Revival of Hinduism in Indonesia Prophecy

[Guest guest]

Sanjay Garg <gargsam> wrote:

Very interesting piece of research from Dr. Reuter. What I found

particularly striking was that even Indonesian muslims seem to

accept as inevitable the prophecy that a "Hindu" revivial will take

place that will restore Indonesia back to its former glory.

 

A while ago a malaysian friend had remarked to me about the malay

character being very opportunistic (as opposed to ideological) i.e.

they will align with whoever is the dominant economic force in their

region. When the pandyas and cholas were powerful, the malays became

hindus; this was followed by the muslims & the westerners. With the

rise of india (mainly the south, mind you) as an economic power, one

wonders ...........

 

Note that there was a strong Indonesian presence at WAVES 2004 and

there were many persuasive attempts to have the next WAVES held in

Indonesia. Individually, several scholars were invited to

Indonesia.

 

Sanjay

 

 

 

Rajeev Srinivasan <rajeev.srinivasan@g...> wrote:

the following article is extremely interesting, as it is totally

counter-intuitive. normally any land that has had islam imposed on it

remains muslim, the only two exceptions in history being spain and

what is now the republic of india. does this mean that there is the

likelihood of a major change in indonesia?

 

it is also counter-intutitive based on what i personally have seen on

the ground. i have been to bali a few times, and the visible presence

of muslims in bali had increased considerably by the last time i went

there, which was in 1999. just next to the serenly beautiful ulu danu

water temple, which is one of the nicest spots in bali, a large

mosque

had come up. and the general imperialistic behavior of even javanese

tourists to bali was irksome to balinese, or so they told me.

 

but on the other hand, in java, there is borobudur (the largest

buddhist structure in the world), and nearby is the lesser-known

prambanan with temples to siva, vishnu and brahma. on every full moon

night there is a flood-lit performance of the ramayana ballet right

next to the tall and slender siva temple. so it is clear that hindu

influence has not entirely disappearead in java, but i would have

thought that with the aggressive islamization of the place, hindus

would be in bad shape.

 

in my earlier visits to java, i used to be amused that even chinese

indonesians were required to have indonesian-language names, which

generally were easily seen to be sanskrit-derived. for instance, i

knew a chinese named iravan. but today i find that indonesian muslims

are increasingly moving towards arabic names, a sign of increasing

fundamentalism.

 

rajeev

 

================

 

http://www.swaveda.com/articles.php?action=show&id=49

 

Jul 23, 2004

Great Expectations: Hindu Revival Movements in Java, Indonesia

by Thomas Reuter

 

 

Hindu empires had flourished in Java for a millennium until they were

replaced by expanding Islamic polities in the 15th century, setting

the stage for Indonesia becoming the world's largest Muslim nation.

In

the 1970s, however, a new Hindu revival movement began to sweep

across

the archipelago. Hinduism is gaining even greater popularity at this

time of national crisis, most notably in Java, the political heart of

Indonesia. Based on preliminary ethnographic research in five

communities with major Hindu temples, this paper explores the

political history and social dynamics of Hindu revivalism in Java.

Rejecting formalist approaches to the study of religion, including

the

notion of 'syncretism ', the Hindu revival movements of Java are

treated as an illustration of how social agents employ religious or

secular concepts and values in their strategic responses to the

particular challenges and crises they may face in a specific

cultural,

social, political and historical setting.

 

Expectations of a great crisis at the imminent dawn of new golden

age,

among followers of the Hindu revival movement in Java, are an

expression of utopian prophesies and political aspirations more

widely

known and shared among contemporary Indonesians. These utopian

expectations are set to shape the prospects of Indonesia's fledgling

democracy. In this paper, I will reflect on the different historical

conditions under which these and similar utopian expectations and

associated social movements arise, and may either either incite

violent conflict or serve a positive role in the creation or

maintenance of a fair society.

 

My interest in Java is recent and arose inadvertently from nearly a

decade of earlier research on the neighboring island of Bali. The

majority of Balinese consider themselves descendants of noble

warriors

from the Hindu Javanese empire Majapahit who conquered Bali in the

14th century. A growing number of Balinese are conducting pilgrimages

to Hindu temples in Java, most of which have been built in places

identified as sacred sites in traditional Balinese texts (often

written in Old-Javanese language). Balinese have been heavily

involved

in the construction and ritual maintenance of these new Hindu temples

in Java. They further dominate organizations representing Hinduism at

a national level. Finally, many Javanese Hindu priests have been

trained in Bali.

 

I had the opportunity to gain a first hand impression of the

expansion

of Hinduism in Java and of Balinese involvement therein during a

field

trip in late 1999. Following preliminary ethnographic research in

eight different Hindu Javanese communities it became evident that

this

movement has its own dynamics and rationale, no matter how much it

may

have been spurred by Balinese support. Most thought-provoking,

perhaps, were the emotional accounts of events since 1965 leading up

to a resurgence of Hinduism, and the constant references to the

famous

Javanese prophesies of Sabdapalon and Jayabaya.

