Muslims. Forty-six people

16
For an overview of critical discourse analysis see Fairclough (1995) and Blommaert and
Bulcaen (2000).
Methodology 15

identified through purposive sampling techniques were interviewed. Interviews

with regional government officials from municipal and district executive govern-
ments, and politicians from diverse political parties, focused on their support for
and contribution to the formulation and implementation of local Islamic regulations.
Interviews with informal Muslim leaders focused on their role as advocates for
Islamic regulations and/or their responses to those regulations. Interviews with
members of the community, which focused on the impact of local Islamic regu-
lations, provided supplementary data for the study.
These interviews were supplemented by my observations during fieldwork of the
impact of local Islamic regulations in West Sumatra and my reflections on my
experiences as an observer-participant in conferences, seminars, visits to official
institutions, including the local parliament, and attendance at ceremonies. I partici-
pated as a speaker at an international seminar on Local, Regional and Global Edu-
cation in West Sumatra at the Teacher Training College (Sekolah Tinggi Pendidikan
Guru Republik Indonesia, STPGRI) in Padang in September 2008, and also acted as a
teacher in a Pesantren Ramadan program in Padang in the same month. I attended a
seminar on Global Islamic Education organised by the State Institute for Islamic
Studies (Institut Agama Islam Negeri, IAIN) in Padang in November 2010 and a
Minangkabau Culture Congress (Kongres Kebudayaan Minangkabau, KKM) in the
same city in December 2010. (This congress was organised by Gebu Minang, the
Minangkabau migrant organisation centred in Jakarta.) Finally, I engaged in partic-
ipant observation in the Sydney Minangkabau organisation, Minang Saiyo, from
2008 to 2011, the period during which I was student at the University of Sydney.

Book Outline

Following this chapter’s discussion of transnational and local factors influencing the
introduction of Islamic regulations in West Sumatra, Chap. 2 contextualises these
recent developments in a brief historical overview of the relationship between Islam
and local identity in the province. The analysis then moves to a series of detailed
case studies of recent examples of Islamic regulatory practice. In Chaps. 3–6 the
discussion begins with a brief account of the religious and social meanings of these
particular examples of Islamic regulations, describing their evolution in the wider
Islamic world and at the national level. The later sections of each of these chapters
then focus in more detail on how these regulations have been constructed locally.
Each chapter ends with a close analysis of regulations and policies that have been
issued in particular local government jurisdictions since the policy of decentrali-
sation was introduced in 1999.
Chapter 3, the first of these chapters, examines regional governments’ engagement
in the promotion of Islamic finance. It describes in detail the emergence of a new
understanding of the utility of Islamic financial systems on the part of regional
governments, which, under the pressures of decentralisation, have become much
more involved in revenue generation and management than in the past. The chapter
16 1 Introduction

argues that the primary aim of regional governments’ engagement in Islamic banking
is strongly influenced by the expectation that it will help facilitate, and allow the
provincial government to control, development-related investment and other finan-
cial flows from Islamic countries. By contrast, other Islamic financial practices,
including Islamic micro-finance, have been developed in response to community
pressure on local elites, serving also as a mechanism through which to build networks
with Islamic groups. Chapter 4 then examines regional governments’ attempts to
stimulate and regulate the payment of zakat. It argues that while zakat institutions are
very much local, regional governments’ policies on zakat are largely a response to the
impact of the 1997 Asian Financial Crisis and ongoing concerns about social security.
Chapter 5 focuses on Islamic education for public school students. It demonstrates the
ways in which regional governments have positioned Islamic education as the answer
to community concerns about lapses in public morality, but it also shows that local
administrations have been divided over the kinds of education that best meet this
need. In some cases, officials have turned to long-standing Sufi traditions. In other
cases, however, they have developed new modes of education that draw on Middle
Eastern models. Finally, Chap. 6 examines local governments’ attempts to regulate
behaviour and dress. This chapter argues that the very Middle Eastern forms of
behaviour and dress promoted at the local level provide regional governments with a
relatively easy way of demonstrating to the public that they are acting to address the
public’s concerns while obviating the need to develop structural solutions.
A theme running through these chapters is the question of how extensively
attempts to introduce Islamic regulations have been connected in public discourse to
Minangkabau identity. Chapter 3 shows that the concept of Islamic financial systems
is strongly associated in public discourse with Minangkabau identity, even though
Islamic financial institutions are relatively new in the region and, indeed, in Indonesia
as a whole. Similarly, Chap. 6 demonstrates that even though attempts to regulate
behaviour and dress are strongly influenced by contemporary Middle Eastern prac-
tice, in public discourse, these initiatives are justified by references to Minangkabau
cultural identity. In the case of education, Chap. 5 demonstrates that the strong
discursive links drawn with the regional culture of West Sumatra are to some extent
based on historical fact, but that the discourse also retrospectively credits Islamic
education for aspects of Minangkabau identity that were actually developed through
the colonial education system. Notably, Chap. 4 demonstrates that, in contrast to these
domains of regulation, public statements about regional governments’ attempts to
generate and control the payment of zakat make no direct appeals to regional identity.
The book concludes by revisiting the findings of the earlier chapters. It argues that
the interaction of local, national and transnational Islam in the regulation of social
and economic practice is not a uniform phenomenon. In some areas of practice, local
factors have been stronger than the influence of global Islamic networks, while in
others, models offered by the Middle East seem to have been as influential, if not
more so, than local factors. Also, significant differences can be found in the Islamic
regulations that have emerged in different local government areas within the prov-
ince. In all cases, political motivations have been an important driver of the pro-
cesses of negotiation around different modes of Islamic regulation. Ultimately, the
Book Outline 17

religio-social and economic aspects of regional governments’ engagement with

these regulations have been subordinated to their political ends. However, these
political ends have been reached by local political actors using a variety of religious
concepts and practices available to them in the global Islamic sphere.

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Chapter 2
Islam, Politics and Identity

Abstract The chapter, by examining the history of Islam, shows interplay between
localism and transnationalism in the local dynamics, which is largely ignored in
analyses of the contemporary politics of Islam. Yet the Islamic regulations in
contemporary West Sumatra would not be possible without the interaction of local
and transnational actors and ideas. The regional governments’ engagement with
Islam have an historical perspective. The institutionalising the tenets of Islam dated
back to the royal courts of the pre-colonial Islamic kingdoms and the colonial
government’s Office for Native Affairs even though it has only become possible to
pass regional laws (peraturan daerah, perda) in the post-Suharto era. This chapter
argues that the relationship between a global Islam and a local identity was
simultaneously accommodating and contested, as indeed it is today. In doing so, the
chapter examines a brief historical overview of Islam in West Sumatra from the
advent of Islam in the Malay world to its role in the post-Suharto era. The chapter
seeks to contextualise the key phases in West Sumatra’s history in the broader
history of the archipelago and the Malay world, and to show how key events in
West Sumatra and at the national level set the parameters for later debates about
Islam and identity in the region.

Keywords Global Islam
Local politics
Identity

One of the defining debates in the literature on Islam and local politics in Indonesia
over the last decade has been over whether the inspiration for Islamic regulations
passed at the local level is transnational and global or whether it is fundamentally
local. One camp focuses on the global rise of Wahhabism and its impact on regional
Islamic awareness, arguing that increasing piety has driven this phenomenon (see,
for example, Hasan 2007). For the other camp, which is concerned primarily with
the dynamics of local politics, the key question concerns the extent to which local
elites have used Islamic regulations to position themselves to gain access to and
remain in power (see, for example, Buehler 2008). Related to this second approach

This chapter of this book has been published in the Journal of Indonesian Islam, the State
Islamic University (UIN) Sunan Ampel Surabaya entitled ‘Islam, Politics and Identity in West
Sumatra’.

© Springer International Publishing Switzerland 2015 21

D.P. Salim, The Transnational and the Local in the Politics of Islam,
DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-15413-8_2
22 2 Islam, Politics and Identity

is the broader debate on whether decentralisation would undermine national

cohesion and, if so, what role religion would play in that process. For van Klinken
(2001, 2002), New Order repression, combined with religious and regional ten-
sions, was a key driver in the local politics of the post-Suharto era, leading, for
example, to serious violence in Maluku in the period between 1999 and 2002.
Aspinall and Fealy (2003), too, emphasise the role of communal and ethnic
dynamics in the quest for local political power and economic resources, which has
led putera daerah (lit. sons of the region) to seek control over local government and
local economic resources.
The interplay between these two impulses, towards globalised piety on the one
hand and local dynamics on the other, is largely ignored in analyses of the con-
temporary politics of Islam, as are their historical roots. Yet the Islamic resurgence
would not be possible without the interaction of local and transnational actors and
ideas. Moreover, an understanding of the contemporary phenomenon of regional
governments’ engagement with Islam requires historically informed research.
Without an historical perspective, it appears that the current trend towards Islamic
regulation has no precedent in Indonesia’s regions. Yet while it is true that it has
only become possible to pass regional laws (peraturan daerah, perda) in the post-
Suharto era, regional governments have a long history of institutionalising the
tenets of Islam, dating back to the royal courts of the pre-colonial Islamic kingdoms
and the colonial government’s Office for Native Affairs.
This chapter provides a brief historical overview of Islam in West Sumatra from
the advent of Islam in the Malay world to its role in the post-Suharto era. In doing
so, it seeks to contextualise the key phases in West Sumatra’s history in the broader
history of the archipelago and the Malay world, and to show how key events in
West Sumatra and at the national level set the parameters for later debates about
Islam and identity in the region. The chapter argues that now, as in the past, the
relationship between Islam, a global religion, and Minangkabau culture was
simultaneously accommodating and contested, as indeed it is today.

West Sumatra, the Malay World and the Coming of Islam

The term ‘Minangkabau’ initially referred specifically to people who originated

from the mountainous inland region of what is now the province of West Sumatra.
According to the Minangkabau historical chronicle, the tambo, the first Mina-
ngkabau settlement was in Pariangan, Padang Panjang (Batuah and Madjoindo
1956: 19, 20). The tambo describes this settlement as the first nagari, a term that
means both village and state. Without providing details of historical events, the
tambo explains that a king from the southern part of West Sumatra came to Pari-
angan, married the sister of a local leader, and then was himself appointed as the
new leader (Manan 1999: 48). The king, whose name was Sang Sapurba, then
installed pangulu, or head officers, and built a council hall from which to govern the
people.
West Sumatra, the Malay World and the Coming of Islam 23

The Minangkabau created new settlements, called rantau (Batuah and

Madjoindo 1956), which became a source of revenue for the royal family (Manan
1999: 49). This is how the term ‘rantau’ came to mean ‘outside the Minangkabau
heartland’. There are two terms that describe the areas and communities of the inner
highlands of Minangkabau, namely darek (darat in Indonesian), which describes
the Minangkabau heartland geographically, and alam, which describes it philo-
sophically. Although the meaning of rantau is now much broader, in the past, it
referred to the coastal areas of Sumatra and the areas downstream and to the east of
the highlands (Kato 1980: 731). As a verb, merantau means to leave one’s nagari or
village, a concept traditionally applying primarily to the practices of young men
who left the homeland in search of wealth, knowledge and skills before returning to
establish a family (Manan 1999: 46). Women, meanwhile, remained in the heart-
land, living in their family homes and tending to crops and engaging in trading and
other kinds of economic activities.
The Minangkabau people are a matrilineal society in which ancestral property
such as land and houses is passed down from mothers to daughters. Kinship is also
based around the female line. Each elite woman owns a ‘big house’ (rumah gadang)
and rice lands or other ancestral property. In the past, these women controlled land,
labour and subordinate kin and held power not only within households and rice land
but throughout the village (Blackwood 2001: 132).1 In terms of belief, a mixture of
animism and mysticism dominated this community before a South Indian version of
Hindu-Buddhism was brought to the region by Indian merchants in the third and
fourth centuries (Manan 1999: 50). The temple of Muara Takus in Jambi is evidence
of the extent to which ancestor worship became linked to the adoption of Hinduism
in the region in this period.
At this time, Sumatra was very much part of the Malay world (alam Melayu).
That world was based around the powerful and prosperous Hindu-Buddhist king-
doms of Srivijaya, based in Bukit Seguntang in Palembang, and Melayu, which was
associated with the Batang Hari River in Jambi in the seventh century (Andaya 2001:
31). In the eleventh century, after the collapse of Srivijaya, and in a period when
international trade between India and China through the Straits of Malacca came to
be dominated by the Cholas of India, the term Melayu referred to interior areas in
Jambi (Andaya 2001: 31). In the fourteenth century, Melayu appeared in Javanese
literature, where it referred to an area that extended to other territories such as
Lampung, Pattani in modern Thailand, Kelantan in Malaysia and the Minangkabau
region of West Sumatra (Reid 2001). In that same century, Malacca, a region made
prosperous by its position at the centre of key trading routes, emerged as the new
centre of the Malay world. With the establishment of the kingdom of Malacca, the
name Melayu and its defining characteristics such as dress, language and religion
became associated with Malacca Malays (Andaya 2001: 33). Thus, when Malacca
became a powerful Muslim state in the same century, Islam came to be identified

1
For a discussion of the farming practices of women in contemporary West Sumatra, see
Blackwood (2008).
24 2 Islam, Politics and Identity

with Malay culture. It was this connection that began the association of Islam with
the Malay people (Utrecht 1984: 31). And while a Hindu-Buddhist Minangkabau
kingdom was established in 1347 by Adityawarman, a prince from the post-Srivijaya
kingdom of Dharmasyraya who was raised in the Javanese kingdom of Majapahit
(Colombijn 2006: 55), those living in the coastal areas of West Sumatra identified
themselves as Malays rather than Minangkabau, as a result of the influence of the
Malaccan Malays (Drakard 1990: 11).
After the Portuguese conquered Malacca in 1511, a series of powerful sultanates
appeared in the Malay world, including Aceh, which, by the seventeenth century
was among the wealthiest and most powerful states in the region. Although Islam
began to take root in the Malay world in the thirteenth century, along with the
adaptation to local conditions of Islamic thought and concepts relating to politics,
jurisprudence, and Sufi ideas and practices (Azra 2002: 103). In this period, Islam
became important for economic and political reasons, enabling Malay Muslim
kingdoms to participate intensively in Indian Ocean trade and establish contact with
Muslim traders and political authorities in the Middle East (Azra 2004: 9). Aceh
itself established strong connections with the Ottoman Empire in Turkey (Reid
2005: 69–93), a connection that influenced the development of Islam in the Malay
world.
Scholars have proposed a number of theories in their attempts to explain the
conversion of the Malay world to Islam. Al-Attas (1969) argues that Islam was
introduced directly by Arabs to Malay Sumatra in the seventh century, citing a
Chinese report of the existence of an Arab settlement in East Sumatra in 674, the
earliest known record of probable Muslim settlement in Malay Sumatra. Others
argue that Islam came to the Malay world from India in the twelfth century, citing
the existence of international maritime trade routes, the commonality of schools of
jurisprudence and the similarity of gravestones and literary styles and themes
between India and the Malay world as evidence for this theory (Meuleman 2005:
24). Others say that Islam came from India to Sumatra at the end of the thirteenth
century through the kingdoms of Pasai and Perlak (Alatas 1985: 168; Andaya 2001:
36). What is clear is that in the fourteenth century, the laws of Malacca (Undang-
undang Melaka) used the term ‘Kanun’ (Arabic qanun) meaning administrative
law, as used in the Ottoman Empire, and the Pasai chronicle of Aceh also frequently
invokes both the terms ‘adat’ (from the Arabic ada), meaning customs, and ‘Kanun’
(Milner 1981: 47).
Importantly also, merchant Arabs from the Hadramaut (now Yemen and Oman),
who had visited and settled in Malay Sumatra before the seventeenth century,
settled in the Straits of Malacca and what is now South Sumatra, from the late
seventeenth century (Roff 1967: 81). Many reformist Muslims in the Malay world,
such as Nuruddin Al-Raniri and Sayyid Abd Al-Samad Palimbani, were of
Hadramauti descent (Azra 2002: 139). This contact continued into the early
twentieth century, when Ahmad Surkati taught Islam at various schools in Batavia
(Jakarta). By the early twentieth century, there were more than twenty thousand
Hadramauti Arabs in the archipelago (Reid 2004: 230).
West Sumatra, the Malay World and the Coming of Islam 25

The Arrival of Sufism

Sufism, which came to Malay Sumatra via the trading routes between various parts
of Asia and the Middle East, was an important element in the introduction of Islam
to the Malay world. Sufi Islam is described as ‘the apprehension of divine realities’
(Nicholson 1914: 1). According to Trimingham, Sufi Islam emphasises the belief
that it is possible to have direct experience of God or direct communication with
God under the guidance of charismatic leaders (Trimingham 1998: 1). The mystical
expression of the Islamic faith has both an intellectual dimension, consisting of Sufi
teaching, and an organisational dimension called tariqa (tarekat in Indonesian), or
brotherhood (Voll 1998: vii).2
Sufi traders used Islam as a means of establishing cooperation with local chiefs
and the merchant class (Federspiel 1970). Because of the dominance of trade in the
region, the centres of religious power were at the same time centres of economic
power.3 As Utrecht (1984: 33) points out, Islam took hold fastest among the trader
class. Wealthy merchants had the means to fund the education of their children and
to fulfil the religious obligation to undertake the pilgrimage to Mecca, which
consequently brought them into closer contact with Islam (Federspiel 1970: 7).
Sufism was, however, subsequently transmitted through other channels, as Sufi
teachers married the daughters of Malay Indonesian nobility, which mean that their
children had royal blood and therefore were well-placed to spread Islam (Johns
1961: 17).
The nature of Sufism played an important role in the acceptance of Islam in
Malay Sumatra. Johns (1961: 15) argues that the Sufis who preached Islam in the
region ‘were prepared to preserve continuity with the past and to use the terms and
elements of pre-Islamic culture in an Islamic context’. As Sufi Islam did not
challenge local animist beliefs, it could penetrate the Malay world in a peaceful way
(Snouck Hurgronje 1906). At the same time, however, some scholars argue that
Sufi Islam created a new identity in the Malay world (Utrecht 1984; Woodward
1989), serving as ‘a liberation creed’ against the feudalism of the Hindu society and
caste system imported from India and institutionalised under the Hindu kingdoms
(Utrecht 1984: 30). Islam also provided local rulers with a consensual basis upon
which to engage with Muslim merchants in coastal towns (Kahane 1980: 130).
According to Woodward (1989), the majority of the population, notably the lower
classes in urban centres, were eager to liberate themselves from the caste system,
quickly embracing the idea of equality before God and Sufism’s emphasis on merit
instead of inherited status. However, as other scholars have pointed out, the ruling

2
Howell (2001: note 2) argues that the term Sufi has many different meanings. It can be asso-
ciated with devotional practices and religious concepts that are quite separate from Sufism’s
common association with mysticism.
3
Kahane (1980), among others, has pointed out that economic interests, not purely religious
motives, enhanced the spread of Islam into the Malay archipelago.
26 2 Islam, Politics and Identity

classes did not only convert to Islam themselves, but also encouraged the general
populace to do so as well (Johns 1961).
Sufi Muslim merchants from Gujarat and Persia began visiting West Sumatra in
the thirteenth century, establishing trade links through the gold industry. Gold
traders from both the west and east coasts of Sumatra carried Sufi Islam with them
to the Minangkabau highlands and the centres of the gold trade became the first to
be converted to Islam (Dobbin 1983: 119). Three centuries later, one of the
Minangkabau kings converted to Islam (Hadler 2008a: 977). Conversion took place
on a large scale in the seventeenth century, when a Sufi centre was established in
Ulakan in the district of present-day Padang Pariaman (Hadler 2008a: 977). Syaikh
Burhanuddin, known as the Tuanku (religious leader) of Ulakan, was the first Sufi
teacher of the tarekat organisation, Syattariyah, in Ulakan (Abdullah 1966: 8).4

The Coming of Syaria-Oriented Islam

The hold of Sufism in West Sumatra was not to go unchallenged. Changes in the
wider Islamic world and their continuing impact on Malay Muslims gradually
affected the form of Islam in the region. The modern reform movement only
became influential in the nineteenth century, but Syaria-oriented Islam began
infiltrating Sumatra as early as the seventeenth century. The first Syaria-oriented
Muslim preacher in Malay Sumatra was Nuruddin al-Raniri, from Randir in
Gujarat, who had studied Islam in Mecca before travelling to Aceh in 1637 (Azra
2004). Raniri favoured the Syaria-oriented Islam that he had learned in the Middle
East over the Sufi mysticism that had its roots in India, and he set about spreading
the teachings of a more Syari’a-oriented Islam (Azra 2004: 63).
As a result of the efforts of Raniri and others, by the nineteenth century, Islamic
practices associated with the Middle East were more visible in Malay Sumatra than
in Java. Islam had a significant role in community affairs and in the private lives of
individuals in Sumatra, whereas in Java most were purely nominal Muslims
(Snouck Hurgronje 1906). As the Syaikh of Islam, the highest position below the
Sultan of Aceh, al-Raniri issued a fatwa condemning the Sufi doctrine of wujudiyah
as heretical. In response, the seventeenth century Sultan of Aceh, Iskandar Thani,
ordered the killing of all Sufi adherents who refused to recant their belief in the
doctrine (Azra 2004: 63–64).5 In the late eighteenth century, the Wahhabist
movement, which declared that belief in God was not enough to make one a
Muslim and that one must worship God purely and exclusively because worship of

4
There is some disagreement on this. According al-Attas (1969), the Acehnese Syaikh Abdullah
Arif, Sheikh Burhanuddin’s teacher, introduced Islam into Padang Pariaman in West Sumatra in
the seventeenth century.
5
Wujudiyah is the cyclic ontology of divine self-manifestations. For example, the universe is
seen as ‘a series of neo-platonic emanations’ and each of these emanations is considered as an
aspect of God himself (Azra 2004: 53).
West Sumatra, the Malay World and the Coming of Islam 27

any being other than God is idolatry (shirk) (Commins 2009: x), had reached the
Malay world. Wahhabism not only obliged all Muslims to observe the practice of
daily prayers and fasting, but also attacked popular religious practices that posi-
tioned holy men as intercessors with God (Trimingham 1998: 105).
According to van Dijck (1984: 8), the introduction of Syaria-oriented Islam into
the Malay world marked the beginning of a new chapter in the relationship between
Islam and the state, in which Islam became a considerable source of social tension,
ranging from dissatisfaction with indigenous symbols, rebellion against local rulers,
to all-out war. The most important of these conflicts in West Sumatra was the Paderi
war, which took place between 1803 and 1837. It was initiated by West Sumatran
pilgrims returning from Mecca, who sought to implement the principles of Wah-
habism they had encountered in Saudi Arabia over the way Islam was practised
their homeland. The term itself was derived from Pedir or Pidie, the part of Aceh
where Malays set out on and returned from the pilgrimage (van Dijck 1984: 10).
The Paderi war exploited changing economic and social relations among the
Minangkabau (Dobbin 1974, 1977, 1983). The collapse of the existing cash
economy, which had been based on gold mining, led to the emergence of a new
system based on the cultivation of coffee, which transformed economic and political
relationships between and within villages. The wealthy were thrown into turmoil by
the collapse of the gold industry at precisely the same time that it became possible
for those at the bottom of the economic ladder to cultivate coffee in the hills on
common village lands without the need for large investments. This gave rise to a
group of ‘new rich’ farmers eager to challenge the economic order (van Dijck 1984:
9). Before the Paderi war, an emerging leader of this group, Tuanku Nan Tuo, had
taken steps to secure trading routes by promoting Islamic regulations and con-
fronting those responsible for robberies and other forms of misconduct (van Dijck
1984: 10). According to Dobbin (1983: 127–128), the introduction of Islamic
regulations also made it possible for leaders such as Tuanku Nan Tuo to claim the
land necessary for coffee cultivation from traditional landholders, thus further
cementing the new economic order.
The Paderi movement emerged in these newly rich coffee villages. It sought to
challenge the entrenched positions of wealthy traditional leaders, aiming to replace
what its followers perceived to be a corrupt traditional order with the laws of Islam
(van Dijck 1984: 10). The movement’s most prominent leader was Peto Syarif, who
became better known as Tuanku Imam Bonjol. Establishing a fortress in Bonjol, the
Paderi movement flourished for 35 years, before the Dutch, acting in support of the
traditional order, finally took full control of the Minangkabau heartlands in 1837.
The Paderi leaders were subsequently captured and exiled (Dobbin 1983: 193–206),
bringing the Paderi movement to an end. However, some Paderi leaders joined the
tarekat Naqsabandiyah, which later attacked the Sufi tarekat, Syatariyah (Abdullah
1972: 203).
By attacking the authority of traditional leaders, the Paderi movement also
attacked an interpretation of Islam, since customary law (adat) and Islam had
influenced one another for centuries, and both had come to incorporate elements of
the other (van Dijck 1984: 11). West Sumatra’s adat leaders were also Muslims,
28 2 Islam, Politics and Identity

albeit superficial and heterodox in the eyes of the Paderi movement. Indeed, the
complexities of the Paderi war point to the fact that adat and Islam may be inter-
preted differently, and each may be used for political or economic gain (Biezeveld
2007).

The Regulation of Islam Under the Dutch

The Dutch, who had an interest in gaining control over the coffee trade, sided with
traditional adat leaders against the Paderi movement (Biezeveld 2007: 208). They
continued to favour the adat leaders, promising them taxation concessions in the
1833 Long Declaration (Plakat Panjang), which abolished a cultivation system in
favour of a direct tax (Kahin 1999: 25). This enabled the Paderi movement to
identify adat leaders as friends of the enemy. Indeed, the term ‘Adat Basandi
Syarak’ (local customs are based on Syari’a), among the Minangkabau of West
Sumatra, was coined by Tuanku Imam Bonjol during the Paderi war specifically in
response to the Dutch positioning of adat as a superior source of authority over
Islam (Hadler 2008a: 986).6
Similar policy decisions subsequently led to the Aceh war, which took place
between 1873 and 1912. When the Dutch chose to support the traditional Acehnese
figures of authority (uleebalang) over Muslim administrators, Islamic leaders such
as Tengku Cik Di Tiro and Muhammad Saman declared a holy war against the
colonial ruler.7 After an extended period of fighting, Islamic leaders including
Tuanku Mahmud, Tuanku Raja Kumala and Teuku Polem initiated a peace set-
tlement with the Dutch in 1909 (Alfian 2006: 114). It was during the Aceh war that
the Dutch established an Office of Native Affairs charged with studying Islam and
local culture to provide advice to the Indies government. The office was assisted by
the Islamic scholar, Ch. Snouck Hurgronje, who had been Consul in Jeddah before
becoming Advisor on Native Affairs to the Netherlands Indies government. Snouck
Hurgronje went on to play important role for the Dutch in improving military tactics
and winning the war in Aceh (Benda 1958: 340).8

6
‘Adat basandi Syarak, Syarak basandi Adat’was widely accepted as a form of compromise
between Islamic and adat leaders by 1837 (Hadler 2008b: 29).
7
Islam was constructed as the source of a common identity in the fight against the Dutch, in
which the Dutch were described as infidels and even Jews (Aspinall 2009: 25).
8
The Dutch engaged in a number of other attempts to control Islam around this time. Among
other measures, the colonial authorities forced pilgrims to obtain a passport in order to travel to
Mecca between 1825 and 1852. In order to do so, each pilgrim was required to obtain a certificate
from his district head vouching for his financial capacity to make the return journey and provide
for his dependents at home. Arab migrants were also required to live in special cantonments in the
main towns and to apply for a pass every time they wished to leave their place of residence (Reid
2005: 231).
The Regulation of Islam Under the Dutch 29

These wars were just two of many instances in which the Dutch prioritised adat
over Islam in the nineteenth century. In 1847, the Dutch appointed adat leaders in
West Sumatra as colonial agents charged with collecting the coffee harvest through
forced cultivation, in order to improve the collection and delivery of this crop. At
that time, the new position of ‘traditional leader responsible for forced labour’
(panghulu suku rodi) was created to implement the government’s coffee policies in
many nagari, with the salaries attached to the positions being a percentage of the
coffee production of their areas (Kahin 1999: 26). When the Dutch introduced the
Ethical Policy at the end of the nineteenth century, local Muslims interpreted it as
not only being linked to the Dutch support for adat, but also as part of the effort to
undermine Islam and strengthen the position of Christian missionaries (Benda
1958: 339). In 1914, the Nagari Ordinance was passed with the aim of re-estab-
lishing West Sumatra’s autonomous village communities and recognising the right
of adat leaders to hold authority in the nagari (Kahin 1999: 26). The Dutch also
attempted to codify adat in 1929, using information gathered from native customary
law tribunals, the opinions of chiefs and elders who were consulted by van Vol-
lenhoven and other adat scholars (Jaspan 1965: 252). The key issues at stake were
those of marriage, divorce, and inheritance, issues over which there was a real
competition between adat and Islamic law.
In the early twentieth century, attacks on traditionalist Islam in West Sumatra
were coming from the proponents of both secular modernity and modernist Islam.
In 1906, Datuk Sutan Maharaja established a movement that promoted education
for women on the basis of their status in Minangkabau culture. In order to improve
their position, he established 12 schools for women and a feminist newspaper,
Sunting Melayu (Malay Ornament), which was edited by his daughter, Ratna Djuita
and later by Rohana Kudus, the ‘Kartini of West Sumatra’ (Abdullah 1971: 12). In
1910, he went on to establish the Minangkabau Union (Minangkabausche Bond) to
unite all Minangkabau people living in the darek and the rantau including Aceh
and Negeri Sembilan. At the same time, Muslim reformists led by those who had
been students of Syaikh Achmad Khatib in Mecca, such as Djamil Djambek in
Bukittinggi, Haji Abdullah Ahmad in Padang, Haji Rasul in Padang Panjang, and
Taib Umar in Batu Sangkar, among others, not only challenged the adat-oriented
interpretation of progress favoured by Datuk Sutan Maharaja, but also attacked the
heterodoxy of the Sufi orders and the Minangkabau matrilineal inheritance system,
arguing that the former two ideas were heretical and the latter was an infringement
of Syaria (Abdullah 1985: 141). Reformist Muslim ideas had spread in Indonesia
after the opening of Suez Canal in the nineteenth century, which saw an increasing
number of pilgrims travelling from the archipelago to Mecca and Egypt. As Laffan
(2003) has demonstrated, these connections were crucial to the Indonesian
nationalist movement because they provided an alternative model to Europe for
modernising intellectuals (see also Azra 2004).
Influenced by the Young Turks movement in the Ottoman Empire, a group of
reformist Minangkabau Muslims called the Kaum Muda (Group of the Young), set
themselves up in opposition to the Kaum Tua (Group of the Elders), a term they
used to refer to the Sufi orders (Abdullah 1971: 16). As in other parts of the Malay
30 2 Islam, Politics and Identity

world, the reformists attacked Sufi heterodoxy, urging a return to the Qur’an and
the Hadith. They also denounced Islamic practices which they saw as heterodox, for
example the way in which the Prophet’s birthday was celebrated. In the case of the
matrilineal system, however, the Kaum Muda compromised by suggesting that
inheritance be divided into two categories, ‘high inheritance’ (pusaka tinggi) or
‘ancestral inheritance’ (harto pusako) and ‘low inheritance’ (pusaka rendah) or
‘individual inheritance’ (harta pencaharian). The first category would continue to
be distributed according to the matrilineal line, while the second category was to be
transferred in accordance with Islamic inheritance law (Abdullah 1985: 143).9 The
division in the inheritance system shows how firmly Islam had become part of
Minangkabau identity.

Nationalism and Islam

In the early twentieth century, an anti-Dutch rebellion broke out in Minangkabau

after the 1908 introduction of direct taxation by the Dutch, a policy that disregarded
the promises made to adat leaders in the Long Declaration. Uprisings ensued in
many parts of West Sumatra, led by both Islamic and adat leaders. Cooperation
between the Islamic and adat leaders marked the genesis of nationalism in the
struggle against the Dutch in West Sumatra (Kahin 1999: 27). The same year saw
the establishment of Budi Utomo in Java, an event now commemorated as marking
the beginnings of the Indonesian nationalist movement.10 Among the first organi-
sations to campaign for an improvement in the social and economic conditions of
indigenous people in the Indies was the Islamic League (Sarekat Islam). Established
in 1912,11 Sarekat Islam was initially concerned with protecting indigenous batik
merchants against ethnic Chinese domination (Willmott 2009: 26) but, as it
expanded throughout the archipelago it joined the growing call for political reform
in the interests of the indigenous population as a whole.
From 1919, Sarekat Islam struggled over ideological divisions between its
Muslim and communist leaders (Kahin 1999: 27). This division emerged after the
Dutch granted limited expression to Indonesian people through the establishment of
a People’s Council (Volksraad) in 1918 (Vickers 2005: 77–78). This council, which
served as a forum for the expression of social grievances, was supported by leaders

9
See Chap. 6 for further discussion of this issue.
10
In West Sumatra, early stirrings of nationalism were apparent in Abdul Rivai’s appeal for
kemajuan, the notion of social progress, in 1904. A Minangkabau student in Holland and the
Malay editor of Bintang Hindia (Star of the Indies), Abdul Rivai stressed the importance of social
development within an Indies nation state (Abdullah 1971: 12).
11
There is some controversy about the beginnings of Sarekat Islam. According to Shiraishi
(1997: 76), the organisation was established under that name in 1912, replacing an earlier orga-
nisation, Rekso Roemekso, which was founded in 1911. However, according to McVey (1965: 8),
Sarekat Islam was established in 1911 as the Islamic Commercial Union in Surakarta.
Nationalism and Islam 31

of Budi Utomo and some moderate members of the Sarekat Islam but not by the
younger, radical members of Sarekat Islam such as Semaun, who later became the
first chairman of the Communist Party of Indonesia (Kahin 1999: 27). After violent
incidents involving attempts to rebel against colonial rule, the Dutch security body
accused the League of harbouring a group of violent subversives. In the ensuing
internal debates, moderate elements in the leadership, including a number of
Minangkabau politicians, staged a walkout, leading to a split in the organisation in
1919 (Vickers 2005: 78–79).
Meanwhile, in West Sumatra, tensions between the Kaum Muda and Kaum Tua
were initially reduced with the emergence of the nationalist movement. The vehicle
for reconciliation was the establishment of a branch of Sarekat Islam in Padang in
1915 by two Kaum Tua leaders, Haji Achmad, a local Muslim merchant, and
Syaikh Chatib Ali, a Kaum Tua leader. A number of Kaum Muda followers joined
the organisation (Abdullah 1971: 24), but the truce did not last long. 5 months later,
the Padang branch of Sarekat Islam split into two opposing groups, the White Card
(Kartu Putih) faction established by the Kaum Muda and the Red Card (Kartu
Merah) faction aligned with the Kaum Tua. The more left-wing Red Card faction
was recognised by Sarekat Islam in Java because of its opposition to Dutch colo-
nialism while the White Card faction had the approval of the Dutch (Abdullah
1971: 25–26).12
Muhammadiyah also came to play an important role in the Kaum Muda
movement. Founded by K.H. Ahmad Dahlan on 18 November 1912, Muham-
madiyah was, like Kaum Muda, a reformist organisation that supported the opening
up of the process of interpretation (ijtihad), setting aside the interpretations of
institutionalised scholars for a fresh look at religious sources. Muhammadiyah was
also concerned that Muslims were preoccupied with such things as superstition and
heretical practices, and sought to purify the faith from those practices (Dhofier
1982).13 Ahmad Dahlan had been educated for several years in Mecca, where he
studied the Qur’an, theology, astronomy and religious law, along with the writings
of the Egyptian reformist Muhammad Abduh. This experience greatly affected his
approach to Islamic thought, particularly in regard to the need to correct false
doctrine and to unite Muslim countries politically so that they could fight against
the domination of Western colonialism (Palmier 1973: 17). The name ‘Muham-
madiyah’ reflected the goals and objectives of the organisation, which were to
realign Islamic practices with the teachings of the Prophet Muhammad.

12
Datuk Sutan Maharaja responded to the establishment of the West Sumatran Sarekat Islam by
forming a Minangkabau Adat party called the Adat Association of the Minangkabau World
(Sarekat Adat Alam Minangkabau, SAAM) in September 1916. Most of the party’s members were
local panghulu and their adat staff. Datuk Sutan Maharaja not only cooperated with the Dutch but
also formulated his own explanations for the relationship between adat and religion, in which adat
was positioned as being in line with Sufi Islam, and tasauf (a personal approach to God). His
rejection of the idea that adat should be directly based on Islamic laws, as was claimed by Kaum
Muda movement, led him to cooperate with the Kaum Tua (Abdullah 1972: 230, 232).
13
For a discussion of Muhammadiyah’s position on education, see Chap. 5.
32 2 Islam, Politics and Identity

Muhammadiyah was introduced to West Sumatra in 1925 by Abdul Karim

Amrullah, also known as Haji Rasul, a strident opponent of communism who had
spent time in Java. By 1927, one-fifth of the whole population of his nagari of
Sungai Batang, Maninjau, around 2,440 people, had joined the organisation
(Abdullah 1971: 78). From Maninjau, Muhammadiyah subsequently established
branches in Padang Panjang in 1926, Bukittinggi in 1927, Padang and Batusangkar
in 1928, where it provided a base for West Sumatrans who sought to distance
themselves from the revolutionary communists who dominated the local branch of
Sarekat Islam (Abdullah 1971: 71, 84–90).14

The Rise of Political Parties

From the 1920s to the1940s, a range of political parties emerged in Indonesia as the
level of political activism increased. At the national level, the Indonesian National
Party (Partai Nasional Indonesia, PNI) was established in 1927, while leftists within
Sarekat Islam established the Islamic League Party (Partai Sarekat Islam, PSI),
which later became the Indonesian Islamic League Party (Partai Sarekat Islam
Indonesia, PSII) in 1929.15 In the same year, Tan Malaka also established the
Republic of Indonesia Party (Partai Republik Indonesia, Pari) (Kahin 1999: 58). In
West Sumatra, the Kaum Muda established a politically-oriented socio-economic
organisation, the Association of Indonesian Muslims (Persatuan Muslim Indonesia,
Permi) in 1930, which became a political party in 1932 (Noer 1973: 50). The Kaum
Tua established the Association of Islamic Schools (Persatuan Tarbiyah Islamiyah,
PTI) in the same year (Abdullah 1971: 135). A local branch of the PSII was
established in 1930, while a local branch of the PNI was established in 1932
(Abdullah 1971: 110, 183). In 1932, Permi proclaimed itself as a revolutionary and
non-cooperative party by refusing to hoist the Dutch flag during religious cele-
brations (Abdullah 1971: 176). In 1933, Kaum Tua, Kaum Muda, Muhammadiyah
and the local branch of PSII also began to adopt a revolutionary stance.16 In
response, in 1933 the Dutch imprisoned the leaders of Permi and the PSII, including
Rasuna Said, Rasimah Ismail, Datuk Singo Mangkuto and Djamaluddin (Kahin
1999: 56). In 1938, the colonial authorities established the Minangkabau Council
(Dewan Minangkabau) in an attempt to control increasingly radical local political
organisations (Kahin 1999: 90).

14
Kahin (1999: 84) argues that West Sumatran society at this time was plural and the categor-
isation of society into adat, Islamic and communist blocs is unhelpful (Kahin 1999: 84).
15
After the collapse of the Islamic Caliphate in Turkey and the failure of the Islamic World
Congress in Mecca planned in 1927, the PSII and its successor emphasised Indonesian nationalism
rather than Pan-Islamism (Abdullah 1971: 122).
16
Divisions between Islamic organisations also emerged. For example, Permi accused Muham-
madiyah of being too close to the Dutch while Muhammadiyah accused Permi activists of not
being motivated by Islam (Noer 1973: 264).
Nationalism and Islam 33

Legacies of the Japanese Occupation

The arrival of the Japanese in 1942 increased enthusiasm for the cause of inde-
pendence. The Japanese not only put an end to Dutch power but also promoted
nationalist and anti-Western sentiments in the country (Vickers 2005: 86–87).
Japanese troops arrived in Padang in March 1942 and the local Dutch commander
surrendered ten days later (Kahin 1999: 95). West Sumatra was then managed by
the Department of Military Administration (Gunseibu) of the 25th Army in
Singapore, one of three Japanese military commands in Indonesia; other two being
the 16th Army in Java and the Navy in the eastern islands and Kalimantan (Vickers
2005: 88). A year later, the 25th Army headquarters moved to Bukittinggi, from
where it administered the whole of Sumatra (Kahin 1999: 95).
The Japanese had been in contact with Islamic leaders in Indonesia and West
Sumatra for a short period of time prior to the occupation (Kahin 1974: 79). The
study of Islam had been significant in Japan since the 1920s and the Japanese
Islamic Association (Dai Nippon Kaikyo Kyokai), established in 1938, had invited
Muslims to attend an Islamic exhibition in Tokyo in the same year. No Indonesian
Muslims attended (Benda 1958: 105–106), but in 1941, just before Japan entered
the Second World War, Japanese agents had contacted Indonesian Muslim or-
ganisations such as Sarekat Islam (Benda 1958: 105). In January 1942, shortly
before the fall of the Dutch administration, Japanese agents had met Chatib
Suleiman, a member of the Dutch-sponsored Minangkabau Council, and organised
a secret organisation centred in Padang Panjang (Oki 1978: 206). After seizing
power, the Japanese rulers allowed the Islamic flag to be raised on Islamic holidays
and established the Council of Indonesian Muslim Associations (Majelis Syuro
Muslimin Indonesia, Masyumi), which after independence became a major political
party until it was banned in 1960. In their management of Islam, the Japanese
continued the Dutch Office for Native and Religious Affairs by establishing the
Religious Affairs Office (Shumubu) at the end of March 1942 (Benda 1958: 111).
The Minangkabau reformist, Abdul Karim Amrullah, was appointed as an advisor
to this body in 1942. In 1943, the Japanese also established and trained Islamic
militias, which were later the nucleus of Islamic militancy during the Darul Islam
and PRRI/Permesta rebellions.
In West Sumatra, the Japanese established a People’s Committee (Komite
Rakyat) to succeed the Dutch Minangkabau Council, along with an organisation
called Greater Japan Youth (Pemuda Nippon Raja) led by Chatib Sulaiman.
However, after the Japanese consolidated their authority in the region in late 1942,
all organisations were banned from political activities (Kahin 1974: 79–80). After
suppressing political organisations, the Japanese authorities sought to play a role
both within adat and Islam. At the supra-village level, they favoured Islam, for
example, by sending Islamic leaders from West Sumatra to a Malay Islamic con-
ference in Singapore and establishing the Minangkabau Supreme Islamic Council
34 2 Islam, Politics and Identity

(Majlis Islam Tinggi Minangkabau) in 1943 (Oki 1978). At the village level, on the
other hand, local adat leaders were given power through the maintenance of the
Dutch administrative apparatus (Kahin 1999: 106).

Islamic Politics After Independence

When the Japanese surrendered to the Allies on 15 August 1945, Sukarno, his West
Sumatran born Vice President, Muhammad Hatta, and a number of other leaders
were reluctant to proclaim independence because they felt time was needed for
planning and to set up new institutions. Their hand was forced by radical youth
associated with a group known as Menteng 31, who kidnapped Sukarno and Hatta
and forced them to proclaim independence on 17 August 1945. The proclamation of
independence, the arrival of British troops charged with disarming the Japanese and
repatriating Dutch prisoners of war, and signs that the Dutch were preparing to
reassume management of their colony led to revolution in many parts of the
country. During the revolution, the Dutch were aligned against the military and
diplomatic efforts of the newly-proclaimed Republic of Indonesia. As a result,
Indonesia was divided between the Republic and Dutch-controlled areas, with the
Republic only in control of small areas of Sumatra and Java (Vickers 2005: 97–99).
One of the tasks undertaken in the lead-up to the declaration of independence
was the design of a constitution. A key debate in that process occurred over the
status of Islam in that document. On 22 June 1945, the Preparatory Body for
Indonesian Independence (Badan Usaha-usaha Persiapan Kemerdekaan Indonesia,
BPUPKI) proposed that Indonesia be established as an Islamic state, or at the very
least, that Islam be made the state religion (Hosen 2007: 62). Known as the ‘Jakarta
Charter’, this proposal included the stipulation that all Muslim citizens be required
to observe Islamic law and fulfil the obligation to pray, fast and pay zakat (Van
Bruinessen 1996: note 5). Opponents to the Jakarta Charter, who included Sukarno
and Hatta, were concerned that its inclusion in the Constitution would lead to the
secession of non-Muslim areas of Eastern Indonesia. Ultimately, on 18 August
1945, one day after the proclamation of independence, the motion was defeated.17
Some prominent Muslims argued that the omission of the Charter from the
constitution meant the document did not guarantee their right to observe Islamic
law (Hosen 2007: 63). In an attempt to placate the Muslim lobby, Sukarno
promised Islamic leaders that they would later be given the opportunity to campaign

17
Islamic parties, including Masyumi, Nahdlatul Ulama (NU) and the Indonesian Islamic League
Party (Partai Sarikat Islam Indonesia, PSII), campaigned for inclusion of the Jakarta Charter in the
national philosophy and the constitution for a second time during the deliberations of the Indo-
nesian Constituent Assembly in 1959 (Prins 1959: 122). However, the proposal did not gain the
required two-thirds majority support (Hosen 2007: 67; Nasution 1992: 32).
Islamic Politics After Independence 35

for the inclusion of the Charter through constitutional procedures (Hosen 2007:
67).18 Moreover, to shore up support for resistance to the return of the Dutch,
Sukarno established the Ministry of Religion in January 1946 (Noer 1978: 13).
However, tensions between Islamic groups and the Republican government were
exacerbated in 1947 with the signing of the Linggajati Agreement between the
Republican government, led by the Minangkabau Sutan Sjahrir, and the Dutch,
which stated that they would work together to establish ‘a sovereign, democratic,
federal state’, of the United States of Indonesia as part of a Netherlands-Indonesia
Union—an agreement considered by Islamic political parties and organisations as
evidence of the influence of the Dutch in the Republican government (Kahin 1999:
123). The collapse of this agreement led to armed conflict with the Dutch in what
they referred to as the ‘police action’ of 1947.
In the following year, the Darul Islam rebellion broke out in West Java, led by
Sekarmadji Maridjan Kartosuwirjo. The rebellion in West Java was followed by
Darul Islam rebellions in Kalimantan, and more significantly in South Sulawesi in
1950, led by Kahar Muzakkar, and in Aceh in 1953, led by Daud Beureueh (Feith
and Lev 1963).19 Kartosuwiryo, who had initially supported the Republican gov-
ernment, proclaimed the Islamic State of Indonesia (Negara Islam Indonesia) in
1948 in protest over the Renville Agreement, the second truce between the Dutch
and the Indonesian Republic (Kahin 1999: 175). In a response to the Darul Islam
movement, Sukarno began to consider ways of increasing Muslim support for the
Republican government. He established a Council of Ulamas in West Java in 1958,
the head of which was the former regional military commander.20 After attempts in
1960 and 1961 to persuade the movement to disband, Sukarno sent military troops
to capture Kartosuwiryo and his followers on 4 June 1962.
At the same time as it faced the outbreak of the Darul Islam rebellion, the
Republican government was at war with the Dutch who attacked guerrilla strong-
holds in Java at the end of 1948. This second Dutch ‘police action’ led to the taking
of the Republican capital, Yogyakarta, at the end of 1948. President Sukarno and
Vice President Hatta were taken prisoner, leaving Syafruddin Prawiranegara to
establish a caretaker government (Pemerintah Darurat Republik Indonesia, PDRI)
in Bukittinggi. With the departure of the Dutch in 1949, the West Sumatran Muslim
politician Muhammad Natsir was appointed Prime Minister.

