Monday, February 27, 2012

Violence in a climate of freedom

 Inside Indonesia, Friday, 10 February 2012 12:26

The political reforms of 1998 have enabled conflicts to emerge and grow

Asep S. Muhtadi



A house in ruins, witness to the violent actions of people who, at least in a formal sense, practise religion. Sections of the roof are gone, and the doors and windows have been smashed by rocks and other projectiles. It is just one reminder of the Cikeusik tragedy, when more than 1000 people joined in attacks on buildings like this and, in the process, tore apart a social milieu that had no previous history of unrest. The people living in this house – according to onlookers, four separate families – had fled in fear of their lives. They were all members of the Ahmadiyah religious community.

What was it that made the Ahmadiyah community subject to this kind of treatment? This question is important, because the violence that occurred in the village of Umbulan, in Cikeusik, a subdistrict of Pandeglang in the province of Banten, was not an isolated incident. Similar events occurred at almost the same time in a number of other regions of Indonesia.

 

The roots of violence

The group that perpetrated the violence on 6 February 2011 seemed to appear out of nowhere, as though driven by a force outside their own control. They appeared to be responding to a call, a sense of devotion that so easily pitted them against another community of believers just like their own. Assailing each other with rocks, insults and accusations, they were soon engaged in all-out warfare that ended up taking the lives of three of the key actors in the affair. Those who survived probably harbour a determination for revenge.

It all happened so easily. But the events that led up to Cikeusik have a long and complicated history. At first sight it seems hard to understand why the attackers appeared just at that time, as though it had all been planned out in advance. The day before, an Ahmadi religious teacher, Suparman, was taken into protective custody on the grounds that steps needed to be taken to prevent anything undesirable from taking place. Some of his followers were apprehended for the same reason. Others were evacuated from the village. They were removed to a location regarded as ‘secure’ in the event of any threats of violence.

At that time, in early 2011, the Ahmadiyah community in Indonesia was a hot topic of debate. At issue was the suspicion that Ahmadiyah was fostering a deviation from genuine Islamic doctrine. A number of prominent Islamic figures added their voice to the concerns, almost all of them declaring Ahmadiyah to be a deviant sect. They called on its followers to disband voluntarily, or else for the sect to be banned. Meanwhile, however, the Ahmadis stood firm, and would not budge from their beliefs. The media joined in, adding to the heated atmosphere with its wide-ranging and frank coverage of the issues at stake.

All this newfound controversy seemed to overlook the fact that Ahmadiyah has been a part of Indonesian Islam since the pre-independence period. For decades its members have lived in harmony with other Islamic groups in various parts of Indonesia, without any major strain in their relationships. They followed separate teachings, but were all part of social environments bound by the local cultures of their regions. They shared the values and beliefs that held communities together, such as the practice of mutual aid (gotong royong), the sense of family, and group solidarity, all of which are reflected in the cultural values of West Java. There were always doctrinal differences between Ahmadis and others over the position of Muhammad as the final prophet, but they did not necessarily lead to tension between Ahmadiyah and other Islamic groups, let alone conflict.

A significant change in this situation began to occur with the outbreak of political reform and political freedom in 1998. In this climate, the free expression of individual rights came increasingly to the fore, not only in relation to political democratisation but also in almost every aspect of social and national life. It affected the democratic process, such as in the horizontal conflicts that now almost always accompany elections of district heads. It enabled spontaneous demonstrations in pursuit of justice, such as those by public transport drivers and factory employees. It changed the lives of communities, as can be seen in the demonstrations that grew out of land disputes in local areas.

It is possible to see these outbursts as the products of a process of political education never before experienced by Indonesian society. The post-1998 freedoms have fallen on such fertile ground that they are now being felt in many different areas of experience, including religious life. And in situations like this, differences in religious practice can produce conflict, especially when one group feels its beliefs oblige them to assert their convictions over those of others. As a result, the diversity of a plural society like Indonesia can change from something to be admired into a source of tension and even violence.

Religious life is especially prone to these tensions. Acts of violence in February 2011 stemmed from tensions felt not only in relations between the Ahmadiyah community and orthodox Muslims in Cikeusik (on 6 February), but also in inter-religious conflict in Temanggung in Central Java (8 February), and Shia-Sunni conflict in Pasuruan, East Java (15 February). This situation has been exacerbated by the introduction of regional autonomy laws, which in many cases seem to have justified moves against adherents of religious beliefs outside mainstream Islam, including the Ahmadiyah sect. These controversies have in turn led to repeated calls for government intervention to curtail Ahmadiyah’s activities, and even to ban the sect altogether.

 

Regulating Ahmadiyah

The government has responded to these demands by issuing regulations relating to the existence of Ahmadiyah in Indonesia. Apart from the joint ministerial statement on Ahmadiyah, issued by the Attorney General and the Ministers of Religion and Internal Affairs on 9 June 2008, the sect has also been the target of a number of bans issued by regional authorities. In 2011, at least three provincial governors – those of Banten, West Java and East Java – issued new regulations restricting or banning Ahmadiyah activities. These have remained in force despite the controversy they provoked. In each of these provinces, these gubernatorial regulations have become part of the legal armoury of those trying to disband Ahmadiyah and curtail its activities.

Under a 1965 law, the government does indeed have the power to prohibit or dissolve any organisation seen to be causing social unrest or vilifying religion. Some groups have argued that on this basis, the gubernatorial regulations relating to Ahmadiyah are entirely appropriate and not in conflict with national law. That type of backing has in turn strengthened the position of the regulations, and provided the anti-Ahmadiyah forces with a sense of legal justification for their actions. Meanwhile, the Indonesian Ahmadiyah Community (Jamaah Ahmadiyah Indonesia, JAI) regards itself as excluded from the process that led to the issuing of the regulations.

There are nevertheless people who regard the regulations targeting Ahmadiyah as infringements of basic human rights. For example the National Commission on Human Rights (Komnas HAM) has declared the Banten Gubernatorial Regulation No. 5/2011 outlawing JAI and its activities and similar regional regulations to be legally flawed. In its view, these regulations override the national government’s position on Ahmadiyah, as declared in the 2008 Joint Ministerial Statement.

As such, the tragic events which took place in Cikeusik and other places in Indonesia cannot be seen in isolation from a situation that has encouraged and supported the actions of the anti-Ahmadiyah groups. This is of utmost concern. If it is not restrained, it has the potential to wreak havoc on a social order which in the past has proved flexible, harmonious and tolerant of difference.

 

Doctrinal differences

The conflict between the Ahmadiyah sect and other Islamic groups has its roots in different beliefs concerning the status of the Prophet Muhammad. These beliefs exert a strong influence on the way different Muslim groups involve themselves in society. One Cikeusik villager, Mahmud (not his real name), declared that he would risk everything to defend his religious beliefs. ‘There can be no give and take where belief is concerned,’ he says with conviction. ‘To me, the Prophet Muhammad is the final prophet, and neither Mirza Gulam Ahmad nor anyone else can succeed him.’

It is this doctrinal difference, among other things, that leads to some people to reject the Ahmadiyah sect and call for its members to repent and return to ‘true’ Islam. Before the Cikeusik tragedy occurred, a number of prominent local Islamic figures had urged the Ahmadiyah leaders to encourage their followers to merge with other Islamic groups in the village of Umbulan. Those who made use of the ustadz Parman’s house as a place for their daily religious observances were asked on several occasions to ‘return’ to the Islam practised by the rest of the local community.

In religious practice, just as in the exercise of other types of belief, ‘truth claims’ can have the effect of ‘imprisoning’ their adherents. The same applies to the Ahmadis. Their claims to the truth of their convictions are not easy to forego, nor can they easily embrace different beliefs, because people are more deeply attached to their beliefs than anything else they may possess. An Ahmadiyah follower may leave the community under social or political pressure, but this doesn’t mean he or she will simply be able to adopt another religion or set of beliefs. Examples of this can be found elsewhere in West Java: in the 1970s, followers of the agrarian spiritual movement known as Madrais, based in Cigugur, Kuningan, were pressured to move to a state-sanctioned religion. Its members converted to Islam or Catholicism, but later returned to their previous practices. The Ahmadiyah community in Cikeusik is a small minority, occupying only two houses in the village, but it maintains its own exclusive identity in its religious observances, including holding its own Friday prayers.

 

In search of a solution

In the context of doctrinal differences between adherents of different religions or belief systems, Cikeusik emerges as a straightforward example of the pressures surrounding religious freedom – and also religious harmony – in West Java. The potential for conflict always exists. It is held in check, or allowed to break out, by external factors. In this case, Indonesians’ failure to adapt to rapid liberalisation has been the instrumental external factor. This is how the Cikeusik tragedy should be interpreted.