 

On an earlier field trip in 1995, I was also able to visit central

and

southern Kalimantan where a large Hindu movement has grown among the

local Ngaju Dayak population. The lead-up to a mass declaration for

'Hinduism' on this island was rather different to the Javanese case,

in that conversions followed a clear ethnic division. Indigenous

Dayak

were confronted with a mostly Muslim population of

government-sponsored (and predominantly Javanese) migrants and

officials, and deeply resentful at the dispossession of their land

and

its natural resources. Compared to their counterparts among Javanese

Hindus, many Dayak leaders were also more deeply concerned about

Balinese efforts to standardize Hindu ritual practice nationally;

fearing a decline of their own unique 'Hindu Kaharingan' traditions

and renewed external domination.

 

The Javanese Hindu revival movement is in many ways unique, and its

recent expansion may surprise a casual observer. Java is often viewed

as the headquarters of Islam within the world's most populous Muslim

nation. On its own, however, this superficial image fails to do

justice to the immensely complex and varied cultural history of this

island; a history that continues to exert a profound influence on

contemporary Javanese society. A glance at one of the many ancient

monuments scattered across its landscape would suffice to remind one

of a very different Java, where a succession of smaller and larger

Hindu kingdoms flourished for more than a millennium, producing a

unique and dynamic mixture of Indic and indigenous Austronesian

culture. At the peak of its influence in the 14th century the last

and

largest among Hindu Javanese empires, Majapahit, reached far across

the Indonesian archipelago. This accomplishment is interpreted in

modern nationalist discourses as an early historical beacon of

Indonesian unity and nationhood, a nation with Java still at its

center.

 

That the vast majority of contemporary Javanese and Indonesians are

now Muslims is the outcome of a process of subsequent Islamization.

Like Hinduism before it, Islam first advanced into the archipelago

along powerful trade networks, gaining a firm foothold in Java with

the rise of early Islamic polities along the northern coast. Hinduism

finally lost its status as Java's dominant state religion during the

15th and early 16th century, as the new sultanates expanded and the

great Hindu empire Majapahit collapsed. Even then, some smaller Hindu

polities persisted; most notably the kingdom of Blambangan in eastern

Java, which remained intact until the late 18th century.

 

Islam met with a different kind of resistance at a popular and

cultural level. While the majority of Javanese did become 'Muslims',

following the example of their rulers, for many among them this was a

change in name only. Earlier indigenous Javanese and Hindu traditions

were retained by the rural population and even within the immediate

sphere of the royal courts, especially in a context of ritual

practice. In this sense, the victory of Islam has remained incomplete

until today.

 

To proclaim on these grounds that Javanese religion, or any other

religion, is a product of 'syncretism' is to say no more than that it

has a history, as every religion inevitably does. Given that history

has no definite beginning, 'syncretism' has been a feature in all

world religions from the start.[1] Even a more modest distinction

between degrees of 'syncretism' or 'orthodoxy' in the religions of

different societies, or in those of the same society at different

times in its history, is rather unproductive unless this or similar

distinctions are situated in relation to much broader historical

processes affecting the societies concerned as a whole. A process of

religious 'rationalization' (in the Weberian sense), in particular,

may needs to be situated within a broader context of modernity.

 

Insofar as it is justifiable to speak of a trend toward increasing

'orthodoxy' in Indonesian Islam in the 20th century, a trend which

applies similarly to Indonesian Hinduism and Christianity, this

phenomenon must be assessed against the historical background of

colonialism, the subsequent establishment of an independent

Indonesian

state, and the advent of modernity. In the colonial and post-colonial

era, an ever more popular and educated acceptance of Islam was

gained,

in Java and elsewhere, through the work of independent or government

Islamic organizations with an anti-colonial and modernist

socio-political orientation. In the wake of this still continuing

process of rationalization, a conceptual potential has been created

for greater socio-political polarization among the followers of

different and, now, more precisely distinguishable 'religions'.

Nevertheless, the more orthodox among Javanese Muslims, who tend to

identify themselves with a more modern and global notion of Islamic

religion, are still a minority and are themselves divided into

factions (for example, over the issue of whether to aspire toward a

secular or an Islamic Indonesian state). Most recently these

divisions

became apparent during the dismissal of President Wahid on charges of

incompetency.

 

To a large and growing number of equally 'modern' Javanese, however,

their ancient Hindu past is still very present indeed, and prophesied

to come alive once more in the near future. A utopian Hindu revival

movement has emerged in Java over the last three decades of the

twentieth century, and is gathering momentum in the turmoil of

Indonesia's continuing economic and political crisis. Drawing on

ancient prophesies, many of its members believe that a great natural

cataclysm or final battle is at hand in which Islam will be swept

from

the island to conclude the current age of darkness. Thereafter, they

say, Hindu civilization will be restored to its former glory - with

Java as the political center of a new world order that will last for

a

thousand years.

