A nation divided
“We have a different mind from the Westerner. We believe if we put a thing in a cage it’s because we love it.”
Kadek Adi Pramayana, a tour guide from the terraced hillsides of Sidemen in Bali, was referring to the common practice in Indonesia of keeping birds as pets or for competitions. But the cage metaphor was hard to overlook given the recent jailing of Jakarta Gov. Basuki Tjahaja Purnama.
What landed the governor behind bars was not love but a blasphemy conviction, which critics say rests on spurious charges. It sparked vigils around the country from supporters calling for freedom for Ahok, as Mr. Purnama is popularly known. And it’s raising important questions about identity in this multi-ethnic, Muslim-majority nation.
A minority Christian of ethnic Chinese descent, Ahok was convicted of blasphemy against Islam earlier this month and sentenced to two years in prison, a harsher sentence than prosecutor’s requested. The verdict has undermined Indonesia’s reputation for practicing a moderate form of Islam and raised fears, particularly among minorities, that freedom of speech is under threat.
Many of the candlelight vigils took place in parts of Indonesia that are majority non-Muslim, such as the Hindu enclave of Bali or Christian-majority Papua.
Kadek says he is frustrated by the verdict but he’s also quick to dismiss it as political. Ahok’s conviction follows a divisive election in which the blasphemy charges played a decisive factor in his loss to a Muslim. All throughout the campaign, a common refrain went like this: “It’s just politics. It’s not for me to worry about.”
Critics say such sentiment highlights the apathy of the masses. But in a country where 40% of the population still lives on just a few dollars a day, protesting is also a middle-class luxury.
Will Ahok’s conviction change that? How long will people stay engaged after the initial anger dissipates? What will it mean for the future unity of Indonesia and its many minorities?
It seems extreme to say Indonesia, a secular democracy that took pains at its founding to avoid Sharia law, is on its way to becoming an Islamic state. One commentator has even argued that it may play to the advantage of moderate politicians.
But it has exposed a worrying trend among political elites of using religion and ethnic discrimination to win supporters.
In Bali, people I spoke to said Balinese Hindus don’t have the radical views Muslims do. “They are more accepting,” said Kadek. There have even been calls for Ahok to run for governor of Bali in 2018. A banner on the way to the airport with his portrait reads: “Let’s support Ahok. Man of the year who fights for truth and justice.”
Despite the increasing flow to Bali of people from Java and other islands, Kadek isn’t worried much about the impact Ahok’s case could have on him or his home island. The Balinese may be a minority within Indonesia, but they are fiercely protective of their culture and traditions and will resist anything that would deprive them of their dominion over their Bali, he says.
This feeling of devotion to one’s tribe I’ve found again and again throughout my travels around Indonesia. People are Sumbanese before they are Indonesia.
Such views can lead to blatant stereotyping: The Batak are arrogant, the Balinese lazy. Papuans bear the greatest discrimination, but it’s the Javanese who are perhaps the most disdained.
Nearly half Indonesia’s population lives on the packed island of Java, a fertile crescent that is the center of commerce, industry and politics. “Java is a bad example for everything,” Kadek says.
In Christian-majority Sumba in March I had conversations with locals who spoke of feeling like outsiders — being removed geographically and culturally from Java. Ahok’s case confirmed the feeling that certain voices matter more to Jakarta than others, they said, that Indonesia remains a place where not everyone belongs.
>span class="s2">a piece for the Lowy Institute, that Ahok’s conviction “instantly sent a signal that non-Muslims are lesser citizens.”
President Joko Widodo and his administration have made stutter steps to address the concerns, saying they would move to disband Hizbut Tahrir, a global hardline Islamist group. Mr. Widodo has called for unity and pledged to crackdown on groups that go against the state ideology, Pancasilla.
But this fight goes far beyond him. “There are many powerful people all around,” said the owner of a remote guesthouse in Ambon, an island wrought by communal conflict that fell along religious lines.
A fan of Ahok, he says “the law is still not right.”
Since the downfall of autocrat Suharto, who forbid discussions of race, religion and ethnicity, powerful people here have increasingly exploited differences along these lines for political advantage.
Ahok’s case may be the most high-profile example, but that only makes it more worrisome. Speaking to Ahok supporters last week, Acting Jakarta Gov. Djarot Saiful Hidayat called for an end to the vigils and a renewed focus on staying united.
"This is a warning for all of us,” he said.