For this reason, efforts to reinstate religious harmony should include an attempt to ‘soften’ the effects of doctrinal exclusivity. More open discussion of religious beliefs can help open the door to greater levels of tolerance between adherents of different faiths. Insights and understandings derived from local cultural values can serve as a framework for building more inclusive interpretations of religion, as long as they can be protected from outside interests whose goals are in conflict with local ideals of harmonious community life.

Prof Asep Seaful Muhtadi (asmuhtadi@yahoo.com) holds a chair in the Dakwah and Communications faculty of the Sunan Gunung Djati Islamic State University (UIN), Bandung. He visited Australia as a guest of Monash University and the Castan Centre for Human Rights Law.

This article was translated by Keith Foulcher and is part of a series that presents reflections by prominent West Javanese Muslim intellectuals one year after the Cikeusik tragedy. For Julian Millie’s overview of this special feature, click here.

Retrieved from: http://www.insideindonesia.org/stories/violence-in-a-climate-of-freedom-10022891

Saturday, February 18, 2012

Deden Gunakan Nama Berbeda Saat Dirawat

Menelisik Rusuh Cikeusik (Bagian 3)
 
"Seandainya polisi tidak mam pu, sudah lepaskan saja Pak, biar bentrok saja sekalian Pak, biar seru, asyik kan Pak (sambil mengangkat jempol).'' Itulah penggalan perkataan Deden Sudjana. Saat itu, dia sedang berbincang-bincang dengan Kanit Intel Polsek Cikeusik, Pandeglang, Banten, Aiptu Hasan, sesaat sebelum terjadinya bentrokan antara warga dan jemaat Ahmadiyah, Ahad (6/2) lalu, seperti terekam dalam video yang dibuat Arif Rahman.

Deden merupakan amir atau ketua perjalanan 17 orang jemaat Ahmadiyah yang bertamu ke rumah tokoh Ahmadiyah setempat, Suparman. Sedangkan Arif bagian dari rombongan ini. Aiptu Hasan menemui rombongan tersebut hendak merayu agar mereka mau dievakuasi lantaran pagi itu massa yang berjumlah
lebih dari seribu orang yang sedang dalam perjalanan akan menggeruduk rumah Suparman.

Namun, Deden menolaknya mentah-mentah. Kalimat seperti di awal tulisan inilah yang justru diucapkan Deden. Hingga kemudian bentrokan tak bisa dihindari dan membuat Deden terluka parah. Siapa sosok Deden ini sebenarnya, hingga kini masih kabur. Dalam rekaman video itu, Deden sempat mengaku datang ke Cikeusik sebagai koordinator keamanan nasional (kamnas) yang diperintahkan oleh amir nasional.

Namun, sedikit sekali informasi yang bisa diberikan oleh Jemaat Ahmadiyah Indonesia (JAI) terkait Deden. Bahkan, juru bicara JAI Zafrullah Ahmad Pontoh mengaku tidak lagi mengetahui keberadaan Deden sekarang, termasuk kondisi kesehatannya setelah menjalani perawatan di rumah sakit. "Saya tidak mendapat informasi lagi," kilah ketika dihubungi Republika beberapa hari lalu.

Zafrullah juga mengatakan bahwa dia tidak begitu dekat dengan Deden. Dia malah meminta Republika untuk menanyakan informasi terbaru mengenai Deden kepada Lembaga Bantuan Hukum (LBH). Alasannya, segala sesuatu terkait Deden sudah diserahkan ke LBH.

Direktur LBH Nurkolis Hidayat membenarkan pihaknya diserahi wewenang memberi pendampingan hukum bagi jemaat Ahmadiyah yang terlibat insiden Cikeusik, termasuk Deden. Tapi, dia sama sekali tak tahu kondisi terkini Deden karena di luar urusan hukum bukan tanggung jawabnya. "Tanya teman-teman Ahmadiyah," ujarnya.

Usai bentrokan, Deden dikabarkan terluka parah. Semula, polisi membawanya ke rumah sakit Pandeglang.
Namun, lantaran kondisinya kritis, dia kemudian dipindahkan ke Rumah Sakit Pusat Pertamina (RSPP) Jakarta.

Humas RSPP Titi Wah yuni mengungkapkan, Deden masuk ke RSPP pada Ahad (6/2) malam. Deden kemudian menjalani operasi di ruang bedah dan dirawat di kamar bernomor 427. Namun, dengan luka separah itu, Deden ternyata hanya dirawat selama tiga malam di RSPP.

Titi mengatakan, Deden keluar dari RSPP pada Kamis (10/2). Dia tak bisa mengungkapkan kondisi terakhir Deden saat meninggalkan RSPP karena tak mengetahuinya. "Itu wewenang dokter," kilah Titi.

Berdasarkan keterangan dari bagian informasi RSPP, selama dirawat, anggota Ahmadiyah ini menggunakan nama Deden Darmawan dan beralamat di Vila Galaksi Bekasi, Jawa Barat. Deden keluar dari RSPP dengan dijemput keluarganya.

Republika berhasil mendapatkan nomor ponsel Deden. Sayangnya, dia tak mau mengangkat ponselnya ketika dihubungi. Namun, dia menjawab pesan singkat yang dilayangkan Republika.

Melalui pesan itu, Deden mengaku menjalani rawat jalan untuk menyembuhkan tangan kanannya yang nyaris putus. "Nanti saja yah, saya nyaris lemah," kata Deden. Juru bicara Front Pembela Islam (FPI) Munarman mempunyai informasi bahwa Deden sebelumnya juga sempat terlibat dalam bentrokan antara jemaat Ahmadiyah dan warga di Desa Manis Lor, Kecamatan Jalaksana, Kabupaten Kuningan, Jawa Barat, beberapa waktu lalu.

Kala itu, menurut Munarman, jemaat Ahmadiyah juga memancing amarah warga dengan berusaha merebut surat penyegelan terhadap masjid Ahmadiyah. "Deden yang mewakili Ahmadiyah berdialog dengan aparat pemerintah kabupaten," ungkap Munarman. Melihat fakta itu, Munarwan lantas curiga pada sosok Deden. Bahkan, dia mencium adanya keterkaitan Deden dengan intelijen asing. Alasannya, setiap insiden yang melibatkan Deden mempunyai pola yang sama. "Ada seseorang yang khusus ditugaskan melakukan dokumentasi, baik dalam kejadian Cikeusik maupun Manis Lor," paparnya.

Tim investigasi insiden Cikeusik dari Komnas HAM pun hingga kini belum bisa menemui Deden. Wakil Ketua Komnas HAM yang ikut menyelidiki rusuh ini, Ridha Saleh, membenarkan bahwa Deden merupakan koordinator kamnas JAI. Informasi ini diperoleh Komnas HAM dari aparat polisi. Namun, Komnas perlu mengonfirmasikannya dahulu kepada JAI.

Sementara itu, Mabes Polri menyebut Deden Darmawan alias Deden Sudjana sebagai Sekretaris Ahmadiyah (JAI) Pusat. Kamis (17/2), Direktur I Pidana Umum Bareskrim Polri Brigjen Agung Sabar Santoso me ngatakan, Deden telah dijadikan tersangka dalam insiden Cikeusik. Agung berjanji akan menangkap Deden dalam 1x24 jam. c42 ed: budi raharjo

http://republika.pressmart.com/RP/RP/2011/02/18/ArticleHtmls/18_02_2011_001_053.shtml?Mode=1

Friday, February 17, 2012

Suparman Digaji Ahmadiyah Rp 10 Juta per Bulan

Republika, 17 Februari 2011

Menelisik Rusuh Cikeusik (Bagian 2)

Tak ada yang pernah menyangka bahwa Suparman, 42 tahun, akan menjadi pengikut Ahmadiyah. Apalagi jika melihat masa kecilnya yang dihabiskan di Kampung Peundey, Desa Umbulan, Kecamatan Cikeusik, Kabupaten Pandeglang, Banten, hingga dia lulus Sekolah Menengah Atas.

Suparman kecil dikenal sebagai anak yang pintar dan alim sejak mengenyam pendidikan di Sekolah Dasar (SD) 1 Umbulan hingga melanjutkannya di salah satu madrasah aliyah di Kecamatan Menes, Pandeglang. Keluarga Suparman telah menetap di kampung itu sejak sekitar tahun 1970-an.

Aminah (60) dan Matori (56), orang tua Suparman, berasal dari Cirebon, Jawa Barat. Aminah mengisahkan, setamat sekolah Suparman pernah meminta kepadanya agar disekolahkan ke luar negeri. Namun, permintaan tersebut tidak dikabulkan karena kedua orang tuanya tidak sanggup menanggung biayanya.

Orang tua Suparman hanya mengandalkan hasil panen dua petak sawah milik mereka untuk makan dan hidup sehari-hari. "Kita tidak punya apa-apa, kita orang miskin," kata Aminah kepada Republika, pekan lalu.