 

Adding to the concern of Muslim observers, the Javanese Hindu

movement

is part of a wider national phenomenon of Hindu revivalism and

expansion. Situated at the heart of Indonesia, however, the Hindu

movement in Java may have the most serious implications yet for the

social and political stability of the nation as a whole. In addition,

the same mood of apocalyptic fear, utopian expectation and revivalist

zeal is shared by many Javanese Muslims. This is made evident in a

number of revivalist Islamic movements, whose members also tend to

describe the present as an age of moral and social decay.

 

Recent incidents of inter-religious violence in the Moluccas and

Lombok, and the major importance afforded to religious affiliation in

Indonesia's recent parliamentary and 1998 presidential elections are

both indicative of a national trend towards religious polarization

(Ramstedt 1998). Such polarization has not been characteristic of

Javanese society, particularly at a community level, where

neighborhood cooperation and social peace have been valued more

highly

than religious convictions (Beatty 1999). With nominal Muslims now

openly converting to Hinduism this could well change, tearing away at

the delicate web of compromises that is the very fabric of Javanese

society. On a more positive note, Indonesians of all confessions also

share an urgent desire for political reform and genuine democracy,

and

may still be prepared to cooperate in the struggle to achieve this

common aim.

 

The emergence of a self-conscious Hindu revival movement within

Javanese society is thus a highly significant development. The

following preliminary outline of this movement is to provide an

appraisal of some of the deep social divisions and widely shared

utopian aspirations in contemporary Indonesian society which are set

to shape the immediate future of this fragile nation.

 

 

Hindu Revivalism in Historical and Political Context

 

While many Javanese have retained aspects of their indigenous and

Hindu traditions through the centuries of Islamic influence, under

the

banner of 'Javanist religion' (kejawen) or a non-orthodox 'Javanese

Islam' (abangan, cf. Geertz 1960), no more than a few isolated

communities have consistently upheld Hinduism as the primary mark of

their public identity. One of these exceptions are the people of the

remote Tengger highlands (Hefner 1985, 1990) in the province of

Eastern Java. The Javanese 'Hindus' with whom this paper is

concerned,

however, are those who had officially declared themselves 'Muslims'

prior to their recent

conversion to Hinduism.

 

In an unpublished report in 1999, the National Indonesian Bureau of

Statistics tacitly admits that nearly 100.000 Javanese have

officially

converted or 'reconverted' from Islam to Hinduism over the last two

decades. At the same time, the East Javanese branch of the government

Hindu organization PHDI (below) in an annual report claims the 'Hindu

congregation' (umat hindu) of this province to have grown by 76000

souls in this year alone. The figures are not entirely reliable or

objective, nor can they adequately reflect the proportions of Java's

new Hindu revival movement, based as they are on the religion stated

on people's identity cards (kartu tanda penduduk or 'KTP') or on

other

measures of formal religious affiliation. According to my own

observations, many conversions are informal only, at least for now.

In

addition, formal figures often do not adequately distinguish between

religious conversions and general population growth, given that most

government agencies only record people's religion at birth.

 

Problems with estimating rates of conversion aside, it is remarkable

that despite their local minority status the total number of Hindus

in

Java now exceeds that of Hindus in Bali. Data collected independently

during my preliminary research in Eastern Java further suggest that

the rate of conversion accelerated dramatically during and after the

collapse of former President Suharto's authoritarian regime in 1998.

 

Officially identifying their religion as Hinduism was not a legal

possibility for Indonesians until 1962, when it became the fifth

state-recognized religion.[2] This recognition was initially sought

by

Balinese religious organizations and granted for the sake of Bali,

where the majority were Hindu. The largest of these organizations,

Parisada Hindu Dharma Bali, changed its name to P.H.D. Indonesia

(PHDI) in 1964, reflecting subsequent efforts to define Hinduism as a

national rather than just a Balinese affair (Ramstedt 1998). In the

early seventies, the Toraja people of Sulawesi were the first to

realize this opportunity by seeking shelter for their indigenous

ancestor religion under the broad umbrella of 'Hinduism', followed by

the Karo Batak of Sumatra in 1977 and the Ngaju Dayak of Kalimantan

in

1980 (Bakker 1995).

 

Religious identity became a life and death issue for many Indonesians

around the same time as Hinduism gained recognition, namely, in the

wake of the violent anti-Communist purge of 1965-66 (Beatty 1999).

Persons lacking affiliation with a state recognized-religion tended

to

be classed as atheists and hence as communist suspects. Despite the

inherent disadvantages of joining a national religious minority, a

deep concern for the preservation of their traditional ancestor

religions made Hinduism a more palatable option than Islam for

several

ethnic groups in the outer islands. By contrast, most Javanese were

slow to consider Hinduism at the time, lacking a distinct

organization

along ethnic lines and fearing retribution from locally powerful

Islamic organizations like the Nahdatul Ulama (NU). The youth wing of

the NU had been active in the persecution not only of communists but

of 'Javanist' or 'anti-Islamic' elements within Sukarno's Indonesian

Nationalist Party (PNI) during the early phase of the killings

(Hefner

1987). Practitioners of 'Javanist' mystical traditions thus felt

compelled to declare themselves Muslims out of a growing concern for

their safety.

