K. van Dijk P. Nas Dakwah and indigenous culture; The dissemination of Islam In: Bijdragen tot de Taal-, Land- en Volkenkunde, Globalization, localization and Indonesia 154 (1998), no: 2, Leiden, 218-235 This PDF-file was downloaded from http://www.kitlv-journals.nl Downloaded from Brill.com09/30/2021 10:57:58AM via free access KEES VAN DIJK Dakwah and Indigenous Culture The Dissemination of Islam Indonesian youth, Vice-President General Try Sutrisno pointed out to his audience when he opened the national congress of the Islamic youth organization Ansor in September 1995, must live up to their own national culture and history. Should they fail in this, their lives could be thrown into chaos by the fast flow of information and the attractions offered by a global lifestyle.1 His speech was just one of many such admonishments that could be read in Indonesian newspapers or watched on TV in recent years. Sometimes actions speak louder than words. Recently a crusade was launched to ban foreign words from public display - lettering on signboards, buildings and the like - resulting in incomprehensible notices in which certain words were covered over by white paint or a white sheet. Warnings against harmful and pervasive cultural and political influ- ences from abroad have become even more frequent of late as the ominous year 2000 draws closer. Sometimes the West is mentioned as the source of such evils; on other occasions it is merely implied. To Muslims in a non- western country it is obvious that it is the West, and in particular the United States, that is meant.2 The people who draw attention to the disruptive effects of globalization are more often than not members of the elite, which, when all is said and done, is partly a military elite. As the aforementioned example indicates, this elite includes four-star generals who are used to lunching or dining in five-star hotels and to whom travelling to the United States, Australia and Europe, to mention only the most far-away destinations, has become routine. It seems exceptional when such admonitions do not come from persons whose daily lives are the perfect illustration of what life in the global village looks like. The poor certainly do not have the money to follow the new lifestyle. The Indo- nesian government's recent 'I love Indonesian food1 campaign, for instance, is aimed at those who have enough money to eat at McDonald's and other restaurants that offer the whole gamut from fast food to French cuisine.3 Not many Indonesians can afford such outings. They have to eat at home or have Indonesian food at warung or food stalls. 1 Republika 12-9-1995. 2 I would have liked to include here a list of Islamic literature in Indonesia published in the past five years or so lashing out at a decadent, egotistical Western lifestyle, but lack of space precludes such aspirations. 3 The Jakarta Post 15-10-1995. BKI154-H (1998) Downloaded from Brill.com09/30/2021 10:57:58AM via free access Dakwah and Indigenous Culture 219 When Indonesians do not use the term 'globalization' to reject western notions of democracy and human rights (which run the risk of gaining a growing following through exposure to international mass media), they usually use it in a cultural and social sense, stressing the consequences for day-to-day behaviour and the dangers threatening Indonesian norms and values. The fear of the supposed implications of globalization and the desire to maintain social tranquillity and to have others preserve a tra- ditional way of life are reminiscent of the attitudes of the colonial Dutch in the first decades of the century, when European education was made accessible to an increasingly wider circle of Indonesians. Describing their outlook, a civil servant, the Resident of Menado, wrote in 1926: 'The Euro- pean who seeks his livelihood in these regions and consequently comes into contact with the native population, can but feel sympathy for the real nagareeman, the simple peasant, who gives him no cause for offence, whom he finds likeable. In the case of the more developed people, his opinion undergoes a change. He views their expressions with more insight, with more understanding, as a kind of impudence, a kind of undesirable intel- lectual trend. He turns his back on these 'so-called' developed people, as he calls them. In his opinion they do nothing but harm. They poison the simple hearts of the tranquil population toiling on the land.'4 This is but one of many examples of the lamentations of the Dutch, confronted with Indonesians who had started to adopt Dutch manners at the close of the last century, though some of the early Indonesian national- ists attempted to distance themselves from too close an association with the colonial administration by describing