Ditambah lagi, Aminah juga harus menghidupi tujuh saudara kandung Suparman. Mereka adalah Tarno, Roni, Mulyadi, Suhirman, Maryana, Nayati, dan Nurhayati. Karena itu, Aminah hanya bisa memberikan restu kepada Suparman untuk merantau ke Jakarta.

Selama luntang-lantung di Jakarta, Suparman bekerja serabutan. Namun, Suparman gagal menaklukkan Ibu Kota. Lantaran tidak memiliki pekerjaan tetap, sekitar tahun 80-an, Suparman kembali lagi ke Kampung Peundey. Dia memutuskan untuk membantu keluarganya bertani.

Pada 1992, dia merantau ke Filipina bersama seorang jemaat Ahmadiyah bernama Ismail. Suparman mengenal Ismail dari adik iparnya, Rafiudin, yang lebih dahulu ikut sebagai jemaat Ahmadiyah. Ismail yang mengajaknya ke negeri tetangga itu. Dia baru kembali ke kampung halamannya pada 2002 dan sudah beristri Haina Toang Aquino alias Saniah, warga negara Filipina.

Dari sanalah, Suparman mulai kenal dan masuk Ahmadiyah. Dan karena itu pula, nama Ismail kemudian ditambahkan di depan nama aslinya menjadi Ismail Suparman.

Tidak betah di kampung, Suparman dan istri sempat pindah ke Bogor dan baru kembali lagi pada 2008. Sejak itu, Suparman mulai menyebarkan ajaran Ahmadiyah yang diciptakan Mirza Ghulam Ahmad ini, terutama kepada seluruh anggota keluarganya.

Orang tua dan saudara kandung Suparman akhirnya ikut menjadi jemaat Ahmadiyah. Padahal, sebelumnya orang tua Suparman terkenal sebagai orang alim dan pernah menjadi penghulu kampung. Sejak itulah perilaku keluarga Suparman mulai berubah. Ayah dan ibunya semakin jarang bergaul. Bahkan, mereka sudah tidak mau lagi datang ke masjid. Segala kegiatan keagamaan dilakukan di rumah.

Warga Kampung Peundey, semula tidak begitu peduli dengan aktivitas Suparman dan keluarganya di Ahmadiyah. "Sepanjang tidak merekrut dan berbuat onar," kata Asep, warga setempat.

Namun beberapa bulan terakhir, Suparman mulai mencari anggota dari luar keluarganya. "Imam masjid, Ustadz Sujana, berhasil dia bujuk. Bahkan, anak imam masjid, Acep Suracep, jadi sekretaris Suparman. Dari sinilah warga mulai jengkel," cerita Asep lagi.

Warga kampung juga keberatan dengan cara beribadah Ahmadiyah yang tidak lazim. Pengikut Suparman tidak pernah lagi shalat Jumat berjamaah di masjid, tapi tetap mengaku sebagai Muslim. Puncak keresahan warga terjadi pada pertengahan 2010, Suparman dibelikan rumah oleh Mansyur, warga Bandung, Jawa Barat, yang kemudian dijadikan tempat peribadatan Ahmadiyah di Kecamatan Cikeusik.

Letak rumah itu hanya sekitar 50 meter dari rumah keluarga Suparman. "Shalat tarawih, shalat Jumat, shalat Idul Fitri, dan Idul Adha pun mereka tidak mau bersama warga yang lain. Mereka bikin jamaah sendiri," ungkap Badriyah, tetangga Suparman.

Warga Kampung Peundey sebenarnya masih sayang pada Suparman. Karena itu, warga dan tokoh masyarakat berusaha untuk menyadarkan dan memintanya kembali menjalankan ajaran Islam yang benar. Namun, Suparman tetap tidak mau berubah pendirian. "Saya sudah berkali-kali mengingatkan Suparman," kata Kepala Desa Umbulan, M Johar.

Kepada Johar, Suparman mengaku tetap pada pendiriannya karena alasan materi. "Suparman mendapat tunjangan Rp 10 juta per bulan," sebut Johar. Uang tersebut digunakan untuk biaya operasional Suparman dalam menyebarkan Ahmadiyah di wilayahnya.

Sejak beredar SMS bakal ada massa yang mendatangi rumahnya, Johar berkali-kali meminta Suparman dan keluarganya untuk mengungsi. "Hanya bapaknya Suparman yang mau mendengarkan saya," ujar Johar menambahkan.

Suparman, istri, dan anaknya baru bisa dievakuasi oleh Polres Pandeglang sehari sebelum insiden berdarah Cikeusik pecah, Ahad (6/2) lalu. Itu pun mereka berhasil dievakuasi dengan alasan surat-surat kependudukan istrinya yang berkewarganegaraan Filipina tidak lengkap. ed: budi raharjo

http://koran.republika.co.id/koran/14/129282/Suparman_Digaji_Ahmadiyah_Rp_10_Juta_per_Bulan

Thursday, February 16, 2012

Arif Rahman, Sosok yang Tenang Merekam Bentrokan

Republika, 16 Feb 2011
 
Muhammad Fakhruddin

Menelisik Rusuh Cikeusik (Bagian 1)

Beberapa potong pakaian masih tergantung di tali jemuran yang dibentangkan di depan rumah. Hari sudah malam, namun lampu penerang di halaman rumah yang berada di Komplek RSS Pemda, Kelurahan Banjarsari, Cipocok Jaya, Serang, Banten, ini tetap padam.

Pemilik rumah tampaknya pergi dengan terburu-buru karena membiarkan pakaian dan lampu dalam kondisi seperti itu. Sejak bentrokan yang melibatkan warga dengan jemaat Ahmadiyah pecah di Cikeusik, Pandeglang, Banten, Ahad (6/2) lalu, sang penghuni, Arif Rahman (40 tahun), mendadak raib.

Hingga kemudian namanya disebut-sebut sebagai sosok yang merekam insiden Cikeusik hampir sepekan setelah peristiwa berdarah tersebut. Rekaman insiden Cikeusik sempat membuat heboh khalayak termasuk warga di sekitar rumah Arif yang tak tahu bahwa pria inilah yang telah merekamnya. “Ternyata yang meliputnya adalah warga saya,” kata Ahmad Rizik, ketua RT setempat kepada Republika Selasa (15/2).

Warga tidak terlalu mengenal Arif dan keluarganya. Mungkin lantaran kesibukannya membuat Arif jarang bersosialisasi dengan masyarakat di sekeliling rumahnya. Karena itu pula, tak banyak warga yang mengetahui bahwa Arif merupakan anggota Ahmadiyah. Kecuali Yayan Edicandra, tetangga dekat Arif. “Memang dia ikut Ahmadiyah, cuma saya tidak tahu persisnya,” ungkap Yayan.

Terlepas dari aktivitas di Ahmadiyah, Yayan dan warga mengakui kepiawaian Arif dalam merekam peristiwa. Warga bahkan tak jarang meminta bantuannya untuk mendokumentasikan kegiatan kemasyarakatan atau hajatan. Kepiawaian itu tampaknya terasah secara otodidak sejak Arif menjadi pegawai negeri sipil (PNS) di Balai Pelestarian Peninggalan Purbakala (BP3) Serang.

Sebagai staf Kelompok Kerja Dokumentasi dan Publikasi BP3 Serang, Arif sering ditugasi merekam peristiwa menggunakan kamera video. Dia juga memiliki usaha sampingan ‘video shooting’. “Dia sering diminta meliput pernikahan. Pekerjaan sampingan kalau libur,” kata Judi Wahjudin, kepala BP3 Serang.

Arif sudah menjadi PNS sejak 15 tahun yang lalu dan memiliki kondite yang bagus. Dia pernah juga dipercaya menjadi koordinator Museum Situs Kepurbakalaan Banten Lama selama dua tahun. Tapi, dia dianggap menyalahgunakan pekerjaannya karena kerap menjadikan museum kebanggaan masyarakat Banten ini sebagai markas dan tempat ibadah jemaat Ahmadiyah.

Kegiatan Arif tersebut terendus akhir 2010 lalu, hingga dia ditarik kembali menjadi staf BP3 Serang. Kakak kandung Arif, Syarif Ahmadi, dan adik iparnya, Alfi Syahri, juga menjadi PNS di BP3 Serang. Keduanya juga jemaat Ahmadiyah.

Selain Arif, Alfi rupanya ikut pula dalam rombongan jemaat Ahmadiyah yang bertamu ke rumah Ismail Suparman, pimpinan jemaat Ahmadiyah di Cikeusik. Arif luput dari aksi massa karena berpura-pura sebagai wartawan dari sebuah televisi nasional yang sedang meliput bentrokan Cikeusik, sedangkan Alfi selamat setelah kabur dari rumah Suparman dan diselamatkan polisi.

