2. Indonesia’s citizenship, multi-religiosity, and religious freedom

There are different typologies pertaining to state–religion relations. Some conceptualize them in the spectrum of state–religion unity and state–religion separation. Hosen mentions three different perspectives.Footnote ¹⁴ The first advocates state–religion unity such as in the Middle East. In contrast, the second promotes a strict separation between religious institutions and the state. The latter is discouraged from establishing and funding religious activities and/or being involved in the affairs of independent religious institutions. It is also encouraged to keep religious beliefs out of consideration in its public policies, prevent the interference of religious authorities in state affairs, and discourage political leaders from public displays of religious preference. This perspective believes that, if state financial and moral support is given to any particular religion, it will indirectly pressurize minority religions to conform to the values of the aforementioned prioritized religion. Church–state separation is therefore aimed at ensuring religious freedom.

The third perspective, on the other hand, maintains that religious freedom is protected by state policies, such as in Belgium and the UK, which have official religions. Here, although the separation of the state and religion is kept, the latter still informs moral and ethical values. Hosen writes that the state “recognizes and respects the cultural and religious heritage of its citizens, by developing a policy of benevolent neutrality towards religious groups … [which] requires the government to treat various religious groups with a policy of impartiality.”Footnote ¹⁵ Similarly, David Hollenbach maintains that religion may still indirectly influence the state, even when both entities are institutionally distinct.Footnote ¹⁶ Here, religion is considered a virtue, a common good, an inspiration, and moral obligation, and, although the state upholds a general belief in God, it does not prioritize the values of any specific religion.Footnote ¹⁷ According to Hollenbach:

The third perspective also best describes state–religion relations in Indonesia. Despite having the largest Muslim population in the world, it is a common belief that Indonesia is neither a secular nor an Islamic state. The state ideology of Pancasila, or the Five Pillars, which upholds the following values—belief in One God, Humanitarianism, National Unity, Representative Democracy, and Social Justice—shows that, while the state is not governed by any particular religion, it still espouses the values that pertain to institutionalized religions.

Due to its reluctance to prioritize one particular religion, Pancasila has been used to counter movements seeking to advocate Islam as the state ideology. These groups are dissatisfied with the 1945 Constitution’s “unclear” stance towards the position of Islam in state–religion relations. This was especially true during the Soeharto era, when Pancasila was used as a tool to repress ideologies that the state deemed to be threatening its authority. These ideologies, both the “extremism on the left” (communism) and the “extremism on the right” (radical Islam), were seen as interlinked.Footnote ¹⁹ Pancasila, considered as the embodiment of idealized traditional values, was then used to guarantee the absence of political conflict and uphold the social harmony needed for economic growth and development.

Ever since its birth, Indonesia has faced challenges pertaining to state–religion relations. Even Indonesia’s Declaration of Independence on 17 August 1945 was preceded by long deliberations on the formulation of the Constitution, especially concerning religion. Robert Hefner writes that the most contentious issue revolved not around ethnicity or whether the Chinese should be included as citizens and enjoy the same rights as the indigenous people, but around whether the state should impose different rights and duties on citizens according to their religion.Footnote ²⁰ This was exemplified in the Jakarta Charter, or Piagam Jakarta, which proposed that the Indonesian Declaration of Independence be amended to mandate the imposition of Islamic law (Syariah) by the state on all Muslim citizens.Footnote ²¹ At the last minute, however, the Charter was dropped from the final version of the Constitution in order to appease non-Muslim groups, including Christians in Eastern Indonesia, who threatened to secede if the Charter was retained, as well as to alleviate the concerns of the majority moderate Muslims about the extensive imposition of Islamic law.Footnote ²² Such removal caused resentment among those who called for the inclusion of Islamic tenets in the Constitution. It was, and is still, seen by some Muslim groups as one of the great betrayals of Islam since independence.Footnote ²³

Debates over the position of Islam in state–society relations continued in the 1950s, when the Constituent Assembly, or Konstituante, deliberated on a possible reintroduction of the Charter. President Soekarno, however, dissolved the Assembly and the national legislature to begin his period of “Guided Democracy,” which was marked by a reversion to the 1945 Constitution.

Similarly, in the post-reform era of 1999–2000, during the deliberation of proposals to amend the Constitution, members of the People’s Consultative Assembly (MPR) pushed for the inclusion of some provisions resembling the Charter. Two Islamic parties—the United Development Party (PPP) and the Crescent-Star Party (PBB)—lodged a formal proposal to amend Article 29, which regulates religion and religious freedom, by inserting Syariah into the Constitution. However, Indonesia’s largest Islamic organizations, the NU and the Muhammadiyah, both generally considered as advocates for moderate Islam, no longer supported the formal inclusion of Syariah in the Constitution. Muhammadiyah leader Syafi’i Maarif reportedly stated that “we must be committed to promoting unity, which our founding fathers declared when establishing this nation.”Footnote ²⁴ NU leader Abdurrahman Wahid also did not “aspire for an Islamic state for Indonesia and therefore rejects any ‘formalization’ of religion within the state.”Footnote ²⁵ In the legislature, the National Awakening Party (PKB), which was affiliated with the NU, and the National Mandate Party (PAN), affiliated with Muhammadiyah, subsequently rejected the bid to include Syariah in the Constitution.