18
A number of attempts made to revive the Jakarta Charter during the New Order period and the
early the post-Suharto era also failed (Hosen 2007: 59–107).
19
Kahin (1999: 176) argues that Darul Islam did not take hold in West Sumatra because the
Minangkabau were not attached to any particular regional political party and were not yet inter-
ested in regional autonomy. Kartosuwirjo and Kahar Muzakar were executed in 1962 and 1965
respectively. The Indonesian government negotiated with Acehnese leaders in 1962, leading to a
peace agreement that restored Aceh as an autonomous province with special rights to implement
Islamic law. The same approach was used by Jakarta in 2005 following the 2004 tsunami and the
subsequent cessation of conflict. (For a detailed discussion of Aceh’s relations with Jakarta, see
Aspinall 2009).
20
The national-level council, the Indonesian Council of Ulamas (MUI), was subsequently
established in 1962, with the aim of gaining more support from Islamic groups (Noer 1978).
36 2 Islam, Politics and Identity

With the implementation of the parliamentary system in the 1950s, many

anti-colonial organisations were reconfigured as political parties.21 The secular
nationalist Partai Nasional Indonesia (PNI) was led by Sukarno and Hatta, while
Masyumi was re-formed as a modernist Muslim party under the leadership of
Natsir. Traditionalist Muslims were represented by Nahdlatul Ulama (NU), headed
by Kyai Haji Idham Chalib. The parliamentary system also strengthened the
position of the Indonesian Communist Party (PKI). In the national election of 1955,
the PNI received the largest proportion of the vote with 22 %, while Masyumi, NU
and the PKI gained 20, 18 and 16 % respectively (Hosen 2007: 66).
From the mid-1950s, efforts to balance the competing interests of Muslims,
communists and the military increasingly consumed Sukarno. Ideological faction-
alism was evident in the military as well. The military leadership had generally
favoured the Pancasila doctrine, leading to the expression of secularism, but Abdul
Haris Nasution, the Armed Forces Chief of Staff and Minister of Defence, wanted to
institute Islamic doctrines as an ethical and moral guide for the Armed Forces
(Crouch 2009: 410). The ideological contest between competing political interests at
the national level had a geographical element as well. Some regions were dominated
by one ideology while others were dominated by another. For example, areas in the
north and south of Central Java were dominated by the PKI while most of the eastern
and western extremes of Java were under the control of the Islamic political parties.
Masyumi dominated Sumatra, Kalimantan, Sulawesi and Maluku while the PNI was
strong in the southeastern islands from Bali to Timor (Vickers 2005: 123–124).
In an attempt to control these ideological conflicts, Sukarno adopted a consensus
approach. However, when the Ali cabinet collapsed in March 1957, leaving no
single political party with a majority of votes (Lev 1966: 12), Sukarno declared a
return to the 1945 Constitution, giving him and the military forces authoritative
power in the country.22 In this he split decisively from his deputy, Hatta, who had
also been prime minister in previous governments. The declaration of martial law
increased regional grievances in Indonesia, which the Djuanda cabinet attempted to
assuage by delivering funds for regional development (Lev 1966: 30). A National
Conference (Musyawarah Nasional) for regional leaders was also held twice in
1957 in an unsuccessful attempt to create national unity (Lev 1966: 30).23 The
PRRI/Permesta rebellion began in September 1958, when regional military officers
such as Husein, Sumual and Barlian, the commanders of Central Sumatra, North
Sulawesi and South Sumatra respectively, met in Palembang. They demanded that
the national government return Hatta to his position, grant extensive regional

21
It is important to note that youth groups also played important role in debates around national
ideology. The Indonesian Islamic Students’ Association (Himpunan Mahasiswa Islam Indonesia,
HMI), formed in 1947, was closely associated with Masyumi during the Sukarno years, and
constituted a strong force of opposition against communism (Baswedan 2004: 674).
22
Hatta had resigned as Vice President in protest against Sukarno’s growing authoritarianism in
December 1956.
23
Sukarno was almost killed in an assassination attempt known as the Cikini Affair in November
1957 (Lev 1966: 33).
Islamic Politics After Independence 37

autonomy, make changes in military leadership, and outlaw communism in

Indonesia (Lev 1966: 36; Kahin 1999: 178). In response Sukarno sent military units
led by Abdul Haris Nasution to quell the rebellion, and made illegal Natsir’s
Masyumi as well as Sjahrir’s Socialist Party. From Pekanbaru, the national military
officers took control of Medan, then Padang, and finally Gorontalo and Manado in
North Sulawesi, although PRRI/Permesta leaders carried on guerrilla warfare until
1961 (Lev 1966: 40). In a final attempt at appeasement, Sukarno issued President
Decision No. 1/PNPS/1965 in January 1965, which subsequently became Law
No. 5/1969 on Prevention of the Misuse of Religion and Blasphemy. The law
contained a prohibition on deliberate and public advocacy of an interpretation of a
religion adhered to in Indonesia, or the performance of religious activities resem-
bling the religious activities of a religion adhered to in Indonesia, where that
interpretation or activity deviated from the accepted tenets of that religion.24
Sukarno lost power when the army, under the direction of General Suharto,
destroyed the Communist Party after an attempted coup on 30 September–1 October
1965, during which six top military leaders were killed. In the months that followed,
around half a million members of the Indonesian Communist Party and others
accused of being communists were killed by the Indonesian army and Muslim
paramilitaries supported by Islamic organisations. General Suharto officially banned
the Communist Party, together with all affiliated social and cultural organisations, in
March 1966. Under intense political pressure, Sukarno transferred much of his
authority to the army and to Suharto in a Presidential Decree dated 11 March 1966.

A West Sumatran Perspective

West Sumatra was deeply involved in national politics, and in the politics of Islam,
during the Sukarno years as a consequence of the engagement of Minangkabau
figures like Haji Agus Salim from the PSII, Hatta and Sjahrir in the nationalist
movement, and their subsequent rise to power within the Republican ranks. The
province itself was also a site of Republican activity. In an attempt to shore up
support for a return to colonial status, the Dutch promoted the concept of a Min-
angkabau state (Negara Minangkabau) through local adat leaders, introducing a
form of regional government called General Unity (Persatuan Umum), which had a
military arm called the Association of Black Cats (Serikat Kucing Hitam) in 1946.
This initiative, which attracted adat leaders who had been officials during the Dutch
colonial period, served to increase the polarisation between these local leaders and
Islamic groups (Kahin 1974: 110–111).
As part of its campaign against the Republicans, in 1947, the Dutch introduced
the Special Autonomous Region of West Sumatra (Daerah Istimewa Sumatera
Barat, DISBA) in Padang, as a step towards the planned establishment of the

24
As will be seen later, this law was important in the politics of Islam in the post-Suharto era.
38 2 Islam, Politics and Identity

Negara Minangkabau in 1949 (Kahin 1999: 152). Ultimately, however, this ini-
tiative failed, and, as noted above, Bukittinggi became the seat of the Emergency
Government of the Republic of Indonesia (Pemerintahan Darurat Republik Indo-
nesia, PDRI) after the Dutch attack on Yogyakarta in 1948 (Kahin 1974: 115).
Relations between the Republic and local Muslim politicians began to sour with
the signing of the Linggajati Agreement in 1947. Islamic groups such as Masyumi
and Muhammadiyah and religious militia such as Hizbullah, Sabilillah and Lasjmi
accused the regional Republican and military leaders of continuing to maintain
close ties to the Dutch and proceeded to stage an attempted coup in March 1947.
Kahin (1999: 123) argues that the attempted coup was prompted not only by
suspicions of the regional Republican government’s close relationship with the
Dutch but also because Islamic political parties were not represented in the village
administration and in the regional Republican government. They also resented the
fact that local Islamic militias were not given arms. Islamic groups, according to
Kahin, considered higher-ranking military officers to be adopting luxurious and
immoral lifestyles that were inconsistent with Islamic principles.25 Attempts were
made to bring Islamic militia groups under the control of the regular army after the
formation of the Banteng Division in 1947. The fusion of the militias and the
regular forces was not particularly successful, as some militia commanders refused
to forfeit their independence and some military units remained loyal to their militia
commanders and to various political parties.26
The West Sumatran division of Masyumi joined a movement created by veterans
of the Banteng Division over the issue of regionalism in 1956. Together they
formed the Banteng Council and declared the Banteng Charter, demanding greater
regional autonomy, especially in matters of defence and finance. The Banteng
council was opposed by the local branch of the PKI, which prompted the formation
of a local network called the Joint Movement against Communism (Gerakan
Bersama Anti Komunisme, GEBAK) on 4 September 1957. Led by Colonel Dahlan
Djambek, GEBAK accused communist groups of accepting funds from foreign
Chinese, also suggesting that communism had caused the split between Sukarno
and Hatta. Among the propaganda used by GEBAK was the statement that West
Sumatra was considered as Islamic and national government was communist
(Kahin 1999: 191–204).27 Mansoer Sani, the new military head of Sawah Lunto

25
The tension between Islam and the Republican government in West Sumatra also affected the
relationship with communists in the region. During the March 1947 coup the Army commander
was Colonel Ismael Lengah, who had a secular education and was considered by Islamic groups to
be a socialist and a follower of Tan Malaka. Lengah refused to return weapons of the Islamic
militia even though Muhammad Natsir and the Vice President Mohammad Hatta at that time asked
him to do so (Kahin 1999: 125–127).
26
The Banteng division became the Territorial Division I and II (Divisi Bukit Barisan) of the
Indonesian National Army (Tentara Nasional Indonesia, TNI) in 1950.
27
Kahin argues that Djambek’s accusations should be contextualised in the fact that he had been
forced to resign from the Indonesian military in Jakarta after being charged with corruption, and
was seeking opportunities for influence on his return to Padang (Kahin 1999: 202–204).
Islamic Politics After Independence 39

Sijunjung district removed all communists, mostly immigrants from Java, from
civilian and military positions and arrested their leaders in 1957.
The PRRI movement in West Sumatra was headed by Syafruddin Prawiranegara
and Muhammad Natsir. According to Leirissa (1991), the rebellion was caused by
four factors. First, there had been a significant Javanisation of the outer islands from
1955, which local powerbrokers feared would enable the national government to
easily control Central Sumatra. Second, the national economy was in crisis, and
poverty was rampant not only among civilians but among lower level military units
in the region. Third, there had been a history of local and national coup attempts by
communists, including the local attempt on 3 March 1947 in West Sumatra. Finally,
fragmentation in the local and national armed military made a regional uprising
possible. Kahin (1999: 198, 207), however, suggests that the PRRI was made
possible because of US support as part of attempts to encourage a national front
against communism. The national government sent military forces to the province
and PRRI leaders were captured and killed in 1961 (Kahin 1999: 226). Following
the rebellion, control over the regional army was put in the hands of communist
groups within the Diponegoro Division, who proceeded to entrench their power in
the local military (Kahin 1999: 236). Civilians who supported the rebellion were
also detained in jails or kept under house arrest (Kahin 1999: 228). The political
repression that followed the PRRI prompted many Minangkabau to migrate to other
regions, including Jakarta, and also to Malaysia.
The involvement of Masyumi leaders in the PRRI and Darul Islam rebellions led
Sukarno to ban to ban the party and imprison a number of its leaders, including
Syafruddin and Natsir. The same fate befell the Indonesian Socialist Party (Partai
Sosialis Indonesia, PSI) and its leaders, including Sukarno’s long-time nemesis, the
West Sumatran Sutan Sjahrir (Kahin 1999: 236). In West Sumatra, the banning of
Masyumi meant that Muslims voters were forced to support the traditionalist Perti,
which had rejected support for the Banteng Council and the PRRI movement and
agreed with Sukarno’s Guided Democracy (Kahin 1999: 246). It was in this
political context that Haji Abdul Malik bin Abdul Karim Amrullah, better known as
Hamka, the son of the founder of Muhammadiyah’s West Sumatra branch, Haji
Rasul, began criticising Sukarno from Jakarta. Hamka had worked in the Ministry
of Religion in Jakarta from 1951 to 1960, also serving as a Masyumi member of the
Indonesian Constituent Assembly representing Central Java from 1955 to 1960.
Hamka challenged Sukarno’s personal and political behaviour, including his
polygamous tendencies and his close association with communism, a view widely
shared in West Sumatra. Sukarno responded by having Hamka arrested in 1964
under the Subversion Law.
After the failure of the alleged communist coup in Jakarta in 1965, the national
government held trials for regional communist leaders in Padang, including Major
Djohan Rivai, Leitenant Colonel Bainal and Sukirno as well as PKI members such
Djajusman (Kahin 1999: 240). Tens of thousands of communists were jailed
without trial, and although no exact figures are available on the number of those
killed (Kahin 1999: 248), it is clear that the numbers were significant. In addition,
communist officials who had been dominant in the administrative structure of West
40 2 Islam, Politics and Identity

Sumatra after the PRRI were replaced by anti-communist military officers in 1966
(Kahin 1999: 235). The regional army under Colonel Poniman also isolated tra-
ditional adat and religious associations that had been associated with communism,
such as the Supreme Consultative Council of the Adat of the Minangkabau World
(Majelis Tinggi Kerapatan Adat Alam Minangkabau, MTKAAM) and the Islamic
Educational Movement Party (Partai Pergerakan Tarbiyah Islamiyah, Perti) (Kahin
1999: 245–246). In their place, a new adat organisation, the Minangkabau Adat
Consultative Body (Lembaga Kerapatan Adat Alam Minangkabau, LKAAM) and a
group called the Contact Body for the Struggle of the Islamic Community (Badan
Kontak Perjuangan Umat Islam, BKPUI) were established in 1966 (Interview with
Saafroedin Bahar, 3 November 2010).

Islam and Politics in Suharto’s Indonesia

Over the course of his presidency, Suharto adopted a ‘two-pronged Islamic policy’,
on the one hand denouncing the politicisation of religion (and especially Islamic
political parties) while encouraging personal—but moderate—piety (Liddle 1996:
621). For a short time, the Muslim lobby was viewed favourably by the new regime
as a result of Muslim involvement in the anti-communist massacres. Members of
HMI who had fought against communism took up positions in Suharto’s admin-
istration and the Islamic parties were confident they would do well in the election
promised by Suharto in his early days in office (Hefner 2001: 503). However, at the
same time, Suharto moved swiftly to contain political Islam. He refused to support
an attempt to revive Masyumi in April–May 1967, because of the party’s former
association with rebellion and its promotion of political Islam (Ricklefts 2001: 356–
357). Masyumi members subsequently joined the Indonesian Muslim Party (Partai
Muslimin Indonesia, Parmusi), which was later controlled by Suharto, who pre-
vented prominent members, including Mohammad Natsir, Muhammad Roem and
Pramoto Mangkusaswito, from heading the party (Samson 1973: 5).28 In 1968, the
People’s Consultative Assembly rejected calls for the inclusion of Jakarta Charter in
the Indonesian Constitution for the third time in Indonesian history. Those who
sought to link Islamic laws with the constitution were accused of being subversive
(Hosen 2007: 72).
Despite Suharto’s political vehicle, Golkar, winning by a landslide in the 1971
election, the New Order continued to seek to limit the influence of political parties,
in 1973 fusing the nationalist parties into the Indonesian Democratic Party (Partai
Demokrasi Indonesia, PDI) and all remaining Muslim parties into the United

28
The former Masyumi leaders established the Islamic Propagation Council of Indonesia (Dewan
Dakwah Islamiyah Indonesia, DDII) in 1967. DDII has strong links with Saudi Arabia. It has sent
Indonesian youths to study in the Middle Eastern countries and has funded the construction of
mosques and Islamic schools in Indonesia (Hasan 2002).
Islam and Politics in Suharto’s Indonesia 41

Development Party (Partai Persatuan Pembangunan, PPP).29 NU and Muham-

madiyah were depoliticised in the 1970s, while allowing those organisations’
religious activities to continue (Caraway 2007: 78). Muslim political forces were
also one of a number of targets of the Campus Normalisation Act of 1978 (Nor-
malisasi Kehidupan Kampus, NKK), under which all political activity on university
campuses was banned. However, the repression of student activism actually served
to push some groups of students more towards Islam. Students at the Bandung
Institute of Technology (Institut Teknologi Bandung, ITB), for example, made the
Salman Mosque the centre of their social and political activities, a focus that
exposed them to the ideas of the Muslim Brotherhood, a movement that positions
Islam as the solution to all political, social and personal problems.
In the early 1980s, there was a fear of Islamic terrorism, in part the result of the
National Intelligence Organisation (Badan Koordinasi Intelijen Negara, BAKIN)’s
anxiety over the increase in Muslim militancy following the Iranian Revolution
(Conboy 2004: 161). A number of violent incidents did indeed take place. A Gar-
uda jet was hijacked in 1981, while Chinese Indonesian banks and the Borobudur
monument were bombed in 1984. In 1982, Suharto introduced a policy on ethnic,
religious, racial and class relations (Suku, Agama, Ras dan Antargolongan, SARA)
(Heryanto 1997). This policy began to be implemented with the passing of Law
No. 21/1982 on the Duties of the Press, which mandated that it was the duty of all
media to strengthen national unity and cohesion by avoiding reports on events
related to ethnicity, religion, race or class which might lead to social conflict. With
Suharto’s subsequent announcement, the term SARA became a tool for the gov-
ernment to use against any political activities that it considered to be a threat to the
New Order regime (Heryanto 1997).
At the same time that his government was increasingly seeking to control
political Islam, Suharto made appeals to personal piety as a means of achieving his
national projects. In 1982, the Ministry of Religion was expanded and Islamic
centres, schools and mosques began receiving subsidies from the Pancasila Muslim
Charity Foundation (Yayasan Amal Bhakti Muslim Pancasila, YABMP). In the
following year, Suharto convinced the MUI to issue a decree to help accelerate the
government’s family planning program. Suharto had sought support from Islamic
leaders on family planning since the 1970s, and it was for this reason that the two
methods of fertility control most opposed by Muslims, abortion and sterilisation,
were omitted from the program. At the same time, the support of the MUI was
sought on the use of intra-uterine devices, which had been controversial before the
decree was issued. Some Islamic leaders were also invited to receive formal training
and then asked to actively promote the family planning project (Warwick 1986).

29
Golkar won the 1971 election easily, with 62 % of the vote in Indonesia as a whole (Hindley
1972: 58). For more discussion on this period see for example Reeve (1985) and Suryadinata
(1989).
42 2 Islam, Politics and Identity

However, not all Muslims were appeased by the New Order regime’s support for
religious activities. The most serious incident in the early 1980s was the Tanjung
Priok Massacre of 1984. Thousands of Muslims engaged in protest against the
government. Troops fired into the crowd with automatic rifles, killing dozens,
perhaps even hundreds (van Bruinessen 1996). Van Bruinessen (1996) argues that
the protest in the Tanjung Priok was mainly triggered by protesters’ economic
grievances. In the following year, Suharto announced that Pancasila was to be the
sole foundation (azas tunggal) for all social and political organisations. As Hosen
(2007: 72) has shown, azas tunggal had two different consequences for Muslims:
those who rejected it went to jail while those who accepted it, including Nahdlatul
Ulama and Muhammadiyah, continued to operate in conjunction with the Suharto
government. Opponents of the doctrine feared that accepting Pancasila would
compromise their organisational integrity and independence, and turn them into
secular organisations (Ramage 1995: 37).
Eventually, however, a number of changes to be made that increased state
support for Islamic institutions. In 1989, the Islamic education system was accorded
formal status as a sub-system of the Indonesian educational system, and religious
education was made compulsory in state primary and secondary schools, as well as
in universities (see Chap. 5 for more details). In the same year, Islamic courts were
integrated into the national justice system (Hosen 2007: 73). In 1990, the Indo-
nesian Association of Muslim Intellectuals (Ikatan Cendekiawan Muslim Indonesia,
ICMI) was established under the sponsorship of Suharto and headed by B.J.
Habibie, then the Minister for Research and Technology. The stated goals of ICMI
were to unify Indonesia’s Muslims, to improve their economic status and to ensure
Islamic values were reflected in government policy (ICMI 2011; van Bruinessen
1996).30 Among other initiatives, ICMI established the Muslim newspaper
Republika as a competitor to the Catholic-owned Kompas and the Protestant-owned
Suara Pembaharuan. The publication of Republika was seen as a necessary foil for
these other papers because Indonesian newspapers are known to promote the
interests of their owners and their allies (Tapsell 2010). ICMI also initiated the
establishment of the Islamic Bank Muamalat Indonesia in 1991 to compete with
Chinese owned banks (van Bruinessen 1996).

30
Schwarz (1999) argues that the organisation was in fact set up to facilitate Muslim input into
public policy. However, van Bruinessen (1996) claims that ICMI was designed to generate Muslim
support to balance growing dissent within the armed forces. From 1987 to 1993, Suharto was in
conflict with the powerful armed forces commander, the chief of the major intelligence services
and then the Minister for Defence, the Catholic Benny Moerdani. According to Baswedan (2004),
Suharto’s change of heart was not only designed to balance the power of the armed forces, but also
to accommodate the increasing strength of Islamic elements within Golkar. At the 1998 national
convention, members of ICMI and former members of HMI gained control over the party’s
leadership. .
Islam and Politics in Suharto’s Indonesia 43

West Sumatra

In an attempt to mend bridges in West Sumatra, on coming to power, the Suharto

regime appointed Harun Zain, a Minangkabau born in Jakarta but then a teacher at
Andalas University in Padang, as governor of the province in 1967. Harun was
eager to show West Sumatrans that they would benefit by working with the New
Order, working hard to develop agricultural and communication infrastructure in
the province (Kahin 1999). In 1969, as part of the lead-up to the 1971 election, the
military officer Saafroedin Bahar was appointed head of the local Golkar branch. He
subsequently led the campaign to convince West Sumatra’s people that support for
Golkar was crucial for the continuance of regional development (Interview with
Saafroedin Bahar, 3 November 2010). In West Sumatra, Golkar ultimately bettered
its national average, winning 63 % of the votes in that election (Kahin 1999).
Harun also sought to re-establish an understanding of Minangkabau heritage and
regional identity that did not emphasise Islam, for example by promoting the use of
traditional architecture in official buildings (Kahin 1999). As part of this push,
Islamic leaders were sidelined in Harun’s regional development program. Sup-
porters of Masyumi, for example, were asked to distance themselves from political
Islam in the interests of regional development (Kahin 1999).
Azwar Anas, a military officer, replaced Harun Zain as Governor of West Sumatra
in 1977. The greatest challenge he faced during his term in office was that of
implementing Law No. 5/1979 on Village Governance, which determined the basis
on which funding was to be allocated to each province. Although Azwar succeeded in
establishing a way of identifying villages (based on the Javanese concept of the desa)
that did not disadvantage the province in terms of funding (Kahin 1999: 258), the
implementation of this law undermined the status of the nagari, which not only linked
rural society to land, inheritance and rice cultivation but also to social and cultural
relationships, including those based on kinship and cultural Islam.
In an attempt to retain some traditional authority, Azwar established a Village
Adat Council (Kerapatan Adat Nagari, KAN) within each desa in 1983 (Kahin
1999: 260). However, local dissatisfaction with the division of nagari into several
desa continued to grow. After Hasan Basri Durin was appointed governor in 1987,
he overturned Azwar’s policy, regrouping some of the smallest desa in 1988 (Kahin
1999: 261).31 He also encouraged cooperation between traditional rural leaders,
Islamic scholars, intellectuals and government officials, establishing the Manunggal
Sakato program in 1990. In the following year he established Village Development
Discussion Bodies (Musyawarah Pembangunan Nagari, MPN), which were made
up of both nagari leaders and government officials.
Muchlis Ibrahim replaced Durin as governor in 1997 but he stepped down 2 years
later when his recommendation for the position of Deputy Governor was rejected by
the central government. Ibrahim had supported Nurmawan, a bureaucrat in the pro-
vincial office. However, Syarwan Hamid, the Minister for Internal Affairs, appointed

31
Between 1987 and 1996, the number of desa decreased by 1,000 (Kahin 1999: 261).
44 2 Islam, Politics and Identity

Zainal Bakar, the candidate backed by the regional parliament (Dewan Perwakilan
Rakyat Daerah, DPRD). The tension between the governor and the DPRD marked the
beginning of a new era in West Sumatran local politics, in which Islam once more
became a pivotal factor after many years in the wilderness under the New Order.

Islam and Identity Since Suharto

When Suharto was forced to step down from the presidency in 1998, his close ally,
B.J. Habibie, was appointed as the new President. Following the fall of Suharto,
Indonesia’s political system underwent dramatic change through a series of insti-
tutional reforms, which saw the reintroduction of an open system of electoral
democracy. In the process, Islamic parties re-emerged as a force in the new multi-
party system. Islamic nationalist parties established during this period included the
National Awakening Party (Partai Kebangkitan Bangsa, PKB), led by Abdurahman
Wahid, the head of NU and a long-time campaigner for democracy, and the
National Mandate Party (Partai Amanat Nasional, PAN), led by Amien Rais, an
academic, democracy campaigner and then leader of Muhammadiyah. Other Isla-
mic parties were the United Development Party (Partai Persatuan Pembangunan,
PPP), the party established in 1973, the Crescent and Star Party (Partai Bulan
Bintang, PBB), the successor to Masyumi, led by Yuzril Mahendra, an academic
and prominent Muslim political figure from Bangka Belitung, who served as
Suharto’s speech writer in his final term, and the Justice Party (Partai Keadilan, PK)
that emerged from the university students’ association, the Body for Islamic
Propagation on Campus (Lembaga Dakwah Kampus, LDK) in the early 1980s,
inspired by the Muslim Brotherhood (Ikhwanul Muslimin) movement in Egypt.32
Despite the failure of Islamic parties to gain a majority in any of the post-1998
elections, they have played an important role in national politics since the fall of
Suharto. In 1999, the Central Axis (Poros Tengah) coalition of Islamic parties
delivered the presidency to Abdurrahman Wahid (Gus Dur) rather than to
Megawati, the leader of the winning party in the 1999 election, the Indonesian
Democratic Party-Struggle (Partai Demokrasi Perjuangan Indonesia, PDIP).
Representatives of various Islamic parties have also taken key roles in government.
Yusril Mahendra, the head of the PBB, was a minister in various departments from
2000 to 2007, while Hamzah Haz was Vice President in the Megawati adminis-
tration from 2001 to 2004. Hidayat Nurwahid, the president of the PKS, served as
leader of Indonesia’s highest legislative body, the People’s Consultative Assembly,
between 2004 and 2009. The PKS, which has played an influential role in the
Islamicisation of political discourse, has alternated between appealing to an Islamic
agenda and emphasising issues of general concern such as corruption, law

32
The Justice Party changed its name to the Prosperous Justice Party (Partai Keadilan Sejahtera,
PKS) in 2002 after failing to reach the electoral threshold of 2 % in the 1999 election.
Islam and Identity Since Suharto 45

enforcement and social welfare.33 During this time, a number of Islamic laws were
also passed at the national level, including laws on Zakat Management (1999 and
2011), Islamic banking (2008), charitable land (wakaf) (2004), pornography (2008)
and the Hajj (2008). In the process of constitutional reform from 1999 to 2002, the
PPP and the PBB lobbied for the inclusion of the Jakarta Charter. However, this
move was strongly opposed by other Islamic parties, especially PAN and PKB.34
A second key development in the post-Suharto period was the introduction of
decentralisation. In 2001, after more than three decades under a centralised national
government, political power was devolved under Law No. 22/1999 on Regional
Autonomy to around 400 district authorities in all but five areas, namely national
defence and security, the judicial system, fiscal and monetary policy, foreign and
religious affairs.35 Decentralisation and democratisation have proven to be a
powerful mix, as members of local parliaments and heads of local executives have
been directly elected since 1999 and 2004 respectively. This dramatic shift in the
architecture of Indonesia’s political system has fundamentally changed the rela-
tionship between politicians and officials and voters. Since that time, local gov-
ernments have passed regulations on everything from labour relations to taxation.
An unintended consequence of the decentralisation of regulatory authority has been
the passing of more than 160 religious regulations at the district level. West
Sumatran local parliaments have been responsible for more of these laws than local
parliaments in any other province, (Crouch 2009: 54, 58), although laws passed by
the West Javanese province of Banten have been the most controversial.36 In
addition, a number of other mechanisms, including Gubernatorial Letters (Surat
Gubernur), Gubernatorial Instructions (Instruksi Gubernur), Mayoral Instructions
(Instruksi Walikota), Circulars (Surat Edaran) and Appeals (Himbauan) have been
used to enforce aspects of Islamic practice. As demonstrated in the chapters that
follow, Islamic practices are also promoted through public discourse by way of
seminars, conferences, and the regional media—but also through the actions of
radical organisations such as Lasykar Jihad, the Islamic Defenders’ Front (Front
Pembela Islam, FPI) and the Indonesian Mujahidin Council (Majelis Mujahidin
Indonesia, MMI), which have particularly targeted ‘un-Islamic’ forms of behaviour,
for example, by engaging in raids on entertainment venues.37

33
Scholars have written extensively on the PKS. See, for example, Fealy (2010), and Tomsa
(2011).
34
Hosen (2007) argues that this was the case because Muslims have generally been more con-
cerned more with maintaining the right to practise Islam freely, than with the establishment of
formal Islamic laws through which the state enforces religious practice.
35
For more discussion on Regional Autonomy, see, for example, Aspinall and Fealy (2003),
Hadiz (2010) and Sakai (2002).
36
A report from Human Rights Watch in 2010 suggests that more than 200 regional Islamic
regulations had been implemented throughout the country.
37
The most radical of these organisations is the Jamaah Islamiyah, which was the main group
behind the bombing of Western-linked targets like the Sari Club in Bali in 2002 (Jones 2005).
Some observers assert that there has not been a strong enough response from the government to
46 2 Islam, Politics and Identity

Such has been the controversy over local governments’ enthusiasm for Islamic
regulation that in 2004 the central government passed Law No. 10/2004 on Law-
making in an attempt to prevent the practice, declaring that religious affairs
remained the responsibility of the central government (Crouch 2009: 56). However,
local Islamic regulations continue to be promoted and enforced. In West Sumatra,
the most recent of these was Regulation No. 2/2010 on the Implementation of
Zakat, which was passed in April of that year.

Conclusion: The Assertion of Islamic Identity in West

Sumatra

The chapter has demonstrated the interplay between transnational and local factors
from the advent of Islam in the Malay world to the post-Suharto era. The chapter
has identified the key phases in West Sumatra’s history and positioned them in the
broader history of the archipelago and the Malay world. It has also demonstrated
that the relationship between Islam and Minangkabau culture was simultaneously
accommodating and contested, and that the strong association between Islam and
regional identity only solidified in the post-Suharto era.
The chapter has demonstrated how the Minangkabaus’ matrilineal culture has
been shaped by successive waves of foreign influence, including Hindu-Buddhism
as well as Islam. As has been shown here, the Minangkabaus’ connection with the
Malay world increased the acceptance of Syaria-centric understandings of Islam,
first introduced by reformist Muslims coming back from Mecca in the 17th century.
Gradually, Syaria-oriented Islam, and later Wahabism, largely replaced the Sufi
form first adopted, which was more accommodating of local beliefs. However, as
also shown here, Islam as an ideology was subordinated after Independence days,
and again under the New Order, this time to a largely secular formulation of
national identity.
Indeed, it has only been in the post-Suharto period that Islam has assumed a
hegemonic position in Minangkabau identity discourse. In contemporary West
Sumatra, regional governments has been utilising claims that local customs are

(Footnote 37 continued)
acts of this kind because of links between the military and the militant groups and a failure of law
enforcement (van Bruinessen 2002; Azra 2006). Lieutenant-General Prabowo Subianto has been
said to be associated with the Indonesian Committee for Solidarity with the Muslim World
(Komite Indonesia untuk Solidaritas Dunia Islam, KISDI) and the Indonesian Islamic Propagation
Council (Dewan Dakwah Islamiyah Indonesia, DDII), both of which strongly support militant
Islamic groups (Rabaza 2010: 26). As reported by Wikileaks, the FPI was also initially funded by
the former head of the Indonesian Police Department, Retired General Sutanto, now the head of
the Indonesian Intelligence Agency (Badan Koordinasi Inteligen Nasional, BAKIN). There are
many studies on Islamic radicalism in Indonesia. See, for example, van Bruinessen (2002), Rabasa
(2003), Eliraz (2004), Lim (2005) and Hadiz (2008).
Conclusion: The Assertion of Islamic Identity in West Sumatra 47

based on Islam and Islam is based on the Qur’an (Adat Basandi Syarak, Syarak
Basandi Kitabullah, ABS-SBK). This assertion is ubiquitous, appearing as justifi-
cation for almost every political decision made at the provincial level and below.
Moreover, every disaster, from the 1997 Asian Financial Crisis to natural disasters
such as floods, landslides and earthquakes, has been attributed to the community’s
failure to meet its religious obligations. For example, after the 2004 tsunami, large
billboards were displayed throughout the city of Padang proclaiming ‘religiosity
must be practised in order to prevent a tsunami’.
Important as they have been, however, it is not simply the twin processes of
democratisation and decentralisation in the Post-Suharto that have given rise to the
Islamicisation of social policy in contemporary West Sumatra. As the chapters that
follow show, Islamic regionalism has drawn on two additional and related pro-
cesses, both of which have transnational elements. First, the failure of the central
government to support economic development in this resource-poor province has
prompted regional leaders to seek out alternative models and sources of capital for
development, many of them drawn from elsewhere in the Islamic world. Second, in
a continuation of the process chronicled in this chapter, engagement with the global
umma has encouraged a quite dramatic shift in local understandings of what it
means to be a Muslim and therefore, in the current political context, a
Minangkabau.

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Chapter 3
Islamic Finance

Abstract This chapter demonstrates how the Islamic financial system has been
shaped by, and come to reflect, broader socio-cultural, political and economic
developments such as the 1997 economic crisis in Indonesia and increases in oil
welfare from Middle Eastern countries. The chapter argues that a complex system
of socio-economic pressures and financial systems at the regional, national and
transnational levels has enabled the regional governments to engage in Islamic
financial system. The chapter suggests that the involvement was driven by the
capacity to distribute resources to large sections of the population through small
business groups provided a useful mechanism for shoring up electoral support.
It also argues that the presence of a robust Islamic banking system was vital to the
regional government’s attempts to source additional financial resources from the
Islamic world that could be used to fund local development.

Keywords Islamic finance
Local politics
Socio-economic developments

With more than 500 Islamic financial institutions in 75 countries, Islamic finance
has increased in significance and availability as a result of growing markets in
regional and transnational Islamic communities. Total assets within the Islamic
financial system worldwide are US$1 trillion, or an estimated 4 % of the global
economy in 2008 (ABC Online 20 November 2008), up from US$700 million in
2007 (Banker 2007). Furthermore, with an annual growth rate of 10 %, the system
is expanding at a higher rate than conventional banking (Karim et al. 2008). Of the
market for Islamic financial products, 36 % is in the Middle East countries, and
35 % is in Asia and Africa (Banker 2007).
Within Indonesia, Islamic finance has become institutionalised since the late
New Order, with the establishment of Bank Muamalat Indonesia (BMI) in 1991, the
formalisation of dual banking systems in 1998 and the subsequent promulgation of
an Islamic Banking Law in 2008. While once marginal in the country, Islamic
finance is now an important part of national and regional strategies to promote
economic development and to mitigate the impact of fluctuations in global markets.
Along with conventional systems, Indonesia has attempted to develop a model of

© Springer International Publishing Switzerland 2015 53

D.P. Salim, The Transnational and the Local in the Politics of Islam,
DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-15413-8_3
54 3 Islamic Finance

Islamic financial systems that has come to be linked to development projects and
social and economic reform.
Previous studies have generally viewed Islamic finance as a product of symbolic
interaction with the West and have therefore regarded the establishment of Islamic
financial institutions as a display of Islamic identity (Kuran 1997). Studies of
Islamic finance in Indonesia have also suggested that the development of Islamic
finance mechanisms has been fuelled by criticisms of Western conventional
banking after the 1997 economic crisis (Lubis 2004) and the success of Islamic
finance in other Islamic countries (Saeed 1999; Lubis 2004). Critics have shown,
however, that Islamic finance is highly pragmatic (Saeed 2004), and shares a high
degree of similarity with conventional banking (Kuran 1995).
This chapter situates the spread of Islamic finance in West Sumatra in the context
of the 1997 economic crisis in Indonesia and increases in oil welfare from Middle
Eastern countries, demonstrating how the Islamic financial system has been shaped
by, and come to reflect, broader socio-cultural, political and economic develop-
ments. Drawing on the market relational approach, it examines the interplay
between the local socio-political and economic realms and transnational Islam,
emphasising the highly spatialised character of the Islamic financial system. The
structure of the chapter is as follows. After describing Islamic finance in terms of its
ethical criteria, institutions and products, I outline the market relations created by
the successful development of Islamic finance in Islamic countries before exam-
ining the motivation and aspirations of government officials and users for Islamic
finance in Indonesia and West Sumatra.
The chapter argues that the political motives of regional governments in
endorsing Islamic financial systems were a response to a complex system of socio-
economic pressures and financial systems at the regional, national and transnational
levels. In short, the decision of local governments in West Sumatra to engage in the
promotion of Islamic finance and the development of Islamic financial institutions
was driven by both inward and outward looking considerations. In terms of the
former, the capacity to distribute resources to large sections of the population
through small business groups provided a useful mechanism for shoring up elec-
toral support. In terms of the latter, the presence of a robust Islamic banking system
was vital to the regional government’s attempts to source additional financial
resources from the Islamic world that could be used to fund local development.

The Religious and Social Meanings of Islamic Finance

Everyday language sometimes depicts Islamic finance as a subject: ‘Islamic finance

does, or must do, this or that’. Sometimes it treats Islamic finance as an object, in
the form of a particular product or economic group bent on pursuing particular
projects or interests. Indeed, Islamic finance changes shape and appearance with the
activities being described, the scale on which it operates, the political economic
forces acting upon it, and the circumstances in which it operates.
The Religious and Social Meanings of Islamic Finance 55

This is in part because the definition of Islamic finance is very broad.

As described by Lewis and Hassan (2007a: 2), Islamic finance is an economic
system that seeks to promote:
Economic well being with full employment and a high rate of economic growth, socio
economic justice and an equitable distribution of income and wealth, stability in the value
of money, and the mobilization and investment of savings for economic development in
such as a way that a just (profit sharing) return is ensured to all parties involved … and the
opportunity to conduct religiously legitimate financial operations.

As this definition suggests, Islamic finance can be defined in terms of Islamic

ethics and rules as they pertain to economic activities (Roy 1991; Kuran 1995;
Billah 1998; Rice 1999; Hakim 2007).
As Islam originated in the commercial city of Mecca, it is not surprising that
economic activity is an important subject within Islamic ethics (Venardos 2006:
40). There are 20 invocations of riba (interest, sometimes translated as usury), in
the Qur’an. Among these, five verses in particular stand out1:
Those that live on interest will not rise (on Doomsday) but like a man possessed of the devil
and demented. This because they say that trading is like usury. But trade has been sanc-
tioned and usury forbidden by God. Those who are warned by their Lord and desist will
keep (what they have taken of interest) already, and the matter will rest with God. But those
who revert to it again are the residents of Hell where they will abide for ever (Q 2: 275).

God takes away (gain) from usury, but adds (profit) to charity; and God does not love the
ungrateful and sinners (Q 2: 276).

O Believers, fear God and forego the interest that is owing, if you really believe (Q 2: 278).

O you who believe, do not practice usury, charging doubled and redoubled (interest); but
have fear of God: you may well attain your goal (Q 3: 130).

What you give on interest to increase (your capital) through others’ wealth, does not find
increase with God; yet what you give (in alms and charity) with a pure heart, seeking the
way of God, will be doubled (Q 30: 39).

Despite the variety of interpretations on riba in the Qur’an, there is consensus

among scholars that the Qur’an bans all charging of interest, regardless of its rate
and form.
Islamic financial products use different mechanisms to attract investors, encour-
aging participatory finance and banning speculation in order to avoid extreme, and
socially disruptive, financial losses. Islamic finance also mandates that financial
decisions are guided by a set of behavioural norms defined in scripture (Kuran 1986;
Hakim 2007) such as productivity and distributional equity (Choudhury 1983),
mutual co-operation (Gamal 2007), solidarity, ‘brotherhood’ in sharing profits (Billah
1998) and the obligation of alms giving, or zakat (Kuran 1986; Philipp 1990).

1
All quotations from the Qur’an are taken from the Ahmed Ali translation: Al-Qur’an: A Con-
temporary Translation (1984).
56 3 Islamic Finance

Speculation and the funding of destructive activities are prohibited, along with
avoidance of waste, extravagance, and ostentation (Saeed 2004).
As this suggests, the theoretical lineage of the Islamic economic system is anal-
ogous to what has come to be known in recent decades in the West as ‘ethical
investment’ (Wilson 1997). Wilson shows us that the ethical funds that have been
established in Europe develop both positive and negative ethical criteria. In response
to the demands of particular types of customers, Western ethical finance prioritises
green finance and industries that are not involved in activities such as arms produc-
tion. Companies may be rewarded by ethical investors for characteristics such as
product quality, safety, as well as involvement in environmental projects, sustainable
forestation and energy savings, or be punished for activities such as the promotion of
gambling or pornography, or tobacco or alcohol production.

Modern Islamic Banking

Scholars differ in their identification of the beginnings of modern Islamic banking.

Lewis and Algaoud (2001) argue that the first Islamic banks were established in
Malaya in 1940s. The concept re-emerged in the 1950s in Pakistan, when a group of
landlords made deposits without interest to help poorer landowners in sustaining
agricultural production. Ariff (1988), Iqbal and Mirakhor (1999), Akacem and Gillian
(2002) and Storm et al. (2007) argue that Islamic finance started with the establish-
ment of a shared bank in Egypt in 1963 called the Mit Ghamr Local Savings bank,
while Salem (2008) identifies 1975 as the year of the emergence of Islamic finance
with the establishment of the Faisal Bank in Egypt, which started offering Islamic
financial services. According to Ariff (1988: 48), these early Islamic banks functioned
as ‘saving investment institutions rather than as commercial banks’.
By the end of the 1970s, around ten Islamic banks had been established,
including the Islamic Development Bank (IDB) in Saudi Arabia (1975), the Dubai
Islamic Bank (1975), the Faisal Islamic Bank of Sudan (1977) and the Bahrain
Islamic Bank (1979).2 A similar number of banks were established in the 1980s,
including banks such as the Abu Dhabi Islamic bank (1980), the Qatar Islamic Bank
(1981) and the Malaysia Islamic Bank Ltd (1983). Since that time, Islamic finance
has been a key site of economic power relations in the Islamic world. Islamic
banking soon began appearing in other parts of the Islamic world, underwritten by
the IDB. Islamic financial institutions have successfully entered international
markets in countries like Pakistan, Turkey, Morocco, Bangladesh, Jordan, Malay-
sia, Bahrain and Indonesia (Wilson 1997; Salem 2008), tapping into growing local
demand (Bahar 2005, cited in Salem 2008).

2
Apart from the Islamic Development Bank, which is owned mostly by the Gulf countries,
Verdasco (2006: 63) shows that there is no bank with a name that incorporates the word ‘Islam’ or
‘Islamic’ in Saudi Arabia and only one bank, established in 1987, operating on Islamic principles
there.
The Religious and Social Meanings of Islamic Finance 57

Islamic financial institutions reached the Western world and minority Muslim
countries after the establishment of Islamic Saving and Loan in India in the 1970s
and the Islamic Finance House in Luxemburg in 1978 (Ariff 1988). Beyond the
Muslim world, currently Islamic financial services have become available in India,
China, Japan, Germany, Switzerland, Luxemburg, the United Kingdom, the United
States, New Zealand, Australia and Canada.3 In addition, two large international
banks have established Islamic units in their banks: the Hong Kong and Shanghai
Banking Corporation (HSBC)’s Amanah and the Union de Bangues Suisses
(UBS)’s Noriba (Lewis and Hassan 2007b).
As Islamic banking gained momentum, conferences and centres were created to
further develop the concept and the application of Islamic finance. So far, there
have been six international conferences on Islamic economics: Saudi Arabia 1976,
Pakistan 1983, Malaysia 1992, the United Kingdom 2000, Bahrain, 2003 and
Malaysia 2008. The more recent Malaysian conference was held in collaboration
with Monash University in Australia. In addition to the IDB, international Islamic
financial institutions now include the Accounting and Auditing Organisation for
Islamic Financial Institutions (AAOIFI), Islamic Financial Services Board (IFSB),
International Islamic Financial Market (IIFM), International Islamic Rating Agency
(IIRA), International Islamic Centre for Reconciliation and Commercial Arbitration
and General Council of Islamic Banks and Financial Institutions (GCIBFI) (Iqbal
2007). Several academic centres have been established in non-Islamic countries,
including those at Harvard and Oxford universities (Lubis 2004).
There is on-going debate about the reasons for this contemporary development
of Islamic finance. Some claim that this trend developed in response to the oil crises
of the 1950s and 1970s, when oil rich states such as Saudi Arabia, the United Arab
Emirates and Kuwait emerged as major international financial powers (Saeed 1999:
315). Philipp (1990) argues that the Islamic financial system emerged as a result of
the establishment of the Islamic state of Pakistan and the attempt by Muslims
around the world to engage in symbolic interaction with the West, embedded within
normative discourses and mirroring networks within the Islamic world that intersect
with discourses about Islamic identity and solidarity (see also Kuran 1997).
According to Saeed (1999: 315), initiatives to establish a global Islamic financial
system emerged after internationally-recognised Islamic leaders such as Hasan
Al-Banna, Sayyid Qutb and Abu al-A’la Mawdudi attacked the presence of con-
ventional banking in Islamic communities, while Maurer (2005) argues that the
movement of Muslim students and professionals to the United States and the United
Kingdom in the 1970s and 1980s, coupled with increased oil prices in the Middle
East in the same period, led to the emergence of the concept. Oil revenue is,
however, widely recognised as a contributing factor (Saeed 1999). For example,
Saeed (1999) argues that oil revenue funded Islamic banking institutions such as the
Islamic Development Bank (IDB) and that in both Gulf countries and non-oil

3
Wilson (2007: 430) argues that Islamic banks in Britain and United States are still largely
supplied by Saudi Arabia and Bahrain.
58 3 Islamic Finance

countries, other Islamic banks were supported through the establishment of the
Organisation of Islamic Conference (OIC) in 1969.
There is also significant debate about whether the principles and institutions of
Islamic finance can be accommodated within global financial systems (Roy 1991).
According to Lewis and Hassan (2007b), Islamic financial institutions are now at a
‘crossroads’ in dealing with conventional banking that offer Islamic products while
maintaining a unique Islamic system. In addition, as Storm et al. (2007) argue, the
system faces internal conflicts between purists, who reject the engagement of
Islamic banking in conventional banking activities, and pragmatists, who support
such involvement. As Timber (2006) notes, conventional systems have tried to
create room for Islamic financial products by making minimal changes to their
procedures. In some cases, this has led to the development of dual bank systems in
which a conventional bank has an Islamic unit offering products of the Islamic
banking system. In some countries, including Malaysia and Indonesia, Islamic and
conventional systems operate side by side. Many countries favour a system in
which Islamic finance has its own institutional structures and products (Chapra
2000). These various arrangements suggest that the two systems can co-exist quite
comfortably. However, other scholars claim that the relationship on the two
financial systems is fragile. For example, Kuran (2004) argues that Islamic finance
can be a threat to the global economy, since Iran, Sudan and Pakistan have
transformed all conventional banks in these countries to Islamic banks (Saeed 1999;
Yousef and Aggarwal 2000; Lewis and Algaoud 2001; Karim et al. 2008).