Video rekaman insiden Cikeusik ini kemudian beredar di masyarakat. Adalah penggiat Human Rights Watch (HRW) Andreas Harsono yang kali pertama mengunggah rekaman ini ke situs Youtube. Kepada Republika, Andreas mengaku menerima 28 file video yang seluruhnya berdurasi sekitar setengah jam dari Jemaat Ahmadiyah Indonesia (JAI). JAI, dikatakannya, meminta HRW untuk memublikasikannya agar diketahui masyarakat.

Dipilihlah file video berdurasi sekitar 4 menit 14 detik yang sudah diedit untuk diunggah. Dalam video ini terlihat sejumlah massa yang menggunakan tanda berupa pita biru mendatangi rumah Suparman. Jelas terlihat adanya bentrokan. Tampak pula, massa merusak rumah serta kendaraan bermotor yang diparkir di halaman, dan adegan diakhiri dengan gambar massa yang sedang memukuli seorang anggota jemaat Ahmadiyah yang sudah tersungkur kaku.

Kontan video ini membuat geger masyarakat. Kecaman mengalir kepada kelompok penyerang yang dinilai berbuat kejam dan sebaliknya, Ahmadiyah dianggap menjadi korban. Seperti dikatakan Andreas, HRW menerima 28 file insiden Cikeusik dari Ahmadiyah. Namun, tak dijelaskan mengapa video berdurasi empat menit itu dulu yang ditampilkan ke publik.

Padahal, Arif mengambil gambar cukup panjang. Sebelum bentrokan, Arif juga mendokumentasikan pertemuan antara Deden Sujana, amir atau pemimpin perjalanan 17 orang Ahmadiyah ke Cikeusik, dengan Kanit Intel Polsek Cikeusik Aiptu Hasan di rumah Suparman. Polisi meminta agar jemaat Ahmadiyah segera dievakuasi seperti halnya Suparman dan keluarganya yang sehari sebelumnya telah diamankan ke Polres Pandeglang.

Dalam rekaman tersebut, Deden terlihat menolak ajakan Hasan untuk dievakuasi. “Lepasin/ saja. Biar saja kita bentrok, biar seru. Kan asyik Pak. Masak kita diginiin diam saja Pak. Biar banjir darah di sini,” demikian kata Deden dalam cuplikan pembicaraan tersebut. Mendengar jawaban dari Deden ini, Hasan mengatakan, “Saya sih tidak mengharapkan begitu.” Hasan pun menjelaskan bahwa massa telah berada di jalan yang menuju ke arah rumah Suparman. Belakangan, penggalan video ini muncul pula di Youtube.

Dalam video yang direkam oleh Arif itu juga sudah terlihat sejumlah anggota Dalmas, berikut dua unit truk polisi di Jalan Raya Cikeusik, persis di depan rumah Suparman saat negosiasi berlangsung. Kedua truk tersebut hanya pindah parkir sekitar 50 meter ke kanan dan kiri rumah Suparman, sebelum bentrokan terjadi.

Terlihat juga dalam video, Deden merupakan orang pertama yang melontarkan pukulan ke wajah salah seorang dari kelompok massa berpita biru. Setelah itu, bentrokan pun pecah. Awalnya, beberapa orang berpita biru ini sempat mundur karena perlawanan dari jemaat Ahmadiyah.

Sementara, Arif, sang peliput, kini berada di dalam perlindungan Lembaga Perlindungan Saksi dan Korban (LPSK). yasmina hasni ed: budi raharjo

http://www.kaskus.us/newthread.php?do=newthread&f=10
Retrieved from: http://koranbaru.com/tag/jemaat-ahmadiyah/page/3/

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Menelisik Rusuh Cikeusik

Republika, 19 Feb 2011

Andreas Unggah Video Demi HAM
Rosyid Nurul Hakim, Yasmlna Hasnl

Dua orang jemaat Ahmadiyah tergeletak di tanah dekat pagar bambu sebuah halaman rumah. Massa ramai mengelilingi tubuh yang sedang meregang nyawa itu. Adegan penganiyaan pun terekam dalam video berdurasi empat menit 14 detik tersebut.

Ya, itulah adegan akhir dari video insiden Cikeusik, Pandeglang, Banten, yang melibatkan warga dengan jemaat Ah-madiyah seperti terlihat dalam tampilan di situs Youtube. Dalam keterangan video itu tertulis sebuah nama yang untuk kali pertama mengunggahnya Andreas Harsono. Video yang diunggah sehari setelah insiden terjadi, Ahad (6/2) lalu, itu serta-merta membuat khalayak tersentak. Semua seperti bersuara tak bisa menerima tindak kekerasan di luar batas kemanusiaan yang di-lakukan terhadap kedua korban. Opini pun terga-lang bahwa lagi-lagi jemaat Ahmadiyah menjadi korban dari tindakan anarkistis kelompok masyarakat tertentu.

Tentu menarik untuk diketahui, bagaimana ceritanya video itu bisa sampai ke tangan Andreas? Dan mengapa pegiat Human Rights Watch (HRW) ini memilih video yang berisikan materi kekerasan itu untuk diperlihatkan kepada publik? Andreas mengaku diminta oleh pihak Jemaat Ahmadiyah Indonesia (JAI) untuk menyebarluaskan video tersebut. Awalnya, dia diberi tahu oleh seorang teman yang mengikuti rapat JAI di Jalan Balikpapan Jakarta seusai rusuh Cikeusik, sekitar tengah malam Ahad itu bahwa ada video yang mengabadikan peristiwa tersebut.

Menurut pria yang juga berprofesi sebagai jurnalis ini, dia bisa mendapatkan informasi penting mengenai Ahmadiyah karena kerap menulis tentang kelompok yang didirikan oleh Mirza Ghulam Ahmad tersebut. Khususnya, setelah Majelis Ulama Indonesia (MUI) mengeluarkan fatwa terhadap Ahmadiyah pada 2005. "Saya tidak tahu bagaimana keputusannya, mereka (Ahmadiyah) mengontak saya, minta bertemu," ujar Andreas kepada Republika.

Ahmadiyah memberikan sebanyak 28 file video Ci-keusik dengan total durasi sekitar 30 menit. Sebelum ditayangkan, salah seorang pendiri Yayasan Pantau ini, memeriksanya secara saksama dan memverifikasinya terlebih dahulu apakah benar terjadi pembunuhan di Cikeusik, ada tiga orang yang meninggal, dan apakah polisi ada di lokasi kejadian. "Saya tanya siapa yang ambil gambar, kok bisa (seorang dari massa penyerang) menghormat ke pengambil gambar, dia belajar ke mana bisa bagus sekali gambarnya. Kok Ahmadiyah bisa siap dengan video itu," tutur Andreas.

Dari situ, Andreas lantas memutuskan untuk meng-unggah lima file yang salah satunya video berdurasi empat menit 14 detik tersebut. File video yang sudah diedit ini memperlihatkan gambar awal kedatangan massayang dipimpin oleh beberapa pria berbadan tegap mengenakan jaket hitam dan pita berwarna biru yang dipasang di dada atau lengan. Setelah itu, terlihatlah adegan bentrokan antara massa dan jemaat Ahmadiyah, perusakan rumah Suparman -tokoh Ahmadiyah Cikeusikpembakaran mobil yang diparkir di halaman rumah, hingga penganiayaan terhadap dua anggota Ahmadiyah yang sudah terkapar, di bagian akhir rekaman. "Senin (7/2) malam saya upload, tapi tidak selesai Senin itu karena lama sekali. Saya baru bisa istirahat Selasa (8/2)," ungkap Andreas.

Namun, Tim Pengacara Muslim (TPM) Mahendradatta merasa ada tendensi tertentu setelah melihat rekaman kejadian Cikeusik yang diunggah Andreas. "Ada motif propaganda," tudingnya. Pasalnya, video itu hanya menampilkan gambar dari sudut pandang massa yang menyerang atau warga.

Mahendradatta mempertanyakan mengapa video itu tidak memperlihatkan sudutpandang jemaat Ahmadiyah yang berada di rumah Suparman. Seperti, saat amir atau ketua perjalanan rombongan jemaat Ahmadiyah dari Jakarta, Deden Sudjana, memukul kali pertama warga yang datang ke rumah Suparman. "Seharusnya kalau mau upload, upload semua," kritik Mahendradatta.

Belakangan, potongan-potongan rekaman insiden Cikeusik bermunculan juga di Youtube. Salah satunya file yang mengungkap adanya pertemuan antara Kanit Intel Polsek Cikeusik Aiptu Hasan dan jemaat Ahmadiyah yang dipimpin Deden di rumah Suparman sesaat sebelum terjadi bentrokan.

File-file ini diunggah oleh banyak nama dan bukan lagi oleh Andreas. Mahendradatta menilai, video yang ditampilkan secara tak utuh oleh Andreas merupakan cara untuk mencari simpati bagi Ahmadiyah. Bahkan dia menduga, video yang diunggah itu merupakan pesan yang dikirim ke satu kekuatan tertentu di luar negeri.