 

The initial assessment of having to abandon 'Javanist' traditions in

order to survive in an imminent Islamic state proved incorrect.

President Sukarno's eventual successor, Suharto, adopted a distinctly

nonsectarian approach in his so-called 'new order' (orde baru)

regime.

Old fears resurfaced, however, with Suharto's 'Islamic turn' in the

1990s. Initially a resolute defender of Javanist values, Suharto

began

to make overtures to Islam at that time, in response to wavering

public and military support for his government. A powerful signal was

his authorization and personal support of the new 'Association of

Indonesian Muslim Intellectuals' (ICMI), an organization whose

members

openly promoted the Islamization of Indonesian state and society

(Hefner 1997). Concerns grew as ICMI became the dominant civilian

faction in the national bureaucracy, and initiated massive programs

of

Islamic education and mosque-building through the Ministry of

Religion

(departemen agama), once again targeting Javanist strongholds. Around

the same time, there were a series of mob killings by Muslim

extremists of people they suspected to have been practicing

traditional Javanese methods of healing by magical means.

 

Repeated experiences of harassment or worse have left adherents of

Javanist traditions with deep-seated fears and resentments. In

interviews conducted in 1999, recent Hindu converts in eastern and

central Java confessed that they had felt comfortable with a tenuous

Islamic identity until 1965, but that their 'hearts turned bitter'

once they felt coerced to disavow their private commitment to 'Hindu

Javanese ' traditions by abandoning the specific ritual practices

which had come to be associated therewith. In terms of their

political

affiliation, many contemporary Javanists and recent converts to

Hinduism had been members of the old PNI, and have now joined the new

nationalist party of Megawati Sukarnoputri. Informants from among

this

group portrayed their return to the 'religion of Majapahit'

(Hinduism)

as a matter of nationalist pride, and displayed a new sense political

self-confidence. Political trends aside, however, the choice between

Islam and Hinduism is often a highly personal matter. Many converts

reported that other members of their families have

remained 'Muslims',

out of conviction or in the hope that they will be free to maintain

their Javanist traditions in one way or another.

 

These observations provide no more than a preliminary sketch of the

changing landscape of cross-cutting and sometimes contradictory

social, political and religious identities wherein the Javanese Hindu

revival movement is taking shape. In essence, the collapse of the

authoritarian Suharto regime has allowed old rivalries between

Islamic

and Nationalist parties to resurface in a changed environment and in

a

new guise. This has led to a degree of socio-political polarization

as

has not been seen since the 1960s revolution, although it may have

been an inherent conceptual possibility throughout modern Indonesian

history.

 

 

Hindu Revivalism in Social and Economic Context

 

A common feature among new Hindu communities in Java is that they

tend

to rally around recently built temples (pura) or around

archaeological

temple sites (candi) which are being reclaimed as places of Hindu

worship. One of several new Hindu temples in eastern Java is Pura

Mandaragiri Sumeru Agung, located on the slope of Mt Sumeru, Java's

highest mountain. When the temple was completed in July 1992, with

the

generous aid of wealthy donors from Bali, only a few local families

formally confessed to Hinduism. A pilot study in December 1999

revealed that the local Hindu community now has grown to more than

5000 households. Similar mass conversions have occurred in the region

around Pura Agung Blambangan, another new temple, built on a site

with

minor archaeological remnants attributed to the kingdom of

Blambangan,

the last Hindu polity on Java. A further important site is Pura Loka

Moksa Jayabaya (in the village of Menang near Kediri), where the

Hindu

king and prophet Jayabaya is said to have achieved spiritual

liberation (moksa). A further Hindu movement in the earliest stages

of

development was observed in the vicinity of the newly completed Pura

Pucak Raung (in the Eastern Javanese district of Glenmore), which is

mentioned in Balinese literature as the place where the Hindu saint

Maharishi Markandeya gathered followers for an expedition to Bali,

whereby he is said to have brought Hinduism to Bali in the fifth

century AD. An example of resurgence around major archaeological

remains of ancient Hindu temple sites was observed in Trowulan near

Mojokerto. The site may be the location of the capital of the

legendary Hindu empire Majapahit. A local Hindu movement is

struggling

to gain control of a newly excavated temple building which they wish

to see restored as a site of active Hindu worship. The temple is to

be

dedicated to Gajah Mada, the man attributed with transforming the

small Hindu kingdom of Majapahit into an empire. Although there has

been a more pronounced history of resistance to Islamization in East

Java, Hindu communities are also expanding in Central Java (Lyon

1980), for example in Klaten, near the ancient Hindu monuments of

Prambanan.