Islamic Financial Institutions and Products

Modern financial products and institutions developed to accommodate the princi-

ples of Islamic finance differ significantly from those available in the conventional
financial systems (Gamal 2000). Financial institutions such as Islamic commercial
banks, rural banks, units in conventional banking, cooperatives and charitable
institutions (Akacem and Gillian 2002; Strom et al. 2007; Salem 2008) operate on
the principle of loss and profit sharing or shared risk and shared reward, and the
eschew interest (riba) in favour of a partnership between the institution and
depositors and borrowers (Weiss 1989).
Discussions of Islamic finance often refer to a suite of allowable and disal-
lowable financial products (Lock 1987; Philipp 1990; Roy 1991; Kuran 1986,
1997; Wilson 1997; Yousef and Aggarwal 2000; Venardos 2006). Allowable
products include saving without interest, short term investments, fixed returns, and
equity agreements between owners of capital and entrepreneurs based on loss and
profit sharing. Disallowable products include investment in conventional bank
savings and investment deposits, the purchase of interest yielding bonds, acquisi-
tion of shares in companies involved in dealings with forbidden products (such as
alcohol and pork), along with speculation and excessive profit (Choudhury 1983).
The Religious and Social Meanings of Islamic Finance 59

Ahmad (2000) and Venardos (2006) argue that these structures and products pro-
mote an equity-based or stake-taking economy over one based on debt.
The Islamic terms for financial products related to financing, leasing, lending and
supporting products are as follows. Musharakah is a partnership between the bank
and its customers in which both parties provide capital towards the financing of the
business. Any profits are shared in pre-agreed proportions and any losses are shared
in the proportion of capital advanced. This method is commonly used in project
financing and to fund small business and long-term trade finance. By contrast,
mudharaba is a form of trust financing where the bank contributes all of the capital
required for an enterprise and the customer is responsible for the day-to-day run-
ning and management of that enterprise. The customer receives an agreed per-
centage of the profits as a management fee and the bank receives the balance
(McMillen 2007; Saadalah 2007).
According to Wilson (1997), contemporary Islamic banks have tended to
eschew musharakah, focusing instead on short term murabahah financing, a form
of cost-plus trade financing where the bank buys a commodity or an asset based
on the customer’s needs from a third party supplier and resells the commodity or
asset to the customer either for immediate or deferred payment. Another form of
trade finance commonly used for the purchase of agricultural products is Istisna
where the bank makes an agreement with the supplier for the manufacture and
delivery of goods at a future date to the customer in which the purchase price is
specified and can be paid in instalments or deferred until the product is delivered.
Where goods are perishable another form of deferred delivery called Bei Salam is
used, in which the bank makes an advance payment to its customer for delivery
of a commodity to be traded or exchanged in measurable quantities and paid in
full at a future date.
Other Islamic financial products are designed to accommodate the day-to-day
financial needs of business, for example, ijarah, a leasing agreement where the
bank buys an asset based on the customer’s specifications and leases it to the
customer or wadiah. Under this arrangement the bank uses the deposited item for
trading or other purposes and is liable for any damage or loss but some portion of
the profit may be given to the customer and the customer can withdraw the goods
from the bank at any time. Qard hasan is a form of loan which is returned at the end
of an agreed period with consideration given to the sharing of any profit or loss
made by the business during the term of the loan. Wakalah is a form of authori-
sation on the part of the customer given to the bank so that it can conduct business
on the customer’s behalf. Havalah is a form of an agreement by the bank to take
over some of a customer’s possessions for a fee which is paid back when the
possessions are returned. Finally, sukuk involves the selling of Islamic bonds by the
bank to an investor group that then rents the bonds back to the bank for a prede-
termined rental fee. The bank also makes a contractual promise to buy back the
60 3 Islamic Finance

bonds at a future date at par value (Mirakhor and Zaidi 2007; Hakim 2007;
Saadalah 2007; McMillen 2007; Sidani 2007).4
In recent years, Islamic insurance (takaful), the dinar monetary standard and
microfinance products have also emerged as popular features of Islamic finance.
Islamic insurance defines a pack of loss and damage that may befall a customer and
the insurance companies ‘pay for a defined loss out of a defined fund’ (Venardos
2006: 81). A dinar or gold monetary standard has been suggested as a replacement
for current forms of monetary standard in order to avoid major inflation or deval-
uation of currencies, while Islamic microfinance refers to the collection of small
savings and the provision of small loans in line with Islamic financial criteria
(Seibel 2008).

Assessments of Modern Islamic Banking

Some scholars have compared the Islamic financial system favourably with the
conventional system. For example, Verhoeven et al. (2005), conclude that, despite
higher interest rate risks, Islamic financing has significantly lower credit and
liquidity risks than commercial banks because Islamic banks deal with debt gen-
erated on a profit sharing basis with the customers, rather than within the global
debt economy. In fact, as Wilson (1997) argues, Islamic markets have attracted not
only Islamic countries, but also non-Islamic investors and are able to construct
Islamic investment products with active stock markets. These processes have
encouraged investors to follow Islamic financial systems while at the same time
fundamentally dividing the globe into dual markets and thereby creating a complex
inter-market system within the existing market.
By contrast, critics of the Islamic financial system focus on its impracticality,
particularly with regard to interest-free products that offer no additional return at all
(Kuran 1995; Storm et al. 2007; Lewis and Hassan 2007a; Khan 2007). These
scholars point to the fact that the provisions of Islamic finance are still vague, as
institutions claim that no interest is charged while imposing fees. Saeed (2004: 115)
shows that there is risk in Islamic finance since the shared profit cannot be pre-
determined. Moreover, he demonstrates that interest is applied in different forms,
such as when compensating customers who are late in paying their instalments, or
by placing funds in a conventional bank and rewarding depositors (Saeed 2004:
118–120). Kuran (1995) argues that, despite these shortcomings, Islamic financial
mechanisms have succeeded in delivering services to groups with special needs,
since religious values are an important factor for some customers when engaging in

4
Sukuk practices in Islamic communities that follow the Shafi’i school, such as Malaysia and
Indonesia, are criticised on the basis that most sukuks have been turned into capital-protected and
fixed-return bonds. While this is acceptable according to Shafi’i view, it is not considered to be so
in the Maliki and Hambali views, which are the majority views in the Middle East countries (Rosly
and Sanus 1999).
The Religious and Social Meanings of Islamic Finance 61

financial activities. As Kuran also emphasises, for some, the networks created
through participatory financing in Islamic systems, where the bank and the cus-
tomers work together, constitute a reason to support Islamic finance.
Ultimately, as the arguments of both proponents and critics suggest, it is clear
that the emergence of Islamic financial institutions does not depend solely on the
nature of Islamic finance itself. Islamic finance does not exist in isolation, but rather
is embedded in a wider political economic system, articulated with other financial
institutional orders and linked to different forms of economy. A key aspect of this
development is the relationship between an Islamic financial institution and its
environment, its effectiveness, the extent to which it seeks greater innovation or
promotes new products, and how much those products become embedded within
the economic order.
At the same time, global economic processes are influenced by the development
of Islamic finance. While there are significant differences between Islamic and
conventional financial systems, they are in fact interdependent. This cross-fertil-
isation is seen to be strategically beneficial for the global economy for three rea-
sons. First, although the Islamic financial system has its own distinctive institutions
and products, which underpin its new emerging markets in the Islamic world,
Islamic finance can share profits in existing conventional markets through products
such as sukuks. Second, Islamic financial institutions have a specific and differential
impact on the ability of various economic forces to pursue particular economic
interests and strategies in Islamic communities and states. This, in turn, increases
potential economic activity in Islamic world. Third, the nature and capacities of
Islamic finance—and hence the nature and impact of economic power—depend on
the structural relations between countries in the Islamic world, and the strategic ties
among politicians and state officials that link Islamic finance to the broader goals of
economic development.

Islamic Finance in Indonesia

The principles of Islamic financial systems can be found in traditional Indonesian

financial practices. Venardos (2006: 165) argues that the traditional financial
practice, ijon—an interest-free loan used by farmers in rural areas based on a share
of crops—has been practised for centuries in Indonesia. Another traditional practice
with Islamic principles, according to Venardos, is arisan, saving circles where each
member regularly contributes a certain sum and, in turn, obtains an interest-free
loan from the pool by drawing lots. (The Islamic credentials of ijon and arisan are
questionable, however, as the practices have been found in non-Islamic commu-
nities as well.) Other scholars have claimed that the first Islamic financial institution
emerged along with the establishment of the Islamic Traders’ Association (Sarekat
Dagang Islam, SDI) in 1911 as part of an attempt to compete with ethnic Chinese
traders (Lubis 2004). Much more recently, Islamic cooperatives, such as the
Teknosa Cooperative in Bandung and the Ridho Gusti Cooperative in Jakarta, were
62 3 Islamic Finance

established in the 1980s (Hefner 1996)5 while another Islamic organisation, Nah-
dlatul Ulama, established a joint venture with the owner of the Bank Summa in
1990 to trial products that conformed to Islamic law (Saeed 1999).6
Indonesia formally established its Islamic banking system rather later than some
other South East Asian countries, notably the Philippines, with its Philippine
Amanah Bank, established in 1973 (Ariff 1988), and Malaysia, with Bank Islam
Malaysia Berhad, which opened in 1983 (Billah 2007).7 Bank Muamalat Indonesia
(BMI), the first private Islamic bank in Indonesia, began operating in 1992,
endorsed by the Indonesian Council of Ulamas (Majelis Ulama Indonesia, MUI),
the Indonesian Association of Muslim Intellectuals (Ikatan Cendekiawan Muslim
Indonesia, ICMI) and the New Order government, with initial capital raised per-
sonally by President Suharto, his foundation, Yayasan Amal Bhakti Muslim Pan-
casila and a number of wealthy entrepreneurs (Hefner 1996). This flurry of activity
represented a significant shift from his position in the 1980s, when he refused a
request to allow the establishment of Islamic banking in Indonesia (Hefner 1996;
Lubis 2004).
The legal mechanism underpinning the change was Law No. 7/1992 on Banking,
which allowed Islamic banking operations, supplemented by Government Decree
No. 72/1992 on the Banking Act, which allowed the Banks to apply share base
principles and included provisions that provided the opportunity to develop interest-
free banks. Several years later, the passing of Law No. 10/1998 on the Banking Act,
permitted the establishment of dual system banks, whereby a conventional banks
could open Islamic banking units without necessarily becoming wholly Islamic.
Under the 1998 Banking Act, an Islamic bank is described as a commercial bank
without interest, contractual ambiguity, speculation or other functions prohibited by
Islam (Juoro 2008). One year later, the Reserve Bank of Indonesia was given the
power to conduct monetary control of Islamic financial activities through the
amendment of Law No. 23/1999 on the Reserve Bank of Indonesia. A Syari’a
Bureau was subsequently established in the Reserve Bank.
Since that time, two new Islamic banks have been established, namely the state-
owned Bank Syariah Mandiri in 1999 and the private Bank Syariah Mega Mandiri
in 2004. By 2004, BMI had total assets of IDR5.2 trillion, which in 2008 had
reached IDR13 trillion. In addition, as of early 2009 there were 133 Islamic rural
banks throughout the country (BI, Islamic Banking Statistics February 2009). The
assets of these rural banks were equivalent to 4 % of conventional rural banks in
2007 (Juoro 2008). This growth of interest in Islamic finance has also prompted
more conventional banks to open Islamic business units. The first conventional
bank to do establish a Syari’a unit was the Bank of Indonesia Finance and

5
Antonio (2008) claims that the first Islamic microfinance initiative, BMT, was established in
1992.
6
Before this, Nadhlatul Ulama had established three conventional banks in the 1950s and 1960s
(Lubis 2004: 107).
7
This was so at least in part because some military officials and liberal technocrats feared that
Islamic finance would split the country along ethnic lines (Hefner 1996).
Islamic Finance in Indonesia 63

Investment Company (IFI) in 1999,8 followed by the Bank Negara Indonesia (BNI)
and Bank Jabar in 2000 (BI 2003). In September 2008, there were 28 conventional
banks—including HSBC—operating Islamic units in Indonesia (BI 2009). In total,
Islamic financial institutions employ around 12,000 workers in 581 Islamic banking
offices, 241 Islamic business units and 202 Islamic rural banks throughout the
country (BI 2009). The endorsement of Islamic finance again strengthened during
the 2008 global financial crisis, when bond sales of Indonesian conventional banks
decreased dramatically and Islamic bonds reached a total value of IDR5.56 trillion
(BI Banking Statistics March 2009) or US$650 million in assets (Jakarta Post 17
April 2009). The release of the bonds, which were not included in the initial draft of
the 2008 banking law, was an initiative of the Reserve Bank, introduced in early
2009. In 2011, there were eleven Islamic banks, twenty-three Islamic units in
conventional banks and one hundred and fifty four Islamic rural banks in Indonesia
(BI Islamic Banking Statistics October 2011).
Despite this dramatic increase in assets, however, Islamic banking still plays
minor role in the Indonesian economy. Some predicted that the assets of Islamic
financial institutions in Indonesia would be 5 % of national economic activities in
2008; however, figures from the Indonesian Central Bank at that time showed that
total assets were just over 2 % of Indonesian total activity (BI Islamic Banking
Statistics January 2009). In 2011, the assets of Islamic financial institutions
accounted for less than 4 % of national economic activity (BI Islamic Banking
Statistics October 2011).

Hiccups in the System

There have been a number of hiccups in the formalisation of Islamic financial

systems in Indonesia. Although the 1998 law classified Islamic banks and Islamic
units in conventional banks as part of the Islamic banking industry, it ignored the
existence of Islamic rural banks and cooperatives. Another major issue arose in
2004, when MUI issued a decree prohibiting interest. There was concern that the
decree, which urged Muslims to use Islamic banks, would prompt a rush on con-
ventional banks in Indonesia (Ika and Widgado 2008). Other critics observed that
the decree created a conflict of interest, since the members of MUI are also
members of a board of commissioners in Islamic banks. Although a rush on con-
ventional banks did not eventuate, the assets of the Islamic banks doubled within a
year of the decree.
In response to the 65 % growth in the assets of Islamic banking between 2003
and 2005, the law on Islamic banking was again amended in 2008 to cover more
kinds of Islamic financial activities in the country. Under Law No. 21/2008 on

8
The bank was liquidated by the government in 2009 because its capital ratio was below 8 % and
its non-performing loans had reached 24 %.
64 3 Islamic Finance

Islamic Banking, Islamic rural banks were included as part of the Islamic banking
industry. However, the law did not include other types of Islamic finance, such as
Baitul Mal waTanwil (BMT) and Islamic insurance (takaful). BMTs are organi-
sations established by individuals or groups (Juoro 2008; Sakai 2008) or sponsored
by regional governments to provide micro-finance as a strategy to reduce poverty,
especially in villages and traditional markets.9 During and after the 1997 economic
crisis, this type of Islamic financial mechanism played an important role in Indo-
nesia’s economic recovery (Lubis 2004). Their omission from the law has meant
that around 3,200 BMTs and 38 Takaful in Indonesia are not supervised by Bank
Indonesia (Sakai 2008: 267). Instead, BMTs are regulated under the Cooperatives
Law managed by the Ministry of Cooperatives and Small and Medium Enterprises
while Takaful are regulated by the Ministry of Finance. This is problematic since,
as Seibel (2008) argues, the lack of supervision from the Bank of Indonesia means
that BMT customers risk losing their savings, if BMTs fail to continue their
operations. In addition, BMTs are free to charge customers a fee higher than the
interest rates charged by conventional banks (Sakai 2008). Seibel (2008) asserts that
in order to avoid such problems, the collection of small amounts of savings and the
provision of small loans currently associated with Islamic microfinance in Indonesia
should be developed into products that can be offered by Islamic banks, Islamic
units in commercial banks or Islamic rural banks.
In the lead up to the passing of the 2008 law, there was considerable debate
about the implications of the law for the dual judicial system in the country. The
draft law had allowed disputes in the Islamic financial system to be handled by the
general courts, a provision that Muslim judges disputed, arguing that they should be
solved in Islamic courts as suggested by Law No. 3/2006, an amendment of Law
No. 7/1989 on Islamic courts, or Peradilan Agama. The debate was resolved by
omitting the provision in the Islamic banking law that allowed general courts to deal
with Islamic financial disputes (2008 Islamic Banking Act No. 21 Chap. 55 Para-
graph 1). The new law also paved the way for the creation of an Islamic banking
committee consisting of members of the Reserve Bank, the Department of Reli-
gious Affairs and MUI to cement the Reserve Bank’s role within the system. Before
that time, Islamic banking activities in Indonesia were supervised by a committee
called the National Syari’a Council, which was created by MUI in 2000 with
funding from the Ministry of Finance, the Reserve Bank and the community. The
2008 law also gave MUI a formal role in recommending candidates for the selection
of members of the Syari’a Supervisory Board in each Islamic bank or conventional
bank with Islamic units.

9
BMI offered takaful early on, inspired by the success of the insurance arm of Malaysian Islamic
Banking. The Malaysian company Syarikat Takaful Malaysia, Bhd is a major shareholder in one of
Indonesia’s major takaful companies, PT Syarikat Takaful Indonesia (Annual Report Takaful
Indonesia 2005). Sakai (2008) argues that the creation of BMTs was a result of BMI’s inability to
deal with financially disadvantaged Muslims.
Islamic Finance in Indonesia 65

Islamic Banking Products Offered in Indonesia

The financial products of Islamic banks in Indonesia are largely similar to the
products of the banks in other Islamic countries, although some critics say that the
Islamic finance products offered in Indonesia and other Asian countries are not
Islamic, as a result of different interpretations of Islam between different regions
(Islamic Finance News 2009). For example, like conventional banks, Islamic units
in conventional banks require collateral (agunan) for loans—a practice not found in
their Middle Eastern counterparts.
There is variation in the way Indonesian Islamic banks operate, but in general
they offer shared returns in the application of profit and loss at an agreed ratio of
50:50 or 60:40 between the bank and the depositor depending on the deposit period
chosen (Juoro 2008). The most popular mudharabah deposit in 2008 was the one-
month deposit (BI Islamic Banking Statistics January 2009). Whereas in financing
sector, Murabahah, where the Islamic banks buys a commodity or an asset at the
customer’s request from a third party supplier and then resells the commodity or
asset to the user either for immediate or deferred payment accounted for almost
60 % of the total financing in December 2008 (BI Islamic Banking Statistics
January 2009).
BMI offers products for two types of customers. For creditors, the bank offers
savings, investment, giro, term deposits and pension fund arrangements. Ummat
Saving, Ummat Junior Saving for students and Haji Arafah savings for people
intending to undertake the hajj are interest-free saving products, while Shar-E and
Wadiah clearing are offered for profit-sharing investment and giro investment, as
well as short and long term deposits in the form of Mudharabah and Fulinves. In
this latter service, the bank invests the depositor’s money in a system of profit
sharing. The bank also offers a pension fund. For debtors, BMI offers financing
facilities such as Murabahah Credit, where the bank buys goods or products
required by a customer, such as a vehicle, and the customer pays for the purchase in
instalments. Musyarakah financing offers customers the opportunity to enter into a
partnership with the bank in a business. Finally BMI offers an Islamic pawn service,
where the bank pays cash up to a maximum 90 % of the value of a customer’s
collateral such as jewellery or a vehicle, which is returned after the customer repays
the fee (Muamalat Bank 2009).
Similarly, Bank Syariah Mandiri (BSM), the Islamic banking unit of Bank
Mandiri, offers funding and financing facilities to its customers. It offers saving
accounts, including a monthly saver account, where a certain amount of the cus-
tomer’s money is automatically transferred to the account each month. Education
financing plans are designated accounts for saving for the current and future costs of
education. Haj candidates and pensioners are also offered special accounts. In terms
of financing, BSM buys products such as medical equipment, government subsi-
dised housing, and motor vehicles for customers, who pay for the purchase in
instalments. Like many Indonesian banks, BSM provides incentives such as a
priority service lounge and check-in counter in airports in several Indonesian cities
66 3 Islamic Finance

for customers who hold deposits of a minimum of two hundred and fifty million
Indonesian rupiah (BSM 2011).
A third key player is Bank Negara Indonesia Syariah (BNI Syariah), which, like
BSM, is an Islamic banking unit within a major conventional bank. BNI Syariah
offers funding in special accounts for individuals, haj candidates, and investors. In
terms of financing, BNI Syariah uses collateral arrangements to ensure that its
investments are viable, while customers pay the bank in installments. For example,
the bank purchases a motor vehicle and uses the purchased vehicle or, alternatively,
some other form of fixed asset, income or the balance of the customer’s account, as
collateral (BNI 2011).
BMI, BSM and BNI Syariah differ in some of the products they offer but also in
the operational fees they charge on the general accounts for individuals and other
general fees. As of January 2012, BMI was charging its customers a monthly fee of
IDR7,500; BSM charged IDR5,000 and BNI Syariah charged IDR11,000. While
BMI does not charge its customers for cancelling their accounts, BSM charges
IDR20,000 and BNI Syariah charges IDR10,000 (BSM 2011). Islamic banks’
administrative charges are lower than those of conventional banks. For example,
Bank Mandiri charges their conventional customers IDR4,000 more per month in
administration fees and IDR30,000 more in cancellation fees than BSM (BM 2011).
However, the difference in charges between Islamic banks shows the flexibility that
they have in determining what constitutes an Islamic bank in everyday financial
activities.
Other Islamic units in conventional banks such the Syariah Business Unit of the
Hong Kong and Shanghai Banking Corporation Limited (HSBC Amanah) offer
Islamic bonds (sukuk). Sukuks originate with the Reserve Bank of Indonesia (BI)
only. From 2004 to 2008, the Bank of Indonesia sold Islamic bonds (Sertifikat
Wadiah Bank Indonesia, SWBI) with a nominal unit of IDR1,000,000. However,
these bonds did not attract Islamic bankers since the return on them was far lower
than conventional bonds (Sertifikat Bank Indonesia, SBI). In 2008, the Bank of
Indonesia released a new form of Islamic bonds (Sertifikat Bank Indonesia Syariah,
SBIS). SBIS could not be sold on the secondary market, and required Islamic banks
to have a minimum Financing to Deposit Ratio (FDR) of 80 % before they were
permitted to buy the product. Even so, SBIS proved to be a successful product
because of its high return, and bonds having a total worth of IDR1.8 trillion were in
circulation in August 2011 (Investor Daily Indonesia 2011). To increase profit-
ability, the Bank of Indonesia subsequently replaced SBIS with a new type of
Islamic bonds (Surat Berharga Negara Syariah, SBSN) which could be sold in
secondary markets.
In December 2008, the assets of Islamic financial institutions in Indonesia had
tripled from their 2004 level (BI Islamic Banking Statistics January 2009). At this
time, more than half the assets of Indonesian Islamic finance came from the mu-
dharaba time deposits, while a third were from Mudharaba saving deposits (BI
Islamic Banking Statistics January 2009). Additionally, Juoro (2008: 230) shows
that the loan to deposit ratio in Islamic banks is 103 % higher than it is in con-
ventional banks (63.2 %). The level of non-performing loans in Islamic banking is
Islamic Finance in Indonesia 67

also higher than in the conventional system (Juoro 2008: 230). Assets in the Islamic
financial system increase 25–36 % every year and in the first three months of 2009
total assets were valued at IDR53.43 trillion, representing 2.22 % of total national
economic activity (BI Triwulan I 2009). Assets of Islamic banking and Islamic units
in conventional banking grew 36 % from 2008 to a total of IDR51.68 trillion, while
assets of Islamic rural banks were increasing 42 % per year, reaching IDR1.75
trillion in early 2009 (BI Triwulan I 2009).

Islamic Finance in West Sumatra

There is little historical evidence of the existence of Islamic financial structures in

West Sumatra. The principles of Islamic economics were probably first adopted in
an institutional sense by the Enterprise Associaton (Sarekat Usaha, SU), established
in 1914 by Islamic modernists with the support of trading groups in Padang and by
the local branch of the Islamic Association (Sarikat Islam, SI, formerly Sarekat
Dagang Islam), set up in 1916 by pedlars and farmers in Padang in as a way of
competing against ethnic Chinese merchants (Abdullah 1972: 228). The West
Sumatran chapter of Muhammadiyah then established its social welfare department,
called the Hardship Relief Agency (Penolong Kesengsaraan Umum, PKU) in 1927
(Abdullah 1971: 78).
The idea of Islamic finance, as an element of an ekonomi sharia (Islamic eco-
nomic system) has been an important element in debates about the nature of
regional economy in the post-Suharto era. Ekonomi Syaria has become such an
important concept that any new program or idea must in some way or another be
shown to contribute to it. Government officials invoke this concept as the moti-
vation, and justification, for their economic programs, which they claim support the
needs of the majority of the population. As the discussion that follows demon-
strates, they have also increasingly relied on the structures of Islamic finance to
demonstrate their credentials to, and facilitate dealings with, rich Islamic countries
in the hope of attracting alternative forms of investment to the region.

The Public Discourse of Islamic Finance

A set of key terms emerged in discussions around Islamic finance, including tanpa
bunga (no interest), sektor riil (the ‘real’ economy), bagi hasil (profit sharing), and
underpinning all the other terms, Ekonomi Syaria. In addition to the requirement
that a financial system should operate on shared profit rather than interest, Ekonomi
Syaria implies the existence of a set of economic relations in which the rich finance
and fund activities to help the poor, and the people are motivated by a general ethos
of solidarity. The term corresponds to notions of a moral obligation in economic
dealings, but it has been reworked by the local elites to become a cultural-
68 3 Islamic Finance

ideological instrument for expanding networks in local politics and developing

economic relations with Islamic countries. For Romeo Rissal Pandjialam, the head
of the regional office of the Bank of Indonesia in Padang, Islamic finance is just one
part of a total Islamic economic system which, if implemented more fully, would
transfer the possession of big business resources from a few big entrepreneurs to
hundreds of people:
If just a small proportion of entrepreneurs control economic resources, society cannot really
progress. The purchasing power of the community will not increase. I always give the
example of what we did in Mandailing Natal [in North Sumatra]. In the past, palm plan-
tations were controlled by a few big business persons. But now, more than five thousand
family heads each own two or three hectares of palm. Why isn’t that the case in West
Sumatra? Because we stand by and do not help our community (Interview, Padang, 19
November 2010).

In West Sumatran public discourse, the concept of the Islamic economy is linked
to the cultural identity of the Minangkabau people. Public statements about the
Islamic economy take its association with regional identity for granted, invoking the
Minang philosophy that culture is built on Syari’a and Syari’a is based on the Qur’an
(Adat Basandi Syarak Syarak Basandi Kitabullah). As Fauzi Bahar, the Mayor of
Padang, expressed it:
With the philosophy of the Minangkabau people, that ‘Adat Basandi Syarak, Syarak Ba-
sandi Kitabullah’, it makes sense that the concept of Islamic economics is an important tool
for Muslims seeking to develop their economy (Padang Today 7 February 2010).

Although Islamic finance institutions are relatively new to the province, local
power-holders are anxious to demonstrate that the Minangkabau people have a long
commitment to the principles of the Islamic economy. According to the Vice
Governor of West Sumatra, Muslim Kasim, they are reflected in long-standing
profit sharing practices:
Islamic economics has existed in Padang Pariaman for a long time. West Sumatra can be a
pioneer in the application of Islamic economics. In fact, at the philosophical and ideological
level, we have been practising Islamic economics from the very beginning—long before the
establishment of the first Islamic bank in Indonesia. Islamic economics is not a foreign
concept in West Sumatra. It underpins [profit sharing arrangements] such as paduoan sapi
[cattle raising] and paroan sawah [rice cultivation]. Islamic economics can be implemented
in West Sumatra because the region has the philosophy that ‘Adat basandi Syarak, Syarak
basandi Kitabullah’ (Padang Today 27 September 2009).

Drawing a parallel between these traditional forms of Islamic economic practice

and their modern counterparts, Muslim Kasim exhorted the population of West
Sumatra to position the province as a pioneer (pelopor) of Islamic economics in
Indonesia.
The connection between the Islamic economy and the Minangkabau people’s
assertions of their Muslim cultural heritage is invoked in a number of different
ways: as evidence of the religiosity of the province, as evidence of the desirability
of the Islamic economic system, and as a way of urging West Sumatrans to embrace
practices associated with the Islamic economy. An example of the former is a
Islamic Finance in West Sumatra 69

statement by Devvyzal, the head of the Nagari Islamic Bank, who made the fol-
lowing observation: ‘the fact that Minangpeople are 99 % Muslim has allowed
concept of the Islamic economy to grow’ (Posmetro Padang 17 January 2009).
An example of the way cultural heritage is invoked in support of the Islamic
economy occurs in a statement by Gamawan Fauzi, the Governor of West Sumatra,
emphasising the desirability of an Islamic economy and the logic of its adoption in
the province: The growth in Islamic banking in West Sumatra should be higher than
in other regions of Indonesia because of the community’s philosophy that ‘Adat
Basandi Syarak, Syarak Basandi Kitabullah’ (Padang Ekspres 20 March 2009).
In an example of the appeal to West Sumatrans to embrace practices associated
with the Islamic economy, Romeo Rissal Pandjialam, the head of the regional office
of the Bank of Indonesia in Padang, made the following comment: It is deeply
ironic that West Sumatra, with [its philosophy of] ‘Adat Basandi Syarak Syarak
Basandi Kitabullah’ is not supported by an Islamic economic system (Padang
Today 7 February 2010).
The second major reason invoked in explanations of the benefits of an Islamic
economic system is the stability it offers in times of trouble. In Romeo’s words,
‘Conventional economic systems look very strong from the outside. However,
when the wind blows or problems arise, they are very susceptible to destruction’
(Padang Today 7 February 2010). Or as Fauzi Bahar, the Mayor of the Padang, puts
it, ‘an Islamic economic system is very effective, safe and reassuring’ (Padang
Today 7 February 2010). Some commentators even go as far as suggesting that
Islamic economics is the answer to the world’s financial woes. In the words of
Muhammad Ali, one of the Directors General at the Ministry of Religion, ‘the
concept of the Islamic economy offers a solution for improving the world economy,
which is currently facing a global crisis’ (Posmetro Padang 28 March 2009).
According to Muslim Kasim, this fact has already been recognised:
Islamic economic systems have been adopted by many outsiders. Regions with non-Muslim
majorities like Bali have applied the principles of Islamic economics. Now many Western
countries have also developed Islamic economic systems. Almost 70 % of countries in
Europe and America have them (Padang Today 27 September 2009).

Public figures also use their public statements to elaborate on how such an
economy would benefit the people of West Sumatra. The institutions most often
referred to are Islamic financial institutions, such as Islamic banks and Islamic units
in conventional banks, the Islamic micro financial institution, BMT, and less
commonly takaful. Other institutions linked to the trope of the Islamic economy in
public discourse are zakat (the subject of the next chapter) and Islamic production
systems. The reason most often cited for the stability of Islamic economic systems
is that they focus on the ‘real economy’ (sektor riil), avoiding speculation and high
risk financial transactions. As Faisal Rivai, the head of the National Islamic
Economics Society puts it, ‘the benefits of Islamic economics start from the “real”
sector, especially from micro, small and medium enterprises’ (Padang Today 7
February 2010).
70 3 Islamic Finance

It is this aspect that local power-holders emphasise when claiming that fuller
adoption of an Islamic economic system would enhance regional development.
According to Firdaus K., Secretary of the Provincial Government of West Sumatra,
‘Islamic economics is strategic for regional economic development’ (Posmetro
Padang 28 March 2009). Romeo Rissal Pandjialam, the head of the regional office
of the Bank of Indonesia, agreed with this assessment:
Islamic economics is very important for regional development, and especially for the
recovery of the regional economy after the [2009] earthquake. Islamic economics offers a
very important opportunity at this time (Posmetro Padang 26 November 2009).

On a separate occasion, he took the opportunity to provide a concrete example of

the benefits of Islamic economic practice in West Sumatra, using it to illustrate one
of the key underlying principles of Islamic economic exchange, namely the fair
distribution of profit:
I am really impressed that there is a tea company near Mount Kerinci that has fully adopted
the principles of Islamic economics. When export prices for tea rise, they automatically
increase the price they pay to tea farmers, even though they could just make a bigger profit.
I asked why they do that, and they answered, ‘Society also contributes to the growth of this
company.’ Therefore, profits must be shared. This is the real concept of Islamic economics
(Padang Ekspres 29 April 2010).

A key part of the strategy of adopting elements of an Islamic economy in order

to promote regional development is its role in increasing opportunities for economic
cooperation with Islamic countries. As Marwan Zein, a journalist now living in
Jakarta, observed, there is a significant market for consumer goods in the Middle
East, a market in which Muslim providers could have an advantage:
Islamically-certified products can be exported to Middle Eastern countries … The Gulf
countries are a market. In Saudi Arabia, there are quality prayer mats made in China
[English in the original]. I also saw packaged dates from America competing with dates
from Iraq, Egypt and from Saudi Arabia itself (Singgalang 18 September 2008).

According to some, being seen to be more Islamic would also be beneficial in the
promotion of West Sumatra as a tourist destination. In a particularly telling example
of this, Romeo described his attempts to encourage Muslim tourists to visit the
province:
When I talked to Middle Eastern tourists in Malaysia and asked them why they did not
come to West Sumatra as well, given the beauty of the region. the answer they gave me was
really depressing. ‘It is a secular region’, said one of the tourists, whose great-grandfather
was from Magek in the district of Agam (Padang Ekspres 14 May 2010).

Perhaps more importantly, Islamic economics is seen as a means of attracting

investment. Mahyeldi Ansharullah, the Deputy of the Provincial Parliament in
Padang and member of the Prosperous Justice Party (Partai Keadilan Sejahtera,
PKS) cited Hidayat Nurwahid, the national Head of PKS when commenting on
Middle Eastern investment in a local newspaper:
Islamic Finance in West Sumatra 71

It is time for Indonesia to attract investment from Middle Eastern countries that are ben-
efiting financially from the financial crisis in America. There is a lot of money in the Middle
East. The financial crisis in United States of America has also affected Europe, so Indonesia
has a real opportunity to attract Middle Eastern funds (Singgalang 20 October 2008).

Syafrudin Karimi, a lecturer at Universitas Andalas, goes one step further,

arguing that cross-border collaboration, especially with neighbouring Malaysia,
could serve as a tool in the development of West Sumatra’s Islamic economy:
The development of an Islamic economic system can be accomplished by establishing
cooperative arrangements with number of the Middle Eastern countries and with Malaysia,
which has long embraced the concept of Islamic law (Postmetro Padang 28 March 2009).

A final, closely-related theme in public statements about the Islamic economy

pertains to the success of current initiatives and their benefits for the people of West
Sumatra. The words ‘promising’ (menjanjikan), ‘increasing’ (meningkat) and
‘encouraging’ (menggembirakan) are most often used to describe these develop-
ments. Firdaus K., for example, noted that:
The development of Islamic economics in the region is quite encouraging. This develop-
ment is evident in the number of conventional banks that have opened Islamic units
(Posmetro Padang 28 March 2009).

According to Nelly Sumarni, the regional head of the Association of Indonesian

Islamic Banks, ‘the rapid expansion in Islamic banking is evidence that Islamic
banks are promising financial institutions’ (Padang Ekspres 27 February 2010).
Several months later, Romeo noted that:
The Islamic unit of BRI has increased its assets dramatically within the last 10 months …
because it truly reaches the ‘little people’. The Islamic bank operates on the belief that
Minang people are people who embrace Islamic law … Until now conventional banks in
West Sumatra have focused on medium and big business (Padang Ekspres 30 July 2010).10

He went on to observe that:

Many small and medium enterprises suffer because they do not have capital. When they
come to conventional banks, they are considered ‘non-bankable’ because they don’t meet
the requirements for getting a loan … The small number that do get loans are charged
inordinately high interest rates (bunganya selangit) (Padang Ekspres 30 July 2010).

Like Romeo, many other public figures have emphasised the benefits of Islamic
financial institutions for people at all levels of society. According to Fauzi Bahar,
the Mayor of Padang:

10
West Sumatran papers also report statements about the positive impact of Islamic banking in
other regions. For example, Singgalang cited Bambang W Budiawan, one of the supervisors in the
Surabaya Regional Bank of Indonesia as having said that the assets of Islamic banks were
increasing, and could reach 55 % in 2011. He suggested that Islamic banks would need substantial
numbers of new employees as a result of their growth, noting that an estimated 9,000 new
employees would be required by Islamic banks by 2014 (Singgalang 6 December 2010).
72 3 Islamic Finance

The problem faced by small business groups has been that it has been difficult for them to
get loans. As a result, they are forced to go to moneylenders. If there is a local Islamic
financial institution, small business groups benefit greatly (Padang Ekspres 7 May 2010).

Two years earlier, Ahmad Wira, a lecturer in the Padang State Institute for
Islamic Studies had explained that the hope was that the establishment of Islamic
micro-finance institutions would ‘spearhead the distribution of regional government
funds and other forms of assistance, so that community members who require
assistance and funds for their businesses can be reached and empowered’ (Padang
Today 17 December 2008). Around the same time, Mardius Asmaan, the head of
the Minangkabau Adat Consultative Body, (Lembaga Kerapatan Adat Alam Min-
angkabau, LKAAM) in the district of Agam, suggested that ‘the presence of Islamic
micro-finance institutions has really been felt by the poor families that have
accessed micro credit from BMT (Singgalang 31 December 2008).

Local Government Policy on Islamic Finance

Regional governments have not passed any regulations on Islamic finance in West
Sumatra. But they have promoted the up-take of opportunities created under the
national level changes. The first modern Islamic financial institutions to emerge in
West Sumatra were the Islamic Rural Bank (BPRS) and BMT Takwa in 1997 (Tim
Peneliti Unand and BI 2001). The first Islamic bank established was the Bank
Syariah Mandiri in Padang in 2002. The number of Islamic banks subsequently
increased significantly after the passing of the 2008 national Islamic Banking Act
and, as of 2010, there were eight Islamic banks in the region, namely BNI Syariah,
Bank Danamon Indonesian Syariah, Bank Muamalat Indonesia Syariah, BRI
Syariah, Bank Bukopin Syariah, Bank Syariah Mandiri and Bank Mega. With total
assets of IDR1.6 trillion in 2010, these banks had the equivalent of 5.6 % of the
total regional assets of conventional banks, the highest contribution of Islamic
banks in any province in Indonesia (Romeo Rissal Pandjialam, Interview, 19
November 2010). In the same year, the assets of Islamic rural banks totalled IDR1.1
trillion, or 3.9 % of total assets of regional conventional rural banks in 2010 (BI
Padang, Data Triwulan III 2010).
The provincial government has capitalised on these broader trends in the growth
of Islamic finance by establishing Islamic units in the regional government-owned
Nagari Bank in 2006 and subsequently an independent Islamic banking unit in
2008. Some local governments have shown their support for the Islamic banking
system by depositing government funds in Islamic accounts. For example, in 2009,
Gamawan Fauzi, then Governor of West Sumatra (and now the Minister of Internal
Affairs) transferred funds amounting to IDR3 trillion to the Islamic Nagari Bank for
the establishment of a regional government mosque in Padang (Padang Ekspres 5
March 2009).
Islamic Finance in West Sumatra 73

The practice of requiring collateral (agunan) for loans, which is also found in
non-governmental Islamic banks, is criticised by Islamic groups because it effec-
tively excludes poorer Muslims from the system because they have no collateral to
offer (Interview with Amir Syarifuddin, Islamic leader, 12 September 2008).
Similarly, according to Sudarman Yonidarma Dt. Rangkayo Basa, the head of the
Semen Padang Hospital Society, fixed return or fixed margin arrangements are
simply substitutes for interest in conventional banking, and many Islamic bank
products are simply conventional products with Arabic names (Singgalang 19
December 2010). Even Romeo acknowledges that the directors of many Islamic
banks are still more concerned with growing their customer base than with sup-
porting their customers’ business activities (Interview, Padang, 19 November
2010).
Outside the formal banking system, regional governments have sponsored the
expansion of Islamic micro-finance in the region through the development of
BMTs, the assets of which were worth IDR16 billion in 2008 (Singgalang 5
February 2009). In the district of Agam, for example, 18 of Agam Madani’s 41
BMTs were initially subsidised by the provincial government, while a further 23
were initially subsidised by the district government itself, with each BMT being
provided with initial capital of IDR300 million. In collaboration with the Ministry
of Welfare, the BMTs provide loans for the construction and renovation of housing,
infrastructure construction and training. As well as accepting savings, the BMTs
provide loans for small groups in the production of palm sugar, livestock, and for
small businesses such as barber shops (Setkab 2009).
Islamic banks enabled the regional government to deliver funds to a large
number of people in support of their small business activities (Usaha Kecil Men-
engah, UKM). However, according to Romeo Rissal Pandjialam, the head of the
Regional Office of the Reserve Bank of Indonesia, the Islamic units in the con-
ventional Bank Nagari and Bank Nagari Syariah were opened to attract foreign
Muslim entrepreneurs (Interview, 19 November 2010). According to Romeo, the
reason why so few foreign Islamic entrepreneurs were doing business in West
Sumatra was that the region lacked an integrated Islamic financial system. Islamic
entrepreneurs from Islamic countries were reluctant to invest through non-Islamic
systems even if they believed that their companies would profit from doing so. They
preferred to go to Malaysia, which is seen as an Islamic alternative to secular
Indonesia. Therefore, regional governments must develop mechanisms to encour-
age Islamic financial systems without necessarily annulling conventional banks, to
attract investors from Islamic countries into the region. Moreover, the establishment
of Islamic financial systems attracts students and tourists from Islamic countries,
making them feel comfortable in the region. Mahyeldi Ansharullah, the Vice Mayor
of Padang, told me that students and tourists from Malaysia are very keen to use
Islamic financial systems in the region (Interview, Padang, 8 September 2008).
Romeo also believes that Islamic banking facilities are necessary to attract tourists
from Islamic countries (Interview, Padang, 19 November 2010).
The Islamic financial system was given a significant boost with the Global
Financial Crisis of 2008. Although the 1997 Asian Financial Crisis hit Indonesia
74 3 Islamic Finance

hard, it did not affect the global financial markets. As a result, agricultural exports
played an important part in Indonesia’s economic recovery, and farmers benefited
from the high prices their exports attracted in the global market. The 2008 crisis was
quite different. In recent years, agricultural industries in the region have become
exposed to Western export markets, and have consequently suffered from the
Global Financial Crisis. Oil palm cultivation constitutes a significant proportion of
agro-industry. Cultivators were forced to sell their harvests at low prices.11 As a
result, oil palm companies were not able to pay wages and their workers were not
able to find other work. Concerned with the stability of conventional systems,
government officials turned their attention to Middle East countries (Mahyeldi
Ansharullah, interview, 8 September 2008).
The campaign to attract Islamic investment picked up pace in 2009, when Fauzi
Bahar, the Mayor of Padang, and other local politicians made trade visits to Islamic
countries such as Saudi Arabia, Dubai and Malaysia. Fauzi travelled to Dubai, and
arranged for representatives of Dubai World Investment to visit West Sumatra in
April 2009. That visit was expected to attract investment of around US$300 million
for several regional projects, including the construction of facilities at the tourist
destinations of Gunung Padang, Pantai Air Manis and Bung Hatta Botanical Gar-
dens, and for the infrastructure at Taluk Bayur Port, and Bingkuang Bus Terminal
of Bingkuang (Antara-Sumbar 15 and 16 April 2009).12 In addition, regional
representatives attended the 5th World Islamic Economic Forum in Jakarta, where
they presented their regional banking program to investors from Islamic countries.
The delegation succeeded in attracting a number of projects organised by the
Malaysia-based Forum, including a market for gambier and organic farm products,
a project for organic rubbish management in agriculture, and finance for the
development of the Mandeh Tourism Resort, the Twin Lakes and Cable Car Track
in Maninjau, and the Bukit Tinggi Syariah Bank (WIEF Indonesia 2009). In 2011,
the Mayor of Padang, Fauzi Bahar, embarked on another attempt to cement eco-
nomic relations with investors from Dubai when he and the director of the Mineral
Energy Commodities (MEC) Holding Company from Dubai discussed the devel-
opment of a new port at Bungus (Media Centre of Regional Office of the Ministry
of Information and Technology, 10 December 2011).
The presence of Islamic finance shapes international investment practices in
many ways. West Sumatra’s close proximity to Malaysia in particular has given rise
to the development of Islamic economic relationships between two governments.
With decentralisation, this relationship has been extended beyond individual official
encounters to government to government agreements on local development pro-
jects. The Mayor of Padang Pariaman, Mukhlis Rahman, for example, signed off on
contracts for the development of regional tourist destinations with Worldwide Far
East BHD Malaysia in December 2011, including a marine tourism project at Pauh

11
West Sumatra had more than 380,000 hectares under oil palm in 2008. During the Global
Financial Crisis, the price of fresh fruit bunches dropped from IDR1,900 to IDR600.
12
These projects were cancelled at the end of 2009 because of Dubai Debt Crisis.
Islamic Finance in West Sumatra 75

Beach, cultural tourism at Gandoriah Beach, a family tourism venture at Cermin

Beach and a nature tourism venture at Kata Beach (InfoPublik Sumbar 2011) to
which Islamic identity was a key element in achieving these agreements.