Cara-cara ini, dipandang Mahendradatta, juga merupakan bagian dari proyek Ahmadiyah.untuk bisa tetap eksis. Proyek itu sudah men-jadi komitmen antara Ahmadiyah dan orang-orang dari lembaga swadaya masyarakat (LSM) dan para aktivis hak asasi manusia. "Jadi, kalau tentang Andreas Harsono, kita tidak terkejut karena dia bagian dari proyek eksistensi Ahmadiyah," katanya seraya menambahkan bahwa jika ingin melakukan pembelaan maka tidak perlu dengan cara-cara yang berbau politis dan propaganda.

Andreas jelas membantah tudingan telah dengan sengaja menyebarkan propaganda mendukung Ahmadiyah. Anggota konsorsium internasional untuk jurnalis investigatif ini menyatakan, Ahmadiyah memilih HRW karena sudah saling mengenal dan semata demi HAM. Dia menegaskan, tak ada motif lain di balik penyebaran video tersebut. "Supaya orang tahu bahwa level kekerasan pada Ahmadiyah ini sudah tinggi," ujarnya. Apalagi sejak 2002 hingga kini, Andreas menyebutkan, para pelaku kekerasan terhadap JAI tak ada, seorang pun yang dijatuhi hukuman setimpal. "Banyak yang ditangkap dan diperiksa, tapi tidak ada satu pun yang dihukum," katanya.

Rekan sesama jurnalis, Dandy Dwi Laksono mengatakan, motivasi Andreas mengunggah video bernuansa kekerasan itu memang dengan alasan HAM. Selain Ahmadiyah, Andreas juga pernah mengungkap kasus kekerasan di Timor-Timur, konflik Ambon, Papua, dan Aceh. "Motivasinya hanya advokasi," tegas Dandy. Oleh karena itu, Dandy menganggap pula motif di balik pengunggahan video Cikeusik itu hanya merupakan bagian dari tugas Andreas sebagai aktivis hak asasi manusia.

ed budi raharjo

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Antagonizing religious minorities



The Jakarta Post   |  Sat, 03/12/2011 4:25 AM  |  Opinion

Monday, February 13, 2012

The Islamic world view behind Cikeusik

Inside Indonesia, Friday, 10 February 2012 16:41, Hendar Riyadi, Stories


West Javanese Islamic institutions can do much to avert future outbreaks of violence

Hendar Riyadi


The incident that took place in Cikeusik, in the Pandeglang district of the province of Banten in early February 2011, has left a deep wound on the consciences of people concerned about humanitarian issues. Information technology has laid bare the full horror of the events, spreading images of the blows from blunt objects, bamboo sticks and rocks that rained down on the half-naked bodies of two members of the Ahmadiyah community who, even in a state of total immobilisation, remained the targets of hate-filled emotion. Some of the attackers could even be seen jumping up and down on the bodies of the victims after they were most likely already dead.

Yet these tragic events had a simple cause: these people met their deaths at the hands of a mob because they held beliefs that differed from those of the mainstream. The public outrage at this act of inhumanity reached new levels of intensity in July 2011 when those charged with the administration of justice handed down insignificant sentences on the perpetrators of the violence and murder.

There are a number of issues surrounding the incident that till now remain unclear: How is it that differences of belief can become so emotional? How do we explain legal decisions so out of step with the public’s sense of justice? Why does the government fail to protect its citizens? Have the police and army been involved as actors? What about the possibility of conspiracies designed to harm the image of Islam?

Unless all these issues can be fully resolved, it is likely that similar acts of violence will recur, making it more difficult to ensure the maintenance of religious tolerance and human rights in the years to come. When the violence that occurred in Cikeusik is considered in the light of other instances of violence and infringements on freedom of religion, such as the debates over the building of places of worship, accusations about false teachings and insults to religion, claims concerning Christianisation (or apostasy) and a whole range of issues related to the misuse of religion for particular interests in regional elections, the future of religious tolerance and plurality in Indonesia’s multi-ethnic, multi-religious and multicultural society does not look bright.

World view and religious radicalism in West Java

Where religious-based violence is concerned, surveys indicate that West Java has for a while been one of the most conflict-prone regions in Indonesia. Among the complex of issues that lie behind these acts of violence, religious world view stands out. In general, the Islamic community in Indonesia, and in West Java in particular, subscribe to a religious world view based on a version of Islam that is minimalist and puritanical, which is also expressed in Islamic mass organisations like Nahdhatul Ulama (NU), Muhammadiyah, the Islamic Union (Persis), the Council of Islamic Scholars (MUI), the Islamic Forum of Scholars and the Community (FUUI) and the Congregation of Muslims Party (PUI).

Without doubt, some of the West Javanese Islamic scholars who studied in Mecca were influential in shaping and strengthening this view. While studying there, they came under the influence of Wahabi theology, which gives negative meanings to diversity in Islamic observance. Sundanese Muslims tend to be very puritanical in their practice of religion and in their theological outlook, so they are prone to strong reactions whenever their convictions are challenged. In recent times, such strong reactions have occurred in response to three particular issues: the granting of permits for places of worship, perceived insults to Islam, and proselytising among the poor by Christians. Each of these issues, when considered carefully, can be seen to be related to theological convictions which problematise diversity. The same is true of puritanical responses to interpretations of Islam from secular and liberal perspectives; these are seen as threats to the beliefs held by the broad Islamic community, or umat.

Acts of violence against the Ahmadiyah community, including the Cikeusik incident, are related to the dominant form of Islamic theology in West Java, because they arise from doctrinal issues surrounding the status of the prophet Muhammad and the Ahmadiyah scriptures that are considered heretical on this score. Holders of mainstream beliefs in the region, as represented by Islamic-based mass organisations, vigorously reject the presence of Ahamdiyah in West Java, because of the challenge it poses to orthodox beliefs. Almost all of the mass organisations mentioned above (NU, Muhammadiyah, Persis, MUI, FUUI, PUI and others) have issued statements rejecting Ahmadiyah’s right to exist, accusing it of promoting a false doctrine counter to true Islam.

In my view, it is this minimalist and puritanical Islamic world view which has produced the ‘negative theology’ of the West Javanese Islamic community and its inflexible stance. This outcome has provided justifications for the practice of violence. This violence can be verbal, taking the form of labelling different views as deviations from the truth and in defining those who hold them as infidels. It can also take physical form, such as evictions and other acts that have resulted in the deaths of members of the Ahmadiyah community in several locations.

The puritanical character of West Javanese Islam is strengthened by the existence of educational institutions (including study groups) that tend to emphasise the dogmatic and ritualistic aspects of Islam and promote exclusive, intolerant and sometimes sectarian attitudes. These institutions and study groups are very effective at re-inventing, preserving and passing on the minimalist and puritanical Islamic world view and the ‘negative theology’ described above.

A survey of reading material dealing with matters of religion from a number of Islamic schools, for example, reveals an absence of any attempt to understand religion in the context of a rapidly changing, contemporary society. In its place such schools promote material specifically reflecting the ideology of the particular mass organisation associated with the school. This situation breeds exclusive and sectarian attitudes and makes it difficult for students to accept different understandings of Islam. This tendency to cast the teaching of Islam in schools in an ideological light also has the effect of strengthening the exclusivity of religious identity, rather than encouraging a pluralistic and diverse sense of ‘being Indonesian’. It also sows the seeds of intolerance and religious radicalism in society.

 

The role of Islamic mass organisations

Fundamentally, religion is ambivalent in character: it can be gentle or it can be ferocious, merciful or harsh, peaceful or warlike. The leadership, or religious elite, which includes the kiai (revered teachers and scholars) and the heads of religious-based social organisations and political parties, play an influential role in channelling community sentiment: either in the direction of consensus, compromise, moderation and harmony or towards controversy, mutual distrust, conflict and violence. When acts of violence and anarchic attitudes are justified in the name of religion, as occurred in the Cikeusik incident, the religious elite shares some of the responsibility.

It may well be the case that organisations like NU, Muhammadiyah, Persis, MUI, FUUI and PUI have played a major role in building harmonious religious communities. They have made a significant contribution to the development of people’s character and religious understanding in society, most notably through the variety of educational institutions they have established, from kindergartens to tertiary institutions. They have also been very active in educating their communities through organisational activities and Koranic recitation classes (pengajian). In addition, through associations formed in conjunction with the government, such as the Forum for Inter-Religious Harmony (FKUB), they have promoted the importance of living in harmony and at peace with other religions, in a climate of mutual understanding and a respect for plurality.

In connection with the Cikeusik incident, they have issued strong joint statements condemning the anarchic actions of sectors of the community. However, there is still the question of whether these Islamic organisations have done enough to calm tensions in religious life as a whole. Why is it that members of the Ahmadiyah community have seen the role of these organisations in precisely the opposite light, finding no positive contributions from Islamic organisations towards resolving the conflict?