these manners as international, and even dared to address the Dutch in the Dutch language. New and faster means of communication and the emergence and spread of Malay- language newspapers was instrumental in all this. Nor should the role of the humble bicycle be forgotten. Fitted with pneumatic rather than iron tyres since 1890, and within the reach of an ordinary person's purse only a couple of years thereafter, the bicycle gained enormous popularity. In Europe it became 'the Working Man's Friend' (Briggs 1990:420), and it began its advance in the Archipelago as well. In 1898, in order to prevent Indonesians from suffering sore feet, the Resident of Surabaya generously gave the natives in his charge special permission to wear shoes when cycling. Now they, too, were free to enjoy the new craze that cycling had become. After some time the elation evaporated, and many Indonesians, includ- ing those who had enthusiastically espoused western suits, haircuts and furniture as a mark of emancipation, also began to wonder whether bor- rowing such elements of foreign culture would not put them in danger of losing their own identity. The epoch in which this happened, the first two 4 ARA (Algemeen Rijksarchief) The Hague, MvO (Memorie van Overgave) J. Tideman, 23- 2-1926. Downloaded from Brill.com09/30/2021 10:57:58AM via free access 220 Kees van Dijk decades of this century, was a time of rapid social change. The Dutch were not the only inhabitants in the colony to be baffled by what was happen- ing. Indonesian nationalists and religious leaders were equally perplexed. They wondered where it would end, and whether culture and society as they knew it would not be on the losing side. As anyone who visits Indo- nesia nowadays can witness, their fears were unfounded, western clothing did become accepted, though not in all circles or for every occasion, yet Indonesians have not become imitation westerners. This follows what J.P.B. de Josselin de Jong has noted is one of the basic characteristics of the peoples of the Archipelago, namely their remarkable resilience when con- fronted with 'mighty cultural influences from abroad' (De Josselin de Jong 1935:14). After a period in which foreign civilizations appear to be gaining the upper hand there is a revival of the earlier culture, with old and new elements becoming embedded in a new, unique setting. This happened when Hindu-Buddhism became the prevailing religion, and again after Islam was introduced. Each time, De Josselin de Jong points out, re-'Javanization' followed (De Josselin de Jong 1935:15-20).5 western influences have never succeeded in eliminating Indonesian cultures. They thrive at those moments that are considered to be of special importance in a person's life: at marriage ceremonies for instance, and on religious occasions. Nor have social arid political stability been much affected, as warnings against the dire effects of globalization would imply (though some think otherwise, blaming many of the social wrongs and political opposition in present-day society on exposure to foreign culture). During the last couple of decades an opposite trend has emerged which itself can be linked to faster and easier ways of communication, and appears to belie the worries about an erosion of social norms. As in other Islamic countries, religious life in Indonesia is clearly blooming. In Java, invariably mentioned as an island where Islam has its own distinct 'non- Islamic' features, there is a renewed interest in the lives of the wali songo, the nine saints, to whose religious zeal the initial spread of Islam in the island is attributed. A great deal of attention is devoted to the way the saints disseminated Islam - to their dakwah or missionary activities. A good example of this tendency emerged in the festivities surrounding the opening of the second Istiqlal festival in Jakarta, which ran from the end of September until the middle of November 1995. In the week preceding the opening of the festival by President Soeharto, people in Java had the opportunity to watch two processions. In East Java, the bedug (the large drum about one metre long and seventy-five centimetres in diameter), used to announce the times of prayer at the Sunan Ampel mosque, began its peregrinations by making a tour of the province, travelling from the Sunan Ampel mosque in Surabaya, through such centres as Sidoarjo, Pasuruan, See also note 16. Downloaded from Brill.com09/30/2021 10:57:58AM via free access Dakwah and Indigenous Culture 221 Malang, Blitar, Kediri, Jombang, Mojokerto and back to Surabaya. A few days later the drum was once again mounted on an open truck to be trans- ported to Rembang. There the procession met up with a second procession, which had started its journey in Surakarta.