Conclusion

The chapter has analysed the interplay between national socio-political and eco-
nomic imperatives, the geopolitics of the Islamic world and transnational structures
of Islamic finance in the development of Islamic finance in Indonesia, and the ways
in which the national system has filtered down to the regional level and been
incorporated into political discourse about what it means to be an appropriately
Islamic society. It has shown how the development of regulations pertaining to
Islamic finance in Indonesia was influenced by the development of modern Islamic
banking systems in other countries and the impact of regional and global financial
crises on the conventional banking system.
The chapter has documented the rapid increase in the global penetration of
Islamic financial institutions after the oil shocks of the 1970s, as new-found wealth
in parts of the Arab world facilitated the spread of Arabian financial practices
throughout the Muslim world. It has also analysed how these practices have been
interpreted and localised in Indonesia to accommodate local norms. In analysing
their function in West Sumatra, it has demonstrated that, while regional govern-
ments have used Islamic financial practices in part as a tool to transfer resources
from big business to local communities, they have increasingly relied on the
structures of Islamic finance to demonstrate their credentials to, and facilitate
dealings with, rich Islamic countries in the hope of attracting alternative forms of
investment and Muslim tourists and students to the region.
In the chapter that follows, the coexistence of local and transnational influences,
and local and transnational imperatives, in the increasing emphasis on Islamic
practice, is illustrated through a second example, namely the practice of Islamic
tithing (zakat).

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Chapter 4
Zakat

Abstract While zakat was once a marginal institution in Indonesia, it is now

recognised by governments at the national level, as well as many local jurisdictions,
as a primary way through which Muslims contribute financially to the common
weal. In the post Suharto era, many districts have sought to introduce local regu-
lations on zakat alongside national-level laws, both as a means to redistribute
wealth within society and as a means of increasing the financial resources over
which they have control. In West Sumatra, zakat is now an important part of
regional and district strategies to raise funds for poverty-related projects, in part as a
response to local factors such as natural disasters, but also to deal with the local
consequences of successive regional and global financial crises. This chapter sit-
uates an account of the institutionalisation of zakat in West Sumatra since decen-
tralisation in a discussion of the meanings of zakat in the contemporary Islamic
world and in the political discourse around poverty that emerged after the 1997
Asian financial crisis. The chapter argues that zakat has provided an alternative
revenue stream that has enabled regional governments to accumulate resources in
ways that capitalise on increasing public religiosity in the province and to selec-
tively distribute them in ways that increase their electoral prospects. As the dis-
cussion that follows will show, the local collection of zakat has indeed provided
funds for poverty alleviation. However, it has also allowed politicians and those
who manage local zakat institutions to shore up their own status and, consequently,
their hold on political power.

Keywords Global Islam
Local politics
Socio-economic pressures

The Religious and Social Meanings of Zakat

Zakat is referred to 82 times in the Qur’an (Ali 1988: 9), most often alongside prayer.1
The command to pay zakat is derived mainly from the following five verses.

1
This pairing is also found in the Jewish and Christian traditions (Zysow 2009).

© Springer International Publishing Switzerland 2015 79

D.P. Salim, The Transnational and the Local in the Politics of Islam,
DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-15413-8_4
80 4 Zakat

Fulfil your devotional obligations and pay the zakat. And what you send a head of good you
will find with God; for He sees all that you do (Q 2: 110).
…be firm in devotion, pay the zakat, and hold on firmly to God. He is your friend: How
excellent a friend is He, How excellent a helper! (Q 22: 78).
… observe your devotional obligations, pay the zakat, and obey the Apostle so that you
may be shown mercy (Q 24: 56).
… Fulfil your devotional obligations and pay the zakat, and obey God and his Apostle. God
desires to remove impurities from you (Q 33: 33).
… and be firm in devotion, pay the zakat, and lend a goodly loan to God. And what you
send for yourself of the good, you will find it with God better and greater in reward, So ask
for God’s forgiveness. Indeed God is forgiving and kind (Q 73: 20).

The payment of zakat is, therefore, a religious obligation which is broadly

perceived as representing and cultivating the piety of individuals through the
meeting of their social and economic responsibilities as members of a Muslim
community. The philosophical basis of zakat is that wealth is God-given and
therefore does not fully belong to the wealthy. There are two types of zakat. The
first is zakat fitr, which must be paid by every Muslim annually before the Islamic
festival of idl fitr, celebrated at the end of the fasting month, to ensure that every
Muslim has food for the celebration.
There are several interpretations of the appropriate application of zakat fitr.
While it can be paid in cash or in kind, the minimum amount of zakat fitr that can be
paid is equal to the cost of 1 day’s staple food for each member of a donor
household, in Indonesia, generally rice (Ariff 1991: 39). This is in accordance with
Shafi’i School practice, the national standard in Indonesia. By contrast, the Hanafi
School believes that zakat fitr can be an equivalent measure of some other thing
required by poor Muslims, the value of which is now determined in a country’s
local currency (Zysow 2009). Wheat, barley, dates, raisins and milk products such
as yogurt and cheese are other examples of the goods deemed appropriate for the
payment of zakat fitr.2
The second form of zakat is zakat mal is also an annual imposition, traditionally
paid at harvest time, which is used to fund social and political projects. According
to the Shafi’i School, payment of zakat mal is required of every Muslim in pos-
session of a certain assets, such as gold, farmland and livestock. Those deemed
wealthy enough to pay zakat mal are generally expected to pay the equivalent of
two and half per cent of their possessions’ values (Salim 2008). In the Hanafi
School, zakat mal is calculated not only from the value of such assets but also from
the method by which goods are farmed, which serves as a proxy for profit (Zysow
2009). For example, goods farmed using a local water supply are calculated at twice
the rate as goods produced on a farm without irrigation.3
Interpretations of the means by which zakat mal is calculated have changed over
time. The practice initially focussed on the possession of products such as gold,

2
Islamic countries such as Pakistan and the Sudan adopt this approach (Kahf 1995: 214).
3
Unlike zakat fitr, zakat mal has been the focus of several scholarly works. See, for example,
Zysow (2009), and Alfitri (2006).
The Religious and Social Meanings of Zakat 81

agricultural products and livestock as the determinant of the obligation to pay zakat
mal. However from the time of Umar Ibn Khattab, the second of the four ‘rightly-
guided’ Islamic caliphs, new categories of zakat-liable commodities were devel-
oped, including merchandise (Zysow 2009).4 In the contemporary Islamic world,
income derived from waged work and other new commodities, including services,
are also considered in the calculation of zakat mal. Companies must also pay zakat
mal, just as individuals do.
Assessments regarding which groups constitute appropriate recipients for zakat
also vary. According to the Qur’an, eight groups are eligible to receive zakat: the
poor; the homeless; the collectors of zakat (amil); new converts to Islam; slaves;
debtors; and those engaged in the ‘way of God’, such as students and priests, and,
finally, wayfarers (Ariff 1991).5 Although all these groups are eligible to receive
zakat, the poor and the homeless are given priority. Some zakat institutions distribute
zakat collection to the collective body, but some of them do not. At times, particular
groups were excluded altogether. For example, during his caliphate, Umar Ibn
Khattab decided that new converts to Islam no longer needed to rely on zakat (Zysow
2009). In contemporary times, there have been debates about whether non-Muslims
can be among recipients of zakat. The proponents of this interpretation—such as
British Islamic Relief, which funds non-Muslims in Africa—argue that the term ‘the
poor and the needy’ implies both Muslims and non-Muslims, while their opponents
—such as Muslim Aid, which is also based in Britain—believe that zakat should
only be distributed to Muslims because majority of Muslims is in less advantage
financial society (Benthall 1999).
Islamic scholars also differ on whether the payment of zakat is voluntary or
compulsory. For example, Baqir al-Sadr, the Iraqi Shi’i scholar, asserts that zakat is
a moral obligation, but one that should be voluntary. Governments with power over
Islamic communities can enforce its payment but, in contrast to a voluntary system
which enables the rich to recognise their social responsibilities, a compulsory
system does not encourage the rich to commit to improving the welfare of the poor
(Wilson 1998: 49). Umer Chapra, the research advisor at the Islamic Research and
Training Institute of the Islamic Development Bank in Jeddah stresses that while
governments need to apply basic guidance for zakat, individual responsibility must
be encouraged (Wilson 1998: 49). The Indian Muslim scholar, Nejatullah Siddiqi,
on the other hand, proposes that zakat should be compulsory, since it is the task of a
socially responsible government to administer social justice (Siddiqi 1996: 19–20).

4
Initially, Muslim merchants were charged at the rate of 2.5 % and non-Muslims at 10 % (Zysow
2009).
5
Some categories have a broad definition, which leaves them open to new interpretations. For
example, Burr and Collins (2006: 13) argue that zakat has been used to fund terrorism under the
category of those engaged in ‘the ways of God’.
82 4 Zakat

Zakat as Taxation

As Islam developed as the functional equivalent of a state in Muslim communities,

it is not surprising that the collection of financial resources was an important
concern, similar to the development of taxation in modern states. Indeed zakat has
often been compared to modern systems of taxation. Salim (2008: 11), for example
argues that zakat does indeed function as a form of taxation, as does Benthall
(1999), who describes zakat as the first system of social security in which the state
recognised its obligation to provide for the welfare of citizens. Unlike zakat,
however, taxes aim to raise revenue to cover government expenditures such as the
cost of administration, defence, and to pay for the implementation of state policies,
while zakat is limited to the social welfare of underprivileged groups. In recognition
of this important difference, some experts assert that zakat cannot be considered a
tax in this modern sense (Abdullah 1991: 54–55).
Historically, taxation was first instituted in polities in the ancient world such as
Mesopotamia, Syria-Palestine and Greece, where particular goods or property were
handed to the King or to the royal temple (Harrelson 2005). This practice continued
in ancient Rome, where non-citizens (the people living in the provinces of the
Roman Empire) were required to feed Rome’s military machine. It was a system
which then evolved first to encompass the direct levy of taxes on citizens’ property
during times of war and later the imposition of taxes on public and cultivated land,
cattle, inheritance, sales and slaves (Coffield 1970: 3, 8). Jews also had a tradition of
tithing. Jewish rabbis were paid from tithes levied on crops such as grain, first
collected from farmers and later from their customers (Zeitlin 1932: 47). Similarly,
in Medieval Europe, the Catholic Church worked with local rulers to ensure the
flow of tithes, which were first payable on grain, vineyards, and cattle and later also
on wages and certain other kinds of profit (Meagher and Dietlein 2003).
With the development of the nation state in the seventeenth century, taxation came
to be handled by the secular authorities, rather than by religious institutions, although
countries such as Germany continued to provide support for the administration
of tithing until it became part of taxation by the state in the 1950s (Barker 2004:
169–170). There is a significant debate, however, about whether the principles of
zakat can be accommodated within more modern conceptualisations of taxation.

The Administration of Zakat in Modern States

The debate on zakat not only concerns how it should be calculated and who should
receive it but also how the process is managed, a consideration that arose with the
emergence of Islamic states around the world. During the lifetime of the Prophet
Muhammad, zakat was imposed after the Prophet and the Islamic community,
called the Al-Muhajirun, migrated from Mecca to Medina and established the
functional equivalent of a state. Poor members of this community were among the
The Religious and Social Meanings of Zakat 83

first recipients of the zakat (Basher 1993: 85). It was at this time that the diwan, the
administrative body that called on Muslims to pay zakat, was established (Al-Omar
1995: 27) and zakat officers were appointed (Ahmed 2004: 30).
After the death of the Prophet, some Muslims refused to pay zakat to his suc-
cessor, the Caliph Abu Bakr. In his response to this act of insurrection, the Caliph
labelled them apostates and rebels (Zysow 2009) and stressed the importance of
zakat, positioning it as equal in importance to the practice of prayer (Ahmed 2004:
30). During Abu Bakr’s term as Caliph, a state treasury, the Bayt Mal, was
established in Medina to collect zakat and distribute it to the recipients (Burr and
Collins 2006: 12).6 The collection and distribution of zakat became more decen-
tralised with the expansion of Islamic communities in the Umayyad and Abbasid
periods (661–1258), when it was controlled by local Islamic leaders under the
auspices of a central administration (Burr and Collins 2006: 12).
In modern times, many Islamic states, such as Saudi Arabia, Libya and Pakistan,
and even some non-Islamic states with large Islamic populations such as Bahrain and
Malaysia, have taken a role in zakat management. The practice has varied from one
Muslim country to another. In Saudi Arabia, Libya, Pakistan, the Sudan, Yemen and
Malaysia the payment of zakat is compulsory (Al-Omar 1995: 31). However the
institutions that manage zakat in these countries vary. In Saudi Arabia, zakat is
collected by an agency located in the Ministry of Labour and Social Welfare (Al-
Omar 1995: 34). Similar agencies have existed in Libya, where zakat has been
collected by the General Directorate for Zakat since 1971; and in Pakistan, where the
system has been administered by the Ministry of Finance since 1983 (Al-Omar 1995;
Zysow 2009). In other Muslim countries, such as Jordan, Bahrain and the Sudan,
semi-governmental zakat institutions collect zakat which is paid voluntarily
(Al-Omar 1995; Zysow 2009).
In Southeast Asia, Malaysia is the only state that imposes compulsory payment
of zakat on Muslims, although even there, enforcement of the law is weak
(Al-Omar 1995: 31; Zysow 2009). As a federated constitutional monarchy,
Malaysia assigns jurisdiction over Islamic laws and customs to individual states. In
most states, compulsory zakat payments are managed by the State Religious
Councils, through offices called Baitulmal. For example, in the Federal Territory of
Kuala Lumpur and Negeri Sembilan, zakat is collected by a corporation and the
proceeds are disbursed by the Islamic Religious Council’s Baitulmal Department.
However, in the State of Selangor, both the collection and disbursement of zakat are
managed by a corporation (Ahmed 2004: 77).
Islamic countries do not only differ in the institutional forms used to collect zakat
but also in what income/assets are considered in its calculation. Pakistan does not
apply zakat on bank accounts in foreign currencies, while Libya applies zakat on
paper money and company shares (Zysow 2009). The Sudan and Saudi Arabia
apply zakat on income from assets such as rented property, factories, and farms but

6
The functions of the Baitul Mal were later expanded by caliphs, dynasties, sultans and empires
to include management of government finances and expenditures (Zysow 2009).
84 4 Zakat

Saudi Arabia also collects it on hotels, taxi owners and offices of real estate agents.
Zakat is also calculated on buried treasure in the Sudan, Saudi Arabia and Libya but
not in Pakistan, Malaysia or Yemen (Al-Omar 1995: 39 and Nienhaus 2007: 174).
In Iran, one-fifth of financial benefits gained are paid to religious leaders, including
benefits derived from precious metals as well as land bought from non-Muslims
(Al-Omar 1995: 40). In Saudi Arabia zakat is levied on salaries and income from
vocational and permanent jobs, while Malaysia collects zakat from all income
generated by Muslims. In Pakistan certain institutions, such as government
departments, government-owned bodies and religious and social institutions are
excluded from the obligation to pay zakat (Imtiazi 1985).
Different standards also apply for more traditional assets like agricultural
products and livestock. Libya applies zakat on camels and cows (Al-Omar 1995),
while the Sudan does not apply zakat on livestock because of the frequency of
drought. Saudi Arabia applies zakat on wheat while grains like maize, millet, barley
and cotton are liable to zakat in the Sudan. In Malaysia, the only agricultural
product used in the calculation of zakat is rice. Different countries also use different
scales for calculating zakat on crops and fruits. In the Sudan and Libya, 653 kg/
annum is the threshold, while in Pakistan and Malaysia, it is 948 and 1,316
respectively (Al-Omar 1995).
There is also significant variation in the way zakat is distributed, both in terms of
the designated recipient groups and the extent to which individuals can determine
who benefits from their contribution. For example, in the Sudan, 25 % of the zakat
collected is allocated to the poor and the needy, 10 % to converts and debtors and
20 % to the promotion of Islam (Burr and Collins 2006: 18). Libya allocates 50 %
of zakat to the poor and divides the remainder between the other nominated cate-
gories of zakat recipients (Zysow 2009). In Malaysia, the Federal Territory of Kuala
Lumpur spent 19 % of zakat collected in 2003 on the needy, and 17 % on the poor.
The remainder was allocated mainly to administration or distributed to new con-
verts and those engaged in ‘the way of God’ (Ahmed 2004: 82).
In terms of control over zakat distribution, Saudi Arabian law authorises indi-
viduals to distribute 50 % of their zakat obligation personally to the needy, while in
Yemen individuals can distribute 25 % individually (Zysow 2009). In Malaysia,
Zysow (2009) claims that individuals prefer to pay their contributions personally to
recipients rather than use the state-mandated system. The extent to which official
institutions pass on the costs of administering zakat also varies considerably. For
example, in 2003 10 % of zakat proceeds were allocated to administrative expenses
in Jordan, Pakistan, Libya and the Sudan (Burr and Collins 2006: 18; Al-Omar
1995: 53) and 29 % in the Federal Territory of Kuala Lumpur (Ahmed 2004: 82)
but administration expenses are covered by the state budget in Bahrain, Kuwait and
Saudi Arabia (Al-Omar 1995: 53).
Non-governmental zakat institutions also exist in the Western world and in
minority Muslim countries. For example, Islamic Relief, which has its headquarters
in the United Kingdom, collects zakat in many countries including the United
Kingdom itself (since 1984), France (since 1992), the USA (since 1993), Belgium
The Religious and Social Meanings of Zakat 85

(since 1994), as well as Sweden and the Netherlands (since 1996).7 The organi-
sation collected around 47 million pounds sterling in 2008, which was distributed to
more than twenty-six countries in Africa, Asia and Southeast Asia (Islamic Relief
2009). Aid was provided to Muslims facing conflicts, such as those in Bosnia,
Darfur Sudan, Iraq and Afghanistan, and natural disasters, such as in the 2004 Aceh
tsunami and the 2005 Pakistan floods (Islamic Relief 2009).
Critics of the institutionalisation of zakat focus on its ineffectiveness and
impracticality in some countries. Kuran (2004) argues that zakat has failed to
reduce poverty and inequality in Muslim societies because of the very traditional
concepts of distribution used and poor management of zakat schemes. While
management by governments would conceivably address these concerns, a further
issue is that of a lack of community trust in governments’ capacity and integrity in
the administration of zakat (Zysow 2009).

Transnational Zakat Mechanisms

In addition to the cross-border distribution of zakat by Muslim organisations based

in the Western world, attempts have been made to coordinate zakat internationally,
in recognition of zakat’s potential as a resource transcending regional and national
borders and a means of consolidating a financial system that enables wealth to be
transferred within the Islamic world.
One of the primary mechanisms in the promotion of a more uniform approach to
zakat has been the Organisation of Islamic Cooperation (OIC). Between 1984 and
2010, the OIC organised eight international conferences on zakat in collaboration
with zakat institutions in Islamic countries. The first of these, an initiative of the
Kuwait Zakat House, was held in 1984 in Kuwait while the second, sponsored by
the Zakat and Income Tax Department of the Ministry of Finance and National
Economy of Saudi Arabia, was held in Riyadh in 1986. The third conference, which
was attended by 21 members of the OIC, was held in Kuala Lumpur in 1990. This
conference discussed the application of zakat in several Islamic countries, including
Jordan, Iran, Pakistan, Bahrain, Bangladesh, Saudi Arabia, the Sudan, Iraq, Kuwait,
Libya, Egypt and Yemen. While the conference admitted that zakat had made little
contribution to the alleviation of poverty, no concrete initiatives were established to
address this issue (Burr and Collins 2006: 15).8
In 1995, the fourth International Zakat Conference was held in Senegal. At the
fifth conference, held in Kuwait in 1998, zakat was promoted as both charity and as
a way of generating employment opportunities. Muslim governments were
encouraged to become more involved in the collection and distribution of zakat, and
to cooperate with international aid organisations and the zakat organisations of

7
Islamic Relief has also had an office in Malaysia since 2005.
8
Information is not publicly available on how many people attended the first two conferences and
what resolutions were adopted.
86 4 Zakat

other countries in the implementation of joint programs (Burr and Collins 2006:
15). The sixth conference on zakat was held in Qatar in 2003 and the seventh in
Kuala Lumpur in 2006. After the 2006 conference, the International Zakat Orga-
nisation (IZO), worth some USD3 billion, was created within the OIC to improve
collection and distribution of zakat in Islamic countries (Global Islamic Finance 12
March 2009). The eighth international zakat conference was held in Beirut in 2010.
On this occasion, the conference focused on finding sustainable sources of financing
for zakat institutions (Kuwait News Agency 30 March 2010).
Another initiative of the OIC is the Islamic Research and Training Institute
(IRTI), which operates under the supervision of the Islamic Development Bank.
IRTI has been working to develop the concept and application of zakat since 1981,
producing books and articles on zakat such as Management of Zakat in Modern
Muslim Society (1989), Lectures on Islamic Economics (1992), A Survey of the
Institution of Zakat: Issues, Theories and Administration (1994), Institutional
Framework of Zakat: Dimension and Implications (1995), Economics of Zakat
(2002) and Role of Zakat and Awqaf in Poverty Alleviation (2004). However, no
new books have been published since 2004, and IRTI provides no training for the
management of zakat.
There are also zakat networks at the regional level. For example, the Zakat
Council of Southeast Asia (Dewan Zakat Asia Tenggara, DZAT), which was
established in 2006 by Indonesia, Malaysia, Singapore and Brunei Darusssalam,
aims to improve standards and become a regional centre of zakat management in
Southeast Asian countries, facilitating, for example, the distribution of zakat col-
lected in the wealthy countries of Brunei Darussalam and Singapore in poorer
countries in the region, such as Indonesia (Moh. Arifin Purwakananta, General
Manager of Fund Raising at Dompet Dhuafa, cited in Kompas 14 November 2007).
DZAT also aims to host seminars and training programs in the management of
zakat and has organised two conferences on zakat, the first in 2006 in Malaysia and
the second in 2007 in Indonesia.

Zakat in Indonesia

Zakat had been practised in Indonesia since the time of the Islamic kingdoms of the
seventeenth century (Salim 2007: 688). At this time, as Salim shows, the collection
and distribution of zakat was managed by religious officials (amil and modin at the
village level and penghulu and naib at higher levels), as well as informal religious
leaders such as kiai and ulama. It was mainly used by those directly involved in
collecting it, as a form of compensation in lieu of salary (Salim 2007: 688).
The practices of the Islamic kingdoms in the collection of zakat continued into
the colonial period. Indeed, the Dutch only began to engage in zakat management in
the nineteenth century. Correspondence between Snouck Hurgronje, Advisor on
Native Affairs to the colonial government of the Netherlands East Indies, and Dutch
officials in the Netherlands suggests that the colonial administration was concerned
Zakat in Indonesia 87

that native officials, such as the penghulu and the naib, were misusing zakat pro-
ceeds, and that their actions would have a negative effect on the colonial authority
(Abdullah 1991). Ultimately, in 1893, the Dutch introduced a policy to prevent the
misuse of zakat by indigenous officials (Ali 1988: 32). When that failed, they
introduced a new regulation prohibiting indigenous officials from collecting zakat.
This policy left individual Muslims free to decide whether or not to pay zakat, and
whether to pay it through religious institutions or directly to their chosen benefi-
ciaries (Snouck Hurgronje 1992 [1936]).
The first modern zakat institution in Indonesia was the Indonesian Bayt Mal,
established during the Japanese occupation in 1943 by the Japanese-sponsored
Islamic political and social organisation, the High Indonesian Islamic Council
(Majlis Islam A-la Indonesia, MIAI) (Abdullah 1991: 57). In Aceh, zakat was
collected by the Syaria court (Mahkamah Syariah), also created by the Japanese
(Abdullah 1991: 58).9 After the declaration of independence, the Indonesian
Republican administration established a Ministry of Religion in 1946 (replacing the
Office for Indigenous Affairs), but it reinstated the Dutch policy on zakat through a
circular which stated that the Indonesian government would not engage in zakat
management (Salim 2008: 28). In 1959, after it was granted special autonomy by
the Indonesian government, Aceh was the first province to institutionalise zakat
(Abdullah 1991). Here, Baitul Mal were established at every level of the admin-
istrative structure, down to the village level. However, zakat fitr, rather than zakat
mal, was the main target of the zakat institution (Abdullah 1991).
No further steps were taken to institutionalise zakat until the fall of Sukarno’s
government and the establishment of the New Order in 1966–1967. Shortly after
the New Order was established, the Ministry of Religion proposed a draft zakat law
that instructed every governor to establish Baitul Mal in the province he admin-
istered (Ali 1988: 36). The draft was rejected by the Minister of Finance, Frans
Seda, in 1967. Seda believed that it was not necessary to regulate zakat through a
national law, arguing that a regulation issued by the Ministry of Religion would be
sufficient (Ali 1988: 36). A year later, the Ministry of Religion changed the focus of
its proposed law from the enactment of zakat laws to the establishment of zakat
agencies. Following the advice of the Ministry of Finance, the revised proposal was
released as Ministry of Religion Regulation No. 4/1968, under which the emer-
gence of zakat agencies and committees was to be regulated (Salim 2008: 182).
However, Suharto annulled the regulation a few months later and instructed the
Ministry of Religion to abandon its attempts to manage zakat. In its place, he
proclaimed himself as collector of zakat as a private person (Ali 1988; Abdullah
1991) and instructed military officers to prepare for the establishment of a
nationwide zakat foundation (Salim 2008). He also encouraged public officers and
local governments to establish zakat institutions in their own offices.

9
The MIAI was dissolved in the late 1943 and the Sharia court ceased operating after the
Japanese left Indonesia.
88 4 Zakat

Suharto’s initiative, which Salim (2008) argues was an attempt to sidestep

demands from the Islamic lobby to implement Islamic laws, opened a new chapter
in the state’s engagement with zakat. While subverting attempts to regulate zakat
under national law, it opened up new opportunities for the institutionalisation of
zakat by regional governments (Abdullah 1991).
Government-sponsored agencies for zakat, charity and alms (Badan Amil Zakat
Infak dan Sedekah, BAZIS) were established after the president sent a circular to all
public offices and local governments in 1968, suggesting that they establish zakat
agencies in their respective workplaces (Salim 2008: 30). BAZIS were established
in Jakarta (1968), East Kalimantan (1972), West Sumatra (1973), West Java (1974),
South Kalimantan (1974), South Sumatra, Lampung and Aceh (1975), Papua
(1978), North Sulawesi (1985), and South Sulawesi (1985) (Ali 1988; Abdullah
1991). These quasi-government zakat institutions operated parallel to traditional
systems of zakat collection and distribution, through which Muslims paid zakat
voluntarily to Islamic organisations such as Assyafiiyyah and Attahiriyyah in
Jakarta. In the 1980s, these parallel systems were joined by a new form of zakat
institution, namely voluntary company-based zakat institutions (Abdullah 1991).10
After the shift in the New Order’s approach toward Islam in the late 1980s, the
Ministry of Religion began to offer broad guidance on the management of zakat and
limited assistance to a variety of zakat institutions. As part of this initiative, the
Ministry issued Ministerial Instructions No. 16/1989 and No. 5/1991 and Joint
Ministerial Decrees No. 29/1991 and No. 47/1991 concerning the existing zakat
agencies, which jointly served to provide a legal basis for zakat agencies in
Indonesia. Importantly, however, these instructions and decrees made way for a
shift in the nature of zakat agencies from the established government sponsored
agencies to non-governmental and semi-autonomous local agencies (Salim 2008:
34). Zakat payment remained voluntary, and no provisions were made for any kind
of central coordination of zakat institutions.11

Developments in the Post-Suharto Period

Law No. 38/1999 on Zakat Management was passed in the aftermath of the Asian
financial crisis, which had seen a massive increase in the number of Indonesians

10
Abdullah highlights the example of the Badak LNG Company in East Kalimantan, which
established a zakat fund in 1987 to receive contributions from around 300 employees.
11
Note that an organisation called the Forum Zakat emerged in 1997. Led by the private zakat
institution, Dhompet Dhuafa Republika, it attempted to unite all zakat agencies (Salim 2008: 40).
This organisation, dominated by leaders of private zakat institutions, played an important role in
disseminating information before the institutionalisation of zakat in 1999.
Zakat in Indonesia 89

living in poverty.12 The law was developed from drafts proposed by the Ministry of
Religion in 1967, 1985 and 1991, which had been rejected by Suharto (Salim 2008:
48). The Ministry presented the 1999 draft to parliament on 24 June and the law
was enacted in December of the same year.13
The law, whose stated purpose is to enhance the state’s ability to help Muslims
pay zakat and to utilise Islamic concepts in achieving social justice, defines zakat as
the submission of property by Muslim individuals or institutions, which is to be
distributed to zakat recipients. According to the law, it was necessary to regulate the
institutionalisation of zakat through legislation in order to realise zakat’s potential
as a source of funds to improve social security for less advantaged citizens. Under
the law, the Indonesian government and its agencies are authorised to create zakat
institutions to collect and distribute zakat at each level of their administrative
structure, with the requirement that each institution meet reporting requirements on
its activities. It also allows private zakat institutions to collect and distribute zakat.
The 1999 law legalised the establishment of zakat institutions by both government
and private organisations. It mandated the establishment of a supervisory board to
oversee government-based zakat institutions and the payment of zakat on assets such
as gold, silver, cash; trade and companies, products of agriculture, plantation and
fisheries, mining, animal husbandry, income from work and services, and treasures
buried in the earth. It includes sanctions for administrators who fail to record, or make
errors in recording the proceeds of zakat. While it makes the payment of zakat
compulsory, it does not impose sanctions on failure to comply (Chap. 7 Article 21).
Moreover, it does not nominate the assets to be used in zakat calculations, the
methods be used to assess those assets or the groups eligible to receive zakat.
Acknowledging some of the shortcomings of the law, the Forum Zakat, the
members of which included more than 150 zakat institutions, put forward a pro-
posal for the amendment of the law in 2002. The members of the forum demanded
that changes be made so that the principles of Islam formed the basis of zakat
management. They proposed that a Ministry of Zakat and Wakaf be established,
that zakat institutions be required to actively collect zakat, and sanctions be
imposed on those who failed to meet their zakat obligations. This proposal was
rejected by Tulus, the Director of Zakat and Wakaf in the Ministry of Religion and
Wahiduddin Adam, the director of the Harmonisation of Regulations in the Min-
istry of Justice and Human Rights (Salim 2008: 57).
Despite its shortcomings, the law facilitated a dramatic restructuring of the
institutional landscape around zakat. Most importantly, it created a mandate for the
establishment of government zakat institutions (called Badan Amil Zakat) at all
levels of government and of the National Government Zakat Institution (Badan
Amil Zakat Nasional, BAZNAS). BAZNAS was established in January 2001

12
In 1990, just 3 % of population were said to be living in poverty. This figure rose to 15 % in
1999 and 23 % in 2001. According to a World Bank report released in 2002, the number was even
higher, reaching 49 % living under US$2 a day.
13
The Ministry of Religion was criticised for failing to involve Islamic scholars in the drafting
process (Salim 2008: 49).
90 4 Zakat

through Presidential Decision No. 8/2001.14 As well as collecting and distributing

zakat, the institution aims to encourage Muslims to pay zakat, to use the monies
collected to reduce poverty, and to create networks among zakat institutions. The
zakat institution has three departments: an Operating Committee consisting of 19
members and Advisory and Supervisory Boards, each with seven members.
BAZNAS has 33 provincial agencies (Badan Amil Zakat Daerah, BAZDA) and 66
collection units, mainly in Jakarta. As of 2010, there were 497 BAZDA offices at
the district level. These local agencies have some autonomy. For example, BAZ-
NAS may call on BAZDA to assist in the distribution of zakat proceeds, but not to
remit zakat collected locally to the central level.
Since its formation, the amount of zakat collected by BASNAS and BAZDA has
increased from IDR100 million in 2003 to IDR1.8 trillion in 2011 (Republika 16
January 2012). In terms of distribution, BAZNAS is authorised to distribute zakat
into five programs; education, farms and fisheries, natural disasters, health and
Islamic education. Critics suggest that BAZNAS has spent a relatively high pro-
portion of zakat proceeds on advertising materials in order to attract more zakat
payers, arguing that such costs should be covered by the state budget—a practice
that, as noted above, is found in a number of countries in the Middle East—and the
institution suffers from poor transparency and a lack of reliable reporting.15 The
criticism has prompted BAZNAS and BAZDA to urge Indonesian governments to
fund their operational expenses.
Since the enactment of the law, 18 private zakat institutions have also been
established at the national level, including Dompet Dhuafa (which is associated with
the prominent daily newspaper, Republika), Indonesia Zakat House, The Justice Post
and People’s Care, as well as institutions under the auspices of Muhammadiyah and
Nahdlatul Ulama. The Justice Post Concerning Muslim Society (Pos Keadilan Peduli
Umat, PKPU), affiliated to the Prosperous Justice Party (Partai Keadilan Sejahtera,
PKS) which claims to be one of the leading private zakat institutions, was established
in December 1999 to help Muslim refugees fleeing social conflicts in Ambon and
Maluku.16 It was subsequently formally recognised as a zakat institution through the
Minister of Religion’s Decision No. 441/2001.
As required by the zakat law, PKPU has three departments: a Supervisory Board,
an Advisory Board and an Operating Committee. Its 14 provincial branches deal
with more than 70 large companies in Indonesia and have links with 35 interna-
tional Islamic organisations and communities around the world. In 2010, PKPU
collected zakat proceeds worth around IDR10 trillion. Like BAZNAS, PKPU has
rescue and rehabilitation programs for natural disaster victims and runs advocacy

14
The information presented here was taken from BAZNAS website, available at http://www.
baznas.or.id (Accessed 21 June 2009).
15
Both criticisms were taken from a speech given by the Minister of Religious Affairs in 2008.
See the Baznas website, http://www.basnaz.co.id (Accessed 21 June 2009).
16
Most information presented here was taken from http://www.pkpu.or.id (Accessed 21 June
2009).
Zakat in Indonesia 91

services. PKPU also provides scholarships for students, clinics in rural areas pro-
viding affordable health care and funding for small business groups.
Private institutions like the PKPU collect a greater proportion of zakat than the
government zakat institutions at the various levels. For this reason, and also in light
of the fact that governments cannot control the distribution of zakat that is collected
by private institutions, the Ministry of Religion sought to introduce further
amendments to the 1999 law on zakat management in 2009. The 2009 draft
amendments proposed the imposition of sanctions for those who do not meet their
zakat obligations, as proposed earlier by the Forum Zakat, and made provisions for
the introduction of tax concessions for zakat payments. Perhaps most importantly, it
also aimed to centralise the management of zakat within government-run zakat
institutions (Republika 5 June 2009).
A heated debate took place on the proposed centralisation of zakat institutions,
which, if instituted, would bring all existing zakat institutions under the adminis-
tration of BAZNAS. Nasaruddin Umar, then Director General for the Guidance of
the Muslim Community (Direktur Jenderal Bimbingan Masyarakat Islam, Dirjen
Bimas Islam) in the Ministry of Religion—later Vice Minister for Religion—argued
that centralisation would be of great benefit because it would increase control over
the total amount of zakat collected (Ikhlas Beramal June 2009). However
spokespersons for many private Islamic organisations vociferously rejected the
proposal for centralisation under government control. For example, Jaya Saputra, a
branch head of Rumah Zakat Indonesia said that it would limit the activities of
private zakat institutions, while Ahmad Juwaini, the head of Forum Zakat, argued
that the government should be more concerned with those who do not pay zakat
rather than with centralising zakat management.
With regard to the provisions for tax deductions, Government Regulation
No. 17/2000 on Income Tax had already provided for a 2.5 % concession on state
income tax for Muslims who have paid zakat on their income. Moreover, in
August 2010, President Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono issued Government Regulation
No. 60/2010 on Zakat as a Tax Deduction on Gross Income, which allowed for the
discounting of gross income by the amount of zakat paid, thus reducing the amount
on which income tax is paid. The proposed revision sought to apply tax credit for
zakat paid on all assets. In September 2010, the Minister of Finance, Agus
Martowardojo, spoke strongly against this proposal which, as he pointed out, would
have a significant effect on tax revenue (Penghasilan Kena Pajak, PKP) (Republika
17 September 2010).
A further point of debate on the proposed amendments concerned the proposed
sanctions for those who do not meet their zakat obligations. Yusuf Wibisono, the
Deputy Head of the Centre for Islamic Business and Economics at the University of
Indonesia, suggested that this provision would not be effective, noting that similar
measures on secular taxes had been largely ineffective, as had the 1999 law, which
had obliged Muslims to pay zakat but had not made provisions for sanctions
92 4 Zakat

(BaituMal 25 October 2010).17 As Wibisono went on to point out, zakat is seen by

Indonesian Muslims as voluntary in nature. In any case, the relatively low repre-
sentation of Muslim parties in the national parliament meant that it was unlikely that
any amendment imposing sanctions would be passed.18
The proposed amendments to the 1999 law on zakat management were debated
in parliament in 2010 and 2011. Ultimately, in November 2011, Law No. 23/2011
on Zakat Management was passed, despite protests from representatives of the
Prosperous Justice Party (Partai Keadilan Sejahtera, PKS), who argued that the law
would limit the activities of private zakat institutions such as PKPU, which is
affiliated with the party, and abstention by members of the People’s Conscience
Party (Hati Nurani Rakyat, Hanura).
The amended law requires private zakat institutions to report their activities to
either BAZNAS or BAZDA, depending on their administrative level. It also pro-
vides for sanctions on private institutions that fail to do so. Upon the passing of the
law, many private zakat institutions again made public statements against it,
arguing that it would decrease the role of private zakat institutions (Republika 3
November 2011).19 In 2013, 9 private zakat institutions, such as Dompet Dhuafa,
Yayasan Rumah Zakat Indonesia, Yayasan Yatim Mandiri had requested a judicial
review on the 2003 Zakat Law to the Constitutional Court. The Constitutional Court
then annuled strict requirements for establishment of private zakat institutions.
Private zakat institutions were not necessarily from Islamic organizations, must
have legal forms and permit from governments. The court also rejected criminali-
zation of unlicensed private zakat institutions. However, the court maintains the
private zakat institutions to report their management of zakat to government body in
their own region.
Regulations have also been passed in several provinces and districts on zakat.
There is no reliable data on how many local regulations dealing with zakat exist,
since regional governments often fail to report the regulations they pass to the
central government. However, based on a report from the Ministry of Law and
Human Rights, there were at least 18 zakat regulations in seven provinces and 17
districts in 2010.
To reinforce the 2011 law on zakat, Governmental Regulation No. 14/2014 was
issued. The regulation requires each district throughout Indonesia to establish a
BAZDA—which had already been established in majority-Muslim districts
throughout Indonesia since 2001—to manage the collection and distribution of
zakat. At the time of this writing, this governmental regulation is being proposed by
Indonesia zakat forum a judicial review to the Constitutional Court in which the

17
The Indonesian government has a long-standing problem with income tax collection. Of just 20
million registered tax payers in Indonesia, only eight and half million paid tax in 2010 (Kompas 25
September 2011).
18
In 2009, 17 % of seats were held by Islamic political parties.
19
Yusuf Wibisono reportedly plans to mount an appeal against the law in the courts (Republika 3
November 2011).
Zakat in Indonesia 93

regulation maintains strict regulation for establishment of zakat institutions and

appoints the Ministry of Religious Affairs as financial auditors of zakat institutions,
not the Indonesian Ulama Council as it is used to.

Zakat in West Sumatra

In West Sumatra, as in other parts of Indonesia, zakat was traditionally collected

primarily through mosques or through Islamic private schools. The bulk of the
money collected was used to pay for the building and operation of the mosques,
orphanages and schools, with very little being distributed to the poor.
Following changes at the national level under the New Order, the first modern
zakat institution was established in West Sumatra in 1973, with the founding of the
government-sponsored BAZIS (Ali 1988; Abdullah 1991). Subsequently, BAZIS
were established in governmental institutions such as PT. Semen Padang and the
University of Andalas Padang. President Suharto’s circular to government offices in
1968 (the circular that underpinned the establishment of BAZIS across Indonesia),
zakat collection was limited to employees of these institutions.
In later years, a number of modern private zakat institutions, which became an
important mechanism for zakat collection, also emerged in the province. For
example, the Collective Body for Zakat, Charity and Alms (Badan Pelaksana
Urusan Zakat, Infak dan Sedekah, BP-UZIS), established by Muhammadiyah’s
West Sumatra branch in 1995, collected IDR3.4 million in 1995, which increased to
IDR19.2 million in 1999. Although Muhammadiyah established another private
zakat institution (Lembaga Amil Zakat Muhammadiyah, Lazismu) in 2002, BP-
UZIS has maintained its independence, collecting some IDR240 million in 2011
(Padang Ekspres 29 January 2012).
With the passing of the 1999 zakat law, regional governments were able to
establish their own zakat collection institutions. A BAZDA was first established at
the provincial level in 2001. Then between 2003 and 2007, BAZDA were estab-
lished in 18 of the 19 districts of West Sumatra (the exception being Kepulauan
Mentawai, which has a Christian majority population). In practice, these local zakat
collection agencies are controlled by the mayors and district heads. For example,
Fauzi Bahar, the Mayor of Padang, served as the head of the Padang BAZDA’s
Advisory Board from its establishment in 2006 until 2010. In this role, he per-
sonally appointed the personnel to the Padang BAZDA’s Advisory, Supervisory
and Executive boards (Interview with Irsadunas, BAZDA Executive Committee
Member, 25 November 2008).20 The Mayor of Padang then appointed the head of

20
There are clear signals, however, that local governments’ need for popular support in the
current political environment will mean that any attempt to do so will have to be negotiated with
private stakeholders.
94 4 Zakat

BAZDA’s executive at his time in office from members of the Regional Indonesian
Ulama Council. Here negotiate the Mayor and the Indonesian Ulama Council in
arrangment of zakat management.

The Public Discourse of Zakat

Official narratives about zakat have focussed strongly on the religious risks of not
fulfilling one’s obligation to pay zakat, zakat’s potential as a tool for poverty
reduction and emergency relief, and on regional governments’ important role in the
facilitation of zakat collection and distribution. However, in contrast to the public
discourse on the other issues dealt with in this book, I have not been able to find any
instances where the imposition of zakat has been justified in terms of the Minang
philosophy, ‘Adat Basandi Syarak Syarak Basandi Kitabullah’. Instead, admoni-
tions to the community to meet their zakat obligations are framed in terms of the
moral risks of failing to do so. The Padang city administration, for example, has put
up a large billboard in the centre of the city proclaiming that zakat keeps the rich
from the flames of hell and the poor from blasphemy (Zakat Menyelamatkan Sikaya
dari Api Neraka dan Simiskin dari Kekufuran). Moreover, the failure to comply
with the obligation to pay zakat is said to have implications not only for individuals
but for the entire community. According to Amri Darwis, head of the District of
Limapuluh Kota:
Recurrent disasters happen because of the faults of mankind. People no longer follow
God’s commands and doctrines. Take the example of zakat. So many people are reluctant to
fulfil their obligation to pay zakat, including government employees (Padang Ekspres 15
June 2009).

The fear of total destruction as a result of an earthquake or other natural disaster

unleashed by God on his sinful subjects has proven to be a strong incentive to meet
one’s religious obligations.21 More common, however, are appeals to Muslims’
conscience and sense of social justice. Salmadanis, the head of BAZDA Padang has
told the public on many occasions that the function of zakat is to alleviate pov-
erty.22 Similar statements have been made by the Mayor of Padang, Fauzi Bahar
(Padang Ekspres 23 April 2008) and the head of the Regional Parliament’s Special
Committee for the Regulation of Zakat, Azwar Siry, who went as far as to claim
that ‘with zakat, no Muslims will be in poverty’ (Padang Ekspres 30 April 2010).
According to Fauzi Bahar, the task of the regional government in alleviating
poverty would be minimal if wealthy people paid the appropriate amount of zakat.
In 2008, he claimed that ‘as much as IDR90 trillion could be collected in Padang

21
As noted in Chap. 2, there is general feeling in West Sumatra that natural disasters have
befallen the province because of the community’s lack of religiosity.
22
He restated this in a personal meeting with me (Interview, 15 November 2010), as did Mah-
yeldi, now the Vice Mayor of Padang in an interview 2 years earlier (Interview, 20 October 2008).
Zakat in West Sumatra 95

every year. If that potential were reached, there would be no poverty in the city’
(Singgalang 15 September 2008).23 Reiterating this theme in the following year, he
became even more pointed, exclaiming ‘how can it be that the 72 % of the people of
Padang who are prosperous cannot alleviate the poverty of the remaining 28 %?’
(Padang Ekspres 30 September 2009).24
Similar statements have been made by officials in other parts of West Sumatra.
Amran Nur, the Mayor of Sawahlunto, observed that ‘if the potential for zakat
collection was mined more intensively by BAZ Sawahlunto, there would be no
poor people in the district’ (Padang Ekspres 30 April 2010). According to Zulfiadi,
the secretary of BAZDA Bukittinggi, ‘the more people who pay zakat, the sooner
our goal of eliminating poverty will be realised’ (Padang Ekspres 12 August 2006).
The second major theme in the public discourse pertains to promoting BAZDA
or zakat institutions over alternative means of paying zakat. Proponents justify the
choice of a zakat institution (over individually-directed contributions) by pointing
to the risks of not reaching those in most need. According to Muharlion, a member
of the Padang regional parliament from the local Prosperous Justice Party (Partai
Keadilan Sejahtera, PKS), contributions to institutions such as mosques or
orphanages should be avoided because the zakat institution is most able to ensure
that distribution can be targeted at those who need it (PosMetro Padang 8 Sep-
tember 2009). Kardinal, the head of the local Ministry of Religion office in the
District of Solok Selatan, agreed with this assessment, observing that ‘while there is
no problem with paying zakat to immediate family or to neighbours, it is better to
contribute through zakat institutions because the institutions will manage the
contribution and distribute it to worthy recipients’ (Padang Ekspres 5 October
2010).
Salmadanis, the head of BAZDA Padang, spoke even more strongly against
alternative distribution mechanisms, arguing that it was in fact un-Islamic to dis-
tribute zakat through private companies. In his words: ‘The practice of big com-
panies (in distributing zakat directly) contravenes God’s commands. In At-Taubah
verse 60 of the Qur’an, it is said that a Muslim must pay zakat through a zakat
institution’ (Padang Ekspres 16 September 2008). The Mayor of Padang, Fauzi
Bahar, also took a strong stand, arguing that there was in fact a risk that zakat would
be used inappropriately if channelled through the wrong institution. He warned that
contributing to a mosque fund could, for example, result in a situation where zakat
proceeds were used for mosque construction, which was against the precepts
specifying the permitted categories of zakat recipients (Padang Ekspres 18 August
2010). On another occasion, he warned that direct contributions to individuals were
inappropriate, commenting that:

23
According to one estimate, a total of IDR300 billion in zakat could be collected in West
Sumatra. Currently, only about 10 % of this amount is being accessed (Padang Today 19 August
2010).
24
According to the National Bureau of Statistics, 15 % of West Sumatrans were living in poverty
in 2001. The figure decreased to 9 % in 2011.
96 4 Zakat

The obligation to pay zakat is not such that it should be paid directly to recipients. At the
moment our contribution passes from our hands to the zakat institution, God notes that we
have fulfilled our obligation. It is up to those zakat institutions to decide what is to be done
with the money they collect (Singgalang 18 September 2008).