Leaving aside questions about the role of Islamic organisations in the past, there are in my view a number of steps that need to be taken by these organisations in moving towards the future. Firstly, they need to develop a religious world view that is multicultural in outlook. By this I mean a religious paradigm that promotes and strives to implement the values of diversity, the idea that diversity (in culture, language, ethnicity and religion) is a universal fact of nature.

The guiding principle of this multicultural religious paradigm or world view is that all cultural groups must be treated equally, with honour and respect. Within Islam, such a principle resides within the fundamental doctrine of the oneness of God (tauhid). According to the Pakistani poet and scholar, Muhammad Iqbal (d. 1938), the essence of tauhid as a working principle is equality, fraternity and freedom. This interpretation not only has implications for our understanding of the undivided unity of God, but it also relates to the unity of humanity and the unity of creation. It means that all forms of discrimination – whether they relate to race, religion, sex, status, wealth, or intellectual or physical capability – are in fundamental contradiction with one of the most basic principles of Islam.

This vision must be promoted right down to the grassroots. Up till now, progressive religious thinking has been confined to the elite levels of Islamic mass organisations. At the grassroots level, religious discourses and attitudes tend to be aggressive (arousing hatred of particular groups or communities), intolerant and sectarian – as can be seen in print media such as the bulletins issued by mosques at the Friday congregational prayer. In this context, the use of information technology and telecommunications (TV, mobile phones, internet, teleconferencing, printed media etc.) will be crucial.

Secondly, Islamic organisations need to develop a model for formal education and religious study that is more oriented to progressive, inclusive and tolerant attitudes towards difference. The type of education that has been pursued up till now has bred a religiosity that is exclusive, intolerant and sectarian. For example, the material used in the teaching of theology, jurisprudence and exegesis has been excessively defensive of Islamic belief, resulting in a perpetuation of a negative theology, a theology of hatred and hostility towards outsiders.
The type of education that has been pursued up till now has bred a religiosity that is exclusive, intolerant and sectarian.
The teaching methods have been passed down through generations, and resemble indoctrination more than an appeal to philosophical reason and the development of wide-ranging perspectives, especially in relation to the growth of a multicultural and multi-religious contemporary culture. The development of a progressive, inclusive, welcoming and tolerant teaching model would be a significant step towards minimising the potential for acts of violence, religious radicalism and anarchism.

Thirdly, Islamic organisations need to develop a religious orientation that identifies with the interests of the weak and marginalised sectors of society. They need to show how Islam, as a body of teaching that derives from divine inspiration, can take a critical stance towards social inequalities. They must become a vanguard in defending the interests of those who are impoverished, marginalised and whose rights have been violated. These types of circumstances oblige Islamic organisations to develop a ‘transformative theology’, or what has recently come to be called a progressive Islamic theology. This means a religious paradigm based in praxis, the struggle against injustice and the defence of the poor.

 

Defending the poor

Many Indonesians live in difficult material circumstances and must struggle to fulfil their basic needs for food, clothing and a place to live. So it is perfectly understandable if these people are like tinder, easily ignited by the fires of emotion and prone to the type of brutality and anarchic acts that can be directed at religious communities. In fact, violence in the name of religion can be especially brutal, because it is driven not only by material need but also by ideological conviction. It is these circumstances that make it imperative for religious organisations to orient themselves to the weak and marginalised, because it is among these sectors of society that the seeds of emotionalism, radicalism and anarchism can so easily spring to life.

Fourthly, Islamic organisations must be consistent in strengthening their position in their dealings with broader society, and especially the institutions of government and the market, which together exercise hegemony over all aspects of life in Indonesia. Without isolating themselves from the state and the market, they must develop a critical stance towards both, aligning themselves with the public interest. The position of Islamic organisations as players in civil society has been severely weakened by the power of politics and the market, to the point where they have been powerless in the face of a number of issues relating to politics and the economy. In West Java, a number of Islamic organisations still function as mouthpieces for the government, political tools and ‘servants’ of those who wield the power of money. As a result, they need to strengthen their position by reconfirming their place in networks and coalitions with other elements of civil society.

Religious world view plays a critical role in motivating acts of violence. In the Indonesian context, and particularly in West Java, the religious world view concerned is that of minimalist and puritanical Islam. This type of religious world view gives birth to a negative theology of non-compromise, non-consensus and non-negotiation in relation to difference and pluralism. To re-establish the harmony of religious life, these Islamic organisations have a very significant role to play.

The steps I have outlined above will help to strengthen the cohesive capacities of religious harmony, and ultimately help to reaffirm national integration and the consolidation of a mature democracy in Indonesia. It is a task that will require the involvement of many different players, both at the local-national level and in the regional-global context.

Hendar Riyadi (hendarriyadi@ymail.com) is a lecturer at the Sunan Gunung Djati State Islamic University (UIN), Bandung, and is involved in the Muhammadiyah Young Intellectuals Network (JIMM). He visited Australia as a guest of Monash University and the Castan Centre for Human Rights Law.

This article was translated by Keith Foulcher and is part of a series that presents reflections by prominent West Javanese Muslim intellectuals one year after the Cikeusik tragedy. For Julian Millie’s overview of this special feature, click here.

Retrieved from: http://www.insideindonesia.org/stories/the-islamic-world-view-behind-cikeusik-10022892

Friday, February 10, 2012

The origins of intolerance to ward Ahmadiyah


The Jakarta Post   |  Fri, 02/10/2012 5:43 PM  |  

Monday, February 6, 2012

Religious radicalism and cultural change

Inside Indonesia, Sunday, 05 February 2012 00:00

Sundanese people view difference in new and worrying ways


Dadang Kahmad



West Java has long been known for the tolerant nature of its society and culture. ‘Siger tengah’, or ‘the middle road’, is an underlying principle of Sundanese culture that promotes moderation and the avoidance of extremes of both right and left. The Sundanese also reflect proudly on their values of friendliness and courtesy, reflected in expressions like ‘hormat ka saluhureun, nyaah ka sahandapeun, jeung someah ka sasama’ (respect for elders, affection for the young, and courtesy towards peers) and ‘someah hade ka semah’ (politeness and kindness to visitors). Social values of mutual assistance are embodied in the expression ‘resep nulung ka nu butuh, nalang ka nu susah’ (take pleasure in helping those in need and supporting those in trouble). These and similar sayings reflect a West Javanese society that values courtesy, harmonious living, mutual concern and support, and discernment in taking actions and decisions.

Nevertheless, in recent times, it is as though these cultural values have been lost. A significant escalation in acts of violence, particularly in matters of religion, has been evident in West Java. In the 10 days following the issuing of the West Java Gubernatorial Regulation banning Ahamdiyah on 3 March 2011 alone, a total of 56 cases of violence directed at the Ahmadiyah community occurred in West Java, among other places in Cianjur, Majalengka, Ciamis, Banjar, Bandung, Cirebon, Indramayu, Sukabumi and Tasikmalaya. According to the 2010 Report on Tolerance and Intolerance issued by the Moderate Muslim Society, in that year West Java recorded the highest number of incidences of intolerance of all Indonesian provinces - more than half the total 81 cases. This represented a four-fold increase on the figures for 2009 in West Java. Most cases occurred in Bekasi, Bogor, Garut and Kuningan. In Bekasi, the acts of intolerance involved obstruction of religious observances, the denial of access to places of worship, and attacks on members of the Batak Christian Protestant Church (HKBP). In Bogor, seven of the 10 cases recorded also involved Christians and were connected to church buildings. In Garut and Kuningan, most of the cases involved the Ahmadiyah community.

 

Tensions explode in Cikeusik

One incident of violence against the Ahmadiyah community that has drawn widespread attention in Indonesia and abroad occurred in Cikeusik, a subdistrict of Pandeglang in the province of Banten. This particular incident resulted in the deaths of three Ahmadiyah community members. According to observers, the incident arose from the concerns of some local inhabitants over the presence of Ahmadis in the village. They accused Ahmadiyah of propagating a deviation from Islamic teachings in regard to the status of Mirza Gulam Ahmad as a Prophet of God, and of offering a financial reward to anyone willing to adopt their beliefs. Meetings were held between the two groups on three occasions in November 2010, sponsored by local civilian and military authorities and representatives of the Council of Indonesian Islamic Scholars (MUI).
A coalition made up of members of the local community, local government representatives and Islamic scholars issued three demands to the Ahmadis: first, that the community should cease all its activities; second, that it should take immediate steps to integrate fully with the local community; and third, that it should formally disband. All three demands were rejected by the Ahmadis, who remained steadfast in their beliefs. From that point, the Ahmadiyah leaders were subjected to intimidation through SMS and verbal accusations, until the situation finally exploded in the events of 6 February 2011 and the deaths of three members of the community.