The 1945 Constitution, into which Pancasila is integrated, thus informs the understanding of citizenship in Indonesia. The following are the provisions that guarantee religious freedom: first, Article 28E(1) gives citizens freedom to “embrace a religion and to worship in accordance to that religion;” second, Article 29(2) endorses Article 28E(1) by stipulating that the “state is to guarantee the independence of every citizen to embrace their respective religion and to worship in accordance to that religion and belief;” third, Article 28I(1) maintains that the right to religion, along with other constitutional rights, “cannot be limited in any way.”

This religious freedom is, however, restricted by Article 29(1), which states that “the State is based upon the belief in the One and Only God,” which leads to the assumption that the state only protects monotheistic religions. Further, the fact that the state only recognizes six religions, namely Islam, Christianity, Roman Catholicism, Buddhism, Hinduism, and Confucianism, as “religions of the people” as stipulated in the elucidation of the Law No.1/PNPS/1965 on blasphemy leads to the supposition that other beliefs that do not fall into the six categories are not sanctioned by the state. A seventh option is dubbed the “belief of One Supreme God” (Kepercayaan kepada Tuhan Yang Maha Esa), consisting of various local faiths, yet is not considered a “religion.” Although a misnomer because they are often non-monotheistic, their rights are nonetheless officially protected under Article 28E. The Constitutional Court ruled in 2017 that their adherents, like those of officially recognized religions, may indicate their faith in their national identity cards.Footnote ²⁶

Throughout the trajectory of its nationhood, instead of ensuring a common understanding of religious freedom, the Indonesian government has strengthened laws and regulations that have rendered the minorities vulnerable to discriminatory practices perpetrated by groups of the majority religion. Among these, Article 156A of the Penal Code, which criminalizes blasphemy and the defamation of religion, especially poses a serious challenge to religious freedom. This provision states:

Although the phrase “a religion that is adhered to in Indonesia” connotes that the blasphemy law can be used by any religion, in reality, it has only been successfully used by Muslims. Moreover, the article does not have clear definitions of “hostility,” “abuse,” or “defamation” of a religion, which makes it very subjective and hence susceptible to misuse. It is thus not surprising that this law has often been used by intolerant groups to penalize members of the minority groups.

In addition, as was highlighted by human rights non-governmental organizations such as Kontras, when sentencing defendants of blasphemy charges, judges would interpret “blasphemy” broadly, ranging from the issuance of statement that is deemed as having insulted a religion to the spreading of deviant beliefs.Footnote ²⁷ Numerous people have been charged and sentenced under Article 156A for various deeds, such as Lia Eden (leader of the “God’s Kingdom” group), Tajul Muluk (a Shi’ite), Ahmad Musadeq (the founder of Gafatar), Yusman Roy (a Muslim who led multilingual prayers), and Mangapin Sibuea (leader of a doomsday sect). However, the most recent high-profile victim of the blasphemy law was Basuki Tjahaja Purnama or Ahok, the Christian-Chinese former governor of Jakarta, who was sentenced to 2.5 years’ imprisonment because he cited the Quran in his campaign speech. Ahok’s case was also highly politicized, as it became an anchor for a massive Islamist mobilization that pressurized the trial and prevented Ahok’s re-election as governor.

Since the beginning of Joko “Jokowi” Widodo’s presidency in 2014, 23 people have been charged and sentenced under the blasphemy law. The most recent trial sentenced Meiliana, a Chinese-Buddhist woman in Tanjung Balai, North Sumatra, to 18 months’ imprisonment because she had complained about the noise levels of a local mosque’s loudspeaker. Complaining about the volume of a loudspeaker has thus become a new precedent for the interpretation of actions that are considered blasphemous.Footnote ²⁸ In addition to Meiliana, five other people were sentenced under the blasphemy law in 2018, namely Riano Jaya Wardhana, a local parliamentarian who issued a statement defending Ahok on social media; Firdaus, who wrote the name of God and the Prophet on his sandals; Arnoldy Bahari, a Muslim man; Abraham Moses, a Christian pastor; and a Christian student named Martinus Gulo, all of whom issued statements on social media that were deemed religiously deviant or insulting.Footnote ²⁹

UN human rights experts and groups such as the Indonesian Legal Aid Foundation have repeatedly criticized the blasphemy law. However, instead of scrapping the blasphemy law, the Ministry of Religious Affairs and the legislature seek to expand their scope in a new “religious rights protection” Bill. Article 156A defines blasphemy as “showing hostility, abuse, or desecration” toward a religion, yet the Bill expands this into seven criteria.Footnote ³⁰ Article 31 of the Bill allows for a five-year jail term for those who persuade others to convert from their original religion. Article 32 allows a six-month imprisonment for those “purposefully making noises near places of worship where people are conducting religious ceremonies.” Article 34 allows a five-year jail term for those “illegally tainting, destroying or burning a holy book, a worship house or ritual tools” without adequately explaining what constitutes “tainting.” In addition, the Bill also reinforces existing discriminatory “administrative and technical requirements” that have unfairly restricted the construction of religious minorities’ places of worship. It is thus unsurprisingly that there are genuine concerns that conservative groups could use the law to further discriminate against minority religions.Footnote ³¹