 

It is a common feature of social organization in neighboring Bali to

find temples at the hub of various networks of social affiliation

(Reuter 1998). Temples may be equally important for Hindu Javanese,

though for different reasons. Clear ethnic or clan-like divisions are

generally lacking in Javanese society, and in any case, would be too

exclusive to promote a rapid expansion of new Hindu communities. How

social relations take shape within the support networks of Javanese

Hindu temples and how they differ from those among patrons of

Balinese

temples remains to be explored, as is also true of the ritual

practice

of Javanese Hindus. Some of the resemblances observed so far seem to

reflect not only the common historical influence of Hinduism in Java

and Bali, but also a common indigenous cultural heritage shared among

these and other Austronesian-speaking societies (Fox & Sathers 1996).

 

Taking Pura Sumeru as an example, it is also important to note that

major Hindu temples can bring a new prosperity to local populations.

Apart from employment in the building, expansion, and repair of the

temple itself, a steady stream of Balinese pilgrims to this now

nationally recognized temple has led to the growth of a sizeable

service industry. Ready-made offerings, accommodation, and meals are

provided in an ever-lengthening row of shops and hotels along the

main

road leading to Pura Sumeru. At times of major ritual activity tens

of

thousands of visitors arrive each day. Pilgrims' often generous cash

donations to the temple also find their way into the local economy.

Pondering with some envy on the secret to the economic success of

their Balinese neighbors, several local informants concluded that

"Hindu culture may be more conducive to the development of an

international tourism industry than is Islam". Economic

considerations

also come into play insofar as members of this and other Hindu

revival

movements tend to cooperate in a variety of other ways, including

private business ventures which are unrelated to their joint

religious

practices as such.

 

 

Hindu Revivalism as a Utopian Movement

 

Followers and opponents alike explain the sudden rise of a Hindu

revival movement in Java by referring to the well-known prophecies of

Sabdapalon and Jayabaya. In this they reveal a number of shared

utopian and apocalyptic expectations, even though their

interpretations of the prophesies differ significantly. These mixed

expectations have been a reflection of growing popular

dissatisfaction

with the corrupt and dictatorial Suharto government in the 1990s and

until its demise in 1998, following student riots and popular

demonstrations in many major Javanese cities in the wake of the Asian

economic crisis. They also draw inspiration from a deeper crisis of

political and economic culture still current in Indonesia today. The

Indonesia's present first democratically elected government under

President Abdurahman Wahid's leadership again has attracted

criticism,

increasingly so in during recent months, as the nation continueds to

be threatened by religious conflict, secession movements in Aceh and

West Papua, and by government corruption scandals.[3] Under the new

presidency of Megawati Sukarnoputri (from 23 July 2001) this sense of

political instability is widely expected to persist. At the same time

many also fear a possible return to the repression of the Suharto

years. It is the prophesies of Sabdapalon and Jayabaya that provide

perhaps the most ready vehicle for the interpretation of these

tumultuous political events, to the members of Hindu revival

movements

as well as their opponents. The prophesies of Sabdapalon and Jayabaya

provide a ready vehicle for the interpretation of these events, to

the

members of Hindu revival movements as well as their opponents.

 

Sabdapalon is said to have been a priest and an adviser to Brawijaya

V, the last ruler of the Hindu empire Majapahit. He is also said to

have cursed his king upon the conversion of the latter to Islam in

1478. Sabdapalon then promised to return, after 500 years and at a

time of widespread political corruption and natural disasters, to

sweep Islam from the island and restore Hindu-Javanese religion and

civilization. Some of the first new Hindu temples built in Java were

indeed completed around 1978, for example Pura Blambangan in the

regency of Banyuwangi. As the prophesies foretold, Mt Sumeru erupted

around the same time. All this is taken as evidence of the accuracy

of

Sabdapalon's predictions. Islamic opponents of the Hindu movements

accept the prophesies, at least in principle, though their

interpretations differ. Some attribute the Hindu conversions to a

temporary weakness within Islam itself, laying blame on the

materialism of modern life, on an associated decline of Islamic

values, or on the persistent lack of orthodoxy among practitioners of

'Javanese Islam' (Soewarno 1981). In their opinion, the 'return of

Sabdapalon' is meant to test Islam and to propel its followers toward

a much needed revitalization and purification of their faith.

 

A further prophesy, well-known throughout Java and Indonesia, is the

Ramalan (or Jangka) Jayabaya. A recent publication on these

prophesies

by Soesetro & Arief (1999) has become a national best seller. The

predictions of Jayabaya are also discussed frequently in daily

newspapers. These ancient prophesies, indeed, are very much a part of

a current public debate on the ideal shape of a new and genuinely

democratic Indonesia.

 

The historical personage Sri Mapanji Jayabaya reigned over the

kingdom

of Kediri in East Java from 1135 to 1157 AD (Buchari 1968:19). He is

known for his efforts to reunify Java after a split had occurred with

the death of his predecessor Airlangga, for his just and prosperous

rule, and for his dedication to the welfare of the common people.