Officials justify their emphasis on the importance of regional zakat institutions in

terms of their focus on the local community. As Zulfiadi noted, ‘zakat is collected
from the people of Bukittinggi and distributed only to people in Bukittinggi’
(Padang Ekspres 26 August 2010). In addition, officials explain, the use of regional
mechanisms is beneficial because regional governments are prepared to work hard
to encourage more people to fulfill their obligations and can use the funds collected
flexibly in order to meet the needs of the people of West Sumatra.
The determination of local officials to stimulate the collection of zakat is clearly
reflected in a statement by Zulfiadi, the secretary of BAZDA Bukittinggi,
describing his plans for ensuring that the well-off fulfil their zakat obligations:
Wealthy people must help the poor. All the economic resources of the wealthy in each sub-
district (kelurahan) will be documented: how many hectares of agricultural land they own,
what their business activities are, and how much income they earn. Those who are eligible
to pay zakat will be required to do so (Padang Ekspres 18 August 2010).

In another example, Hamdy Burhan, the Vice Head of the District of Pasaman,
noted that BAZDA Pasaman had managed to increase the amount it had collected
by raising awareness among government employees of their obligation to pay zakat
(Posmetro Padang 8 September 2009). Meanwhile, Fauzi Bahar received a Zakat
Award in 2011 from the national zakat research organisation, Indonesian Magnif-
icence of Zakat (IMZ), for increasing the amount of zakat collected every year in
Padang (Padang Ekspres 5 August 2011).
Officials celebrate the capacity of local government zakat mechanisms by pro-
viding examples of the good to which monies collected have been put. When Maigus
Nasir, the head of operational administration of BAZDA Padang, announced that in
2008 a total of IDR321.6 million had been allocated for scholarships to be distributed
to the highest achieving students from poor families, he emphasised that ‘this money
was collected by BAZDA Padang’ (quoted in Padang Ekspres 31 August 2008).
According to Maigus Nasir, ‘every new academic year we read in the media that there
are children of great ability whose parents cannot afford to send them to university.
For this reason, Bazda Padang provides university scholarships for the needy’
(Padang Today 26 May 2010). Announcing that transport costs for poor families
needing to travel to a hospital were being funded from zakat payments, Pun Ardi, the
Secretary of Commission IV in the Padang Regional Parliament, again emphasised
that these expenses were ‘paid by BAZDA’ (Padang Ekspres 5 April 2010).
Fauzi Bahar also pointed to the benefits of locally-controlled zakat resources in
emergency circumstances:
I think that if the management of zakat is effective, its benefits will be enormous, especially
in emergency situations. For example, in the aftermath of the 30 September earthquake, we
helped children avoid dropping out of school by using funds from the IDR43 trillion in
zakat collected by the Padang city administration (Padang Today 10 April 2010).
Zakat in West Sumatra 97

Similarly, Yandril, the head of BAZDA in the District of Agam announced that
locally-administered zakat funds had been used for emergency relief after the 30
September 2010 earthquake (Posmetro Padang 26 Mei 2010).
Muslim groups have been critical of local governments’ engagement with zakat
more generally. The head of the Fatwa unit of the regional Ulama Council (MUI),
Gusrizal Gazahar, suggested that they have taken advantage of the poor, trumpeting
the distribution of zakat proceeds to them as a government success (Padang Eks-
pres 3 September 2010). Another regional Islamic leader, Nasrun Harun, asserted in
the major national Islamic newspaper that implementation of zakat in Padang,
where all employees are subject to zakat, is not in line with Islamic principles
(Republika 15 June 2006). Individuals are required to meet a threshold (nisab)
calculated on income from their assets (or wages) before they are required to pay
zakat. According to the Shafi’i School, the nisab should be set at around 85 grams
of gold, or the equivalent of IDR25 million per a year. According to this calcula-
tion, the majority of government employees in West Sumatra should be exempted
from payment of zakat since their salaries are lower than the nisab.

The Regional Regulation of Zakat

Since decentralisation, several forms of regulation (local regulations, instructions

and circulars issued by district heads) have been used to make zakat compulsory in
West Sumatra. Local regulations (Peraturan Daerah, Perda) on zakat have been
passed in nine of the 19 districts in the province.25 The first local regulations on
zakat management was passed in Solok in 2003 (Local Regulation No. 13/2003),
quickly followed by Pesisir Selatan (Local Regulation No. 31/2003). Local Reg-
ulation No. 13/2003 on Zakat Management has the stated aim of improving the
management of zakat in order to facilitate its collection, to increase the function and
role of religious institutions in the creation of a fair and just society; and to increase
the use and efficiency of zakat. The law not only requires individual Muslims and
business institutions owned by Muslims to pay zakat but designates that payments
should be channelled through the appropriate BAZDA.
From 2004 to 2010, local regulations on zakat management were also passed in
Bukittinggi and Padang, as well as in the districts of Sawahlunto, Sijunjung and
Agam. Local regulation No. 2/2010 on Zakat Management in Padang, for example,
makes the payment of zakat compulsory for Muslim citizens financially capable of
paying it, along with businesses owned by Muslims in Padang. The local regulation
nominates assets including gold, silver, cash, trading and business profits, agri-
cultural, plantation and fishery products, mining, livestock, income and artefacts as
being liable to zakat and identifies the recipients of zakat as the poor, the homeless,
those who collect zakat (amil), new converts to Islam, slaves, debtors, those

25
Some laws extend to charitable donations (infaq) and alms (shadaqah).
98 4 Zakat

engaged in the ‘way of God’ and wayfarers. All these local regulations nominated
BAZDA as the agency for the collection and distribution of zakat.
Although other districts have not passed local regulations on zakat management,
instructions and circulars by district heads on management of zakat have been
applied in all but Kepulauan Mentawai. In the other nine districts, mayors and
district heads have used these regulatory tools, as well as less formal policies, to
better control the collection and distribution of zakat. Among other initiatives,
BAZDA have been established in Pariaman, Payakumbuh, Tanah Datar, Solok
Selatan, Pasaman Barat, Pasaman, Padang Pariaman, Lima Puluh Kota and Dhar-
masraya. In Payakumbuh and Bukittinggi, all regional government employees are
obliged to pay 1 % of their monthly income to BAZDA. The zakat contributions of
these employees are deducted automatically from their salaries (Padang Ekspres 15
June 2009).
Local officials have also argued for an amendment to the 1999 national zakat law
in an attempt to wrest control management of zakat from private zakat institutions,
asserting that government zakat institutions should be given the sole rights to the
distribution of zakat proceeds. Under this proposal, private zakat institutions would
still be allowed to exist, but only to collect zakat, not to distribute it. According to
Febri Thomas, the Head of the Zakat Sub-Unit in the Padang office of the Ministry
of Religion, a single mechanism for the management of zakat distribution is nec-
essary to avoid situations where there is overlap with other programs for poverty
alleviation, because this could result in some recipients receiving double the amount
they deserve (Interview, 29 November 2010). This proposal elicited strong oppo-
sition from proponents of private zakat institutions, who argued that they are more
trustworthy that the government’s zakat institutions (Padang Ekspres 26 August
2010), citing as evidence for this that the private zakat offices receive more con-
tributions from Muslims overseas than the state institutions (Padang Ekspres 21
August 2010).26
The mechanisms for managing zakat are determined separately by each zakat
institution. BAZDA Padang, for example, collected IDR10 billion in 2009, of
which more than IDR8 billion was distributed in that year.27 Funding allocations
included IDR5 million for four muadzin (those who call Muslims to prayer) and

26
In 2007, Fauzi Bahar, the Mayor of Padang, hosted a Zakat Conference for Southeast Asian
countries, inviting speakers from Malaysia, Brunei Darussalam and Singapore. Attendees also
included individuals from other countries such as Australia, Saudi Arabia and Germany (Rumah
Zakat 31 October 2007). It was at this conference that the decision was made to create a secretariat
of the Southeast Asian Zakat Council (Dewan Zakat Asean) in Indonesia. Private zakat institu-
tions’ overseas links are primarily with expatriate West Sumatrans. For example, the Minangkabau
Association of West Sumatra Society (the Minang USA Foundation) in America channelled their
zakat collection through PKPU in 2009. The PKPU also has links with the Minangkabau Asso-
ciation (Minang Saiyo) in Sydney Australia, which remitted around AUD3,500 to PKPU in 2009
(Interview, Jon Afrizal, 19 September 2009).
27
An amount of IDR1 billion was to be collected in 2010 in the sub-district of Kuranji alone
(Asril, the head of the education sub-unit in the sub-district of Kuranji, cited in Singgalang 25
August 2010).
Zakat in West Sumatra 99

more than IDR600 million for Islamic activities, such as payments for sermons in
governmental offices and on the local radio station, activities proposed by private
citizen Muslims and ceremonial activities during the month of Ramadan. The
remainder was distributed through a variety of allocations such as direct cash
contributions, scholarships and training for around 20,000 Muslim recipients (Ba-
zda Kota Padang 2010). BAZDA Bukittinggi announced that 60 % of the IDR1
trillion it collected in 2009 was allocated to the education of children from poor
families (Rahman Ritonga, head of the Educational Council of Bukittinggi cited in
Posmetro Padang 31 March 2010). A further IDR1.8 million was distributed to
each of seven poor older people via the Family Empowerment and Welfare Agency
(Pemberdayaan dan Kesejahteraan Keluarga, PKK) (Tati Budi Perwira quoted in
Padang Ekspres 3 June 2009). Two years later, this agency allocated the funds it
collected to social welfare programs including the provision of scholarships for
students at primary and secondary schools and incentives for non-permanent
teachers (guru honor) in both general and Islamic schools (Padang Ekspres 29 July
2011). BAZDA Pasaman Barat, meanwhile, allocated their zakat proceeds to cash
subsidies for the poor and to scholarships for tertiary students (Padang Ekspres 24
November 2011).
Muslim groups are concerned that regional governments rather than Islamic
leaders now have the authority to decide which groups of Muslims receive zakat
and which activities are funded from zakat proceeds. They fear that these funds are
being used to further the government’s own agenda. For example, in 2009 a zakat
program was combined with a governmental program called the Poor Family
Program (Keluarga Miskin, Gakin) in Padang. In another example, recipients of
scholarships from zakat proceeds are required to participate in Islamic activities
(Maigus Nasir, head of administration, BAZDA Padang, quoted in Singgalang 2
November 2010). These concerns, however, have so far had little impact on the
regional government’s engagement in the collection and distribution of zakat. Other
criticisms include complaints that the regional government’s emphasis on zakat has
silenced discussion on the use of secular income tax for social welfare programs,
which frees up the proceeds of secular taxes for other projects.

Conclusion

As this chapter has shown, regional governments construct zakat in two particular
ways. On the one hand, zakat is religious obligation designed to assist in the alle-
viation of poverty, which can be used by regional governments to increase the
availability of financial resources for the provision of social welfare and other
poverty-related projects, thus releasing funds for other initiatives. These efforts have
been extremely important in leveraging the contemporary focus on Islam within
local politics to maximise the province’s resources.
The chapter has also demonstrated, however, that the local politics of zakat
have been strongly influenced by the zakat movement in the wider Muslim world.
100 4 Zakat

The regular international conferences held by the OIC and regional meetings of the
DZAT in Southeast Asian countries, which provide networks and information to the
national government and to regional authorities, have had a significant influence on
national and local decision-making about the administration of zakat, even though
local pressures and considerations have ultimately shaped the precise institutional
form taken by those initiatives in the West Sumatran context.
Importantly also, as the chapter has shown, zakat has not been justified in local
political discourse by reference to the Minangkabau philosophy of ‘Adat Basandi
Syarak Syarak Basandi Kitabullah’, but rather to West Sumatra’s place in the
contemporary Islamic world. This is particularly striking since, as the previous
chapter has shown, references to the regional philosophy have been a strong
characteristic of public discourse on Islamic finance, even though Islamic financial
institutions have much less of a history in the province than zakat. As will be shown
in the following chapters, the public discourse on education and behaviour and
dress also make significant reference to the regional philosophy, meaning that zakat
is very much the exception in this respect.

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the rights of minorities in the post-new order era. In Indonesia: Democracy and the promise of
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political-economic system. Chiang Mai: Silkworm Books.
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Chapter 5
Islamic Education

Abstract Islamic education has become an integral part of the secular education
system in West Sumatra in the post-Suharto era. Although it has traditionally been
managed by the local office of the Ministry of Religion, regional governments now
also have a role to play in providing Islamic education and determining the form it
takes in a particular province. They also help shape community expectations about
the level of religious knowledge individuals should possess. This chapter examines
the interaction of local, national and transnational Islamic influences in Islamic
education in West Sumatra historically and since decentralisation, with a particular
focus on local government intervention in debates around Qur’anic literacy and
Pesantren Ramadan, a compulsory religious activity for public school children
during the fasting month. The chapter argues that, in discursive terms, the regional
government has sought to identify Islamic education with regional culture (which
must be maintained), while also using it as a policy tool in response to community
demands for moral renewal in the face of rapid social change.

Keywords Global Islam
Education
Local politics
Social moral demands

The Origins of Islamic Education

Islam endorses education and strongly encourages Muslims to study and learn. The
following two verses in the Qur’an show the importance of education in Islam:
God will raise those of you who believe and those who have knowledge. God is aware of
what you do (Q 58: 11).
Say: Can those who know, and those who do not know, be equal? Only they think who are
wise (Q 39: 9).

Halstead (2004: 522) argues that the term ‘Islamic education’ has three mean-
ings. First, it refers to the ‘development of individual potential and to the process of
nurturing and guiding the child to a state of completeness and maturity’. Second, it
is ‘the process of character development and learning a sound basis for moral and
social behaviour within community and society at large’. Third, it refers to ‘the

© Springer International Publishing Switzerland 2015 103

D.P. Salim, The Transnational and the Local in the Politics of Islam,
DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-15413-8_5
104 5 Islamic Education

imparting and receiving of knowledge, usually through training, instruction, or

other form of teaching’. Other scholars have tried to narrow the definition of Islamic
education. Douglas and Shaikh (2004: 2) describe it as education in which classical
Islamic literature, such as the Qur’an and Hadith, and in which the use of classical
methods, such memorisation, are central. Similarly, Wagner and Lotfi (1980)
identify mastery and memorisation of Islamic scripture as the main goal of tradi-
tional Islamic education.
Other scholars focus on the purposes of Islamic education. Rosenthal (1970) and
Talbani (1996) argue that Islamic education aims to reproduce Islamic culture and
promote Islamic ideology, while Al-Attas (1979: 1) describes its purpose as
instilling a sense of what it means to be Muslim. Chamberlin (1975) argues that
Islamic education aims to unify communities through its appeals to classical Islamic
literature, and in particular to verses on the Qur’an and the Hadith. More recently,
Haneef (2005) has described the purpose of Islamic education in the twentieth
century as being to link modern knowledge to classical Islamic literatures in order
to identify solutions to contemporary problems in Islamic communities. Perhaps
most relevant in the modern era is the concept of the ‘Islamisation of knowledge’, a
phrase first coined by the Malaysian scholar Muhammad Naquib al-Attas in 1977
and later developed by Palestinian philosopher Ismail Al-Faruqi (Halstead 2004:
522), to describe the process through which Islamic scholars filter modern educa-
tion through an Islamic lens.
Many Islamic countries favour either modern educational institutions where
Islamic education is added to the curriculum or Islamic modern educational insti-
tutions where modern knowledge is taught. In modern Islamic universities, there are
faculties of information technology, engineering, pharmacy and health, for exam-
ple. However, they also provide Qur’anic education and other disciplines such as
Arabic language, translation and interpretation of the Qur’an, history of Islam,
Syari’a and jurisprudence (Talbani 1996: 69).1 In this way, as Hefner (2007) argues,
present-day Islamic education is neither traditional nor medieval but embedded in
the modern world.

Global Perspectives on Islamic Education

Informal Islamic education arose soon after the emergence of Islam in the seventh
century. Later, when mosques were established as places of worship for Muslims in
the eighth century, they became the focus of educational practice. Prominent

1
The Islamic jurisprudence introduced by the Shafi’i School is designed to respond to day-to-day
Islamic issues by looking to the Qur’an and the Prophet’s messages for answers to contemporary
dilemmas faced by Muslims. If no direct reference to contemporary issues can be found, analogies
are drawn from other issues found in the Qur’an and the Prophet’s messages. If there is no analogy
to be drawn, Muslim judges turn to the decisions made by previous Muslim judges, customs, and
historical precedents for inspiration.
Global Perspectives on Islamic Education 105

mosques like Masjid il Haram in Mecca and Nabawi in Medina attracted Muslims
from all over the world, who came as pilgrims and stayed to study Islam and
Arabic. Mosques in other Islamic communities, such as the Umayyad Mosque in
present-day Syria, the Al-Aqsa Mosque in Israel, and the Al-Azhar Mosque
in Egypt, also became centres of Islamic and Arabic learning.2 The trend continued
in Tunisia, Mali and Spain from the eighth to the twelfth century. Mosques have
continued to be centres of informal Islamic education in present-day Islamic
communities, along with Qur’anic schools (many of them associated with a mos-
que) and community-based study groups (Wagner and Lotfi 1980: 239–240).
The origins of a more formal Islamic education system can be traced to devel-
opments in the ninth century.3 Darul Hukama (House of Wisdom), the first formal
Islamic educational institution, which was established in Bagdad by the Abbasid
dynasty, became a centre for translation and specialised study and investigation.
The Fatimid dynasty then established the Al-Azhar Mosque in Cairo in 972 and
transformed it into an academy in 989 (Ali 1996: 11). When the Ayyubids took
over Egypt in the twelfth century, they sponsored several madrasas, including the
Al-Azhar Madrasa (Ali 1996: 13). Nizamiyah University in Nishapur, and
Nizamiyah University and Mustansariya University in Baghdad were subsequently
established between the tenth and thirteenth centuries. By the middle of the fifteenth
century, there were 73 madrasas in Cairo, each of which offered religious-based
instruction according to one of the four established Sunni schools, namely the
Shafi’i, Maliki, Hanafi and Hambali schools (Ali 1996: 14). By the sixteenth
century, these forms of Islamic educational institution had expanded to locations in
North Africa such as Tunisia and Morocco. At this time, Islamic educational
institutions taught Islamic religious subjects as well as philosophy, astronomy,
medicine and mathematics.
With the expansion of colonial empires from the seventeenth century, the
financial base of Islamic education was destroyed and their graduates lost their
positions in their communities (Eickelman 1978: 488). Local officials were trained in
newly established modern secular schools and secular education replaced Islamic
education in providing the qualifications for high-status occupations (Talbani 1996).
Consequently, Muslims in urban areas aiming to enter the professions abandoned
Islamic schools in favour of secular schools (Reid 1977: 353; Eickelman 1978).
Although some Islamic institutions introduced subjects taught in secular schools
(Eickelman 1978: 488)—including Al-Azhar University in Cairo (Heyworth-Dunne
1968: 395–405)—other Islamic educational institutions remained unchanged
(Eickelman 1978: 488).
In the twentieth century, the waning of colonial empires and the creation of
Islamic nation-states led to the growth of Islamic education in the Islamic states of

2
See Laffan (2004) for a detailed discussion of the importance of Cairo, as a centre of thought and
learning, for Indonesians wishing to study Islam.
3
Most early formal educational institutions were created by the relocation of informal Islamic
educations from mosques and surrounding buildings. Today’s Islamic educational institutions
build mosques as part of their educational facilities.
106 5 Islamic Education

the Middle East. The University of Tehran was established in 1934, Baghdad
University in 1956, King Abdul Aziz University in Saudi Arabia in 1971 and
University of Umm Al-Qura in Mecca in 1981. However, the sector grew much
more slowly in other Islamic countries, which lacked clear policies on Islamic
education (Brenner 2001). In Pakistan, Aligarh Muslim University was established
in 1911 (Jaffrelot 2002: 9), but the Islamic University was not established until
1980, changing its name to the International Islamic University in 1985. In
Malaysia, the first Islamic education institution was the Kolej Islam, which was
established in 1955 in Selangor. In 1970 Kolej Islam became the Islamic Studies
Department of the University of Malaya and then the National University of
Malaysia (Universiti Kebangsaan Malaysia) in 1982 (Roff 1998: 219).
While the tertiary sector experienced limited growth, expansion of the system
was far greater at the primary and secondary levels. In Egypt, the number of
classrooms in primary and secondary madrasas managed by Al-Azhar had risen to
more than 4,000 in 1981 (Anzar 2003: 9) while in Pakistan, the number of madrasas
had grown to some 2,000 in 1980. In Bangladesh, the number of madrasas had
reached almost 7,000 in 1990s (Anzar 2003: 12). Likewise, the rise of madrasas
was also apparent in Malaysia, particularly with Mahathir Muhamad’s efforts to co-
opt traditional madrasas into the modern education system and to establish new
ones from 1981.
Islamic educational institutions have also been established in Western and
minority Muslim countries. These include Arkana College, which was established
in Sydney in 1960, the King Fahad Academy, established in London in 1985 (and
subsequently in 15 other Western cities), and the British Columbia Muslim School,
established in Canada in 1983. By 2008, these institutions were much more
numerous. In the United Kingdom alone—one of the biggest Western recipients of
education funding from Islamic countries—there were 126 Islamic schools, a
number of which also received state funding (BBC News 8 February 2007).
A defining influence on Islamic education around the world since the 1950s has
been the flow of money from oil-rich Middle Eastern countries (Brenner 2001).
Saudi oil money in particular has been used to export Saudi Arabian interpretations
of Islam to other Islamic countries through the building of, and provision of on-
going funding for, mosques, Islamic centres, schools and universities, along with
scholarships for study in Saudi Arabia. Many students are enrolled in Saudi Arabian
schools in countries such as Sudan, Pakistan, and Senegal (Prokop 2003: 83). Qatar
and Kuwait have also played an important role in funding Islamic schools in
Southeast Asia.4
Government intervention of this nature is not new. The rulers of Islamic polities
have long played a role in the establishment of Islamic educational institutions, and
in their internal politics. In the tenth century, the Fatimid dynasty used the Al-Azhar

4
There is little information available on the role of Iran in Southeast Asian educational institu-
tions, perhaps because, although Shi’a communities do exist in Southeast Asia, the majority of
Southeast Asian Muslims are Sunni.
Global Perspectives on Islamic Education 107

mosque to train Shi’a missionaries, who were subsequently sent throughout the
Islamic world. The collapse of the Fatimid government led the Abbasid dynasty to
introduce Sunni Islam to the Al-Azhar mosque and to establish the Nizamiya
Madrasah in Bagdad in the twelfth century (Ali 1996: 11). From the fourteenth to
seventeenth centuries, the Ottoman Empire tried to control Islamic education by
planning the curricula of Islamic schools throughout its empire. The flow of
financial resources to these institutions and appointments were used by Ottoman
rulers to encourage the development of interpretations that were in line with their
interests (Talbani 1996: 71).
Islamic states continued to control Islamic education after they gained indepen-
dence from their colonial rulers, and to use it to propagate their messages. For
example, the Saudi Arabian curriculum is designed to homogenise the population and
instil loyalty to the state (Doumato 2007: 154). History books disregard the pluralist
history of Saudi Arabia, in particular, the historical importance of the Shi’a, and
instead emphasise the role of Abdul Aziz (Ibn Saud) in unifying the tribes and region.
Moreover, Shi’ism was denounced openly in schoolbooks before 1993 and is still not
allowed to be taught in Saudi Schools (Prokop 2003: 81).5 Since the revolution in
Iran, Islamic schools have been used to train politicians (Eickelman 1985: 652), while
Islamic education is considered as instrument for identity-creation in Pakistan
(Talbani 1996: 76). By contrast, in Turkey, Mustafa Kemal limited the reach of
Islamic education as part of his attempt to secularise the country (Landis 2007).6

The Development of Islamic Education in Indonesia

Indonesia has a long-standing tradition of private Islamic boarding schools called

pondok pesantren, initially established in Java and Madura. The word pondok,
derived from the Arabic word fundug, means dormitory, while pesantren originates
from Sanskrit, as does santri, the word used to describe pesantren students (Dhofier
1982: 18). The first pesantren was established in 1742 in Tegalsari in Java (van
Bruinessen 1994, 2004). Hasyim Asyari, the founder of Nahdlatul Ulama, established
Pesantren Tebuireng in Jombang in East Java in 1899 and Ahmad Dahlan, the founder
of Muhammadiyah, established a school in Kauman in Yogyakarta in 1918. Both
these organisations have played a vital role in Islamic education ever since.7

5
Shi’ism continues to be denounced in books distributed at mosques (Prokop 2003: 81).
6
Since the Islamist Justice and Development Party came to power in Turkey in 2002, Islamic
education has been combined with secular Western influences, resulting in a syllabus that devotes
40 % of class time to Islamic subjects such as Arabic, Islamic jurisprudence and rhetoric and 60 %
to secular subjects (Pak 2004: 327).
7
According to Pigeaud (1967: 76), this form of Islamic educational institution has its roots in pre-
Islamic educational institutions including the Hindu mandala and ashrama. Similarly, Fokkens
(1886, cited in van Bruinessen 1994) argues that they were influenced by the ‘education villages’
(desa perdikan) and taxation-free status accorded to teachers in pre-Islamic Java.
108 5 Islamic Education

In addition to pesantren, Indonesia has a system of madrasas, which arose in

under the influence of trends in Islamic education in Egypt which saw secular
subjects introduced into the madrasa curriculum (Kelabora 1976: 231). The oldest
madrasas in Indonesia are the Sekolah Adabiyah, which was established in Padang
in 1909 by the reformist Abdullah Ahmad, and the Madrasa Aliyatus-Saniyah
Mu’awanatul Muslimin, established by Sarekat Islam in Kudus in 1915 (Yunus
1979: 63). In the 1930s, Muhammadiyah and Persatuan Islam (Persis) also intro-
duced modern disciplines in their Islamic schools (Yunus 1979: 102). Similarly, in
1932, Persyarikatan Ulama established an Islamic boarding school called Santi
Asrama in Majalengka, West Java, where agricultural skills were taught (Noer
1973: 71). By contrast, Nahdlatul Ulama maintained a focus on traditional Islamic
studies in its thousands of traditional boarding schools but introduced general
subjects such as English and Dutch in affiliated madrasas.
In the late colonial period, a number of madrasas offering secular subjects as part
of their curriculum were also established in other parts of the country. These
included the Madrasa al-Khairat in Palu, which was established by Al-Khairat, an
organisation led by Idrus bin Salim Aljufrie in Sulawesi in 1930, and the Madrasa
Nahdlatul Wathan, established by the Nahdlatul Wathan Organisation in Lombok in
1936. Al-Irsyad Islamiyah, in Jakarta, was established by Indonesians of Arab
descent in 1913, while Tarbiyah Islamiyah established Madrasa Tarbiyah Islamiyah
in 1938 in Sulawesi (Yunus 1979: 64–67).
There were two main drivers of the development of the formal Islamic education
system in this early part of the twentieth century. The first was the result of the
limited reach of the general school system. When the Dutch first came to Indonesia
in the seventeenth century, they had no interest in education. However, they
introduced secular schools in Java and the outer islands in the middle of the
nineteenth century, with the establishment of the 3 years of primary village
schooling for low level government officials. A secondary level consisting of
general and technical high schools was then introduced in the 1860s, and teacher
training colleges in 1870s (Kelabora 1976: 232).
Opportunities for ordinary Indonesians expanded with the introduction of the
Dutch Ethical Policy in 1901. The Ethical Policy was recognised the ethical
responsibility of the Netherlands government for the welfare of its colonial subjects.
As part of the implementation of the policy, the Dutch introduced Village Schools
(Volksscholen), and a 2 year extension school (Vervolgschool), to accommodate
children who wanted to continue their studies after attending a village school. These
schools made formal secular education much more widely available but still only a
small proportion of Indonesians had access to it (Abdullah 1971: 56).
The other main driver of the development of the formal Islamic education system
at the turn of the twentieth century was developments in the Middle East. In the late
nineteenth and early twentieth century, the plummeting of the costs of completing
the haj as a result of the establishment of new sea route through the Suez Canal (van
Bruinessen 1990: 47) and increasing economic activity and migration of Hadrami
Arabs to the Indonesian archipelago (Abaza 1994: 39) led to an increase in the
number of Indonesian pilgrims and students in the Middle East. Numbers rose from
The Development of Islamic Education in Indonesia 109

1,100 in 1853 to 28,800 in 1920 (van Bruinessen 1990). Many pilgrims spent years
in the Islamic education system in Mecca, Medina or Cairo before returning home
to establish Islamic schools in the Dutch East Indies. For example, Ahmad Dahlan
established Muhammadiyah schools throughout the country.
In 1905, however, the Dutch issued the Teacher Ordinance (Guru-Ordonnantie),
which established a licencing system for Islamic teachers (Suminto 1985: 51).
Under this system, native Islamic teachers were required to obtain a teaching
licence from a ‘native chief’ before they could give religious instruction. Anyone
wishing to give instruction in the ‘Mohammedan religion’ to persons other than his
immediate family was also required to inform the regent. Islamic schools failing to
comply with this requirement risked forced closure: in Java and Madura, some
Islamic teachers were not allowed to teach in mosques and private funds earmarked
for Islamic education were shifted to the Dutch treasury (Yunus 1979: 225). For
example, in the 1930s, the Madrasah al-Rabithah Islamiyyah in South Sulawesi was
closed by the Dutch after failing to conform to the Dutch regulation (Ali 2007:
101). Those who met the Dutch requirements, such as the Muhammadiyah schools,
received funding (Ali 2007: 101).8
Under the Dutch, there was a distinct polarisation between public and private
schools, where private Islamic schools were seen as being in competition with
government schools. This changed, however, during the Japanese occupation. Not
only was the Dutch language replaced by Indonesian in public schools, but it
became possible to teach Islamic subjects at primary and secondary public schools
(Yunus 1979: 121–122). Islamic teachers were also allowed to form an association
to facilitate their contact with the government (Ali 2007: 110).
After the proclamation of independence in 1945, the Indonesian National
Committee (Komite Nasional Indonesia) required the government, through the
Ministry of Religion, to oversee and assist madrasas and pesantrens and to
accommodate Islamic subjects in general schools, a requirement that the govern-
ment implemented for year four students in 1947 (Kelabora 1976: 236). The
drafting of Law No. 4/1950 on Education subsequently gave rise to intense debate
about the location of administrative responsibility for Islamic schools, prompted by
the fears of Islamic leaders and officials within the Ministry of Religion that Islamic
schools would be transformed into secular schools if they were included in the
national educational system under the supervision of the Ministry of Education
(Kelabora 1976: 235). Ultimately, a compromise was reached, and it was agreed
that Islamic schools would be excluded from the bill, meaning that Islamic schools
would be continue to be supervised by the Ministry of Religion.
The government also set out to increase the number of public Islamic educa-
tional institutions. After the creation of the Directorate of Islamic Education
(Jawatan Pendidikan Agama) in the Ministry of Religion in 1950, Islamic schools
were established for teachers (Pendidikan Guru Agama, PGA), and for religious

8
In another example of accommodation, the Dutch introduced public holidays for Islamic fes-
tivals in general schools in 1925 (Ali 2007: 62).
110 5 Islamic Education

judges (Sekolah Guru Hakim Agama, SGHA) (Yunus 1979: 361). From 1951 to
1960, PGA producing Islamic teachers were established in 20 cities in Java,
Madura, Kalimantan and Sumatra and SGHA providing training for Islamic judges
were instituted in five cities in Java and Sumatra (Yogyakarta, Bandung, Malang,
Kotaraja and Bukit Tinggi).9 In 1957, the Ministry of Religion also established the
Academy for Islamic Education (Akademi Dinas Ilmu Agama, ADIA), to train
existing Indonesian civil servants to be eligible to teach Islam in general schools.10
In addition, the Ministry of Religion provided funding for struggling private Islamic
schools. For example, Mambaul Ulum in Surakarta, which had been established in
1905 but closed in 1916, was reopened as a PGA in 1951 (Yunus 1979: 288).
In the public school system, the creation of the Education Act of 1950 decreed
that Islamic subjects were optional. Where they were offered, they were based on
Ministry of Religion-designed curriculum and textbooks distributed by the Minis-
try. In 1964, 2 h per week of religious studies were introduced into public schools.
Public schools had always been a key battlefield for the proponents of Islamic
education, because of their significance in the community. Since colonial times,
graduates of these schools had direct access to work in governmental offices, an
association that continued after independence, even though Islamic schools had
long since introduced modern disciplines. Meanwhile, Islamic groups were afraid
that the absence of Islamic studies in public schools would lead students to abandon
Islam.
At the tertiary level, the first private Islamic educational institution was the
Normal Islam School, established in 1930, and then the Islamic College, established
in 1931 (Abdullah 1971: 214). The first state Islamic college was the State Acad-
emy for Islamic Studies (Perguruan Tinggi Agama Islam Negeri, PTAIN), estab-
lished Yogyakarta also in 1950. In 1960, this college became the State Institute for
Islamic studies (Institut Agama Islam Negeri, IAIN). IAIN were subsequently
established in 14 cities across Indonesia between 1960 and 1973.11 Within the
public tertiary education system, the creation of the Supervisory Institute for Islamic
Education in General Universities (Lembaga Pembina Pendidikan Agama pada
Perguruan Tinggi, LEPPA) by the Ministry of Education led to the inclusion of

9
Private Islamic schools for teachers and judges were also established in the 1950s in Sulawesi
and in Kalimantan (Yunus 1979).
10
In 1960, the academy became a faculty of the Islamic Institute of Yogyakarta before becoming
the Syarif Hidayatullah Islamic institute of Jakarta in 1963. It has been known the State Islamic
University (UIN) Syarif Hidayatullah Jakarta since 2002.
11
Five IAIN became State Islamic universities (Universitas Islam Negeri, UIN) in the 2000s.
These public tertiary Islamic educational institutions, which were supervised by the Ministry of
Religion, were of three types: State Islamic Universities (Universitas Islam Negeri, UIN); State
Institutes for Islamic Studies (Institut Agama Islam Negeri, IAIN) and State Islamic Colleges
(Sekolah Tinggi Agama Islam Negeri, STAIN). The difference between these three types of
institution is that while STAIN has disciplines such as Islamic Principles (Ushuluddin), Islamic
Law (Sharia) and Education (Tarbiyah), these disciplines constitute separate faculties in an IAIN.
IAIN and UIN differ because UIN also has faculties in general subjects such as pharmacy,
information technology and psychology.
The Development of Islamic Education in Indonesia 111

compulsory Islamic studies subjects for Muslims in public universities from 1963.
As a result, just as Islamic subjects were taken by students in public schools, tertiary
students were required by the state to continue studying their religion as part of their
higher education.
At the primary and secondary level, the number of Islamic educational institu-
tions continued to grow in the 1970s and 1980s. The number of pesantrens
increased dramatically, from around 2,000 in 1942 to over 4,000 in 1977 and more
than 6,000 in 1985 (Yusuf 2009). The establishment of public Islamic schools
followed. In the late 1980s, the Ministry of Religion introduced fully-funded
selective public Islamic boarding schools called Islamic Special High Schools
(Madrasah Aliyah Program Khusus, MAPK), in five regional cities (including
Padang), where students were trained in Arabic and English.
As in other Muslim-majority countries, the expansion of the system during the
Suharto years was made possible by the flow of money from the Gulf states. An
example is the Institute for Islamic and Arab Sciences (Lembaga Ilmu Pengetahuan
Islam dan Arab, LIPIA), which has been operating in Jakarta since 1980. Fully
funded by Saudi Arabia, its objectives are to spread Islam and the Arabic language
using a curriculum and strategies taken from the Imam Muhammad bin Saud
Islamic University in Riyadh. It also provides aid, curriculum and teachers to
Islamic institutions and organisations including schools, universities and mosques.
The institute, which is designed to create cadres teaching Islam and Arabic to
Muslims across Indonesia, has produced around 8,600 Islamic teachers since its
establishment (Republika 12 February 2009).
Islamic countries including Saudi Arabia, Kuwait and Egypt have also provided
scholarships for Indonesians, as has the World Muslim League and the Islamic
Development Bank (ISDB). Middle Eastern educational institutions have been a
key link in the international exchange of Islamic ideas in education. When political
Islam was repressed under Suharto’s New Order, studying in the Middle East
enabled students to keep up with the major currents of Islamic thought and other
important developments in education in the Islamic world.12
Islamic schools were, however, closely controlled by the New Order, which
established an examination for Islamic teachers seeking to teach in public educa-
tional institutions. Official Islamic teachers were also required to participate in
Pancasila indoctrination courses (Pedoman Penghayatan dan Pengamalan Pancas-
ila, P4), a program of instruction for all Indonesian citizens, including teachers and
students at Islamic educational institutions. Pancasila indoctrination courses

12
Since the advent of the Internet, Muslims have been able to search online for scholarships
offered by universities in Islamic countries. Global Islamic organisations, such as the Islamic
Development Bank, also advertise scholarships for Muslims on their websites. Moreover, the
Internet provides information about education in various Islamic countries. Islamic universities
now have official websites that make educational information available worldwide, while global
Islamic organisations such as ISESCO circulate information on Islamic education through the new
media.
112 5 Islamic Education

reinforced the fact that Islam was just one of five accepted religions in Indonesia,
and that its status was in no way superior to that of the others.
Since the collapse of the New Order regime in 1998, Islamic schools have been
accorded equal status with their public equivalents under Law No. 20/2003 on the
National Educational System. This law also states that Islamic studies subjects
taught in public schools must be taught by Muslims who have graduated from
Islamic universities and been appointed by the Ministry of Religion. This
requirement has not only increased the number of students studying Islamic Edu-
cation (Tarbiyah) in Islamic universities, but has also tightened the state’s control
on the way Islam is taught in public schools. In addition, Islamic schools estab-
lished since the law was enacted are required to register with the Ministry of
Religion. Registration is not only necessary for the recognition of their graduates in
the national educational system, but also to obtain funding from the government.
All of these public Islamic schools under the Ministry of Religion must allocate
two-thirds of their curriculum to general subjects such as mathematics, English and
biology.13
As of 2010, almost 4,000 of the 42,000 Islamic primary and secondary schools
in Indonesia were registered with the Ministry of Religion as public Islamic
schools. There were also 574 Islamic tertiary educational institutions, of which 52
were public. In a period when Islam has become a far stronger feature of public life
than previously, the status of these Islamic educational institutions continues to
grow.

Islamic Education in West Sumatra

West Sumatra has a long tradition of informal Islamic education in the surau
(neighbourhood mosques), where young unmarried Minangkabau men traditionally
resided and were taught a local form of martial arts (silek) alongside their religious
instruction. In the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, surau became tarekat
schools in rural areas, largely catering to local villagers (Young 1994: 86). As noted
in Chap. 2, the first tarekat centre in West Sumatra was the Syattariyah Tarekat,
which was established in the seventeenth century. Islamic education in the tarekat
schools emphasised the individual’s connection with and knowledge of God rather

13
Law No. 20/2003 also recognises informal Islamic education as having an equal status with
other types of informal education in the national educational system, such as playgroups. An
important example of the government’s efforts to control informal Islamic education is that of
Ahmadiyah. Although the Indonesian Ministry of Justice acknowledged Ahmadiyah in 1953s, the
organisation has become controversial since global Islamic organisations such as the OIC and the
Muslim World League (Rabitah Alam Islam) declared that it was not a recognised Islamic
organisation. Pressure from the international level led organisations such as the Indonesian
Council of Ulamas to declare that Ahmadiyah was blasphemous on several occasions in the 1970s,
1980s and 2000s and to push the Indonesian government to consider it as a new religion (Nasution
2009).
Islamic Education in West Sumatra 113

than moral self-control. For them, this connection was attained through personal
experience under the charismatic teachers (Dobbin 1983: 121–122). In the surau,
boys learned to recite the Qur’an and to write out passages in Arabic calligraphy
(Graves 1981: 107).
As in other parts of Indonesia, however, the emergence of modern Islamic
schools in the region was driven by development of secular education and the
influence of Islamic educational institutions in the Middle Eastern countries in the
early twentieth century. The Dutch supported local secular schools (Nagari schools)
from 1825 to 1870, the students of which were not allowed to read the Qur’an in
class (Graves 1981: 78). The Dutch also established a Normal School (Kweek-
school) in 1856 in Bukittinggi. The nagari schools aimed at providing students with
the skills required to work in coffee warehouses (Hadler 2008: 92), while the
Normal School initially trained students of noble background and government
officials to be teachers.
In 1870, the Dutch transformed the nagari schools into public elementary
schools, which aimed to train civil servants and to provide a general ‘civilising’
influence (Graves 1981: 11). In 1872, the Normal School (Kweekschool Buki-
ttinggi) was established, which was referred to by the Minangkabau as the ‘King’s
School’ (Sekolah Raja). Graduates of the school that had performed with merit were
eligible to pursue higher degree in the Indies Medical Institute (School tot Ople-
iding van Indische Artsen, STOVIA) in Batavia and even in the Netherlands. In
1892, the Dutch also introduced a dual elementary school system, establishing First
Class Schools for notables and the children of wealthy men, and Second Class
Schools for the general population (Graves 1981: 122). These secular schools
produced nationalist leaders including Agus Salim, Muhammad Hatta and Tan
Malaka.
These secular schools, however, were not able to accommodate all the children
seeking an education, a situation which led to the establishment of Islamic edu-
cation institutions in West Sumatra (Abdullah 1971: 57). In the early twentieth
century, the reformist Kaum Muda movement began to establish Islamic schools in
the region, as part of its attempts to counter the influence of traditionalist Islam in
Minangkabau society. The first formal Islamic school established in West Sumatra
was Madrasa Adabiah in Padang, which was founded in 1909. It was followed by
other madrasas such as Madrasa Sungayang in Batusangkar (1910) and Madrasa
Diniah in Padang Panjang (1915). These madrasas introduced new subjects adopted
from Egypt, including Egyptian geography (Yunus 1979: 66).
Around the same time, some surau formalised their educational activities under
the name Sumatra Tawalib (Students of Sumatra). The first surau to establish a
Sumatra Tawalib school was that of Jembatan Besi in Padang Panjang in 1918. This
school became a model of other surau schools in the region, and in the 1920s it was
followed by Sumatra Tawalib Parabek, Sumatra Tawalib Padang Japang and
Sumatra Tawalib Maninjau (Abdullah 1971: 58–61). The use of the term ‘Sumatra’
rather than ‘Minangkabau’ in the name of the schools reflects the fact that the term
‘Minangkabau’ was not associated with Islam at this time. As noted in Chap. 2,
114 5 Islamic Education

‘Minangkabau’ was associated with Datuk Sutan Maharaja’s movement for adat-
oriented progress (Abdullah 1972: 218–234).
Faced with the sudden expansion of Islamic education in West Sumatra, the
Dutch introduced the Teacher Ordinance there in 1925, some 20 years after it was
first applied in Java and Madura. The Sumatra Tawalib schools opposed the
authority of the Dutch as prescribed in the Ordinance, and in 1930, teachers from
Sumatra Tawalib established an organisation called the United Indonesian Muslims
(Persatuan Muslimin Indonesia, Permi), as a vehicle for their anti-Dutch activities.
After its establishment, the Dutch prohibited some Islamic teachers from teaching
and in 1933 moved to close down a number of Islamic schools. The colonial
authorities also banned Permi in retaliation for its engagement in politics. After the
organisation was disbanded in 1934 and some of its leaders captured and exiled to
other parts of Indonesia, some Sumatra Tawalib schools changed their names. For
example, the Tawalib Padang Japang became Darul Fununul Abbasiah and Tawalib
Bukittinggi and Batusangkar became the Perguruan Muslim Bukittinggi and Per-
guruan Muslim Batusangkar respectively (Yunus 1979: 95).14
Muhammadiyah also played a key role in Islamic education in the region before
independence. A local Islamic teacher, Haji Rasul, had an interest in Muham-
madiyah and went to Java in 1925 to study the organisation. On his return, he
introduced Muhammadiyah in his village, Sungai Batang (Abdullah 1971: 70).
Unlike the Kaum Muda movement, which established itself in local mosques
opposing tarekat Islam before it built schools, Muhammadiyah began in West
Sumatra with a focus on Islamic schooling. Like Kaum Muda, Muhammadiyah was
on generally friendly terms with the colonial authorities.15 Muhammadiyah coop-
erated with the adat leader, Datuk Madjo Lelo, to establish a second class school
offering religious education in Sungai Batang in 1925.16 Soon after, Muhammad-
iyah established a public second class school, also in Sungai Batang, resulting in
competition between government and Muhammadiyah schools and initially leading
to a decline in the number of students in the only government school in the region
(Abdullah 1971: 77).17 The staff of this first school were graduates of Sumatra
Tawalib in Padang Panjang and Maninjau (Abdullah 1971: 77). The success of
these Muhammadiyah schools led to the establishment of other schools, including

14
The founder of the Ahmadiyah sect in Indonesia, Maulana Rahmat Ali, was invited to West
Sumatra by graduates of the Sumatra Tawalib schools who had attended an Ahmadiyah school in
India in 1920s (Ahmadiyah Indonesia 2008). Subsequently, Padang became the centre of Ah-
madiyah in Indonesia before it moved to Java in the 1930s. Evidence of the sect’s presence
includes a mosque and a madrasa in the centre of Padang.
15
This is not to say that Muhammadiyah had always had good relationships with the colonial
government. In 1930, its Tabligh (Islamic mass preaching) activities were banned after an anti-
government speech was given at its Congress (Abdullah 1971: 95).
16
Unlike other local Islamic schools, the first Muhammadiyah school was supported financially
by West Sumatrans living outside West Sumatra (perantau).
17
The enrolments in the government school rose again in the following year (Abdullah 1971: 77).
With the increased demand for formal education, ultimately both schools remained viable.
Islamic Education in West Sumatra 115

one in Padang Panjang in 1926 and then in Padang, Batusangkar and Payakumbuh
in 1928.18
A final organisation of note that had an interest in formal Islamic education
during this period was Tarbiyah Islamiyah. Established in 1928 by Inyiek
Canduang Sulaiman Ar-Rasuli, this organisation aimed at improving the Islamic
education managed by traditional religious leaders in the surau. It went on to build
Madrasa Tarbiyah Ampek Angkek Canduang, Madrasa Tarbiyah Batu Hampar
Payakumbuh and Madrasa Tarbiyah Jaho Padang Panjang (Yunus 1979: 98). These
schools were modern forms of the traditional surau, which continued to operate in
tandem with them (Noer 1973: 221).
In total, by 1933, there were more than 1,200 private schools—including schools
offering a general curriculum—with affiliations to Islamic groups such as
Muhammadiyah, Permi and Kaum Tua, as the traditionalists opposed by the Kaum
Muda were known (Abdullah 1971: 212). Apart from Kaum Tua schools, which
catered for a minority of students, these schools all offered elements of a secular
education. This arrangement continued until the arrival of the Japanese in 1942,
when Islamic studies were introduced into public schools, although Islamic teachers
worked on a voluntary basis. The Japanese established a local Islamic organisation,
the Minangkabau High Islamic Council (Majlis Islam Tinggi Minangkabau,
MITM), which established the Beginner Islamic School (Madrasah Awaliyah, MA),
which offered Islamic instruction in the afternoons to students attending morning
public schools (Yunus 1979: 122).
After independence, the regional office of the Ministry of Religion established
Islamic schools in the region. As in other parts of Indonesia, the Ministry of Religion
transformed the purpose of Islamic schools from that of training Islamic missionaries
to producing government functionaries such as official Islamic teachers and judges. In
1951, Islamic schools for teachers (PGA) and religious judges (SGHA) were estab-
lished in Bukittinggi and Padang respectively (Yunus 1979: 361). Madrasa Ibti-
daiyyah, Tsanawiyah and Aliyah (Islamic primary, junior and senior high schools)
were established along with Islamic colleges and institutes in the region. The local
office of the Ministry of Religion also managed the teaching of Islamic studies in
public schools. However, unlike in other regions, where voluntary Islamic subjects
were introduced in 1950, Islamic studies were formally included in the general school
curriculum in West Sumatra from 1947. After the implementation of the Education
Act in 1950, Islamic studies was taught from year one to year six, instead of from year
four as it was in other regions of Indonesia (Yunus 1979: 129).
There is little information on developments in the private Islamic educational
sector in West Sumatra during the late 1950s, 1960s and 1970s. What we do know
is that the Ministry of Religion established the State Institute for Islamic studies
(IAIN Imam Bondjol Padang) in 1966, along with branches in Bukittinggi, Padang

18
In 1930, Muhammadiyah had nine Islamic schools and 10 general schools in the region
(Abdullah 1971: 70–108). The first Muhammadiyah university was established in 1955 in Padang
Panjang. By 2008, there were 291 Muhammadiyah educational institutions in West Sumatra
(Karim 2008).
116 5 Islamic Education

Panjang and Payakumbuh, and later also in Solok (1968) and Batusangkar (1971).
Eventually, the branches in Batusangkar and Bukittinggi became autonomous State
Islamic Colleges (STAIN Batusangkar and Bukittinggi) while the other branches
became private Islamic colleges, including the Islamic College of Solok Nan Indah
(STAI SNI 2008). The development of Islamic schools continued in the 1980s with
the establishment of the Academy for Qur’anic studies in Padang in 1981.
As elsewhere in Islamic world, the number of private Islamic schools increased
in the 1980s and 1990s with the flow of money from Middle Eastern countries.
However, this increase was also driven by the growing number of middle-class
Muslims benefiting from economic development under the New Order. These
middle-class Muslims established Islamic boarding schools such as Serambi
Mekkah in Padang Panjang and Pesantren Hamka in Pariaman. Charging relatively
high school fees compared to normal private and public Islamic schools, these
schools were well-equipped with modern facilities such as language laboratories,
computer laboratories and multimedia facilities. While an emphasis creating an
environment that promotes appropriate Islamic behaviour is considered to be
important, these schools try to achieve a balance between Islamic and general
subjects in their curricula. The influence of Middle Eastern funding nevertheless
continued after the fall of Suharto. In 2003, for example, the Islamic boarding
school Ar-Risalah was established in Padang by a group of alumni from LIPIA
Jakarta and the Middle East universities.
As of 2010, there were 219 government-registered Islamic schools and 453 private
Islamic schools offering primary and secondary education in West Sumatra. At the
tertiary level, West Sumatra had one IAIN, two STAIN and 19 private Islamic
universities and colleges (Kemenag 2011). All these institutions were eligible to
receive funding from the national government through the Ministry of Religion.
Locally, they were also able obtain support from governments at both provincial and
district levels. Private Islamic schools also continued to receive funding from net-
works in the Middle East (Field Observations, West Sumatra, 2009).