A number of different versions of the chronology of events leading up to the Cikeusik incident have emerged, including those of the Commission on Missing Persons and Acts of Violence (KontraS), the National Commission on Human Rights (Komnas HAM), the police, popular mass organisations and Ahmadiyah itself. But they all tend towards the same conclusion – that the clash was triggered by the presence in the village of members of the Central Ahmadiyah Militia Brigade (Laskar Ahmadiyah Pusat), who originated from Bekasi, Jakarta and Bogor.

Before the arrival of the Ahmadiyah Militia, the leadership and members of the Cikeusik Ahmadiyah community had been taken into protective custody, following indications that their headquarters in the village of Umbulan were about to be attacked. Militia members reached the village the day before the events took place, intending to stand guard over the Ahmadiyah headquarters and its assets. Some versions of what occurred say that rioting the following day was incited by their arrogance. In video recordings supporting these accounts, they can be seen responding to calls by police intelligence agents to leave the building with their own threats of violence, ‘If the police are incapable [of preventing a mob attack], just turn them loose. Only when the world is bathed in blood does the real fight begin!’ According to some versions, it was these words that ignited the community’s anger.

In the version of events put forward by the MUI, the Ahmadiyah militia were warned by a number of local inhabitants to leave the building, but chose to respond by making their own show of strength, a kind of display of invulnerability that drove their opponents to anger. According to this account, the rioting occurred not because of doctrinal matters, but in an attempt to settle a question of honour between two groups of combatants. Other versions point to the behaviour of local inhabitants as the root cause of the clash, referring to local people waving machetes and shouting threats like ‘police out of the way’, ‘these are infidels’, ‘set fire to Ahmadiyah’, and ‘close down Ahmadiyah’.

Events such as this raise serious questions for West Javanese society in general: What has led to this situation? What is going on in West Java? Has there been a fundamental change to the tolerance and harmony for which Sundanese culture is known?

 

Culture and conflict

Sundanese culture has been subjected to a series of distortions as a result of the pressures that are weighing upon it. The first of these is the influence of a series of national-level crises whose impacts have been felt also at the local and regional levels. On-going issues such as a crisis of confidence in the government, socio-economic and legal crises, and questions about the integrity of those holding public office and their ability to offer models of good conduct have all had a psychological impact on the Sundanese people. These issues cause anger and contribute to public resentment, evident in demonstrations by students, local non-government organisations, and the broader community. These often end up as riots. The same tendency is evident in the actions of West Java’s motorcycle gangs, which are frequently brutal and anarchic. In part, all these actions are the consequence of a loss of confidence and an absence of role models.

A second distortion has come from processes of modernisation that have made the Sundanese ‘individualistically-minded’, meaning they do not care about the environment surrounding them. Modernisation has resulted in the loosening of social ties, opening up opportunities for individuals and groups to pursue their own interests unhindered by those around them. This phenomenon has been apparent on occasions when terrorists have been apprehended, to the surprise of neighbours who had no previous knowledge of their actions.

The third factor is the reality that the Sundanese are not bound together in clans, such as the Batak marga or the Javanese trah, which function to give individuals from a variety of backgrounds a sense of primordial collective identity. This means that the Sundanese are more likely to regard someone of a different religion or belief system as ‘the Other’, whose existence needs to be marginalised and obliterated. Under this type of social structure, the ideals of co-existence, let alone pro-existence (the encouragement of groups with different religions and belief systems) are very difficult to realise, if not completely unthinkable.

Finally, the culture of mutual assistance has been eroded. In its place comes an orientation towards economic-based transactions, a culture that replaces the norms and values of community with a more materialistic orientation. Under these circumstances, everything is determined by the power of money. Money becomes the new measure of virtue, even of the truth, and of piety. It takes hold of a society’s way of thinking, and forms attitudes to life and goals in life, destroying a society’s community values. Ultimately, it displays the attitude expressed in the saying ‘resep maledog ka nu gede, jeung nalipak ka nu leutik’ (a liking for defying authority and abusing the weak).

The violence that occurred in West Java can also be examined from an historical angle. Conflict and violence in this region form a history of conflict between state and society, sometimes deliberately engineered for particular interests, and sometimes occurring spontaneously. Think, for example, of the Darul Islam movement and its Indonesian Islamic Army, which lasted for more than 13 years and led to untold loss of human life and material wealth. The same is true in the case of Haur Koneng, the Jihad Command, the Imran Movement and a number of other conflicts. The people of the Sundanese region, known for their devotion to religion, have proven to be easily manipulated by political interests, to the point where vertical conflicts between state and society quickly spread to horizontal conflicts among different sectors of the community.

The post-1998 period has seen an increase in this type of conflict, as political openness and democratisation make people more confident about expressing their thoughts and feelings. Against the background of economic hardship and social injustice, the absence of a history of freedom of expression means that the actions of one group have the potential to offend other groups, such as occurs in conflict between radical and moderate elements. This helps explain how so many people objected to Ahmadiyah’s existence, objections which first surfaced after 1998 and have peaked in the last five years.

Many communities have experienced a loss of identity that can lead to panic, which makes them vulnerable to a ‘quasi ethics’ that can turn them into mobs intent on violence. The mobs who took violent action against the Ahmadiyah community in Cikeusik and elsewhere did so with pride. They set fire to houses, cars and the Ahmadiyah mosque with a sense of righteous anger, because the Ahmadis were seen as ‘foreigners’, people of a different faith, a different culture. The situation was exacerbated by the exclusive attitudes of the Ahmadis themselves, who refused to take part in religious observances with fellow Muslims with different beliefs.

 

A return to values

To restore the identity of the Sundanese people, or the people of West Java as a whole, it will be necessary to revitalise the Sundanese values of tolerance, harmony and peaceful co-existence. In the past, these ancestral values were inculcated through the institutions of Sundanese society and provided a guide for individual behaviour. Now they need to be re-examined, disseminated and ingrained in wider society. The cultural principles embodied in the expressions and maxims quoted above must not remain simply slogans. They must be fully revitalised, so that the spirit behind them becomes a frame of reference for life in this multicultural and multi-religious era.

By reviving the wisdom of Sundanese culture, the conception of the ideal Sundanese person of the past may be able to shape a West Java that will be free of violence in the present and the future. This is a collective responsibility which will require the involvement of all sectors of society, beginning with the regional government, religious leaders and the people’s representatives, and incorporating all social groups. The challenge is to work together to limit the opportunities for the rise of radicalism, terrorism and other expressions of violence in the land of Sunda, thereby returning the Sundanese to their original identity of ‘aman, tentrem, kertaraharja’ (Safe, in repose, prosperous).

Prof Dadang Kahmad (dkahmad1@yahoo.com) is director of Post-Graduate Studies at the Islamic State University (UIN) Sunan Gunung Djati, Bandung, and is a member of the Muhammadiyah Central Executive. He visited Australia as a guest of Monash University and the Castan Centre for Human Rights Law.

This article was translated by Keith Foulcher and is part of a series that presents reflections by prominent West Javanese Muslim intellectuals one year after the Cikeusik tragedy. For Julian Millie’s overview of this special feature, click here.

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Sunday, February 5, 2012

One year after the Cikeusik tragedy

Inside Indonesia, Sunday, 05 February 2012 00:00

In this series of articles Sundanese intellectuals reflect on the Cikeusik tragedy and see alarming realities behind a brutal killing

 

Julian Millie



The history of increasing difficulties facing the Indonesian Ahmadiyah Congregation (JAI) can be traced in the pages of Inside Indonesia. The origins of the Indonesian branch of this Muslim minority movement were explained by Munawar Ahmad in edition 89 (Jan-Mar 2007). The movement originated in late nineteenth century India (contemporary Pakistan), was first proselytised in the Netherlands Indies in the 1920s, and currently has around 500,000 Indonesian followers. One sub-group within Ahmadiyah attributes revelation to its founder Mirza Ghulam Ahmad (d. 1908), thereby taking a doctrinal position that has attracted disapproval from orthodox Sunni Muslims who argue that divine revelation ended with the Prophet Muhammad.

Disapproval towards Ahmadiyah has been expressed constantly in Indonesia since the group was established there, but threats and violence against the group’s members and infrastructure have increased alarmingly in recent years. In edition 85 (Jan-Mar 2005), Akh Muzakki described a number of such conflicts occurring in West Java, and also examined the role of the Indonesian Council of Scholars (MUI) in the violence. The MUI had released a fatwa asserting that Ahmadiyah’s teachings were not Islamic in 1980, at a time when the Suharto government granted no space for activist organisations to implement programs of action. But in 2005, when the MUI republished its fatwa, Muslims were enjoying far greater freedom of expression, and in this climate, Muzzaki argues the fatwa played a role in encouraging violence against the group.