Reputed to have been an incarnation of the Hindu deity Vishnu,

Jayabaya is also the archetypal image of the 'just king' (ratu adil)

who is reborn during the dark age of reversal (jaman edan) at the end

of each cosmic cycle to restore social justice, order, and harmony in

the world. Many believe that the time for the arrival of a new ratu

adil is near (as the prophesies put it, "when iron wagons drive

without horses and ships sail through the sky [i.e. cars and

airplanes]"), and that he will come to rescue and reunite Indonesia

after an acute crisis, ushering in the dawn of a new golden age.

These

apocalyptic and utopian expectations evoke the notion of a revolving

cosmic cycle, of a glorious past declining into a present state of

moral decay, where the ideal order of things is momentarily inverted,

only to be restored again in a future that is in effect a return to

the past.

 

Hindu Javanese emphasize with pride that their ancestors Sabdapalon

and Jayabaya represent a golden pre-Islamic age. Islamic opponents,

in

turn, claim that Jayabaya was in fact a Muslim and that Sabdapalon

had

only resisted conversion because what he was confronted with at the

time was but a muddled and impure version of Islam (Soewarno 1981).

Nevertheless, Muslim and Hindu interpreters agree that this is the

time of reckoning, of major political reform if not a revolution.

They

also tend to agree that a truly democratic system of government may

only be realized with the help of a leader of the highest moral

caliber, thus blending modern notions of democracy with traditional

notions of charismatic leadership.

 

That the prophesies of Jayabaya are of profound significance to

Indonesians of very different persuasion and from all walks of life

is

illustrated by the secret visits (once before he was nominated as a

presidential candidate and again before his election) of President

Abdurahman Wahid (then head of the NU) to the ancestral origin temple

of Raja Jayabaya in Bali, the remote mountain sanctuary Pura Pucak

Penulisan.[4] After a solitary nocturnal devotion at this ancient

Hindu temple, as local priests told me, Gus Dur (the president's

popular nickname) spoke with them at length about Jayabaya's

prophesies and the imminent arrival of a new ratu adil. Opponents of

Gus Dur have prefered to identify his government with another passage

in the prophesies, which refer to "a king whose [interim] rule shall

last no longer than the life span of a maize plant".

 

In conversations in Java and Bali in late 1999, I was continuously

struck by the spirited political idealism of my informants, and their

readiness even to risk their lives in the pursuit of political

reform.

It was sobering to note that they were envisaging for their Indonesia

of the future so ideal a system of government as even western

democracies could not claim to have achieved so far. I became rather

concerned as well, in contemplating a very different attitude of

cynicism and a sense of futility that now seems to permeate political

life in western societies, and is reflected in the decline of popular

participation and the silent attrition of important democratic

institutions, such as independent universities (Ellingsen 1999).

Studying Hindu revivalism in Java, in particular, reminded me also of

persistent utopian and apocalyptic undertones in western scientific

and technological worldviews, such as the early utopian predictions

of

a new cyber-democracy among Internet users and the more recent

apocalyptic hysteria about the 'Y2K' computer bug.

 

 

Implications

 

The study of 'revival', 'millenarian', 'cargo-cult'

or 'revolutionary'

movements has a long and somewhat controversial history in the social

sciences (Schwartz 1987). A common feature identified in studies of

such movements is the linking of apocalyptic and utopian

expectations,

suggesting a tendency for people to readily believe what they most

fear or wish to be true. Most analysts have stressed the ease with

which charismatic and authoritarian leader figures can exploit such

powerful beliefs and sentiments (Adorno 1978), and how mass

manipulation may precipitate self-destructive behavior, such as

collective suicide, or bizarre acts of violence. At the same time,

social theory has produced its own visions of apocalypse and utopia,

Karl Marx' prophesy of a 'final class struggle' and subsequent

'class-less society' being the most prominent among them.

 

In both cases, the lingering impression is that highly fatalistic or

idealistic social movements are dangerous and destructive in the

extreme. This is often true enough, but not necessarily so. Utopian

expectations as such, judging by the original meaning of the word

utopia ('no-place'), do not suggest a need for a single radical

change

so much as a continuous process of reform; a striving towards an

ideal

that ultimately can not be located or reached. As for apocalypticism,

much may depend on whether it has some rational foundation. This may

well be the case in Indonesia, now poised, as it is, at a significant

historical juncture.[5]

 

A fundamental problem and simultaneously a source of inspiration for

this field of social research has been the immense variability within

the class of phenomena it seeks to describe. In the absence of a

comprehensive theoretical framework that would serve to identify

major

categories of historical, political or situational variables in the

genesis, development and outcomes of such apocalyptic or utopian

movements, reporters and researchers alike are often seduced into

focusing instead on their more obscure and sensational

features.Although there have been repeated attempts to draw this

research together under the umbrella of a single paradigm, such as

Smelser's (1962) proposal for a more general category of

'value-focused social movements', discussion continues to be

frustrated by disagreements on matters of definition and terminology.

This problem pertains to discussions both across and within the

boundaries of contributing disciplines, including anthropology,

political science, sociology, social psychology and comparative

religion. A review of the extensive and varied literature on

millenarian movements is beyond the scope of this paper.