The Public Discourse of Islamic Education

In public discourse in West Sumatra, Islamic education is closely associated with the
over-representation of Minangkabau in the Indonesian national leadership before and
after independence. In Minangkabau culture, intellectual acuity, which is seen as an
intrinsic part of Minangkabau ethnicity, is highly valued. As Gamawan Fauzi, then
Governor of West Sumatra (now Minister of Home Affairs), expressed it:
We often get caught up in the historical success of the Minangkabau… Their success
should not be something we romanticise. Compared to the present day, very few of them
had masters degrees or doctorates. Some hadn’t even been to university. But they proved
that the land of the Minangkabau is the land of the ‘brain industry’ (industri otak) (Padang
Ekspres 28 January 2009).
Islamic Education in West Sumatra 117

Although historic figures like Sjahrir and Hatta attended Dutch secular schools,
public figures like to suggest that they benefited from Islamic education. According
to Muhammad Kosim, an Islamic studies teacher at SMP Negeri 8 Padang:
Education in public schools at that time was imbued with the spirit of learning in the local
mosque (surau)… [Now] the people of West Sumatra are concerned about their ability to
produce figures of the calibre of Hamka, Mohammad Hatta, Sutan Syahrir, M. Natsir, M.
Yamin, Agus Salim and others in the future (Padang Ekspres 14 May 2010).

Kosim goes on to claim that these concerns are unfounded, because regional
autonomy had once again given control over education to the Minangkabau people:
Regional autonomy and the 2006 national curriculum mean that we should be able to
develop outstanding education programs in the regions. In West Sumatra our local Mina-
ngkabau and Muslim customs are very strong, to the extent that we’re known for our
regional philosophy, ‘Adat Basandi Syarak, Syarak Basandi Kitabullah’ (Padang Ekspres
14 May 2010).

Although Kosim’s main point concerns regional autonomy, as is so often the

case, he goes on to invoke the truism that Minang culture is built on Syari’a and
Syari’a is based on the Qur’an, thus tying the potential for a return to excellence in
education to the region’s Islamic character and its Minangkabau heritage.
The local government’s decision to invest in Islamic education nevertheless
reflects the increasing emphasis placed on religion in secular institutions. In some
districts in West Sumatra, the opportunity to join the pilgrimage to Mecca has been
offered as a reward for high-achieving educators and students. In 2009, the deputy
head of Pesisir Selatan proclaimed:
The local government (pemerintah kabupaten) has made a commitment. School principals,
school inspectors, teachers and students who achieve at the highest levels will be rewarded
with an opportunity to go on the hajj (Posmetro Padang 30 Mei 2009).

The influences of contemporary transnational Islam in West Sumatra were

reflected in statements by Said Agiel Siraj, the national chairman of Nahdlatul
Ulama, during his visit to West Sumatra in 2009. He observed that, unlike in Java,
teachers of tarekat were no longer respected in West Sumatra (Singgalang 29 July
2010). According Ohruhlik (2002: 27), the hardening of attitudes toward tarekat is a
model of interpretation of Islam in Saudi Arabia which influence of interpretations
of Islam in the province. Islamic subjects in general schools were also mainly based
on interpretations of Islam from Saudi Arabia (Assyaukanie 2006).
In a context where the transmission of religious knowledge to students is
obligatory, and the formal education system an obvious mechanism for maintaining
religiosity, there is an expectation that students in West Sumatra will be taught to
follow the tenets of their religion, not to convert to another religion, and certainly not
to abandon religion altogether. The lack of the capacity to engender religiosity has
incited a kind of moral panic about children’s perceived lack of Islamic credentials in
West Sumatra, reflected in the prominence of concerns about Qur’anic literacy in the
region. Research published in the local newspaper by a university student from the
State Institute for Islamic Studies (Institut Agama Islam Negeri, IAIN), in 2004
118 5 Islamic Education

concluded that 17 % of more than 5,000 brides and grooms surveyed in the city of
Padang could not recite the Qur’an at all and a further 20 % were not fluent in their
recitations. Among school students, the figures were even higher, with 60 % of all
elementary and secondary students in Padang being unable to recite the Qur’an at all
(Singgalang 20 June 2004). The inability to recite the Qur’an is linked to all kinds of
social problems in the region but, most importantly, the lack of religious skills like
the ability to read the Qur’an was seen to be the cause of increasing moral decay
among students.
On a related theme, being smart as a result of an Islamic education is distin-
guished in public discourse from being smart without being religious, a strategy
associated with the—as of 1997, failed—developmentalist strategies of the New
Order regime. Indeed, according to the Mayor of Padang, Fauzi Bahar:
The human resources we need do not come only from knowledge and technological skills
but also from behaviour that is in line with Islamic teaching. We again call on everyone to
acknowledge that Islamic education is an investment in the future, in ‘quality children’
(anak yang berkualitas) capable of leading the country (Singgalang 18 December 2008).

In addition to being smart, as Fauzi implies, religiously observant students—the

product of a well-thought-out, locally-controlled Islamic education system—behave
well. This makes them the ideal students, in Fauzi’s words, students who are ‘smart
and religious’ (pintar dan agamis). Indeed, a key theme in public statements about
Islamic education draws attention to a perceived association between Islamic
education and students’ religiosity, leading to a more obedient attitude towards their
parents. As Mahyeldi Ansharullah, the Vice Mayor of Padang, asserted in relation
to Pesantren Ramadan, the Islamic study program that is compulsory for general
school students during the fasting month:
The positive impact of Pesantren Ramadan is obvious among students. For example,
changes in their activities during Ramadan, from wandering around aimlessly to going
regularly to the mosque. These changes in behaviour are also felt by their parents. Because
of the opportunities provided for group introspection (muhasabah) (at Pesantren Ramadan),
children have become obedient towards their parents (Padang Ekspres 30 July 2008).

As this quotation suggests, Islamic education is believed to promote a sense of

industry, self-awareness and respect towards others, values that are the antithesis of
the aimlessness and social decay believed to be afflicting school age children in
West Sumatra.
Indeed, according to Fauzi Bahar, the benefits of this program extend beyond
keeping students occupied and encouraging them to develop an appropriate attitude
towards parental authority:
Pesantren Ramadan has four benefits. (1) It can prevent brawls and develop a sense of
solidarity between students; (2) It discourages ‘dawn romance’ [a long-established tradition
of young people spending time together after morning prayers] among secondary and high
school students because students can attend their Pesantren Ramadan lessons at their own
mosque; (3) When attending school, each student needs to spend IDR4,000 a day… by our
calculations, around IDR20 trillion can be saved during Ramadan… which is good for
the financial situation of families; (4) It has a good effect on the health of the students.
Islamic Education in West Sumatra 119

During Pesantren Ramadan, students get used to sitting cross-legged. Throughout the
Pesantren Ramadan program, they practise sitting cross-legged in the mosque. This practice
prevents a range of conditions, including developing a hunched back in later years (Padang
Ekspres 1 September 2009).

This tendency to ascribe all kinds of outcomes to increased religious observance

is a common one, not only in relation to education, but also more generally in
relation to behaviour and dress (as we shall see in the next chapter).
In the opinion of many commentators, education is best used as a preventative
rather than as a cure. In late 2008, Fauzi Bahar told the local newspaper Singgalang
that his government endorsed further investment in Islamic education because
‘increased numbers of drop outs, the widespread use of drugs and indecent
behaviour among students is caused by the weakness of Islamic education. The
most important thing about Islamic education is that it changes attitudes and
behaviour (Singgalang 18 December 2008). This statement prompted a flurry of
similar statements. According to Aristo Munandar, the district head of Agam, for
example, ‘Islamic studies should be introduced as early as possible because it will
greatly influence the students’ mentality… and prevent various negative activities
such as the use of narcotics’ (Singgalang 30 December 2008). Similarly, Ali
Mukhni, the Vice Mayor of Padang Panjang, declared that ‘one way of preventing
students from using narcotics is by to provide Islamic education for children’
(Singgalang 20 December 2008). In another example, Khatib Pahlawan Kayo, the
former head of the local Muhammadiyah branch in Padang, posited a direct causal
relationship between HIV/AIDS and Islamic education, asserting that ‘HIV and
AIDS are caused by lack of Islamic education’ (Singgalang 26 December 2008).
Statements such as these, which exploit the community’s fears about students’
failure to stay in school and the use of drugs to promote Islamic education, is very
important for our understanding of the politics of piety in West Sumatra, as we shall
see in the next section.

Policies Promoting Islamic Education

The first regulation mandating Qur’anic literacy in West Sumatra was passed by the
local parliament in the district of Solok in 2001. Under Local Regulation No. 10/2001
on Qur’anic Literacy, primary school students in Solok are required to be able to
recite the Qur’an. Under the regulation, couples intending to be married must also
demonstrate their Qur’anic literacy, which is tested by a sub-unit of the local office of
the Ministry of Religion (Kantor Urusan Agama, KUA) before the office records the
marriage. The Regulation also states that Qur’anic literacy is supported by Law
No. 2/1989 on the National Educational System, which describes one of the purposes
of education as being to create students of religious character.
Other districts followed suit. In 2003, the local parliament of the Sawah Lunto
Sijunjung district (renamed Sijunjung in 2008), passed Local Regulation No. 1/2003
on Qur’anic Literacy which, in addition to mandating Qur’anic classes for primary
120 5 Islamic Education

school students, required those intending to marry to pass a Qur’anic literacy test. In
the same year, the local parliament of Lima Puluh Kota district followed with Local
Regulation No. 6/2003 on Qur’anic Literacy. As in other districts, this regulation
mandated students’ attendance at Qur’anic schools and the Qur’anic literacy test for
couples intending to marry, while its counterpart in Pasaman passed Local Regu-
lation No. 21/2003 on Qur’anic Literacy, which requires students at all levels,
including tertiary students, as well as brides and grooms, to be able to recite the
Qur’an.
Around the same time, the parliament of the Padang district enacted Local
Regulations No. 3/2003 on Qur’anic Literacy and 6/2003 on Qur’anic Literacy for
Primary School Students, the former dealing with Qur’anic classes, and the latter
requiring certification from Islamic schools for students who wish to attend public
secondary schools. In the following year, Pesisir Selatan passed Local Regulation
No. 8/2004 on Qur’anic Literacy and Prayer, which obliges school students and
couples intending to marry to possess Qur’anic literacy and to perform the five
daily prayers. An important symbolic aspect of all these local regulations is their
reinforcement of the link between being versed in Islamic studies (through formal
classes) and being well-behaved. Indeed, the tropes ‘perfect person’ (insan kamil),
‘whole person’ (manusia seutuhnya) and ‘physically and spiritually sound’ (sehat
jasmani dan rohani) are used interchangeably in endorsements of the Qur’anic
literacy programs.
The importance of legal symbolism was also reinforced when the provincial
parliament enacted Local Regulation No. 3/2007, which endorsed the requirement
for lessons in Qur’anic recitation. The initiative was questioned, since under
decentralisation the authority to pass local regulations falls to the local parliaments
at the city and district level, rather than to the provincial parliament. However, the
provincial regulation on Qur’anic literacy was seen by provincial legislators as
being important because it demonstrated to the West Sumatran people that the
provincial parliament supported the regulations on Qur’anic literacy passed by
district parliaments in the province (Interview with Irdinansyah Tarmizi, Member of
the West Sumatra Provincial Parliament, 21 November 2008).
In practice, students in public morning schools are now obliged to attend
Qur’anic schools in afternoon Islamic schools in mosques or in private Islamic
schools. Similarly, afternoon students in public schools attend Qur’anic schools in
the morning. When a child is able to recite from the Qur’an, he or she can take an
examination at a registered mosque or Islamic private school. Once the students
pass the examination and are awarded certificates, they no longer are required to
attend lessons. It is rare to see students in year four or above at Qur’anic schools.
When the Padang regulation was implemented, there were fears that students would
be ineligible to attend school if they failed to be able to recite the Qur’an. However,
a representative of the local government quickly allayed those fears, suggesting that
the students who failed to reach the required standard would be given an additional
year to acquire the skill, and would be able to continue attending school while
doing so (Bambang Sutrisno, the Head of Education Department of the Regional
Government of Padang, cited in Antara-News, 18 June 2011).
Islamic Education in West Sumatra 121

Another example of regulation pertaining to education was Instruction

No. 451.411/2005 on Islamic Study Circles, Dawn Education, Anti-Gambling and
Drugs as well as Islamic Dress, an issued by the Mayor of Padang. This regulation
required students at public secondary schools to attend an Islamic study circle
(pengajian) at a nearby mosque twice a month from 7.30 pm and for public primary
students to attend ‘dawn education’ (Didikan Subuh) classes every Sunday from
5 am. The marks awarded for their participation in these activities constitute 50 %
of the mark they receive for the Islamic studies subject taught in public schools.
The Mayor of Padang also required students in the city to memorise and chant
the Asmaul Husna, the 99 names of God under Mayoral Instruction issued in 2007.
On the initial implementation of this instruction, students were required to under-
take the memorisation activity every day before going into classes. However, many
teachers complained that this activity was eating into time allocated for other
subjects, and the requirement was adjusted so that students only had to sing the
names of God every Friday morning before the commencement of their classes
(Interview with Iryani, Principal of Junior High School 34 Padang, 23 November
2008).19 The teachers’ complaints tapped into a major concern in the complex
debate about compulsory Islamic education. On the one hand, if students use more
than the 2 h allocated within the school curriculum for Islamic education each week,
they have less time for their academic subjects—something that weakens their
capacity to compete with private general schools in terms of reaching the national
standards in education prescribed by the central government. On the other hand, as
Fauzi Bahar observed in his speech at the opening of a seminar on Mosque
Management in Padang in 2008, proponents of compulsory programs like the
Qur’anic literacy program believe that they are necessary, precisely because
insufficient time is allocated for Islamic subjects in public schools (Republika 8 July
2005).20
Other important initiatives such as the Pesantren Ramadan have been imposed
through policy rather than through the enactment of a purpose-specific local reg-
ulation. Many cities and districts in the province operate Pesantren Ramadan pro-
grams, although policies on their implementation differ from place to place. In
many districts, such as Tanah Datar and Pariaman, the programs are held on three
consecutive days in a large mosque, while in Padang the program lasts for a whole
week, replacing educational activities at schools during that time. The Ramadan
schools teach students different types of Islamic subjects, such as faith (tauhid),
piety (ibadah) and morality (akhlak). Memorisation of short verses from the Qur’an
is also encouraged. Pesantren Ramadan is compulsory for students, but there has

19
This initiative reveals the Mayor’s personal interpretation of Islam. Influenced by tarekat Islam,
he believed that singing the Islamic names would be a positive influence on individual students’
daily lives.
20
Although the implementation of policies on Islamic education in West Sumatra has seen an
increase in the number of hours assigned to Islamic subjects, the change is insignificant when
compared to the increased number of Islamic subjects in public schools in other parts of the
Islamic world (Rivard and Amadio 2003: 214–215).
122 5 Islamic Education

been little debate in the province about the appropriateness of mandating this or
other forms of extra-curricular Islamic education.
It is important to note that, like the regulations on zakat, local regulations on
Qur’anic literacy have been challenged by the central government. In 2010, the
Directorate General of Regulations and Legislation in the Ministry of Law and
Human Rights announced that the regulations on Qur’anic literacy would be exam-
ined to determine whether they complied with national laws.21 According to Des-
maniar, the head of a sub-unit of the local office of the Ministry of Law and Human
Rights in Padang, these regulations are incompatible with national law because school
age children have the right to attend secondary school even if they are unable to recite
the Qur’an as the local regulation requires (Padangkini 21 May 2010). Also funda-
mental is the paradox that a supposedly secular government in a region where
Muslims are in the majority but there is also a significant presence of followers of
other state-approved religions, mandates religious instruction only for Muslims.
Islamic education has also been managed through the development of the
regional curriculum for public primary and secondary schools. Designed in 2010,
the regional curriculum, which is called the Increasing Quality for Surau-inspired
Education (Peningkatan Kualitas Pendidikan Bernuansa Surau, PKPBS),22 requires
teachers to employ Islamic and Minangkabau values in their teaching, for example
by beginning their lessons with the Islamic phrase, bismillah (in the name of God),
and closing them with Alhamdulillah (praise be to God), as well as creating a ‘surau
environment’, in which students are led in congregational prayer during school
hours (Muhammad Kosim, Curriculum Development Team Member cited in
Padang Ekspres 14 Mei 2010).
Similarly, at the tertiary level, the concept of a ‘Student’s Surau’ (Surau Mah-
asiswa), meaning student dormitory with Islamic environment, has been introduced,
for example, at Al-Quds in Air Tawar Padang. Those who live in Surau Mahasiswa,
must pray five times a day in the nearby mosque and must eat all their meals
together. Like the surau based curriculum, Surau Mahasiswa was inspired by the
claim that Surau has had an important role in the local prominent leaders in the past
and regional philosophy, ‘Adat Basandi Syarak, Syarak Basandi Kitabullah’
(Interview with Mochtar Naim, 3 December 2010).

Conclusion

This chapter has shown that contemporary forms of Islamic education have been
constructed primarily as a solution to fears of what Muslims perceive as an
explosion of social problems in the region. Initiatives such as Qur’anic education

21
See their website: www.djpp.depkumham.go.id.
22
The meaning of surau has been transformed from a literal reference to a traditional prayer house
to a reference to schools and modern dormitory houses.
Conclusion 123

and Pesantren Ramadan seek to stem the tide by reintroducing traditional values
associated with both Minangkabau culture and Islam, which are presented in
relation to education as being one and the same. Indeed, Islamic education has been
constructed as the way to once more enjoy the intellectual success associated with
West Sumatra in the past. West Sumatran nationalist leaders may have been
products of secular schools, but their history has been recast through claims that
their success was the result of their experiences of Islamic education.
What precisely constitutes Islamic education in West Sumatra is less definite. As
this chapter has shown, the interaction of the transnational and the national with the
local development of Islamic education is evident in the plurality of forms of
Islamic education available in the region. While the contemporary influence of the
Middle East is clearly apparent in the adoption of the policy on Pesantren Ramadan,
for example, the influence of tarekat remains in the practice of chanting the Asmaul
Husna promoted by Fauzi Bahar—a complexity that sits in strong contrast with the
logic of regional laws concerning behaviour and dress, which are discussed in the
next chapter.

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Chapter 6
Behaviour and Dress

Abstract In West Sumatra, as in a number of other regions in Indonesia (most

notably Banten), decentralisation has seen the introduction of multiple local regu-
lations, as well as other less formal measures, designed to promote and enforce
modes of behaviour and dress seen to be Islamic. Across Indonesia, these initiatives
have been seen as ways of dealing with ‘social ills’ (maksiat) including prostitution,
adultery, the consumption of alcohol and immodest dress. As this chapter will
demonstrate, many of these initiatives have affected women much more than they
have affected men. The chapter traces contemporary debates about public behaviour
in Islamic society at a global, national and local level. While it looks at Islamic
behaviour in general, it focusses particularly on the issues of modest dress, the
consumption of alcohol, gambling and illicit sexual behaviour. It argues that the
discourse on dress and behaviour primarily assumes a ‘modern’ outlook, which
positions ‘Islamic’ (Middle Eastern-inspired) practices as the direct opposite of
local tradition and the practices of the West, much as is the case with Islamic
finance. Where dress and behaviour are concerned, the adoption of properly
‘Islamic’ practices is seen as a necessary part of the local governments’ arsenal in
the fight against social problems in the region. However, it is also a means to
redirect responsibility for failing to manage those social problems away from
politicians and bureaucrats and towards the community.

Keywords Global Islam
Local politics
Women and behaviours
Social

problems

© Springer International Publishing Switzerland 2015 127

D.P. Salim, The Transnational and the Local in the Politics of Islam,
DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-15413-8_6
128 6 Behaviour and Dress

The Religious and Social Meanings of Behaviour and Dress

Islamic teachings prohibit the consumption of alcoholic drinks, gambling and

sexual activity outside a marriage between a man and a woman.1 The Qur’an
prohibits Muslims from drinking alcohol and gambling through a series of
increasingly strong statements. The first verse informs Muslims that the potential
harm of gambling and consuming alcohol outweighs their benefits.
They ask you about drinking and gambling. Say: ‘There is great harm in both, although
they have some benefit for men; but their harm is far greater than their benefit’ (Q 2: 219).

A second verse on drinking alcohol forbids Muslims to pray while intoxicated:

Believers, do not approach your prayers when you are drunk, but wait till you can grasp the
meaning of your words (Q 4: 43).

Finally, a third verse prohibits Muslims from drinking alcohol and gambling
altogether:
Believers, wine and games of chance, idols and divining arrows, are abominations devised
by Satan. Avoid them, so that you may prosper. Satan seeks to stir up enmity and hatred
among you by means of wine and gambling, and to keep you from the remembrance of
Allah and from your prayers. Will you not abstain from them? (Q 5: 90–91).

Similarly, the Qur’an prohibits sexual activity outside marriage in several verses,
which include the following:
You shall not commit adultery, for it is foul and indecent (Q 17: 32).

The adulterer and the adulteress shall each be given a hundred lashes. Let no pity for them
cause you to disobey Allah, if you truly believe in Allah and the Last Day; and let their
punishment be witnessed by a number of believers. The adulterer may marry only an
adulteress or an idolatress; and the adulteress may marry only an adulterer or an idolater.
True believers are forbidden such marriages (Q 24: 2–3).

According to Ahmed (1986: 678), extra-marital sexual relations are prohibited in

Islam because of its emphasis on paternity. She suggests that while it was socially
acceptable for both men and women to have more than one spouse before the
coming of Islam to the Middle East, this practice was condemned because Islam
requires men to be able to take responsibility for their children, which is impossible
if paternity cannot be established (Ahmed 1986: 669). Ahmed also argues, how-
ever, that the concept of ‘idda (a waiting period imposed on women before they can

1
This is in contrast to the public discourse around zakat and education, in which articulations of
regional identity position Islam not only as an integral part of the regional philosophy but also as a
fundamental aspect of historical practice in West Sumatra. Where approaches to dress and
behaviour and Islamic finance differ from each other is in the degree to which conformity with
practices elsewhere in the contemporary Islamic world is presented as being discretionary. While
the promotion of Islamic financial institutions is primarily an outward-looking process, with very
few implications for everyday life, the regulation of behaviour and dress is directed inward,
towards the daily conduct of individuals and communities.
The Religious and Social Meanings of Behaviour and Dress 129

remarry after divorce or the death of their husband) is a means of controlling

women’s movements and relationships, since no similar waiting period is imposed
on men (Ahmed 1986: 678). As Dialmy (2010) notes, Islam also allows men to
have extra-marital sexual relations with their slaves while denying the same right to
women, which she says is further proof that in Islam men are accorded more rights
than women with regard to the expression of sexuality.
The most visible symbol of Islamic behaviour is the dress code adopted by
Muslim women. The requirement to cover one’s head, arms and legs, and how
precisely this must be done, is also one of the most contested aspects of Islamic
theology. Whether women cover, and whether they do so with a burqa (an all-
encompassing body covering, of the kind worn in contemporary Afghanistan), a
niqab (a total body covering, revealing only the eyes and palms of hands), the hijab
or jilbab (a garment that leaves only the face and hands exposed), or a simple
headscarf that reveals the hair is not simply a personal decision, but a highly
political one.2
Conventional interpretations of Qur’anic injunctions concerning women’s dress
are echoed in the English translation of the Qur’an supervised by the Ministry of
Islamic Affairs, Endowments, Da’wah and Guidance of the Kingdom of Saudi
Arabia in 1989. In sura An-Nur (34), verse 31, it is said:
And say to the believing women that they should lower their gaze and guard their modesty:
that they should not display their beauty and ornaments except what (ordinarily) appears.
Thereof; that they should draw their veils over their bosoms and not display their beauty
except to their husbands, their fathers, their husbands’ fathers, their sons, their husbands’
sons, their brothers or their brothers’ sons, or their sisters’ sons, or their women, or the
slaves whom their right hands possess, or male attendants free of sexual desires, or small
children who have no carnal knowledge of women; and that they should not strike their feet
in order to draw attention to their hidden ornaments. And O ye believers! Turn ye all
together towards Allah in repentance that ye may be successful.

The key words in the above translation, the words ‘that what (ordinarily)
appear’, had been understood as referring to what ‘ordinarily appears’ in different
Islamic communities, thus constituting a general exhortation to modesty. In more
recent times, however, the Saudi government has adopted a more rigid interpreta-
tion, closing the space available to regional meanings by reinterpreting the words
‘that what (ordinarily) appear’. In the Saudis’ new translation of the same verse, it is
said:
And tell the believing women to lower their gaze (from looking at forbidden things) and
protect their private parts (from illegal sexual acts) and not show off their adornment except
only that which is apparent (like both eyes for necessity to see the way, or outer palms of
hands or one eye or dress like veil, gloves, head-cover, apron, etc.), and to draw their veils
all over juyubihinna (i.e. their bodies, faces, necks and bosoms) and not to reveal their
adornments except to their husbands, or their fathers, or their husband’s fathers, or their
sons, or their husband’s sons, or their brothers or their brother’s sons, or their sister’s sons,

2
As El-Guindi (1999: 475) points out, all styles of Middle-Eastern veil now considered to be
Islamic in fact pre-date Islam.
130 6 Behaviour and Dress

or their (Muslim) women (i.e. their sisters in Islam), or the (female) slaves whom their right
hands possess, or old male servants who lack vigour, or small children who have no sense
of feminine sex. And let them not stamp their feet so as to reveal what they hide of their
adornment. And all of you beg Allah to forgive you all, O believers, that you may be
successful (Al-Hilali 1999).

Another difference between the old and the new translation is in the meaning of
the word juyubihinna. Whereas the old translation referred to the bosom, the new
refers not only to the bosom but also to the body, face and neck.
Another verse of the Qur’an that has been reinterpreted by the Saudis is verse 59
of sura Al-Ahzab (33). In the 1989 translation, this was rendered as:
O Prophet! Tell thy wives and daughters and the believing women that they should cast
their outer garment over their persons when out of doors that is most convenient that they
should be known (as such) and not molested.

The new translation is, again, much narrower:

O Prophet, tell your wives and your daughters and the women of the believers to draw their
cloaks (veils) all over their bodies (i.e. screen themselves completely except the eyes or one
eye to see the way). That will be better, that they should be known (as free respectable
women) so as not to be annoyed… (Al-Hilali 1999).

Whereas women were exhorted to ‘cast their outer garment over their persons
when out of doors’, the new translation urges them to ‘draw their cloaks (veils) all
over their bodies, except their eyes’. Moreover, unlike the old interpretation, which
refers the function of women’s dress as identifying them in public, the new
translation equates the adoption of correct dress with their social status in the
community as ‘respectable women’.
The Saudi interpretation is important because of Saudi Arabia’s particular
position in the Islamic world as the custodian of Islam’s holiest sites. However, it is
by no means uncontested. The present Saudi endorsement of the niqab has been
challenged by Islamic scholars, including Sheikh Muhammad Sayyid Tantawi, the
grand sheikh of Al-Azhar University, who, in 2009, asked a student to remove her
niqab in his presence. This suggested that the grand sheikh regarded the wearing of
the niqab as an aspect of tradition, rather than a religious injunction (Chesler 2010).
In Malaysia, the wearing of the niqab by public servants has been prohibited since
1994 (Chesler 2010: 37). Meanwhile, in Indonesia, the question has been avoided
through the introduction of the term aurat, which leads either to an injunction to
wear the niqab (in the Hanafi school) or the jilbab (in the Shafi’i school) (Al-Qur’an
dan Terjemahannya 2007: 353).3

3
Warburton (2006) identifies three dominant approaches in the study of veiling. The first
approach represents veils as a form of institutionalised male power over women through which the
requirement to veil is used to suppress women and undermine their social position (Mahmood
2001). The second approach sees veils as a symbol of resistance not toward male domination but
Western hegemony and the secular state (El-Guindi 1999). The third approach emphasises the
function of veiling as a means for women to enter the space dominated by men and thus to
participate more fully in society (Mule and Barthel 1992).
The Religious and Social Meanings of Behaviour and Dress 131

Importantly, restrictions on dress and other aspects of Islamic practice that

discriminate against women have become a key site of feminist activism across the
Islamic world. Saba Mahmood (2005), a Muslim feminist born in Pakistan, argues
that the root of women’s oppression in Islamic countries is Islamic forms of pa-
triarchy. Similarly, Moroccan feminist writer, Fatima Mernissi (1987) argues that
Qur’anic verses are not in themselves patriarchal but rather the interpretation of
them has become a patriarchal tradition because it has been dominated by men.4
The US-based scholar and activist Amina Wadud (1999) agrees that the problem
of patriarchal domination should be challenged by the reinterpretation of the Qur’an
from a woman’s perspective. Through her scholarly work, Amina has demonstrated
that mainstream interpretations of Qur’anic statements on the role of women solely
as child bearers and care-givers are misguided. In Southeast Asia, the Malaysian
Muslim feminist group Sisters in Islam has played important role in studying the
Islamic sources used to support discriminatory practices against women, such as the
failure to condemn domestic violence, polygamy, the demand for women’s
unquestioning obedience to men, the inferior position of women as witnesses in
courts of law, and conventions of modesty (Anwar 2001: 227–230).5

Behaviour and Dress in the Islamic World

Most of the scholarship on the enforcement of Islamic behaviour focuses on the

development of Wahhabism in Saudi Arabia in the nineteenth century (Commins
2009; DeLong-Bas 2008; Peskes 1999).6 With initial support from the Al Saud
dynasty, Wahhabi authorities enforced Islamic behaviour in the Ottoman lands in
present-day Saudi Arabia. They banned smoking in public and enforced attendance
at prayer. With the collapse of the Al Saud dynasty in the late nineteenth century,
this regime of enforcement came to an end. However, when Abd al-Aziz Ibn Saud,
the son of Al Saud regained control of Riyadh in 1902 and expanded his domain to
encompass the territory of present-day Saudi Arabia, he established a religious
police force called mutawwa’in (Committee for the Promotion of Virtue and the
Prevention of Vice) in 1926 (Commins 2009: 95).7 In the following year, a series of
‘illicit’ practices such as extra-marital sexual relations, gambling and the

4
As Riffat Hasan (1987) notes, paradoxically, Muslim men have continued to suggest that Islam
has given women more rights than any other religious tradition.
5
In Indonesia, Rahima, the Muslim feminist organisation established in 2000, has also been
active in reinterpreting Islamic sources.
6
The Wahhabists call themselves either salafi, one who follows the ways of the first Muslim
generation (salaf) or muwahhid, one who professes God’s unity.
7
This force was established in collaboration with the Muslim Brotherhood movement in Saudi
Arabia to enforce Wahhabist standards of public morality and punctual observance of prayer. This
religious force has become a model for other guardians of correct religious observance, such as the
Taliban in the former Islamic Emirate of Afghanistan.
132 6 Behaviour and Dress

consumption of alcohol were criminalised (Seaman 1980: 440). Punishments

available at sentencing included public beheadings for adulterers (Michalak and
Trocki 2006: 547).
The enforcement of Islamic standards of behaviour in other Islamic countries
have varied widely, although, as in Saudi Arabia, enforcement regimes have
changed over time in response to social and political change. When Muammar
Gaddafi came to power in Libya in 1969, he relied heavily on Islam for the
legitimation of his regime, and, by 1972, extra-marital sexual relations, gambling
and alcoholic drinks were designated as offences under Libyan criminal law (Peter
1994: 255). In Iran, the 1979 revolution also led to prohibition of extra-marital sex,
the consumption of alcohol and gambling (Peters 1994: 260–261). Before the 1979
revolution, the Pahlavi dynasty enforced a legal code modelled on those of Europe,
first adopted in the Iranian Constitutional Revolution of 1907. The Pahlavi dynasty
also adopted European dress and enforced rigid restrictions on the wearing of
religious dress and the veiling of women (Arjomand 1981: 302), which came to be
associated with the excesses of the regime.
In the wake of the Iranian revolution, Islamic behaviour has become a form of
symbolic opposition to the West. Zia Ulhaq introduced similar prohibitions in
Pakistan in the same year as the revolution took place (Peters 1994: 256), and in
Sudan, the Nimeiri regime introduced laws banning the consumption of alcohol and
extra-marital sex in 1983 (Gravelle ibid: 263). In Malaysia, adultery and the con-
sumption of alcohol are criminalised for Muslims under the Federal Constitution
and are subject to the legislative and executive powers of the Federal authority and
the states. Some states, for example, Kelantan, have used their authority to intro-
duce laws punishing Muslims who violate received codes of behaviour. In the case
of Kelantan, a Hudud law was enacted in November 1993, under which adulterers
and those caught drinking alcohol can be punished (Kamali 1998: 204).
The most extreme, and well-known, regime of behaviour regulation in the
contemporary Islamic world is that implemented by the Taliban in Afghanistan in
1994, under which everything from listening to music, dancing, watching televi-
sion, playing cards and kite-flying to schooling for girls was banned (Kleiner 2000:
21; Rashid 2002: 2; Armajani 2012: 199). The interpretation of Islam by the
Taliban originated with Mullah Omar, who claimed to be applying Divine Law
(Kleiner 2000: 21–22).8
Unlike behaviour, which has been intermittently regulated in the Islamic world,
clothing—and especially the clothing of women—has been politicised since the
early days of Islam. During some periods, clothing has been used as a symbol of a
particular regime or stream of Islam. The Abbasid dynasty (750–1250) used black
garments (Baker 1997: 179) as a symbol of opposition toward the previous
Umayyad dynasty (661–750) (Khaldun 1967: 215). Abbasid high officials were
required to wear black garments a few times a week (Baker 1997: 179) to remind

8
Mullah Omar led the rebellion against Afghan warlords during the Soviet invasion (Armajani
2012: 196–197).
Behaviour and Dress in the Islamic World 133

them that they were mourning the loss of their people in the battle against the
Umayyad (Khaldun 1967: 215). Particular forms of headdress were also required of
officials of the Ottoman Empire before the nineteenth century. In Iran, the Qajar
Shi’i regime replaced the headdress associated with Sunni Islam with the kolah, a
tall black lamb-skin headdress, in the nineteenth century (Baker 1997: 179).
In Islam, men and women are regarded as sexual beings and sexual intercourse is
seen as highly desirable (Mernissi 1987), as long as it is enjoyed in a socially
approved marriage (El-Guindi 1981). In Islamic communities, veils are generally
donned by young women after they experience their first menstrual cycle. As this
physical experience marks the time from when women may be married, the wearing
of a veil effectively demonstrates a woman’s physical readiness to enter into a
sexual relationship with a man. However, socio-economic and demographic factors
also contributed to the development of cultures of veiling in Islamic countries. With
increasing numbers of slaves and concubines in Islamic communities in the eighth
century, veils became a symbol of wealthy women’s separation from slaves and
concubines (Nelson 1973). Veils were also markers of families’ economic success,
as the wearing of the veil distinguished women of means, who could afford not to
work, from the majority of the population, who worked in rural agriculture (Chatty
1997: 129). The prevalence of veiling continued to increase in Islamic communities
with the abolition of slaves in 1950s (Chatty 1997: 143), as ex-slaves wore veils to
show that they were now free. According to El-Guindi (1999: 475), rural to urban
migrants enthusiastically embraced the veil because they saw it as ‘a symbol of
urbanising and moving up’.
A countervailing force within Muslim communities in the nineteenth and
twentieth centuries was the influence of colonialism and of Western modernity
more generally. During the colonial period, veils were eschewed by many women,
at a time of widespread adoption of Western-style clothing. Centred in Egypt, a
movement developed among educated women who rejected the veil, which they
saw as unnecessary and as a symbol of oppression. A key figure in that movement
was Qasim Amin, who in 1899 wrote a book called The Liberation of Women, in
which she argued that veil excluded women from public life (Hoffman-Ladd 1987:
27). A number of other prominent women joined her, including Nabawiya Musa,
Malak Hifni Nasif and Huda Al-Sha’rawi, and in 1923, Egyptian women began to
appear in public without veils (Salmoni 2003: 486).
Governments, too, have long recognised the symbolic importance of veiling,
either encouraging the practice as a marker of resistance towards Western cultural
imperialism or enjoining its absence as a marker of modernity. The most influential
examples of the former are Saudi Arabia and Iran. Veiling, an established cultural
practice in the Middle East, was initially enforced in the name of Islam in Saudi
Arabia by the Wahhabi movement in the early nineteenth century. Midawwara, an
outer white garment that lay over a woman’s head, was the traditional form of
Islamic dress for women before the establishment of Saudi Arabia as a country in
1932, when the wearing of the abaya (a black cloak and scarf) began to be
encouraged (Yamani 1997: 57–59). Even up to the late 1950s, when the use of
black was officially endorsed, Saudi Arabian women mostly wore pale coloured
134 6 Behaviour and Dress

veils (Yamani 1997: 59). According to Yamani (1997: 59), although the enforce-
ment of the abaya in the late 1950s was clearly a result of increasing Wahhabi
influence, it was also a response to Saudi Arabians’ intensive contacts with the
Western world since the early 1950s. The next major turning point in the Saudi
Arabian politics of women’s dress was the regime’s attempts to justify its
enforcement of the wearing of the niqab through a new interpretation of the
Qur’anic passages concerning women’s dress, as described above.
Saudi Arabia has clearly played important role in development of veiling in the
contemporary Islamic world. However, it was the 1979 Iranian revolution that was
the watershed in the global politics of veiling. Veils were outlawed under the
Pahlavi dynasty (Savory 1978: 206), and the Reza regime killed around 500 and
arrested 800 people involved in a demonstration to support veils in Iran in 1935, a
few days before veils were officially banned (Baker 1997: 183). The forced
unveiling lasted only 5 years, until Reza Shah was replaced by his son, Mohammad
Reza, who adopted a more flexible approach toward the veil, leading women to
wear loose head scarves (Zahedi 2008: 256). After the 1979 revolution, however,
the veil became compulsory for females over the age of 12 regardless of their
religion. From 30 May 1981, failure to comply has attracted a punishment of
1 year’s imprisonment (Paidar 1995: 232).9
The Iranian revolution inspired the introduction of veils in other Islamic coun-
tries (Norton 1997), but it also led a number of regimes to try to restrict what they
perceived as attempts to spread the revolution through new forms of dress. Like the
Pahlavi dynasty in Iran, Mustafa Kemal had discouraged the veil in Turkey in the
1920s, arguing that it was an uncivilised form of dress (Norton 1997). In order to
westernise Turkey, Mustafa Kemal first abolished the Caliphate and its offices,
religious schools and madrasas in 1924 and then, in 1925, introduced an obligation
for men to wear hats. At the same time, women were discouraged from wearing
veils (Norton 1997). While in urban areas Turkish women increasingly followed
Western fashion, veils nevertheless persisted in the countryside.
In the 1970s, the National Salvation Party, led by Necmettin Erbakan, sought to
legitimise the wearing of the veil as a form of traditional dress, a position that
increased the polarisation in Turkish politics (Olson 1985). After General Kenan
Evren established a military regime in 1980, the Turkish government’s attempts to
limit the influence of the Iranian revolution led to an increasingly intense focus on
veiling and its political implications. The result was the mandating of a form of
national dress that excluded veils but emphasised modesty. Under the new regime, a
law regulating dress and appearance was introduced that prohibited male employees
of public agencies from growing a moustache, beard or long hair and female
employees from wearing mini-skirts, low-necked dresses and headscarves (Olson
1985: 163). A major dispute erupted over the restriction on veiling in 1984, when a

9
It is important to note also that policies on veiling have often been associated with political
crisis. In the context of the Arab-Israeli war, for example, Egyptian Muslims believed that their
defeat was caused by a decline of religious faith, and a return to veiling was part of the symbolic
reassertion of traditional values (Chatty 1997; El-Guindi 1999: 469).
Behaviour and Dress in the Islamic World 135

female professor from the Aegean University in Izmir was dismissed for insisting
on wearing a veil while teaching, on the grounds that the Turkish Constitution
guaranteed freedom of religion and thus her right to wear a veil (Olson 1985: 162).
In another high-profile case, four medical students from Uludag University were
suspended for wearing veils to university in the same year (Olson 1985: 161).
Debates around veiling re-emerged in 2002, when Turkey’s major Islamic political
party, the Justice and Development Party (Adalet ve Kalkınma Partisi, AKP) gained
a parliamentary majority. However, it was only in 2008, when the AKP gained a
majority of seats in the parliament for a second term, that the ban on the wearing of
veils in universities was overturned (Saktanber and Corbacioglu 2008: 515).
Nevertheless, this decision was quickly annulled by the Constitutional Court
(Chesler 2010: 36).
Veils continue to be prohibited in some other Muslim countries as well. Since its
independence from France in 1956, the Tunisian government, like its Turkish
counterpart, has promoted a version of national dress that did not include a veil for
women. It formally banned the wearing of veils in schools and government offices
in 1981. Many citizens ignored the 1981 banning, prompting the Tunisian gov-
ernment to reassert its prohibition against the wearing of veils in public places. In
2006 veiled women were threatened with the prospect of losing their jobs (Chesler
2010: 37). Veils were also prohibited in Somalia in 2007, after the collapse of the
Islamic regime. There, police officers have the power to remove veils from
women’s heads on the streets of the major cities (Afrol News 24 August 2010).10
As this discussion suggests, the politics of veiling has long contained a trans-
national element. In recent decades, that transnational dimension has been institu-
tionalised through global Islamic organisations such as the Organisation of Islamic
Cooperation (OIC), which strongly supports veiling and links it to opposition to the
Western world. A major campaign tactic employed by the OIC has been to link
negative incidents related to veils in Western countries with Islamophobia (Sheri-
dan 2006). A major focus of that campaign has been France, which has banned the
hijab in public schools since 2004 (Parker 2005), and the wearing of the niqab and
burqa in public places since 2010 (Ismail 2010). Of nine negative incidents reported
at the 36th Council of Foreign Ministers of the OIC in Damascus, Syria, in 2009,
five were incidents related to rejection of the niqab and the burqa.11 The IOC has
described such incidents as a form of religious and racial discrimination, and has
used human rights frameworks to challenge the banning of any form of Islamic
head covering (Third OIC Observatory report on Islamophobia 2010: 61). While it
is clear that the use of the human rights framework is simply expedient—since the
concept of religious freedom or freedom of expression is never been used by these
organisations in relation to cases of protests against veiling in the Islamic world—

10
In response, the Islamist rebel group, Al-Shabaab, ordered Somali women in areas they con-
trolled to wear veils or face punishment (Newstime Africa 10 December 2009).
11
2nd OIC Observatory Report on Islamophobia, June 2008 to April 2009, issued at the 36th
Council of Foreign Ministers, Damascus, Syrian Arab Republic, May 23–25, 2009.
136 6 Behaviour and Dress

the campaign is instructive as an example of attempts to shift the status of veiling

from religious observation to a form of collective opposition to the Western world.
It is in the context of these international struggles over Islamic behaviour and dress
that Indonesia’s experience over the last century and a half must be evaluated.