 

Defending freedom of religion

Few Indonesians have taken issue with the MUI’s disapproval of Ahmadiyah, but some have defended the group, arguing that there is an important principle at stake. The Indonesian constitution, they argue, protects freedom of religion. As Joanne McMillan wrote in edition 94 (Oct-Dec 2008), the resulting conflict has polarised society. On 1 June, 2008, supporters of religious freedom gathered at a rally held at Jakarta’s national monument. This date is celebrated annually as the day on which Sukarno delivered a speech in which he outlined his version of the state ideology known as Pancasila. The demonstrators, who included influential religious leaders, were attacked by thugs belonging to the very same groups that had carried out threatening actions against Ahmadiyah. The violence, which resulted in injuries to 19 people, shocked many Indonesians, and led to the imprisonment of members of the vigilante groups.

It is not only public apathy that has placed Ahmadiyah in such a vulnerable position. Indonesia’s politicians are also wary of the implications of the Ahmadiyah case. As Bernhard Platszdasch reported in edition 97 (July-Sep 2009), the country’s mainstream parties are eager to capture support from pious voters, and their positioning on the Ahmadiyah issue reflects a desire to accommodate them. The government’s strongest statement on Ahmadiyah was a joint ministerial decree released in June of 2008. It did not outlaw the group, but forbade its members from spreading its teaching as long as they continued to claim an Islamic identity. By refusing to support either of the conflicting principles being argued in the debate, the decree was a safe option for a government reluctant to court controversy.

However, after the decree, some accused the government of ignoring rights enshrined in the Indonesian constitution, making the Ahmadiyah congregation the focus of a debate about the nature of the protection offered by the country’s legal framework. In edition 105 (July-Sep 2011), Melissa Crouch described bans on Ahmadiyah that have appeared in legislation passed by governments at the provincial and district levels. But many critics doubt the power of these governments to make laws restricting religious activities. As Crouch pointed out, there is also a contradiction at work: laws have been passed that make Ahmadiyah teachings and observances illegal, but the operation of the law has hardly been felt by the vigilante groups whose violence and threats have incurred little legal sanction.

 

The Cikeusik tragedy

One of the most tragic developments in this worsening trajectory of religious conflict occurred in Pandeglang, Banten Province on 6 February 2011, when a mob attacked the house of an Ahmadiyah follower in the village of Umbulan, in the sub-district of Cikeusik. The attack was not spontaneous. In the days before, messages were sent around local religious networks calling people to a demonstration against Ahmadiyah in Umbulan. The message stated an intention to ‘expel Ahmadiyah from Cikeusik’.

On 5 February, an Ahmadiyah leader, Suparman, and his family were ‘evacuated’ by police, who knew in advance of the impending demonstration. The police’s hopes of avoiding a dangerous confrontation on the following day were dashed when 17 Ahmadiyah supporters arrived in cars from Jakarta, Bogor and Serang, stating an intention to protect Ahmadiyah property. They were led by the Ahmadiyah’s national security chief, Deden Sudjana. Police tried, but failed to persuade these men to leave Suparman’s house.

After the departure of the police negotiators from the house, a mob of between 1000 and 1500 people attacked it, while the police and army helplessly looked on. In the ensuing violence, which was captured on video and later circulated via the internet, the mob murdered three Ahmadiyah members from Deden’s group, Warsono, Chandra and Roni. In a particularly distressing image, mob members were seen striking and kicking victims’ bodies, even after they appeared to be dead.

Criminal prosecutions resulted. Twelve people, including students and leaders of local Islamic schools, were charged and tried in the Serang court on various counts including assault and incitement. Their light sentences caused further public concern. In July, 2011, they were found guilty and sentenced to periods of imprisonment between three to six months. Taking into account the time already served, they all walked free within 15 days of being sentenced.

Deden Sudjana, the Ahmadiyah security adviser who had arrived in Umbulan on the morning of the incident, and who was seriously wounded in the attack, was charged with incitement. He was found guilty and sentenced to six months imprisonment.

 

A West Java perspective

Many of the attacks on Ahmadiyah have taken place within West Java, the Indonesian province occupied by the Sundanese ethnic group. Cikeusik is located in the new province of Banten, but the region is a Sundanese-speaking one, and is considered part of the Sundanese cultural region.

Three Islamic intellectuals from West Java were recently invited to Monash University in Melbourne, Australia, to give their impressions of the Cikeusik incident at an event organised in cooperation with the Castan Centre for Human Rights Law. Specifically, they were requested to contextualise the Cikeusik incident in the social, political and religious setting of contemporary West Java. The province has been the site of many recent incidents of religion-based conflict, but this needs to be qualified: West Java is the most densely populated province in Indonesia (after Jakarta, which in fact has the administrative status of a province), so any social problems manifesting generally in Indonesia will appear prominently in the West Java region. In fact, attacks on Ahmadiyah have also occurred in other provinces.

But there are nevertheless good reasons to ask for explanations from West Java-based scholars. First, the Ahmadiyah conflict is one of a number of conflicts with roots in religious difference that are ongoing in West Java. These include conflicts arising over the issuing of permits for places of worship, over new Islamic movements (other than Ahmadiyah), and over the freedom of nightclubs and entertainment venues to operate.

Second, the populations of West Java and Banten include, by Indonesian standards, a high proportion of Muslims. While the national average is 88 per cent, Muslims make up 97 per cent of the West Java population. Christianity did not establish itself in West Java during the colonial period, and its rural areas lack the heterogeneity brought to other regions of Java by the presence of Christians and other religious orientations. This homogeneity is relevant to the capacity of the province’s populations to accept difference.

Third, the large Muslim population displays incredible diversity. Bandung, the capital of West Java, has been the centre of modernist thinking and activism (although that strand of contemporary thought labelled ‘liberal’ has been weak). At the same time, the province’s rural populations display loyalty to well-established Islamic traditions. The province has been home to purification movements, to Islamically-informed resistance to colonial and post-colonial governments, and to some of the nation’s largest sufi orders (tariqa). At times, this diversity generates conflict.

 

Three perspectives

The three speakers at the Monash/Castan Centre event were Sundanese, and were experienced researchers and commentators about religion and society in West Java. Professor Dr Dadang Kahmad, a sociologist by training, is Director of Post-Graduate Studies, Islamic State University (UIN), Bandung. He is currently a member of the Muhammadiyah Central Executive, and has served as head of the West Java branch. He was formerly the chair of the West Javanese chair of the Inter-Religious Harmony Forum (FKUB), and has written books on the sociology of religion in West Java. Professor Dr Asep Saeful Muhtadi was formerly dean in the Faculty of Predication (dakwah) and Communications at the Islamic State University (UIN), Bandung. He has acted as an adviser to the West Javanese Provincial Government on social inclusion, and acts as a provincial coordinator for a US-funded education program. Mr Hendar Riyadi, the youngest of the speakers, also lecturers in the State Islamic University, Bandung, and is a member of the Muhammadiyah Young Intellectuals Network (JIMM), as well as the West Javanese chapter of the Interfaith Harmony Network (JAKATARUB). He is the author of books and articles on Islamic law and other subjects.

The three analyses – each sensitively translated by Keith Foulcher – take up different threads and will be published as a series over two weeks. In the first of these, Kahmad identifies a background of social alienation in which rapid change has damaged local values that promote tolerance and harmony between distinct groups. In part two of the series, Muhtadi's description of Indonesia’s recent political liberalisation provides a relevant context. The third perspective from Riyadi, an affiliate of the youth movement of Muhammadiyah that has been in conflict with the group’s conservative wing, is critical of Indonesia’s Islamic organisations in supporting a homogenous worldview that is resistant to diversity.

Some readers might notice a lack of ‘finger-pointing’ in these analyses. Other articles on these subjects published in Inside Indonesia specifically name certain organisations as promoters of conflict or ideologically-based intolerance. Our three contributors do not do this, and it is not hard to see why. In their roles in West Java, these men have responsibilities that require them to maintain good relations with a diverse range of groups, so their freedom to mention specific actors and groups is limited.

But at the same time, these absences make their outlooks more sobering. If the problems manifesting in the Cikeusik incident could be attributed to identifiable provocateurs, they would seem to be capable of resolution. But our three contributors point to a graver situation. They all identify collective religious dispositions that, in the right circumstances, transform doctrinal differences into threats, and thereby sustain acts of aggression. It is clear that the Cikeusik demonstration was organised in advance by opponents of Ahmadiyah, but the murderers themselves do not appear to have been card-carrying zealots, but ordinary rural santri.

There will always be Indonesian Muslim leaders who will claim that the public is harmed by groups such as Ahmadiyah, or who point at distinctive Islamic subgroups and announce them as threats. But the Cikeusik tragedy points to more serious problems that arise when society at large interprets difference as a threat, and justifies the resulting violence on that basis. Based on the perspectives from our three contributors, such a situation is currently unfolding in contemporary Indonesia.

Julian Millie (Julian.Millie@monash.edu) teaches in the anthropology section at Monash University.

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Saturday, February 4, 2012

Pakistan, Ahmadiyah and democracy



The Jakarta Post   |  Wed, 03/16/2011 7:33 PM  |  Opinion