 

Under these adverse conditions, most attempts to transcend the

specificity of particular apocalyptic or millenarian movements have

been geographically or culturally restricted, and taken shape in

discussions among groups of area specialists. The more significant

among recent advances in the field, on the basis of such regional

comparisons, have come from anthropological research on 'cargo-cult'

movements in Papua New Guinea (Stewart 2000) and on 'endtime'

movements in America (Stewart & Harding 1999).

 

This regional focusing of the discussion has paid dividends as an

interim solution, but it also has detracted attention from a broader

anthropological project of understanding idealistic social movements

as a possible modality of social change in all human societies. While

the notion of 'millenarian movements' has become a kind of gateway

concept for researchers in PNG and the USA, for example, those

working

in other regions may pay very little attention to the same topic even

though they may have cause to do so. Indonesia is one of these more

or

less neglected regions, with only a small minority of scholars caring

to comment on millenarian movements and their recent proliferation

(including Lee 1999, Timmer 2000).

 

Collaboration among fellow Indonesianists will be essential for any

future attempt to raise the level of comparative research on this

topic to the same high standard that has been achieved elsewhere.

Even

then, such a regional research project must be firmly anchored in a

general anthropological theory. Without such a broader comparative

framework to bridge the gaps between regional studies, the latter may

deteriorate, for example, into neo-colonial discourses about the

'inherent madness' of Indonesia or other non-western societies. This

particular objection has been raised most vehemently in recent

critiques of 'cargo-cult'

studies (Lindstrom 1993, Kaplan 1995).

 

While Javanese Hindu revivalism may serve as my privileged example,

an

important future aim is to develop a more general theoretical

approach

to 'value-oriented social movements', on the basis of four

hypothesis.

Namely, that these movements; 1) can occur in all human societies, 2)

are an extreme manifestation or response to social change, 3) are

informed by radical some forms of 'religious' or 'secular' idealism,

and 4) are accompanied by a heightened self-awareness among

participants of being 'agents' or 'witnesses' of societal change.

These different dimensions of idealist social movements are assumed

to

be interconnected. A heightened sense of agency and reflexivity, for

example, may reflect in different ways on underlying material and

symbolic interests that have been frustrated or denied to broad or

narrow sectors of the society concerned.

 

The link between value-based social movements and the general

phenomena of 'socio-cultural change' and 'reproduction' is a crucial

issue, and it is both complex and variable. As a force operating

within underdetermined and mutable socio-cultural worlds with limited

cohesion such movements can not be adequately described, by evoking

the metaphor of a homeostatic 'system', as either 'functional' or

'dysfunctional'. Even if we were to define cultural reproduction and

change more cautiously, as different takes on a single and largely

unpredictable historical process, some of these movements may appear

to be exerting a 'reactionary' influence while others are more

'radical' or a combination of both. Expressions of social critique

(in

relation to society as it is or is perceived) are a common theme in

the discourses produced within different value-oriented social

movements. But we may also find combinations of restorative or

visionary idealism, in different proportions, depending on whether

the

critique is focused on undesirable change or undesirable stagnation

in

the society concerned.

 

In evaluating the significance of Hindu revivalism and similar

movements in Java for the stability and future development of

Indonesian democracy, it is thus of the utmost importance to adopt a

balanced view of processes of social change and their implications.

The acute danger normally attributed to rapid social change in

general

and to idealistic social movements in particular must be weighed

against the less sensational dangers of political inactivity,

cynicism

and complacency. Rather than casting a condescending judgement on the

state of Indonesian society, the current proliferation of

millenarianism therein must be evaluated within the context of a

critical project of cross-cultural comparison. In this context, it

may

be worth pointing to the current "anti-globalization" movement in

western countries, for this movement too serves as a reminder: The

creation of a just society is a continuous, often circular, and still

unfinished project, as much for us as it is for the people of

Indonesia.

 

 

Footnotes

 

[1] Islam, for example, incorporated elements from the tribal

traditions of Arab peoples and from Jewish and Christian texts such

as

the 'Old Testament'.

 

[2] The other four state-recognized religions (agama) are Islam,

Catholicism, Protestantism, and Buddhism (mainly Indonesians of

Chinese ethnicity). Unrecognized religions are categorized by the

state as minor

'streams of belief' (aliran kepercayaan) or are simply treated as a

part of different local 'customs and traditions' (adat).

 

[3] As I am writing this, parliamentary procedures have been set into

motion so as to impeach President Abdurahman Wahid on allegations of

his involvement in corruption scandals.

 

[4] Pura Pucak Penulisan is still an important regional temple, and

was a state temple of Balinese kings from the eighth century AD

(Reuter 1998). Many statues of Balinese kings are still found in its

inner sanctum, including one depicting Airlangga's younger brother

Anak Wungsu. Literary sources suggest that intimate ties of kinship

connected the royal families of Bali with the dynasties of Eastern

Javanese kingdoms, including Kediri. Jayabaya's predecessor

Airlannga,

for example, was a Balinese prince.