Behaviour and Dress in Indonesia

Behaviour and dress have never before been as highly regulated as they are in
contemporary Indonesia. In the era of the Islamic kingdoms, marriage and inheri-
tance were the focus of jurisdiction in the kadi courts (Lev 1972: 5). However, there
is little information on what mechanisms were in place to ensure compliance with
the law. Marriage and inheritance were also the focus of the Islamic court system
(raad agama) established by the Dutch in 1882 (Lev 1972: 14). Other aspects of
public behaviour during the colonial period were regulated under provisions con-
cerning local (as opposed to Islamic) standards of decency. For example, the
Criminal Code of 1915 included chapters on decency, which criminalised acts such
as adultery and homosexuality. The law also contained provisions to deal with
public inebriation and the sale of alcohol (Staatsblad No. 732 Chaps. 281–303).
The law, however, was not strictly enforced (Blackburn 1997: 113).
In 1937, the balance between Islamic and local norms was further regulated
when the Dutch adopted the so-called ‘reception theory’, under which Islamic
norms were explicitly subordinated to rules of adat, meaning that where incom-
patibilities existed (for example, in matters dealing with inheritance), the norms of
adat, rather than Islam, were to be followed (Cammack 1997: 146). This approach
was strongly criticised by later generations of Islamic scholars. For example,
writing after independence, Professor Hazairin, a well-known Indonesian scholar of
Islamic law, described it as ‘the devil’s theory’ because in some parts of Indonesia,
the adat code sometimes incorporated practices prohibited in Islam, for example in
regard to marriage (Lindsey 2010: 307).

After Independence

Initially, the colonial-era adat code and the secular law on decency were maintained
after independence, while Islamic marriage was placed under the jurisdiction of the
Ministry of Religion in 1946. In 1951, under Emergency Law No. 1/1951 con-
cerning Civil Courts, the Islamic court system was re-established and inheritance
added to the matters to come before it. Marriage was further regulated under Law
No. 22/1964 on Registration of Marriage, which made provisions for Muslims to
register their marriages with the Ministry of Religion. Marriages recorded by the
Ministry were recognised by the state, but registration was not compulsory.
Behaviour and Dress in Indonesia 137

The state’s regulation of Islam was strengthened considerably with the intro-
duction of Law No. 1/1965 on Prevention of the Misuse of Religion and Blas-
phemy, which was passed in response to pressure exerted on the government by
Islamic groups in the early 1960s. The blasphemy law not only outlawed the rituals
of deviant Islamic sects but also made it illegal for any individual or organisation to
promote religious practices that were perceived to deviate from the state’s inter-
pretation of Islam (Platzdasch 2011: 4).
The first major intervention of the early New Order period in this sphere was the
introduction of Law No. 1/1974 on Marriage. As noted above, marriages had been
registered with the Ministry of Religion since 1964; however, there had been no
attempt to fully codify marriage before the passing of this law, leaving Muslim
women in particular with little certainty in terms of their rights within marriage and
mechanisms to protect them (Katz and Katz 1975: 656).12 In its initial draft, the law
made registration obligatory, and required polygamy or inter-faith marriage to be
authorised by a civil court. It also included recognition of the status of engagement
to marry, and contained provisions to compel a man to marry his fiancée if she fell
pregnant during the engagement period (should she wish him to do so). Under
pressure from Islamic organisations the more radical elements of the bill were
ultimately revised; however in the final law, registration of marriage was made
compulsory and Muslim men were required to obtain permission from a civil court
to be able to divorce or to marry a second or subsequent wife (Katz and Katz 1975:
660–662). Paradoxically, then, Law No. 1/1974 was in fact the first codified version
of Islamic behaviour pertaining to marriage in Indonesia.13
The struggle over the marriage act was just one of a number of clashes between
Muslim groups and the state over behaviour and dress in the 1970s. During that
decade, new Islamic organisations began promoting their interpretation of Islamic
behaviour in Indonesia. For example, Tablighi Jama’at (Jamaah Tabligh), formed in
India in 1930 by Shaikh Mawlana Muhammad Ilyas, arrived in Indonesia in 1950
but it only began to gain influence in the 1970s. Led by Ahmad Zulfakar, it required
its female adherents to wear the chador and its male adherents to wear Middle
Eastern style clothing (the jalabiyah) and to grow beards (Azra 2006: 190).
Another politically-oriented Islamic organisation that introduced conservative
forms of dress in Indonesia in the 1970s was Darul Arqam. Established in Malaysia
in 1968 by Imam Ashari Muhammad al-Tamimi, this organisation sought to
introduce what it saw as a totally Islamic way of life, which included encouraging
women to wear the chador and men to wear the jalabiyah (Azra 2006: 191; Hamid
2005: 88).14 Hizbut Tahrir (HT), originally a political party established by Shaikh
Mohammed Taqiuddin an-Nabhani in Lebanon in 1952 (Ahmed and Stuart 2009:

12
Before the passing of the law, it was common for Muslim women to be married, divorced or
made to share her husband with other wives without her consent.
13
Scholars have written extensively on the marriage law in Indonesia. See, for example, Cam-
mack, Young and Heaton (1996); Blackburn and Bessel (1997); Blackburn (2004, 2008).
14
Darul Arqam was banned in most provinces in the 1990s (Azra 2006: 192).
138 6 Behaviour and Dress

15) was established in Indonesia in 1978 under the leadership of Abdullah bin Nuh,
the head of an Islamic boarding school in West Java, and his son, who joined
Hizbut Tahrir as a student in Jordan (Ward 2009: 150). This organisation, which
aims to establish a caliphate to unite Islamic communities across the globe, also
mandates the wearing of Middle Eastern styles of clothing.
The introduction of new kinds of Islamic dress by these organisations marked
the beginning of a gradual change in the form of Islamic dress adopted more
generally in Indonesia. Dress had never been a major focus of Islamic practice in
the country before 1980. Like the midawwara in Saudi Arabia and the basortusu in
Turkey, the kerudung, a white outer garment that covers the woman’s head and
shoulders, was until this time considered sufficient to fulfil the Islamic exhortation
to cover the female body. In fact, many devout women considered it sufficient in
public to wear a selendang, which partially covered their hair, or indeed not to
cover at all (Amrullah 2008).15
As elsewhere in the Islamic world, it was the 1979 Iranian revolution that led to
an increase in the wearing of Middle Eastern-style veils and other forms of Islamic
dress in Indonesia. Students at the Bandung Institute of Technology (ITB) with
links to the global Islamic organisation, the Muslim Brotherhood, began promoting
the wearing of veils in Islamic training sessions at the university mosque, Masjid
Salman, in the early 1980s (Fox 2004: 10). Organised by the university-based
organisation, the Dakwah Defenders’ Training Institute (Lembaga Mujahid Da-
kwah), and led by Imaduddin Abdul Rahim, ITB students also established small
Islamic study circles among students. Following the Bandung example, another
Islamic student organisation, Indonesian Muslim Students (Pelajar Islam Indonesia,
PII), began to promote the veil across the country. They, like students at ITB, saw
veiling as a form of opposition to perceived Western cultural domination in
Indonesia (Alatas and Desliyanti 2001: 25).
In response to the growing importance of veils as a marker of Islamic identity
and opposition to the West, the New Order government intermittently took mea-
sures against the practice, most often among students. In 1979, the Teacher
Training College (Sekolah Pendidikan Guru, SPG) in Bandung placed students
wearing a headscarf in a special class, an initiative it was forced to abandon under
pressure from regional Islamic leaders (Tempo 11 December 1982). Two senior
high schools in Bandung, SMAN 3 and 4, also prohibited the jilbab in 1980 (Alatas
and Desliyanti 2001). In Jember, East Java, a student who wore the jilbab to SMAN
1 Jember after participating in an Islamic training session at the ITB was expelled in
1982 (Alatas and Desliyanti 2001).
In the same year, following the example of the Turkish government, the New
Order government introduced a national school uniform, as a way of containing the
influence of the Iranian revolution. The wearing of veils in government offices was

15
Unlike in Middle Eastern countries, there are a few general terms for veils in Indonesia. Cadar
is used to describe both the burqa and the niqab, while jilbab refers to a hijab. In the following
discussion, I use the generic term ‘veil’ for all categories, and other terms only when necessary.
Behaviour and Dress in Indonesia 139

prohibited under Ministry of Education Instruction Letter No. 052/C/Kep/D/82.

This prohibition increased debate on Islamic dress in the country. In 1983, the
Indonesian Council of Ulamas (MUI) sought to have the regulation annulled
through dialogue with the Ministry of Education, but the attempt was unsuccessful
(Alatas and Desliyanti 2001). The campaign against the prohibition gained
momentum in the mid-1980s, when Islamic magazines and newspapers, including
Panji Masyarakat, a magazine published by the Ministry of Religion, began to
publicise cases of prohibition on the wearing of the jilbab in public schools, which
helped mobilise the magazine’s readers (Alatas and Desliyanti 2001).
Suharto changed his approach toward public display of Islamic behaviour from
the late 1980s, in an attempt to gain the support of the Islamic lobby. The most
conspicuous indication of this remarkable turn-around was his decision to make the
pilgrimage to Mecca in 1991, accompanied by his wife, and his sons and daughters.
When the family was in Mecca, King Fahd of Saudi Arabia gave Suharto a new first
name, Muhammad. While many Indonesian Muslims argue that Suharto undertook
the pilgrimage for religious reasons, scholars saw a political motivation in his
decision (Azra 2006: 96).16
As part of the softening of Suharto’s stance on Islam, his government’s policies
on veiling in schools were relaxed. Initially, there was some variation in the practice
adopted by different schools and districts. For example, veiled students were
allowed to return to SMAN 1 Bogor in 1988, while those attending SMAN 68
Jakarta were forced to move to Islamic private schools in the same city in 1989
(Alatas and Desliyanti 2001). The New Order government finally annulled the
prohibition of on the wearing of the jilbab in public schools through the Ministry of
Education Letter of Instruction No. 100/C/Kep/D/1991 on the Wearing of Uniforms
in Secondary Schools.17
Another major change that took place in the final decade of Suharto’s rule was the
re-establishment of Islamic courts, through Law No. 7/1989 on Islamic Courts.18
Among other measures, this law provided for an expansion of Islamic courts’
jurisdiction over marriage and divorce (the only two issues managed by Islamic
courts before 1989), to also cover inheritance. It also equalised the power of
Islamic and civil courts, overturning an earlier provision that decisions taken
by Islamic courts had to be ratified by a civil court (Cammack 1997: 143). Two years
later, Suharto instructed Islamic leaders to codify Islamic law on marriage,

16
Refer to Chap. 2 for a detailed discussion of the politics of this period.
17
Some limits on veiling persisted, even after the circulation of the Letter of Instruction. Students
were forced to remove their jilbabs for the photographs that appeared on their academic certifi-
cates, although some students were allowed simply to show their ears to meet the requirement
(Alatas and Desliyanti 2001). This requirement was only fully lifted in 2002 when the Director
General of Primary and Secondary Education released Letter of Instruction No. 1174/C/PP/2002
(Media Indonesia 1 April 2002).
18
Islamic courts have been under the Supreme Court since 1999 and in the post-Suharto era
Islamic courts have managed issues such as marriage, inheritance, wills, gifts, charity and Islamic
finance.
140 6 Behaviour and Dress

inheritance and charitable land in a document called the Compilation of Islamic Law
(Kompilasi Hukum Islam, KHI). Drafted by representatives from the Department of
Religion and the Supreme Court and regulated through Presidential Instruction
No. 1/1991, the KHI was designated an authoritative point of reference for the
Islamic courts (Ka’bah 2007: 86).
A fourth example of the change in Suharto’s stance towards Islamic behaviour
and dress was his decision in 1994 to ban a national sport lottery (Porkas Sepak-
bola), which had been operating since 1986 (Liddle 1996: 614). MUI initially
supported the national lottery, which was organised by the Ministry of Social
Affairs, on the grounds that a lottery was not a form of gambling because it did not
incite division and feelings of hatred among participants (van Dijk 2007: 48). In
1991, MUI changed its position toward the ‘Social Charity Donation with Prizes’
(Sumbangan Dermawan Sosial Berhadiah, SDSB), the lottery that replaced Porkas
Sepakbola. In conjunction with the Indonesian Association of Muslim Intellectuals
(Ikatan Cendekiawan Muslim Indonesia, ICMI), MUI issued a statement that all
forms of lottery are in fact gambling and thus forbidden in Islam, leading to the
prohibition of lottery throughout the country (van Dijk 2007: 48).

Increasing Legal and Social Control

In the post-Suharto period, Indonesia has experienced a dramatic escalation of the

process of Islamisation. At the national level, dress and modesty have been a major
focus for change. In 2007, the Ministry of Religion released a translation of the
Qur’an that changed the interpretation of the requirement for women to cover their
bodies. Following the lead of the Saudi Arabian government’s translation, the new
Indonesian version mandated the covering of the aurat as the acceptable standard,
which meant that a kerudung was no longer acceptable. The old translation,
released in 1970, had been flexible enough to accommodate the Indonesian tradi-
tional forms of kudung or kerudung. In that version, An-Nur (24) verse 31 had read:
Tell believing women to turn their eyes away from temptation and to preserve their chastity
and not to display their adornments except those that are (normally) seen. And tell them to
draw their garments (kain kudung)over their bosoms and not to display their finery except
to their husbands, or their fathers, or their husbands’ father, their sons, their step-sons, their
male relatives, or the sons of their male relatives or the sons of their female relatives or
Muslim women, or the slaves they own or male attendants who have no interest in women
or children who are yet to understand women’s aurat. And let them not stamp feet when
walking so as to reveal their hidden adornments.

In the 2007 version, the translation of this verse was altered to read:
Tell the believing women to turn their eyes away from temptation and to preserve their
chastity, and not to display their adornments (their aurat), except what is (normally) seen.
And urge them to draw their garments (kain kerudung) over their bosoms and not to display
their finery (aurat), except to their husbands, their fathers or their husbands’ fathers, their
sons, their step-sons, or their male relatives or the sons of their male relatives, or the sons of
Behaviour and Dress in Indonesia 141

their female relatives, or women (also Muslim), their slave-girls, male attendants lacking in
natural vigour, and children who have no carnal knowledge of women. And let them not
stamp feet when walking so as to reveal their hidden adornments.

According to this new interpretation, women’s ‘adornments’ and ‘finery’, which

are meant to be kept hidden except from close relatives, correspond to their aurat
(according to the Shafi’i school, all areas of their body except their faces and
hands), a term traditionally associated in Indonesia with the requirements for prayer
rather than for everyday life. This translation renders the following condition
‘except what is normally seen’ redundant, since there are no parts of women’s aurat
(which means something to be hidden) that can be ‘normally seen’ in Islamic
terms.19
In the decade and a half after the fall of Suharto, the most controversial debate
over the regulation of behaviour and dress in Indonesia at the national level was that
surrounding the introduction of the 2008 pornography law. The bill, which was first
introduced in February 2006, was proposed in response to a small number of high-
profile controversies in preceding years. From 2000, the dangdut singer and dancer,
Inul Daratista, whose gyrating hips and scanty attire had featured on national
television engaging in what was seen some Muslims as pornographic activities had
provoked vigorous debate (Weintraub 2008). Then a month before the bill was
introduced to parliament, an Indonesian version of Playboy magazine was laun-
ched, prompting an angry reaction from the head of NU, Hasyim Muzadi, who
attacked the publication as a ‘spearhead of foreign moral degeneracy, a global
trademark of pornography’ (Sherlock 2008: 3). The bill covered both pornography
and ‘pornoaction’ (pornoaksi), a term referring to any public act that could be seen
as sexual, obscene or erotic (Allen 2007: 101). It attracted great controversy
because it sought to ban activities such as kissing on the lips in public, erotic
dancing and the wearing of clothes by women that revealed their thighs, navels and
any part of their breasts (Sherlock 2008: 2).
The bill was supported by Islamic groups including the Prosperous Justice Party
(Partai Keadilan Sejahtera, PKS), the Islamic Defenders’ Front (Front Pembela
Islam, FPI), the Mujahidin Indonesian Council (Majelis Mujahidin Indonesia,
MMI), and the Liberation Party (Hizbut Tahrir, HT), as well as by some within
Muhammadiyah and Nahdlatul Ulama (Allen 2007: 103). Like Hasyim Muzadi,
these groups considered the bill to be a vital weapon in the fight against the spread
of pornography, which they perceived to be undermining the country’s morals
(Sherlock 2008: 2).
Critics of the bill claimed that it could be used to further marginalise and restrict
the rights of women, non-Muslims, minority groups practising their traditional way
of life and sexual minorities. According to these groups, the bill regarded women as

19
As discussed in the opening sub-section of this chapter, ‘what is normally seen’ was originally
seen as an injunction to modesty in line with local customs pertaining to dress. When the original
Arabic terms for ‘beauty and adornments’ are replaced by ‘aurat’, ‘what is normally seen’ becomes
irrelevant.
142 6 Behaviour and Dress

objects that need to be contained—a view held, for example, by the women’s
organisation Srikandi Indonesian Democracy (Srikandi Demokrasi Indonesia, SDI)
(Allen 2007: 106). Non-Muslims considered the bill as an attempt to enforce the
moral code of one religion on all communities. The bill attracted particular criticism
in Papua, where traditional dress includes penis gourds, grass skirts and bare
breasts, which would be criminalised under the bill, and in Bali, where statuary,
paintings and dance exposing parts of body deemed unacceptable in the draft are
integral to the island’s culture and religion (Allen 2007: 110).20
After 2 years of heated discussion, Law No. 44/2008 on Pornography was
passed, but with the term ‘pornoaction’ omitted. The law defines pornography as a
picture, sketch, illustration, piece of writing, moving picture, animation, cartoon,
body movement, but also a voice, sound or conversation, and any other form of
message in any type of media and or in a public place containing an obscenity or an
instance of sexual exploitation (Article One). The law prohibits the production,
duplication, distribution, importation or export of pornographic materials, as well as
their sale, purchase or rental, or any other involvement with those processes.
Despite the controversy over the pornography bill, attempts have persisted to
mandate Islamic dress and behaviour. In 2010, the Indonesian government attempted
to regulate the behaviour of public figures. Minister for Internal Affairs, Gamawan
Fauzi, who had earlier succeeded in applying standards of Islamic dress in West
Sumatra, advocated the application of Islamic standards of behaviour for candidates
for the positions of governor and head of district across Indonesia in a (failed)
attempt to foil the plans of Julia Perez and Maria Eva to stand for election as deputy
district heads in Pacitan and Sidoarjo in East Java respectively (Kompas 16 April
2010).21 Gamawan Fauzi’s argument is based on Article 27 (l) of Law No. 32/2004
on the amendment of Law No. 22/1999 on Regional Autonomy, which required that
candidates must not have engaged in immoral (literally ‘disgraceful’) acts.22
However this criterion was revoked in Law No. 12/2008, the second amendment of
the law on Regional Autonomy.23
In addition to these legal measures to promote behaviour acceptable to Islam,
there has been repeated and widespread action by Islamic religious organisations

20
For further academic analysis of the law, see for example Sherlock (2008) and Lindsey (2008).
21
Julia Perez had a reputation for dressing sexily and for employing erotic dance moves (Jakarta
Post 8 July 2010) while Maria Eva, a member of the Golkar party, was having a widely-publicised
affair at that time another political Golkar party member (Jakarta Post 8 July 2010).
22
In defining what he saw as constituting an immoral act, Gamawan Fauzi specifically mentioned
gambling, adultery and pornography (Republika 20 April 2010).
23
A number of other attempts have been made to introduce legislation to control particular forms
of behaviour. For example, in February 2012, Minister of Religion and head of PPP, Suryadharma
Ali, proposed a bill to ban the sale of alcohol throughout the country, arguing that the consumption
of alcohol led to crime and road accidents. His attempt to manage the sale of alcohol built on
Presidential Decree No. 3/1997 on Supervision and Control of Alcoholic Drinks, which limits the
the sale of beverages containing more than 5 % alcohol to hotels, restaurants, nightclubs and duty-
free shops (Antara 16 February 2012).
Behaviour and Dress in Indonesia 143

such as Lasykar Jihad, the Islamic Defenders’ Front (Front Pembela Islam, FPI) and
the Indonesian Mujahidin Council (Majelis Mujahidin Indonesia, MMI) against
‘un-Islamic’ behaviour. This action has included attacks on nightclubs, disco-
theques and houses allegedly used for prostitution (Azra 2006: 194; Hasan 2002;
Rabasa 2003), particularly during the month of Ramadan. At this time, Muslims are
expected to avoid eating, drinking and sexual activity during the day, to act
respectfully and to engage in additional acts of worship. In addition, however,
tropes such as ‘respecting Muslims’ (menghormati umat Islam) or ‘interfering with
religious practice’ (mengganggu pelaksanaan ibadah) have been used in recent
years to justify the imposition of limits on particular activities, not only those of less
observant Muslims, but of non-Muslims as well.
Importantly, in the context of this discussion, behaviour and dress have been a
major focus of regulations introduced at the local level in many parts of the
archipelago. Some of the most controversial local regulations have been introduced
in the District of Tangerang, a major manufacturing area immediately west of
Jakarta. In the city of Banten, for example, Local Regulation No. 8/2005 on Anti-
Prostitution criminalised any person loitering suspiciously on streets, playing fields,
in hotels or dormitories, residential areas, coffee shops, amusement centres or
theatres, street corners or other public places, as well as acts of intimacy in public
places that might arouse sexual excitement. Under the regulation, a woman could
also be arrested on the grounds that her appearance raised suspicions of her being a
prostitute (Allen 2009; Sherlock 2008).
Regulations on behaviour and dress have attracted strong criticisms within
Indonesia from those who feel that while Islam is the religion of the majority of
Indonesians, there need to be strong safeguards for non-Muslims who believe that
different forms of conduct and dress are acceptable. This is especially so, they argue,
because Indonesia is not an Islamic state. Moreover, critics suggest, Islam itself is
not monolithic. Last but not least, they argue that regulations on behaviour and dress
are a waste of resources in the face of issues like corruption, unemployment and
poverty (Candraningrum 2006: 1). Despite these criticisms, however, local regula-
tions have remained in place in Tangerang, West Sumatra and elsewhere.
As a result of these kinds of controversies, the National Directorate General of
Regulation and Legislation in the Ministry of Law and Human Rights announced in
2010 that local regulations were to be examined to determine whether or not they
contravened national laws (Kemenhunkam 2010). However, to date there has been
little progress on this front, partly as a result of a lack of effective mechanisms
through which the national government can regulate regional lawmakers.

Behaviour and Dress in West Sumatra

Historically, ‘un-Islamic’ behaviour has been more politicised in West Sumatra than
in any other Indonesian region. This is largely as a result of the Paderi movement of
the early nineteenth century, which, as explained in Chap. 2, was strongly
144 6 Behaviour and Dress

influenced by Wahhabism. Dominant for a period of around 30 years (Hadler

2008a, b), the movement banned traditional practices such as cock-fighting, card-
playing, the smoking of opium, the chewing of betel and the consumption of
alcohol. Participation in Islamic rituals was compulsory, and men were expected to
grow their beards and were not allowed to wear silk clothes. Women were expected
to cover their faces (Radjab 1954: 16). These practices were enforced in the
movement’s strongholds. For example, according to Radjab (1954: 16), one of the
Paderi leaders, Tuanku nan Renceh, killed his aunt for chewing betel. In perhaps
their greatest attack on Minangkabau culture, the early Paderi leaders, Haji Miskin,
Haji Sumanik and Haji Piobang declared matrilineality to be against Islamic
teachings. The Paderi movement later burned longhouses (rumah gadang) and
challenged the matrilineal elite (Hadler 2008a: 24).24
The matrilineal inheritance system of the Minangkabau may have survived the
Paderi movement, but it came under attack in the early twentieth century from Syaikh
Ahmad Khatib, a Minangkabau who taught many Indonesian students at the end of
nineteenth century in Mecca (Abdullah 1985). Syaikh Ahmad Khatib declared that
the adat inheritance law constituted a deviation from the teachings of Islam, and that
he would never return from Mecca as long as the system persisted—a vow he kept,
dying in 1916 without ever having returned to West Sumatra (Abdullah 1985).
In an attempt to find a middle way, students of Syaikh Ahmad Khatib belonging
to the Kaum Muda movement, such as Haji Rasul, Muhammad Jamil Jambek and
Sulaiman Ar-Rasuli, reinterpreted his teachings, declaring that the distribution of
land inherited under the adat system (harta pusako or pusako tinggi) could remain
matrilineal while the distribution property deriving from parents’ own efforts (harta
pencaharian or pusako rendah) should follow the rules of the Islamic inheritance
system (Abdullah 1985). This interpretation came to be accepted by both adat and
Islamic leaders.25
After independence, local attempts to regulate behaviour in West Sumatra were
subordinated to national trends—although Kahin (1999: 123) shows that the 3
March Affair, an attempted coup by Muslim militias against the local republican
government in 1947 was caused by, among other things, the ‘luxurious and
immoral’ behaviour of higher ranking officers in the government. Similarly, while
local officials appointed by the national government adopted the policy on
behaviour according to Jakarta’s terms in the New Order period, some pressure to
maintain Islamic behaviour and dress remained locally within West Sumatra. For
example, when the New Order government prohibited the wearing of the veil in

24
The enforcement of Islamic behaviour decreased with the temporary defeat of Wahhabism in
Mecca in 1820 and the subsequent fall of the Paderi movement in 1837.
25
This position was later confirmed in a seminar on land and inheritance in West Sumatra
organised by the Association of Indonesian Judges (Ikatan Hakim Indonesia, IKAHI) in 1968. The
seminar, attended by leading thinkers including Buya Hamka, Professor Hazairin, Professor
Nasroen and Bustanul Arifin, resolved to continue the solution promoted by the Kaum Muda
movement between harta pusako and harta pencaharian (Naim 1979: 120).
Behaviour and Dress in West Sumatra 145

public schools, the ban was not applied in West Sumatra (Interview with Busta-
nuddin Agus, MUI member, 20 September 2008).
In the post-Suharto era, behaviour and dress have once again become the main
focus of Islamic public discourse in West Sumatra. The collapse of the authoritarian
New Order regime initially increased freedom of expression at both national and
regional levels. However, with regional autonomy came an atavist focus on local
culture, both real and imagined (Wee 2002). Faced with the pressures resulting
from the 1997–98 Asian Financial Crisis, regional governments in West Sumatra
turned their focus to the question of behaviour and dress, which represented a
relatively easy way to convince the community that it was addressing the ‘social
ills’ (maksiat) that the province was experiencing, in comparison to the more dif-
ficult tasks of addressing social and economic inequality.

The Public Discourse of Behaviour and Dress

At least four significant terms are used in relation to the discourse on behaviour and
the wearing of the jilbab in West Sumatra. The first is ‘morality’ (moralitas). The
notion of morality is fundamental to the overall model of regional development
adopted by local authorities. According to local officials, every patron must act
morally, as must every client.
The second term of note is ‘unsettling the community’ (meresahkan masyara-
kat). The authority with which this nebulous accusation is levelled has two main
implications. On the one hand, it leaves no room for those being accused of ‘un-
Islamic’ behaviour to explain their actions. On the other hand, it effectively pro-
vides a blanket justification for policy measures adopted by regional governments
when pre-empting or dealing with such actions.26
The third term that regularly arises in discussions of behaviour and dress in West
Sumatra is ‘social ills’ (penyakit masyarakat), often used in conjunction with its
Arabic translation maksiat. This catch-all term is used to accord regional govern-
ments—and ‘upstanding’ individuals within the community—the authority to do
anything necessary in order to rescue ‘society’ from these ills.
The fourth construct in this cluster is a more specific one, which links the jilbab
with local culture by identifying it as part of customary regional dress (jilbab
sebagai pakaian daerah). This clearly fallacious association—Minangkabau tra-
ditional forms of headdress are very distinctive, and certainly not remotely like a
jilbab (which first adopted in the 1980s)—is a key example of the way in which
contemporary Middle Eastern norms have begun to be incorporated not just into
contemporary Indonesian practice, but into collective memories of past practice.

26
As noted above, during Ramadan, a number of more specific versions of this construct are
employed, such as ‘interfering with Islamic worship’ (mengganggu Pelaksanaan Ibadah Umat
Islam) or ‘not respecting Muslims’ (tidak menghormati Umat Islam).
146 6 Behaviour and Dress

Like the justifications of other elements of Islamic regulation in terms of the phi-
losophy ‘Adat Basandi Syarak Syarak Basandi Kitabullah’, the association of
particular Islamic forms of dress with Minangkabau culture is important not
because of its veracity (or, for that matter, its lack thereof) but because of the moral
authority it lends to the matter at hand. It is expected that the population of West
Sumatra will be loyal to regional culture and thus fully responsive to all exhorta-
tions to ensure that characteristics of that regional culture are maintained (even
where they are invented) in the interests of regional development. Indeed, as is
demonstrated below, ‘jilbab sebagai pakaian daerah’ has been described by local
leaders as being fundamental to the success of West Sumatra as a decentralised
region.
The connection between Islamic behaviour and dress and Minangkabau culture
has been constantly reaffirmed in the public statements of these officials. As Zai-
nuddin Tanjung, the head of MUI in Bukittinggi, expressed it:
Non-Islamic behaviour that appears to be rampant in our present day society destroys our
city’s image as part of the Minang heartland, characterised by the philosophy ‘Adat Basandi
Syarak Syarak Basandi Kitabullah’ (Posmetro Padang 27 January 2010).

As Zainuddin’s comments suggest, a second theme in such statements is the

impact on the image of West Sumatra’s cities more generally. When discussing the
closure of restaurants during the day in Ramadan, Fauzi Bahar, the Mayor of
Padang, observed:
There is no need to be afraid to act on what we have collectively agreed upon, especially as
the sellers are also Muslims. This is clearly unreasonable and it is fair to take action against
it. If not dealt with immediately, the sellers will engage in worse and worse behaviour,
creating a bad precedent for this city, which is famous for its religiosity (Posmetro Padang
1 September 2009).

Irvianda Abidin, the head of the Bukittinggi branch of the High Council of
Minangkabau Culture (Majlis Tinggi Kerapatan Adat Alam Minangkabau,
MTKAAM) made a similar observation in relation to the celebration of Valentine’s
Day:
It is most ironic that in a region that claims to hold faith and Islamic law in the highest
esteem, Valentine’s Day, which is clearly forbidden for Muslims, is celebrated. In addition
to creating competition among those seeking a desirable partner, this celebration encour-
ages social ills and is tantamount to fornication (Posmetro Padang 15 February 2009).

As in this instance, ‘un-Islamic’ behaviour is very often identified as a direct

source of crime, and its prevention as an important means of maintaining public
order. For example, Rosmita Rustam, the head of the police department in the
district of Pesisir Selatan, claimed that ‘Alcoholic drinks have become triggers for
other crimes’ (Padang Ekspres 11 February 2009). On another occasion, she
asserted that ‘The seizure of alcohol increases security in the community. It is well
known that alcoholic drinks are sources of crime’ (Posmetro Padang 1 December
2008). Similarly, Bambang, the head of the police department in the district of
Dharmasraya asserted that:
Behaviour and Dress in West Sumatra 147

If the community had a deep understanding of the negative impacts of gambling, they
would go to great lengths to avoid it. Besides ruining the economic prospects of the family,
gambling interferes with the security and order of the community (Posmetro Padang 7 June
2009).

Socially unacceptable behaviour, moreover, is seen to be contagious. As Gus-

rizal Gazahar, the head of the fatwa department of the regional MUI, commented in
relation to prostitution:
Prostitutes are a social ill that must be the subject of a serious eradication campaign. If
prostitution is allowed to continue, it will damage the mentality and the morality of the
community. This social ill must be eradicated so that it does not spread (Padang Ekpres 12
August 2010).

As in Tangerang, the risks of prostitution have been cited in West Sumatra as a

justification for attempts to forbid women from going out at night without a male
relative from their immediate family circle (muhrim).
Women and girls have also been a major focus of campaigns on Islamic dress,
which have also focused on security. Fauzi Bahar claimed that the obligation
imposed on schoolgirls attending state schools to wear the jilbab helped keep them
safe, since it would prevent muggings and robberies. In his words, ‘the city of
Padang has become free of muggings since its women have been covered’ (SCTV
Topik Minggu 9 August 2006). More practical reasons are also put forward for
imposing Islamic dress on schoolchildren. In the same statement, Fauzi claimed that
the obligation would also save poorer students from the embarrassment of not
having enough jewellery to display (since the jilbab covers their necks and arms),
which might otherwise make them reluctant to attend school. It would also, he said,
protect them from the malaria-carrying aedes aegypti mosquito.
The introduction of Islamic dress standards for women is, however, not just a
matter of security and protection from mosquito-borne diseases. It is also, it is
claimed, a vital part of the preservation of West Sumatra’s image. According to
Irwan Prayitno, the Governor of West Sumatra:
The clothing donned by a woman is not only just something that covers her body. Clothing
also reflects a person’s characteristics, from their level of education, to their work, their
culture and their behaviour. It is for this reason that the people of West Sumatra have not
lost their identity. The people of this region are famous for their religiosity and their strong
culture. Don’t destroy that by appearing in such a way that would change other people’s
perceptions (Haluan 27 July 2011).

As this statement implies, women bear the dual burden of maintaining their self-
respect and ensuring that Minang people collectively continue to be respected by
others.
Women’s cultural responsibilities are also a recurring theme in public statements
about social roles more generally, which position them as the primary custodian of
family values and local customs. Mahyeldi Ansharullah, the Vice Mayor of Padang,
echoed this position, claiming that ‘women’s role is very important to the quality of
family life’ (Padang Today 21 April 2010). Indeed, as he iterated a year later:
148 6 Behaviour and Dress

In the life of the household, the respective strengths of women and men must be combined
to produce quality families filled with happiness, love and mercy. Such families protect
against ongoing increases in the divorce rate as a result of the lack of synchronicity
(sinkronisasi) between husbands and wives (sumbaronline 21 April 2011).

In addition to supporting the family, according to Fauzi Bahar, women’s role in

the household has a deep and decisive effect on policy making, an interpretation
that echoes New Order discourse on the role of women as helpmates. On the
occasion of the twelfth anniversary of the regional Dharma Wanita in 2011, Fauzi
observed:
We hope that with this twelfth anniversary Dharma Wanita can become even greater and
progress further. With its progress, there will automatically be progress in the regional
governments as well, since the development of regional governments is 35 % in the hands
of officials’ wives. Those who play a role in the development of the officials of Padang City
are the wives of [officials like] the Mayor, the Vice Mayors, the Regional Secretary and the
heads of department in the regional governments (Padang Today 16 December 2011).

In the words of Bustari, the head of the information sub-unit of the Ministry of
Education and Culture in Padang:
According to local customs, women have responsibility for the household. Local customs
have never forbidden women to develop themselves in other ways. However, they must not
forget their roles as women (cimbuak 17 November 2004).

Statements about behaviour and dress, and the importance, for Minangkabau
people, of following Islamic norms, intensify each year during Ramadhan. Some-
times such statements are very general, reminding members of the community to
respect Ramadhan and to fulfil their obligations as Muslims, and therefore as Minang
and as members of the West Sumatran community. As Djufri, the Mayor of Buki-
ttinggi, urged residents of his city, ‘Do not blemish this holy month even once with
activities that transgress religious norms, local customs and regional laws’ (Posmetro
Padang 26 August 2008). At other times, statements are more specific references to
official actions designed to ensure that Muslims can complete their fast in the best
possible conditions.27 As one example, Saifuddin Ansyori, the head of operational
administration in the Sawahlunto district police department, announced that:
In order to provide comfort to Muslims in Sawahlunto city as they complete the fast in the
approaching month of Ramadhan, the police department will conduct an operation to
eradicate social ills such as the consumption of alcohol, gambling and the use of narcotics
(Posmetro Padang 24 August 2008).

The statements of these local stakeholders demonstrate the increasing use of

Islamic terms in regional discourse on behaviour and dress, a discursive develop-
ment that is strongly reflected in regulatory practice at the provincial and district
levels.

27
Recall also the provisions on Qur’anic classes and pesantren Ramadhan, described in Chap. 5.
Behaviour and Dress in West Sumatra 149

Local Government Policy on Behaviour and Dress

Between 2001 and 2011, a number of regional Islamic regulations have been
introduced to deal with social ills and Islamic dress. The first local regulation,
known as the ‘Perda Sharia’, was passed in 2001, in the first year of the imple-
mentation of Regional Autonomy. Provincial Regulation No. 11/2001 on the Pre-
vention and Eradication of Social Ills. It prohibited behaviour such as adultery,
fornication, gambling and the use of alcohol and narcotics. Initially, the bill also
included a provision for a curfew for women out without a male member of their
immediate family after nine at night, but after a heated debate at both the regional
and national level, this provision was dropped (Ranperda Pelarangan dan Pem-
berantasan Maksiat 26 June 2001; The Jakarta Post 21 August 2010).
Some local regulations took an even broader view of the concept of ‘social ills’.
While Provincial Regulation No. 11/2001 defined social ills as adultery, fornication,
gambling and the use of alcohol and narcotics, Local Regulation No. 3/2004 on the
Prevention, Prosecution and Eradication of Social Ills in Padang Panjang and Local
Regulation No. 2/2004 on the Prevention, Prosecution and Eradication of Social Ills
in Padang Pariaman suggested that it meant any behaviour that was displeasing to
the community because it contravened religious or customary norms. Local Reg-
ulation No. 19/2006 on the Prevention and Eradication of Social Ills in Sawah
Lunto Sijunjung included in the category any act disturbing religious observances.
In 2002, Gamawan Fauzi proposed Local Regulation No. 6/2002 on Islamic
Behaviour in Solok, which sought to regulate dress for men and women. The
regulation obliged Muslim men to wear trousers and clothes with short or long
sleeves and women to don clothes with long sleeves covering their hips, trousers or
long skirt to their ankles and jilbab covering their hair, necks, ears, the back of their
head (pundak) and chests, stating that ‘the function of Islamic dress for men and
women is to maintain self-respect and the respect of others, to maintain the wearer’s
identity as a Muslim and to eliminate threats and harassment from other people’.
However the observance of correct Islamic dress was also designed ‘to illustrate
that someone or some community… is preserving their local customs’.
The initiatives of Gamawan Fauzi and the provincial parliament stimulated a
rash of legislation concerning behaviour and dress in other districts in West
Sumatra. A year later, Local Regulation No. 22/2003 on Islamic Dress was passed
in Pasaman, which again associated veiling with local custom. Taking a slightly
different tack, rather than describing the jilbab as a form of pakaian adat (which, as
pointed out earlier, does not reflect its history in West Sumatra), Local Regulation
No. 5/2003 on the Obligation to Wear Islamic Dress in Lima Puluh Kota described
it as being inspired by the regional philosophy of ‘Adat Basandi Syarak, Syarak
Basandi Kitabullah’.
In addition, the regional governments of West Sumatra implemented a range of
policies designed to give local cultural practices a more Islamic face. As has occurred
in many other parts of Indonesia, the use of the Islamic greeting, ‘Assalamu’alaikum’,
or ‘Peace be upon you’, has changed in recent years. In the past, the greeting was
150 6 Behaviour and Dress

routinely followed by other religious greetings such as ‘Salam Sejahtera’ when

Christians were likely to be present in the audience and ‘Om Shanti Shanti’ when
Buddhists were present. Now, however, it is regularly seen as applying to all
members of an audience indiscriminately.28 Regional officials have also discontinued
the practice of acknowledging the religious celebrations of officials of other faiths, for
example, by saying ‘Merry Christmas’ to a Christian official. These and other forms
of everyday practice reinforce the dominant culture of the region and emphasise the
importance of the Islamic power bases of the regional governments of West Sumatra
in the post-Suharto period.
Within this regulatory and political context, it is not surprising that there have
been several cases in which instances of ‘un-Islamic’ behaviour have been
denounced by regional governments, especially during Ramadan. In September
2008 in Bukittinggi, a mobile cart serving food in Ramadan was removed by the
Pamong Praja Police Sub-Unit (Satpol PP), leading to protests from the sellers
(Posmetro Padang 2 September 2008). Four students having lunch were also taken
to the police office in the same city in September 2009 (Padang Ekspres 9 Sep-
tember 2009). Moreover, in September 2011, two striptease dancers at the Cafe and
Resto Fellas in Padang were arrested and subsequently sentenced to one and a half
years’ imprisonment by the local court (Padang Ekspres 17 February 2012).
Islamic and other social organisations have also engaged in ‘independent’
enforcement of Islamic regulations in West Sumatra. For example, the Pancasila
Youth (Pemuda Pancasila, PP) raided the Sari Rasa Restaurant in Padang for
serving food during the day in Ramadan, even though the owner had permission
from the regional government to open the restaurant (Posmetro Padang 3 Sep-
tember 2009).29 The Forum for Enforcement of Islamic Law (Forum Penegak
Syariat Islam, FPSI), headed by Irvianda Abidin, has also been very active in
enforcing regulations concerning behaviour and dress. In 2009, for example, Irvi-
anda Abidin and his followers disrupted the Valentine’s Day celebration organised
by Yamaha in Padang, forcing the committee of the event to remove the term
‘Valentine’ from their promotional materials and activities (Posmetro Padang 15
February 2009).
Unlike the regulations and policies on Islamic finance, zakat and Islamic edu-
cation discussed in previous chapters, which have had little impact on non-Mus-
lims, the regulations on behaviour and dress have had a considerable effect on West
Sumatran society as a whole. In terms of dress, non-Muslim women are not for-
mally required to wear a jilbab, but they cannot show parts of their body such as the

28
This tendency is not restricted to strongly Muslim provinces. At an international conference in
the majority Christian province of North Sulawesi in 2011, prayers were offered by a local pastor,
but the Muslim head of the organising committee, who had travelled from Jakarta to attend the
conference, used ‘Assalamu’alaikum’ without any other greeting when addressing the delegates.
This was despite the fact that the conference was hosted by the local (resolutely Christian)
government (Personal communication, Michele Ford).
29
In Padang, restaurants are allowed to open for non-Muslim customers during the day in
Ramadan, but in practice there is no mechanism for preventing Muslims from eating there as well.
Behaviour and Dress in West Sumatra 151

navel, thigh or their cleavage.30 In terms of behaviour, although non-Muslims

receive some dispensation, for example, permission to eat during Ramadan, they are
subject to other prohibitions including bans on the consumption of alcohol, gam-
bling and prostitution.

Conclusion

As this chapter has shown, discourse on Islamic behaviour and dress in West
Sumatra in the post-Suharto period is strongly influenced by Middle Eastern
practice, even though it is underpinned by a putative connection to regional cultural
identity. This reflects a broader trend in Muslim-majority regions in Indonesia, a
trend that represents a significant departure from both traditional practice, in which
a range of types of clothing were considered to be acceptable within Islam and
behaviour was less tightly controlled, but also to government policy and social
norms in the 1970s and early 1980s, when Indonesia was strongly influenced by
transnational reactions against veiling and other forms of overtly Islamic dress and
behaviour after the Iranian revolution.
During that earlier period, devout women who chose to veil were sometimes
faced with the choice of failing to fully meet their religious obligations as they
understood them, or risking exclusion from particular aspects of public life, albeit to
a lesser extent than in some other Muslim-majority societies. However, as a con-
sequence of this more recent shift, the space available to Muslims—and especially
women—to make their own choices about their behaviour and dress has narrowed
even further. Moreover, unlike other areas of Islamic regulation, which have not
had a particularly strong impact on people of other faiths living in West Sumatra,
regulations on behaviour and dress have clearly affected the everyday lives of non-
Muslims in the province, as well as those of their Muslim neighbours.