 

[5] Sometimes apocalyptic expectations can reach such a pitch that

members of the movement concerned may feel a need to bring about the

very cataclysm the have been predicting. The poison gas attack in

Tokyo launched by Japan's AUM Shinokio sect is a recent example. It

is

still uncertain whether the recent bomb attacks on Javanese Christian

churches over the christmas period of 2000 were the responsibility of

radical religious groups, or were instigated by other political

interest groups wishing to destabilize the country by inciting

simmering inter-religious conflicts in Java to the same level of

violence as in the troubled Molukka Province.

 

 

 

References

 

Adorno, T. W. 1978. 'Freudian Theory and the Pattern of Fascist

Propaganda'. In A. Arato & E. Gebhardt (eds), The Essential Frankfurt

School Reader. Oxford: Basil Blackwell.

 

Bakker, F. 1995. Bali in the Indonesian State in the 1990s: The

religious aspect. Paper presented at the Third International Bali

Studies Workshop, 3-7 July 1995.

 

Beatty, A. 1999. Varieties of Javanese Religion. Cambridge: Cambridge

University Press.

 

Buchari 1968. 'Sri Maharaja Mapanji Garasakan'. Madjalah Ilmu-Ilmu

Sastra Indonesia, 1968(4):1-26.

 

Ellingsen, P. 1999. 'Silence on Campus: How academics are being

gagged

as universities toe the corporate line'. Melbourne: The Age Magazine,

11.12.1999:26-32.

 

Fox, J. & Sathers, C. (eds) 1996. Origins, Ancestry and Alliance:

Explorations in Austronesian Ethnography. Canberra: Department of

Anthropology, Research School of Pacific and Asian Studies,

Australian

National University.

 

Geertz, C. 1960. The Religion of Java. Chicago: The University of

Chicago Press.

 

Hefner, R. 1985. Hindu Javanese: Tengger Tradition and Islam.

Princeton: Princeton University Press.

 

Hefner, R. 1987. 'The Political Economy of Islamic Conversion in

Modern East Java'. In W. Roff (ed.), Islam and the Political Economy

of Meaning. London: Croom Helm.

 

Hefner, R. 1990. The Political Economy of Mountain Java. Berkeley:

University of California Press.

 

Hefner, R. 1997. 'Islamization and Democratization in Indonesia'. In

R. Hefner & P. Horvatich (eds), Islam in an Era of Nation States:

Politics and Religious Renewal in Muslim Southeast Asia. Honolulu:

University of Hawaii Press.

 

Kaplan, M. 1995. Neither Cargo nor Cult: Ritual Politics and the

Colonial Imagination in Fiji. Durham (NC): Duke University Press.

 

Lee, K. 1999. A Fragile Nation: The Indonesian Crisis. River Edge

(N.J.): World Scientific.

 

Lindstrom, L. 1993. Cargo Cult: Strange Stories of Desire from

Melanesia and Beyond. Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press.

 

Lyon, M. 1980. 'The Hindu Revival in Java". In J. Fox (ed.),

Indonesia: The making of a Culture. Canberra: Research School of

Pacific and Asian Studies, Australian National University.

 

Ramstedt, M. 1998. 'Negotiating Identity: 'Hinduism' in Modern

Indonesia'. Leiden: IIAS Newsletter, 17:50.

 

Reuter, T. 1998. 'The Banua of Pura Pucak Penulisan: A Ritual Domain

in the Highlands of Bali'. Review of Indonesian and Malaysian

Affairs,

32 (1):55-109.

 

Schwartz, H. 1987. 'Millenarianism: An overview'. In M. Eliade (ed.),

The Encyclopedia of Religion, Vol. 9:521-532. New York: MacMillan.

 

Smelser, J. 1962. Theory of Collective Behavior. London: Routledge

and

Kegan Paul.

 

Soesetro, D. & Arief, Z. 1999. Ramalan Jayabaya di Era Reformasi.

Yogyakarta: Media Pressindo.

 

Soewarna, M. 1981. Ramalan Jayabaya Versi Sabda Palon. Jakarta: P.T

Yudha Gama.

 

Stewart, K. & Harding, S. 1999. 'Bad Endings: American Apocalypsis'.

Annual Review of Anthropology 28:285-310.

 

Stewart, P.J. 2000. 'Introduction: Latencies and realizations in

millennial practices'. Ethnohistory 47(1):3-27. [special Issue on

Millenarian Movements.]

 

Timmer, J. 2000. 'The return of the kingdom: Agama and the millennium

among the Imyan of Irian Jaya, Indonesia'. . Ethnohistory 47(1):29-

65.

 

Note: Dr Thomas Reuter is Queen Elizabeth II Research Fellow at the

University of Melbourne's School of Anthropology, Geography &

Environmental Studies. This paper was published in The Australian

Journal of Anthropology and is being reproduced with their

permission.

 

 

indicjournalists/

 

indicjournalists

 

Terms of

Service.

 

 

 

 

 

New and Improved Mail - Send 10MB messages!

 

 

--- End forwarded message ---