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Chapter 7
Conclusion

Since the demise of the New Order government in 1998, the role of ideology in
Indonesian politics has been gradually redefined. In place of the New Order ide-
ology of secular developmentalism (which had replaced the anti-imperialism and
radical nationalism of Guided Democracy), the role of Islam has greatly increased.
In recent Indonesian political history, Islam has been the dominant ideological
player. Religiosity, and the public expression of Islamic values, is a more important
part of community life than ever before in post-independence Indonesian history,
but attempts to move Indonesia in the direction of an Islamic state have met with
little success at the national level. Where Islam has succeeded in making its mark on
Indonesian politics in recent years is in the introduction of regulations based on
Islamic beliefs and practices at the provincial and district levels. Decentralisation
has given regional governments the authority to align local legislation with areas of
Islamic practice that have never before been regulated by the Indonesian state.
This is not to suggest that the state was previously disengaged with Islam.
As this book has shown, Islam has long been a focus, at times incorporated and at
others excluded in response to changing social and political circumstances.
As Chap. 2 has demonstrated, in the pre-colonial era, the adoption of Islam enabled
indigenous states to participate in international trading routes dominated by
Muslims. During the colonial period, Dutch suspicion of Islam as a potential
ideological base for anti-colonial resistance meant that Islamic networks were
severely circumscribed, and the authority of locally-based adat law was given
precedence in the administration of justice over Islamic principles.
Denied any association with the colonial legal or education systems, Islam found
fertile ground in its association with the Indonesian nationalist movement from the
early twentieth century, establishing international links through the participation of
Indonesian Muslims in Pan-Islamic networks and providing an alternative model of
modernity to the secular institutions of colonialism. When colonialism collapsed
with the Japanese invasion and occupation of Indonesia between 1942 and 1945,
Islam strengthened its political position through its support of the anti-westernism
that was a fundamental aspect of Japanese imperial ideology. Islamic social and
military organisations established under the Japanese played a significant role in the
national revolution, and after the Dutch recognised Indonesia’s independence in

© Springer International Publishing Switzerland 2015 155

D.P. Salim, The Transnational and the Local in the Politics of Islam,
DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-15413-8_7
156 7 Conclusion

1949, Islamic organisations and political parties were well placed to play a sig-
nificant role in the political and social life of the new Indonesian Republic. Polit-
ically marginalised by Sukarno and his left-wing allies in the first half of the 1960s,
Islamic parties and social organisations again swept to the fore in the early years of
the New Order, when they were seen by the regime as militant bastions of anti-
communism. Throughout the New Order period, Islam’s political role waxed and
waned, but Suharto’s decision to enter into close association with Islamic political
figures and intellectuals in the later years of his rule again placed Islam in a position
to benefit from changes to Indonesian political and social life in the post-1998
Reform Era.
The main concern of the thesis has been to show that the introduction of Islamic
regulations by regional governments in the post-New Order era has been a product
of a new iteration of interaction between international, national and local elements
that has characterised the relationship between Islam and politics throughout the
course of Indonesian history. The interaction of these three elements figures con-
sistently in all the case studies examined in the book: Islamic finance, zakat,
education, and behaviour and dress, through different periods of history and under
significantly varied political circumstances. In existing studies, the Islamic regu-
lations instituted in recent years have tended to be seen as either the result of the
influence of transnational Islam or as locally-generated initiatives in response to
particular regional or national circumstances. As this book has argued, however,
both approaches overlook the complexity and continuous interaction between local
Islamic politics and developments in the wider Islamic world. In other words, the
book has argued that local forms of Islam must be seen as flexible and subject to
change in line with transnational developments in the Islamic world, even as local
elements continue to play an important part in the political manifestations of
Indonesian Islam.
The example of West Sumatra shows that there is a complex process of inter-
action between local agency, national concerns and international interactions. It
emerges in a wide range of responses, from accommodation of global practices to
challenges and modification of them. The establishment of Islamic banks and zakat
institutions, as well as the endorsement of particular types of Islamic behaviour and
dress, are examples of ways in which institutions and ideas originating from
transnational Islam have been accommodated to local circumstances in West
Sumatra, rather than being direct adoptions of Wahhabi or Salafi modes of social
action. They represent new institutions and practices that have evolved in response
to local political circumstances and transnational models, the same pattern that has
characterised the development of Indonesian Islam throughout history.
The book has illustrated the variety of challenges and modifications to global
Islamic practices that the West Sumatran regulations have incorporated. The use of
collateral in the regulation of loans from Islamic banks is one such example, as is
the collection of zakat from all government employees regardless of the threshold
for zakat payments that applies in other Islamic countries. In Islamic education,
local influences have been responsible for the introduction of the chanting of the
Asmaul Husna, the 99 names of God, while in the case of dress, the wearing of
7 Conclusion 157

brightly-coloured jilbab can be seen as deriving from traditional forms of dress in

West Sumatra. As the book has argued, the endorsement of Islamic behaviour
according to transnational principles is the one major area where recently-instituted
regulations have departed from local Islamic norms.

Transnational Factors

Transnational factors influencing the nature of Islamic regulations in West Sumatra

have mainly originated from Saudi Arabia, Malaysia and the Organisation of
Islamic Cooperation (IOC). As Chap. 3 has shown, the OIC has played a major role
in creating networks, conferences and centres designed to spread Islamic financial
systems throughout the wider Islamic world. It has been supported in this
endeavour by increasing oil welfare in the Gulf states, which not only provides the
means for promoting these systems in countries with large Islamic populations
outside the Middle East, but also supplies a pool of investors looking to invest
capital through Islamic financial institutions. In Southeast Asia, Malaysia, with its
close proximity to West Sumatra and its well-established Islamic financial systems,
has played an important intermediary role in this development. It has provided
assistance to West Sumatra in terms of networks, experts and materials in the local
development of Islamic financial systems. It has also served as a model for the
development of Islamic tourist destinations, such as that envisaged in Padang
Pariaman.
Chapter 4, on the practice of zakat, has also demonstrated the key role of the OIC
in propagating zakat institutions throughout the Islamic world. In cooperation with
local zakat institutions in Islamic countries such as Kuwait, Saudi Arabia, Lebanon
and Malaysia, the OIC has sponsored a series of international conferences on zakat
that have been designed to promote and assist with the institutionalisation of zakat
in countries outside the Middle East. The OIC has also published books and articles
on zakat which receive wide distribution throughout the Islamic world. As Chap. 4
notes, Southeast Asian countries such as Indonesia, Malaysia, Singapore and
Brunei Darussalam have responded to these initiatives with the establishment of the
Zakat Council of Southeast Asia (Dewan Zakat Asia Tenggara, DZAT), a regional
centre for the promotion of zakat in Southeast Asian countries.
Chapter 5, which deals with Islamic education, has shown that oil welfare has
also been responsible for an increase in Middle Eastern support for projects
designed to further the development of forms of Islamic education among Islamic
communities. Saudi Arabia in particular has played an important role in the
development of Islamic schools in Indonesia. The Institute for Islamic and Arabic
Sciences (Lembaga Ilmu Pengetahuan Islam dan Arab, LIPIA) in Jakarta has
produced thousands of Islamic and Arabic teachers who are now active throughout
the country. Large numbers of Indonesian Muslims now also undertake study
programs in Middle Eastern countries that are funded by a variety of agencies based
in Saudi Arabia, Kuwait and Egypt, as well as through scholarships provided by the
158 7 Conclusion

World Muslim League and the OIC, through the Islamic Development Bank
(ISDB). The number of West Sumatran students graduating from Middle East
educational institutions, and the establishment of Islamic schools such Ar-Risalah
in Padang by these returning graduates, is an illustration of the influence of Middle
East countries in education in West Sumatra.
Chapter 6 has also demonstrated the significant role of transnational influences
on the promotion of Islamic behaviour and dress in Indonesia as a whole and West
Sumatra in particular. Wahhabi organisations in Saudi Arabia and the Muslim
Brotherhood Movement in Egypt have been important sources of materials pro-
moting the relationship between behaviour and forms of dress and religious and
political identity, as has been post-revolutionary Iran. The association of religious
and political identity with behaviour and dress suggests that this particular aspect of
transnational influence is driven by the need to assert a polarisation between Islam
and the West, an influence that may be inimical to the maintenance of aspects of
local practice. As an example, this chapter points to Middle Eastern influence as the
source of changes to regional Minangkabau costume that replace the traditional
headdress for women with the wearing of the jilbab.

National Factors

International factors have contributed to the development of Islamic regulations in

West Sumatra. However, this book has shown that national elements also play an
important role. National influence may have waned since the fall of Suharto, but the
central government has continued to exert some influence over the regulation of
Islamic affairs.
As Chap. 3 has shown, national policies on Islamic financial systems have played
important role in the development of the various Islamic financial systems introduced
in West Sumatra. Branches of national Islamic banks have been established in the
province, while a regional micro-financing system, Baitul Mal waTanwil (BMT), has
also been introduced as part of the effort to combat poverty, supervised by the national
Ministry of Cooperatives and Small and Medium Enterprises. Similarly, Takaful, a
system of Islamic insurance managed by the Ministry of Finance, is another national
initiative operating at the local level. Islamic courts overseen by the Indonesian
Supreme Court also manage the adjudication of disputes in regional Islamic financial
practices. In addition, policies issued by the Reserve Bank of Indonesia and the
National Syari’a Council of the Indonesian Council of Ulamas (Majelis Ulama
Indonesia, MUI) regarding Islamic financial practices also affect local regulations in
West Sumatra.
Chapter 4 has shown that policies on zakat at national level have also been
influential in the development of zakat institutions in West Sumatra. Indonesian law
requires regional governments to establish government zakat institutions (BAZDA)
and to collect and distribute the proceeds of zakat, the outcomes of which must be
reported to the national government zakat institution, BAZNAS. West Sumatra is
National Factors 159

also linked to national private zakat institutions through the establishment of

regional branches of organisations such as the National Humanitarian Foundation
(Pos Keadilan Peduli Umat, PKPU). The Forum Zakat in Jakarta is also involved in
initiatives designed to improve the standard of zakat practices in West Sumatra.
In the field of Islamic education, the subject of Chap. 5, national policies have
had a similar impact in West Sumatra. Regional Islamic educational institutions are
managed by the Ministry of Religion, in association with the administration of
public schools by the Ministry of Education. Another area in which national law
affects local level Islamic education is in the certification of teachers. Indonesian
law mandates that Islamic teachers at public schools throughout the country must be
graduates of Islamic tertiary education institutions, a regulation that obliges pro-
spective teachers in regional areas to enrol in recognised Islamic universities,
institutes and colleges. This national policy has attracted students wishing to
become teachers in public schools into faculties of education at local Islamic
institutions.
Chapter 6 has demonstrated that the national factor has played an important role
in the development of regional regulations on behaviour and dress in West Sumatra.
The national government not only supports the regulation of behaviour and dress, it
has also failed to intervene in cases involving the prohibition of certain types of
behaviour by provincial and district administrations. The Ministry of Religion
promotes particular interpretations of appropriate Islamic dress and behaviour
through its authorised translation of the Qur’an, just as it also manages the conduct
of marriage in the regions. National-level Islamic courts also have authority over
Islamic inheritance for Muslims at the local level. The national law on pornography
has also had an impact on the regulation of behaviour in regional areas, especially
in relation to dress and sexual orientation.

Local Factors

Although it is clear that transnational Islam and national factors have both influ-
enced the emergence of Islamic regulations in West Sumatra, this book has argued
that the local elements have in fact played a dominant role in this process, albeit one
mediated by the influences of these other levels. The introduction of local Islamic
regulations can in many cases be viewed as attempts by local politicians and
officials to use Islam as a means of gaining or maintaining power, including the
power to make people act in certain ways. While transnational Islam provides the
materials, forms and networks that enable the formulation of Islamic regulations,
and the national government exerts its authority in areas prescribed by national law,
regional autonomy has opened up new opportunities for local politicians and offi-
cials to harness Islam as a means of furthering their own political and financial
interests.
As Chap. 3 has shown, it has been in the development of Islamic financial systems
in West Sumatra that the interests of local actors have been most readily apparent.
160 7 Conclusion

Poverty and unemployment remain high, especially within the uncertain financial
climate of recent times. In this situation, the call for new and equitable financial
systems has become a political issue which local authorities have been able to take
advantage of through the introduction of Islamic financial regulations that can be seen
as a response to local circumstances and local needs. In addition, regional govern-
ments have introduced the Islamic financial systems in the expectation that they will
be able to utilise Islamic financial systems in building economic relations with, and
attracting tourists from, wealthy Islamic countries. In these social and economic
circumstances, the discourse on Islamic financial systems points to their potential as a
means of opening up opportunities for participation in economic activities on the part
of the majority of the local population, for limiting the impact of external financial
crises, and for attracting new investment from other Islamic countries.
West Sumatran regional governments have also actively promoted the notion
that Islamic financial systems are implicated in the regional philosophy ‘Adat
Basandi Syarak, Syarak Basandi Kitabullah’ (ABS-SBK), which asserts an integral
relationship between Islam and traditional Minangkabau social and cultural norms.
As such, local politicians and officials have argued that even though Islamic
financial systems were only introduced into Indonesia in the 1990s, they have long
existed in both the spirit and the application of local financial practices. Thus, even
though Islamic financial systems presently contribute only around 5 % to the
regional economy, local politicians and officials are able to assert that they are the
most appropriate forms of financial practice for the future development of the West
Sumatran economy. Further, as Chap. 3 demonstrates, these financial practices have
enabled regional governments to direct funding towards the interests of the majority
of the population, an important means of garnering electoral support.
The dominance of local factors has also been demonstrated in the discussion of
regional regulations on zakat in Chap. 4. The introduction of regulations on zakat
has been justified in terms of local issues such as efforts to combat poverty and
unemployment, as well as the need to position the local economy to be able to
respond to recurrent natural disasters such as floods and earthquakes. In the light of
these social and economic factors, the discourse on zakat becomes part of local
policies in the field of social welfare. The book argues, however, that politics of
zakat plays a more important role than its social and economic meanings. In their
endorsement of zakat, regional governments have explicitly stated that rather than it
being their responsibility to allocate funds from secular taxes to reduce poverty, it is
the responsibility of wealthy Muslims to alleviate the poverty of their fellow
Muslims through the payment of zakat. This standpoint is clearly designed to
reduce the financial burden regional governments bear in the management of
poverty alleviation programs. Equally important, zakat also provides a mechanism
that enables regional governments to distribute funds to a majority of the local
population, an obvious means of attracting and maintaining electoral support.
Local factors are also dominant in the area of Islamic education. As discussed in the
discourse on Islamic education in Chap. 5, local elites are aware that the representation
of West Sumatrans among the national political elite has greatly declined since the
early post-independence period. They see the expansion of Islamic education at the
Local Factors 161

local level as a means of redressing this decline. The chapter also suggests that there is
concern within the community about children’s behaviour, and Islamic education is
seen as a means of enforcing standards of behaviour and respect for the authority of
teachers and parents that is lacking in the public school system. In other words, Islamic
education provides local governments with a framework for articulating regional
cultural identity and deflecting responsibility for the management of social problems.
At the same time, like the institution of zakat, it offers a direct means of garnering
political support from communities looking for solutions to local needs and issues of
concern.
Chapter 6 follows the other case study chapters in arguing that local factors are
dominant in regional governments’ engagement with matters to do with behaviour
and dress. The political discourse on moral issues, which focuses on crime against
women and the negative impacts of gambling and the consumption of alcohol,
provides regional governments with the opportunity to promote religiously-based
solutions to moral issues, rather than engage in the more challenging task of
addressing the social and economic problems that are manifested in a perceived
decline in moral standards. In this respect, regional governments in West Sumatra
have opted to link Islamic behaviour and dress with regional philosophy and
identity and to present this association as a solution to perceived social ills. As is the
case with other Islamic regulations, the association of Islamic norms with regional
culture not only enables regional governments to present themselves as guardians of
public morality but also as bastions of regional identity in the face of negative
influences imported from the West. However, just as regulations on zakat absolve
regional governments from their responsibilities in the area of poverty alleviation,
regulations on behaviour and dress deflect attention from the real causes of crime
and anti-social behaviour.

The Politics of Islam in West Sumatra

A major theme in this book has been that the Islamic regulations introduced in West
Sumatra in recent years have been generated by social and economic factors
independent from the religious motives often seen to underlie the phenomenon of
Islamisation. Local Islamic regulations first appeared in contemporary Indonesia in
the period following the 1997 Asian Financial Crisis, when increases in poverty and
unemployment drew attention to the problem of financial ethics and the need for
alternative models of social and economic security. In this light, zakat emerges as a
community-based system of wealth-sharing that is independent of the policies and
budgetary decisions of the national government. Similarly, regulations dealing with
Islamic education, and attempts to promote behaviour and dress consistent with
Islamic ethics should be seen as local responses to social issues brought about by
financial and political crises and the upheavals and transitions that have followed in
their wake.
162 7 Conclusion

As this book has also demonstrated, the discourses that have accompanied
Islamic regulation in West Sumatra have used particular interpretations of Islamic
ethics to legitimise politically-motivated policy, to marginalise non-Muslims and to
undermine the role of women in society. The marginalisation of non-Muslims is
particularly noticeable in policies that justify Islamic regulations in terms of their
supposed association with regional identity and philosophy (ABS-SBK). With the
exception of policies on zakat (which have no impact on non-Muslims in any case),
Islamic regulations in West Sumatra have been promoted as manifestations of
regional identity, thus denying non-Muslims a basis for an identity as West
Sumatrans and to some extent exclude them from participation in the economic life
of their community. As shown in Chap. 3, while Muslims still use conventional
banks, the introduction of regulations on Islamic finance mean that resources are
increasingly being transferred to institutions under the control of Muslims. Simi-
larly, Chap. 5 has shown that funding for education has been focused on Islamic
education to the detriment of other educational institutions in West Sumatra.
Finally, the association of ABS-SBK with behaviour and dress has enforced par-
ticular constructions of Muslim standards and practices on all citizens, including
non-Muslims, especially during Ramadan.
Although Islam has manifested in different forms in the changing socio-political
contexts of West Sumatra, the discourse on Islamic regulation in recent years has
rested on an essentialised notion of Islam and its supposed manifestation in tradi-
tional Minangkabau culture. Despite the philosophy of ABS-SBK, the ideological
basis of Islamic regulation in West Sumatra has become increasingly fixed in a
monolithic understanding of Islam, rather than the flexible interpretation of Islamic
norms that had earlier enabled the Minangkabau to find a distinctive accommo-
dation between Islam’s patriarchal orientations and the matrilineal basis of their
own tradition. Thus, while local factors have been significant in bringing about
Islamic regulations, their discursive underpinning owes more to the political
accommodation with external realities and the need to maintain power and influ-
ence than with the evolving religio-cultural matrix in West Sumatra. In this sense, it
may be argued that Syaria-oriented Islam has become more influential than the
more deeply-rooted traditions of acculturation and gradual change.
This material covered in this book forms only a small part of the bigger picture
of the relationship between Islam and local politics in Indonesia, namely the
pragmatic application of religious norms to social and economic interests. For this
reason, it needs to be considered in conjunction with academic work focussing on
politics, as well as studies dealing with the social and political contexts of religious
expression. At the same time, however, this study has reduced the gap between
studies of Islamisation, which position it within trends within the global Islamic
community, and studies of Islam in local politics. Having shown that the motives
lying behind the introduction of Islamic regulations in West Sumatra are complex
and intertwined, this book confirms that both transnational and local factors must be
considered if we are to fully understand the drivers and manifestations of the
politics of piety in Indonesia.
Appendix A
Newspaper Articles

Antara-Sumbar
‘140 Investor Dubai Intip Peluang Investasi di Padang.’ 2 August 2009.
‘Tim Ahli Perkumpulan Investor Dubai Kunjungi Padang.’ 15 April 2009.
‘Sumbar Bentuk Gerakan Bersama Berantas Maksiat.’ 17 March 2011.

Haluan
‘Sikat Maksiat di Ranah Minang.’ 29 September 2011.

Ikhlas Beramal
‘Dijen Bimas Islam Luncurkan Desa Binaan.’ Nasaruddin Umar. June 2009.

Investor Daily Indonesia

‘BI Gunakan Sukuk untuk Pengelolaan Likuiditas Syariah.’ 23 August 2011.

Jakarta Post
‘Fresh Sex Scandal Rocks House.’ 8 July 2010.
‘Julia Perez Banned in Pekanbaru.’ 8 December 2008.
‘Pluralism rally provokes intimidation.’ Fitri, E. 30 April 2006.
‘Porn bill dividing people down faith lines.’ Fitri E. 22 March 2006.
‘Saudi Arabia Eyes Special Relationship with RI: Envoy.’ Anjaiah V. 30 September
2009.
‘Sharia Bylaws Bring only Symbolic Change.’ 20 August 2010.
‘Sharia Bylaw Find Hurdles in West Sumatra.’ 21 August 2010.

Kompas
‘Dewan Zakat Asia Tenggara Dibentuk.’ 14 November 2007.
‘Perempuan Sumatera Barat Dalam Posisi Disudutkan.’ Yurnaldi. 6 August 2001.

Koran Tempo
‘RUU Zakat dan Kesejahteraan Ummat.’ Wibisono Y. 14 Mei 2010.

Padangkini
‘24 Perda Sumbar Dipermasalahkan Depkumham.’ 21 May 2010.

© Springer International Publishing Switzerland 2015 163

D.P. Salim, The Transnational and the Local in the Politics of Islam,
DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-15413-8
164 Appendix A: Newspaper Articles

Padang Ekspres
‘1 Muharram Bisa Jadi Momentum Ekonomi Syariah.’ 30 December 2008.
‘1.017 Pelajar Dhuafa Dapat Beasiswa.’ Ilham Saputra. 31 August 2008.
‘Anggaran Perubahan, Keluarga Miskin Diasuransikan.’ Gayatri GA. 5 April 2010.
‘Asmaul Husna di FES.’ Zikriniati. 21 March 2009.
‘Bank Nagari Disuntik Rp 1,3 Miliar.’ Vesky FR. 27 October 2011.
‘Bank Umum Syariah Sumbar: Perlahan tetapi Pasti.’ Gaffari Ramadhan. 18 June
2010.
‘BAZ Bukittinggi Salurkan Zakat Lebih Awal.’ Tanjung N. 12 March 2010.
‘Bazda Serahkan Beasiswa.’ 2 November 2008.
‘Bertekad Realisasikan Kerjasama Bidang Pariwisata.’ 27 January 2012.
‘Berzakat lebih Afdhol Lewat Amil.’ Romealis Akbar. 16 September 2008.
‘Depag Tertarik Sistem Pendidikan Islam di Tanah Datar.’ Akmal M. 13 Mei 2009.
‘Disiplin Guru Pesantren Ramadhan Diperketat.’ Rahmi Amalia. 30 July 2009.
‘Ekonomi Islam: Memantapkan Aqidah, Memakmurkan Umat.’ Mizlana.
17 December 2010.
‘Formis Ancam Sweeping Ahmadiyah.’ Anita Z. 13 November 2008.
‘Golongan II Dihimbau Bayar Zakat.’ 12 August 2006.
‘Investor Dubai Belum Tindak Lanjut MoU.’ Rahmi Amalia. 8 September 2009.
‘Kepercayaan Kepada BAZ Mulai Luntur.’ Edison Janis. 26 August 2010.
‘Manfaatkan Bank Syariah.’ Romeo Rissal Pandjialam. 19 November 2010.
‘Mendesak, Perda Miras di Pessel.’ Adri S. 11 February 2009.
‘Mengoptimalkan PAI di Sekolah dan PTU.’ Muhammad Kosim. 20 April 2010.
‘Menyoal Kembali Zakat sebagai Pengurang Pajak.’ 20 September 2008.
‘MUI Sumbar: PSK Harus Ditindak Agar tak Menular!.’ Adri S. 12 August 2010.
‘Pendidikan Berlandaskan Iman dan Takwa.’ 18 February 2010.
‘Pendidikan Bernuansa Surau di Sekolah.’ Muhammad Kosim. 14 Mei 2010.
‘Penetapan 1 Syawal Tunggu Pemerintah.’ Afrianingsih. 29 September 2008.
‘Perda Zakat tak Memaksa.’ 30 April 2010.
‘PinjamanKu: Menjangkau Rakyat secara Nyata.’ Romeo Rissal Pandjialam.
5 March 2010.
‘PNS Berat Hati Keluarkan Zakat.’ Nur Akmal. 15 June 2009.
‘Potensi Zakat PNS Padang Rp. 60 M Pertahun.’ Sanny Ardy. 29 June 2009.
‘Ranah Minang dan Syariah yang Terenyahkan.’ 11 June 2010.
‘Sebanyak 2.200 Lansia di Agam, Tujuh Orang Pra Sejahtera.’ Edison Janis. 3 June
2009.
‘Syariah Menjangkau Rakyat.’ 30 July 2010.
‘Tetapkan 1 Syawal Ormas Dikumpulkan.’ Afrianingsih. 30 September 2008.
‘Usung Ekonomi Syariah Atasi Tengkulak.’ 7 Mei 2010.
‘Wako: Pesantren Ramadhan Antisipasi Asmara Subuh.’ Sanny Ardhi. 1 September
2009.
‘Warga Sumbar Pecah Kongsi.’ Zikriniati. 20 March 2009.
‘Zakat Award, Strategy Meningkatkan Potensi Zakat.’ Akmal M. 6 January 2010.
Appendix A: Newspaper Articles 165

Padang Today
‘2010, Target Zakat Padang R. 13 M.’ Hayati H. 18 May 2010.
‘Bazda Alokasikan Beasiswa R. 2,5 M.’ Hayati H. 26 May 2010.
‘BI Gelar Seminar Strategi Membangun Sumbar Pasca Gempa.’ 26 November
2009.
‘Cacat Moral Tak Bisa Nyalon Pilkada.’ 21 April 2010.
‘Kedepan Warga Padang Wajib Bayar Zakat karena Perda.’ Hayati H. 10 April
2010.
‘Keluarga Minang Amerika Salurkan Bantuan.’ 26 November 2009.
‘Krisis Untungkan Syariah: Nasabah BNI Naik 50 Persen.’ Zikriniati. 20 November
2008.
‘MES Gelar Seminar Nasional Ekonomi Syariah.’ 7 February 2010.
‘Pansus Ranperda Zakat akan Belajar ke Bandung.’ Hayati H. 9 April 2010.
‘Pesantren Ramadhan, Hemat Rp. 24,6 M.’ 10 September 2009.
‘Romeo Rissal: Pertumbuhan Ekonomi Sumbar Terendah.’ 7 February 2010.
‘Sektor Riil, Unggulan Ekonomi Syariah.’ 7 February 2010.
‘Sistem Ekonomi Syariah Sudah Ada di Padang Pariaman Sejak Dulu.’ 27 Sep-
tember 2009.
‘Sosialisasi Ekonomi Islam Perlu di Tingkat SMA dan SLTP.’ 17 December 2008.
‘Sumbar Miliki Modal Penting Menuju Ekonomi Syariah.’ 7 February 2010.
‘Sumbar Potensial Penerapan Sistem Ekonomi Syariah.’ 28 September 2009.
‘Syarat tak Pernah Berzina, tak perlu Diperdebatkan.’ 22 April 2010.

Posmetro Padang
‘BAZ Agam Salurkan Beasiswa.’ Arian T. 26 Mei 2010.
‘BI Gelar Seminar Strategi Membangun Sumbar Pasca Gempa.’ Musfi Yendra.
26 November 2009.
‘BNSy Menerapkan Prinsip Keislaman Dalam Transaksi Keuangan.’ Sriwahyuni.
17 January 2009.
‘Camat dan Lurah Diminta Tuntaskan Warga Berjualan Siang Hari.’ Sriwahyeni.
1 September 2009.
‘Guru Berprestasi Diberi Hadiah Naik Haji.’ Lesmana D. 30 Mei 2009.
‘Hak Semua Warga Dapatkan Pendidikan Baik.’ Salim I. 31 March 2010.
‘Jelang Ramadhan, Pekat Diberantas.’ Hendri N. 24 August 2008.
‘Judi Rusak Ekonomi Keluarga.’ Tibrani. 7 June 2009.
‘Pengelolaan Zakat Sebaiknya Dikelola Pemerintah.’ Agustini S. 8 September 2009.
‘Penyitaan Miras Demi Meningkatkan Keamanan.’ Lesmana D. 1 December 2008.
‘Perda Maksiat Tak Berfungsi.’ Hidayat F. 27 January 2010.
‘Perkembangan Iptek harus Diimbangi dengan Nilai-nilai Islam.’ Efa Nurza. 14
August 2010.
‘Sistem Syariah Strategis untuk Pengembangan Ekonomi Daerah.’ Erinaldi. 28
March 2009.
‘Uang Transportasi untuk Orang Miskin.’ 17 March 2009.
‘Zakat, Pegawai Instruksikan Data Warga Miskin.’ 8 September 2009.
166 Appendix A: Newspaper Articles

Republika
‘Nasib Lembaga Amil Zakat di Indonesia.’ Hamid Almisar. 5 June 2009.
‘Syarat Tidak Cacat Moral bagi Calkada Bukan untuk Jegal Calon Tertentu.’ 23
April 2010.

Singgalang
‘Apel Akbar Santri Didikan Subuh se-Agam.’ 30 December 2008.
‘Bank Syariah Butuh 9.000 Karyawan.’ 6 December 2010.
‘Banyak Generasi Muda tak Pandai Baca Alquran.’ 20 December 2008.
‘Bapaduo-Bapatigo dan Sistim Syariah.’ HISY Dt. Rangkayo Basa. 19 December
2010.
‘BMT Menyentuh Seluruh Aspek Kehidupan Masyarakat.’ 31 December 2008.
‘Celana Ketat, Jilbab Seadanya Gaya berpakaian Muslimah mengkhawatirkan.’ 10
December 2010.
‘Didik Anak Sesuai Syariat Islam.’ 30 December 2008.
‘Ekonomi Syariah di Singapura dan di Mata Indonesia.’ Marwan Zein. 18
September 2008.
‘Generasi Muda dan Bahaya Narkoba.’ Marjohan. 18 January 2010.
‘Membangun Surau Mahasiswa.’ Mochtar Naim. 30 November 2008.
‘Pakaian Ketat Haram.’ 28 August 2010.
‘Praktik Katabelece Marak: Moral Siswa Makin Buruk.’ 1 December 2010.
‘Sistem Ekonomi Kita Abu-abu.’ Syawaldi. 19 October 2008.
‘Tantangan Ekonomi Syariah dan Peranan Ekonom Muslim.’ Agustianto.
25 September 2008.

Sumbar-Online
‘Mahyeldi: Peran Perempuan Harus Bersinergi.’ Sumbar-Online. 21 April 2010.
Appendix B
Islamic Laws and Regulations

National Laws and Regulations

UU No. 22/1946 tentang Pencatatan Nikah, Talak dan Rujuk (Law No. 22/1946
on Registration of Marriage, Divorce and Reconciliation)
PP No. 1/PNPS/1965 tentang Pencegahan Penyalahgunaan dan/atau Penodaan
Agama (President Regulation No. 1/PNPS/1965 on Defacement of Religion).
UU No. 5/1992 tentang Perbankan (Law No. 5/ 1992 on Banking).
UU No. 38/1999 tentang Pengelolalaan Zakat (Law No. 38/1999 on Zakat
Management).
UU No. 20/2003 tentang Sistem Pendidikan Nasional (Law No. 20/2003 on
Indonesian Educational System).
UU No. 44/2008 tentang Pornography (Law No. 44/2008 on Pornography).
UU No. 23/2011 tentang Pengelolaan Zakat (Law No. 23/2011 on Amendment of
Zakat Management).

Local Regulations
Perda No. 9/2000 Kota Bukittinggi tentang Penertiban dan Penindakan Penyakit
Masyarakat (Regulation No. 9/2000 on Prevention and Eradication of Social Ills
in the Bukittinggi City).
Perda No. 11/2001 Propinsi Sumatera Barat tentang Pencegahan dan Pember-
antasan Penyakit Masyarakat (Regulation No. 11/2001 on Prevention and
Eradication of Social Ills in the Provincy of West Sumatra).
Perda No. 10/2001 Kabupaten dan Kota Solok No. 10/2001 Tentang Wajib Baca
Al-Qur’an untuk Siswa dan Pengantin (Regulation No. 10/2001 on Qur’anic
Literacy for Students and Candidates of Brides and Brooms in Solok regency).
Perda No. 6/2002 Kabupaten dan Kota Solok tentang Wajib Berbusana Muslimah
(Regulation No. 6/2002 on Islamic Dress in Solok District).
Perda No. 1/2003 Kabupaten Sawahlunto/Sijunjung tentang Kewajiban Pandai
Membaca Al-Quran Bagi Anak Usia Sekolah, Karyawan/Karyawati dan Calon
Mempelai (Regulation No. 1/2003 on Qur’anic Literacy for Students, Workers
and Candidates of Brides and Brooms in SawahLunto/Sijunjung).
Perda No. 2/2003 Kabupaten Sawahlunto/Sijunjung tentang Berpakaian Muslim dan
Muslimah (Regulation No. 2/2003 on Islamic Dress in Sawahlunto/Sijunjung).

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DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-15413-8
168 Appendix B: Islamic Laws and Regulations

Perda No. 5/2003 Kabupaten Lima Puluh Kota tentang Kewajiban Berpakaian
Muslim dan Muslimah (Regulation No. 5/2003 on Islamic Dress in Lima Puluh
Kota District).
Perda No. 6/2003 Kota Padang tentang Pandai Baca Tulis Al-Qur’an (Regulation
No. 6/2003 on Qur’anic Literacy in Padang City).
Perda No. 6/2003 Peraturan Daerah Kabupaten Lima Puluh tentang Kewajiban
Pandai Baca dan Tulis Al-Qur’an bagi Anak Sekolah dan Calon Penganten
(Regulation No. 6/2003 on Qur’anic Literacy for Students and Candidates of
Brides and Brooms in Lima Puluh Kota District).
Perda No. 13/2003 Kota Solok tentang Pengelolaan Zakat, Infak dan Shadaqoh
(Regulation on Zakat, Infak and Shadaqoh Management in Solok District).
Perda No. 22/2003 Kabupaten Pasaman tentang Berpakaian Muslim dan Muslimah
bagi Siswa, Mahasiswa dan Karyawan (Regulation No. 22/2003 on Islamic
Dress for students and workers in Pasaman District).
Perda No. 31/2003 Kabupaten Pesisir Selatan tentang Pengelolalan Zakat
(Regulation No. 31/2003 on Zakat Management in Pesisir Selatan).
Keputusan Bupati No. 26/2003 Lima Puluh Kota tentang Pengelolaan Zakat
(Decision of Regent No. 26/2003 on Zakat Management in Lima Puluh Kota).
Perda No. 48/2003 Kabupaten Pasaman tentang Pandai Baca Tulis Huruf
Al-Qur’an bagi Murid SD, Siswa SLTP, Siswa SLTA, Mahasiswa dan Calon
Penganten (Regulation No. 48/2003 on Qur’anic literacy for primary, secondary
and tertiary students and candidates of Brides and Brooms in Pasaman District).
Perda No. 2/2004 Kabupaten Padang Pariaman tentang Pencegahan, Penindakan
dan Pemberantasan Masyarakat (Regulation No. 2/2004 on the prevention and
eradication of social Ills in Padang Pariaman District).
Perda No. 3/2004 Kota Padang Panjang tentang Pencegahan, Pemberantasan dan
Penindakan Masyarakat (Regulation No. 3/2004 on the prevention and eradication
of social Ills in Padang Panjang District.
Perda No. 8/2004 Kabupaten Pesisir Selatan tentang Kewajiban Pandai Baca dan
Tulis Al-Qur’an dan Mendirikan Shalat Bagi Anak Sekolah dan Calon Pengantin
Yang Beragama Islam (Regulation No. 8/2004 on Qur’anic literacy and prayer’s
observance for students and candidates of Brides and Brooms in Pesisir Selatan
District).
Perda No. 29/2004 Kota Bukittinggi tentang Pengelolaan Zakat (Regulation
No. 29/2004 on Zakat Management in Bukittinggi).
Perda No. 5/2005 Kabupaten Agam tentang Pandai Baca Tulis Al-Qur’an
(Regulation No. 29/2004 on Qur’anic literacy in Agam District).
Perda No. 6/2005 Kabupaten Agam tentang Berpakaian Muslim (Regulation
No. 6/2005 on Islamic Dress in Agam Regency).
Perda No. 10/2008 Kota Payakumbuh tentang Kewajiban Pandai Membaca
Al-Qur’an bagi Anak Sekolah dan Calon Pengantin (Regulation No. 10/2008 on
Qur’anic literacy for students and candidates of Brides and Brooms in Paya-
kumbuh District).
Perda No. 2/2010 Kota Padang tentang Pengelolaan Zakat (Regulation No. 2/2010
on Zakat management in Padang City).
Abbreviations and Glossary

AAOIFI Accounting and Auditing Organisation for Islamic Financial

Institutions
ABS-SBA Adat Basandi Syarak Syarak Basandi Adat (local customs are
based on Islam and Islam is based on local custom)
ABS-SBK Adat Basandi Syarak, Syarak Basandi Kitabullah (local customs
are based on Islam and Islam is based on the Qur’an)
ADIA Akademi Dinas Ilmu Agama (Academy for Islamic Education)
AKP Adalet ve Kalkınma Partisi (Justice and Development Party
(Turkey)
Azas tunggal Pancasila as the sole foundation for all social and political
organisations
Bagi hasil Profit-sharing
BAKIN Badan Koordinasi Intelijen Negara (National Intelligence
Organisation)
BAZDA Badan Amil Zakat Daerah (Regional Government Zakat
Institution)
BAZIS Badan Amil Zakat Infak dan Sedekah (Agency for zakat, charity
and alms)
BAZNAS Badan Amil Zakat Nasional (National Government Zakat
Institution)
BI Bank Indonesia (Reserve Bank of Indonesia)
BKPUI Badan Kontak Perjuangan Umat Islam (Contact Body for the
Struggle of the Islamic Community)
BMI Bank Muamalat Indonesia
BMT Baitul Mal waTanwil (Islamic Micro Finance Institution)
BNI Syariah Bank Negara Indonesia Syariah (Shari’a Divison of the Indo-
nesian National Bank)
BPRS Bank Perkreditan Rakyat Shari’a (Islamic Rural Bank)
BPUPKI Badan Usaha-usaha Persiapan Kemerdekaan Indonesia (Prepa-
ratory Body for Indonesian Independence)
BP-UZIS Badan Pelaksana Urusan Zakat, Infak dan Sedekah (Collecting
Body for Zakat, Charity and Alms)
Burqa Body covering of the kind worn in contemporary Afghanistan

© Springer International Publishing Switzerland 2015 169

D.P. Salim, The Transnational and the Local in the Politics of Islam,
DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-15413-8
170 Abbreviations and Glossary

BSM Bank Syariah Mandiri

DDII Dewan Dakwah Islamiyah Indonesia (Indonesian Islamic Prop-
agation Council)
DISBA Daerah Istimewa Sumatera Barat (Special Autonomous Region
of West Sumatra)
DPRD Dewan Perwakilan Rakyat Daerah (regional parliament)
DZAT Dewan Zakat Asia Tenggara (Zakat Council of Southeast Asia)
Fatwa Islamic decree
FPI Front Pembela Islam (Islamic Defenders’ Front)
FPSI Forum Penegak Shariat Islam (Forum for Enforcement of
Islamic Law)
GCIBFI International Islamic Centre for Reconciliation and Commercial
Arbitration and General Council of Islamic Banks and Financial
Institutions
GEBAK Gerakan Bersama Anti Komunisme (Joint Movement against
Communism)
Gebu Minang Gerakan Seribu Minang (Lit. Movement of a Thousand of
Minang, the Minangkabau Migrant Organisation)
Hanura Hati Nurani Rakyat (People’s Conscience Party)
HSBC Amanah Shariah Business Unit of the Hong Kong and Shanghai Banking
Corporation Limited
HMI Himpunan Mahasiswa Islam Indonesia (Indonesian Islamic
Students’ Association)
HT Hizbut Tahrir (Liberation Party)
IAIN Institut Agama Islam Negeri (State Institute for Islamic Studies)
ICMI Ikatan Cendekiawan Muslim Indonesia (Indonesian Association
of Muslim Intellectuals)
IDB Islamic Development Bank
IFSB Islamic Financial Services Board
IIFM International Islamic Financial Market
IIRA International Islamic Rating Agency
IRTI the Islamic Research and Training Institute
ISF Islamic Solidarity Fund
ITB Institut Teknologi Bandung (Bandung Institute of Technology)
IZO International Zakat Organisation
Jilbab or hijab An Islamic garment for women that leaves only the face and
hands exposed
KAN Kerapatan Adat Nagari (Village Adat Council)
Kaum Muda (lit. Group of the Young, referring to Reformist Muslims in the
early twentieth century)
Kaum Tua (lit. Groups of Elders, referring to traditional Muslim leaders in
opposition to the Kaum Muda movement)
Kerudung Outer garment that covers the woman’s head and shoulders
Abbreviations and Glossary 171

KHI Kompilasi Hukum Islam (Compilation of Islamic Law)

KISDI Komite Indonesia untuk Solidaritas Dunia Islam (Indonesian
Committee for Solidarity with the Muslim World)
KKM Kongres Kebudayaan Minangkabau (Minangkabau Culture
Congress)
KNI Komite Nasional Indonesia (Indonesian National Committee)
LDK Lembaga Dakwah Kampus (Body for Islamic Propagation on
Campus)
LEPPA Lembaga Pembina Pendidikan Agama pada Perguruan Tinggi
(Supervisory Institute for Islamic Education in General
Universities)
LIPIA Lembaga Ilmu Pengetahuan Islam dan Arab (Institute for Islamic
and Arab Sciences)
LKAAM Lembaga Kerapatan Adat Alam Minangkabau (Minangkabau
Adat Consultative Body)
Maksiat A term associated with ‘social ills’ such as prostitution, adultery,
the consumption of alcohol and immodest dress
MAPK Madrasah Aliyah Program Khusus (Islamic Special High
School)
Masyumi Majelis Syuro Muslimin Indonesia (Council of Indonesian
Muslim Associations)
Merantau leaving one’s nagari or village, a concept traditionally applying
primarily to the practices of young men who left the homeland in
search of wealth, knowledge and skills before returning to
establish a family
MIAI Majlis Islam A-la Indonesia (Indonesian High Islamic Council)
MITM Majlis Islam Tinggi Minangkabau (Minangkabau High Islamic
Council)
MMI Majelis Mujahidin Indonesia (Indonesian Mujahidin Council)
MPN Musyawarah Pembangunan Nagari (Village Development Dis-
cussion Bodies)
MTKAAM Majlis Tinggi Kerapatan Adat Alam Minangkabau (High
Council of Minangkabau Culture)
Mutawwa’in Committee for the Promotion of Virtue and the Prevention of
Vice (Religious Police)
Muwahhid Lit.one who professes God’s unity (term used by the Wahabists
for their movement)
Nagari A term that means both village and state
Niqab A total body covering, revealing only the eyes and palms of
hands
NKK Normalisasi Kehidupan Kampus (Normalisation of Campus
Life)
172 Abbreviations and Glossary

P4 Pedoman Penghayatan dan Pengamalan Pancasila (Pancasila

indoctrination Guidelines)
Perda Peraturan Daerah (Local Regulation)
Paderi A term derived from Pedir or Pidie, the part of Aceh where
Malays set out on and returned from the pilgrimage
PAN Partai Amanat Nasional (National Mandate Party)
Pancasila Five principles enshrined in the constitution that form ideolog-
ical basis of the Indonesian state: belief in God; nationalism;
humanitarianism; social justice; democracy
Pari Partai Republik Indonesia (Republic of Indonesia Party)
Parmusi Partai Muslimin Indonesia (Indonesian Muslim Party)
PBB Partai Bulan Bintang (Crescent and Star Party)
PDI Partai Demokrasi Indonesia (Indonesian Democratic Party, later
PDIP)
PDIP Partai Demokrasi Perjuangan Indonesia (Indonesian Democratic
Party—Struggle)
PDRI Pemerintah Darurat Republik Indonesia (Emergency Govern-
ment of the Indonesian Republic)
Pengajian Islamic religious classes in which Muslims recite and study the
Qur’an
Permesta Perjuangan Semesta (Universal Struggle)
Permi Persatuan Muslim Indonesia (Association of Indonesian
Muslims)
Pesantren Private Islamic boarding schools
PGA Pendidikan Guru Agama (Islamic Schools for Teacher
PII Pelajar Islam Indonesia (Indonesian Muslim Students)
PK Partai Keadilan (Justice Party, later PKS)
PKB Partai Kebangkitan Bangsa (National Awakening Party)
PKI Partai Komunis Indonesia (Indonesian Communist Party)
PKK Pemberdayaan dan Kesejahteraan Keluarga (Family Empower-
ment and Welfare Agency)
PKPU Pos Keadilan Peduli Umat (Justice Post concerning Muslim
Society)
PKS Partai Keadilan Sejahtera (Prosperous Justice Party)
PKU Penolong Kesengsaraan Umum (Hardship Relief Agency)
PNI Partai Nasional Indonesia (Indonesian National Party)
PP Pemuda Pancasila (Pancasila Youth)
PPP Partai Persatuan Pembangunan (United Development Party)
PRRI Pemerintah Revolusioner Republik Indonesia (Revolutionary
Government of the Indonesian Republic)
PSI Partai Sosialis Indonesia (Indonesian Socialist Party)
PSII Partai Sarekat Islam Indonesia (Indonesian Islamic League
Party)
Abbreviations and Glossary 173

PTAIN Perguruan Tinggi Agama Islam Negeri (State Academy for

Islamic Studies)
PTI Persatuan Tarbiyah Islamiyah (Association of Islamic Schools)
Pusaka rendah (lit. low inheritance, referring to individual inherited property)
Pusaka tinggi (lit. high inheritance, referring to the communal inherited
property)
Qur’an The central religious text of Islam, considered the literal word of
God revealed through the Prophet Muhammad
Rantau The region outside the Minangkabau heartland
Riba Interest, sometimes translated as usury
SAAM Sarekat Adat Alam Minangkabau (Adat Association of the
Minangkabau World)
Salafi Lit.one who follows the ways of the first Muslim generation
(Like muwahhid, the term is sometimes used by the Wahhabists
to describe their movement)
Santri A term used to describe pesantren students
SARA Suku, Agama, Ras dan Antargolongan (ethnic, religious, racial
and class relations)
Satpol PP Satuan Polisi Pamong Praja (Pamong Praja Police Sub-Unit)
SBI Sertifikat Bank Indonesia (Conventional bond)
SBIS Sertifikat Bank Indonesia Syariah (Islamic bond)
SBSN Surat Berharga Negara Syariah (Islamic bond)
SDI Sarekat Dagang Islam (Islamic Traders’ Association)
SDI Srikandi Demokrasi Indonesia (Srikandi Indonesian Democracy)
SDSB Sumbangan Dermawan Sosial Berhadiah (Social Charity Dona-
tion with Prizes)
Sektor Riil The ‘real’ economy
SGHA Sekolah Guru Hakim Agama (School for Religious Judges)
SI Sarekat Islam (Islamic League)
STAIN Sekolah Tinggi Agama Islam Negeri (State Islamic College)
STOVIA School tot Opleiding van Indische Artsen (Indies Medical
Institute)
SU Sarekat Usaha (Enterprise Association)
SWBI Sertifikat Wadiah Bank Indonesia (Islamic bond issued by the
Bank of Indonesia)
Takaful Islamic insurance
Tambo Minangkabau historical chronicle
UIN Universitas Islam Negeri (State Islamic University)
UKM Usaha Kecil Menengah (small-medium enterprise)
Umma Worldwide Islamic community
174 Abbreviations and Glossary

Wahhabism A term that refers to doctrine that belief in God was not enough
to make one a Muslim and that one must worship God purely
and exclusively because worship of any being other than God is
idolatry (shirk)
Wujudiyah The cyclic ontology of divine self-manifestations such as the
universe is seen as ‘a series of neo-platonic emanations’ and
each of these emanations is considered as an aspect of God
himself
YABMP Yayasan Amal Bhakti Muslim Pancasila (Pancasila Muslim
Charity Foundation)