Using laws such as the blasphemy law and the 1965 decree about the six official religions, Islamic conservative groups found an excuse to curb the fulfilment of minority religions’ political and religious rights. This shows the groups’ preference for an asymmetrical citizenship, which “gives pride of place to Muslim community interests.”Footnote ³² Such asymmetry also underscores how the state is not considered a neutral mediator between different religious communities, but a guarantor of “the creation of a Muslim moral order” that includes having the “right and obligation to negatively sanction citizens seen as abusing religious freedoms by promoting deviant understandings of Islam.”Footnote ³³ The asymmetrical-citizenship concept resonates with the notion of a religiously differentiated state, whose proponents, according to Robert Hefner,Footnote ³⁴ reject democracy and nationalism while remaining unsympathetic to the rights of religious and sexual minorities. Hefner highlights that the greatest threat to Indonesia’s pluralist citizenship is thus not the aspiration for an “Islamic state,” but “an Islamic populism similar to majoritarian-minded conservatives in Western democracies, including the United States.”Footnote ³⁵

Some Islamic conservative groups’ activities since 2016 (e.g. charging members of minority religions with blasphemy) indubitably underscore the aspiration to compel the minorities to accept the majority religion’s values and interests. Interestingly, to justify undermining minorities’ voices, these groups embrace nationalism and see this as being intertwined with their religiosity. Taking the example of a conservative Islamic group based in South Sulawesi, Indonesia, Chris Chaplin shows that, although they accept the plurality of Indonesia, those who are non-Muslims (or do not belong to the Islamic tradition of the majority) are seen as not having the same sociopolitical rights.Footnote ³⁶ Religion is thus placed at the centre of state belonging: to not belong to the majority religion is to not fully belong to the Indonesian nationhood. The group believes that the threat to the Indonesian nationhood comes from ideologies considered foreign such as Syiah Islam, whose communities’ worship they have been restricting.Footnote ³⁷ Similarly, non-Muslim, or kafir, politicians are believed to be perpetrators of governance problems such as corruptions. Thus, non-Muslims should not be leaders. Unsurprisingly, the group was among those who campaigned against the Chinese-Christian former governor of Jakarta, Basuki Tjahaja Purnama (or Ahok).Footnote ³⁸ Yet, in this case, they contradicted their own principle because Ahok, a known proponent of clean governance, actually spearheaded anti-corruption measures in the city government.

This article’s discussion on a segregated citizenship benefits from the above concepts yet also discerns more clearly the hierarchy of religions (i.e. the “accepted” and “unaccepted” minorities) and the different treatments they receive from the conservative groups. As the conservative groups still “accept” the five other official religions, when they need to undermine these religions, they do so by using existing laws (i.e. by the act of “disciplining”), such as blasphemy laws or laws that restrict the construction of minority places of worship. In contrast, the conservative groups do not accept those outside of the official religions, such as the Ahmadiyah and Syiah, thus they aspire to eradicate these beliefs and re-educate their adherents to be in line with the majority religion’s values (i.e. by the act of “amputating”). Accordingly, in a segregated citizenship, “religious freedom” is seen in light of such hierarchy, with “freedom” decreasing the lower one’s religion is in the rank. Similarly, “religious harmony” is the situation in which this hierarchy is upheld. Members of minority religions who behave not in accordance with their place in the hierarchy (e.g. Ahok reciting the Quran) are seen as disrupting harmony and thus must be penalized. The conservative groups’ multiple street protests were thus not seen as disruptions; on the contrary, they were efforts to restore “religious harmony” in which the supremacy of the values of the majority religion is upheld.

3. Religious conservatism and Indonesia’s electoral politics

In August 2018, Indonesian voters were surprised by President Joko Widodo’s decision to appoint senior Muslim scholar Ma’ruf Amin as his running-mate in the 2019 presidential election. Many did not anticipate this, especially because Ma’ruf is known to be religiously conservative and the president is considered progressive-minded. As the chairman of the Indonesian Council of Ulama (MUI), Ma’ruf is known for his role in issuing fatwas or religious edicts in 2005 against “secularism, liberalism and pluralism” and against the Ahmadiyah—an Islamic movement considered deviant by Indonesian mainstream Islam.Footnote ³⁹ The first fatwa was considered one of the clearest examples of a “conservative turn” in Indonesian Islam.Footnote ⁴⁰ In addition, Ma’ruf was one of the main proponents of the fatwa accusing the former Jakarta governor, Ahok, of blasphemy and was a key expert witness in Ahok’s trial.Footnote ⁴¹ It is noteworthy that Ahok had been the president’s former ally, as he was vice governor under Jokowi when the latter was Jakarta governor from 2012 to 2014.

In addition to being involved in policies that seemed to be contradictory to the president’s stance on religious tolerance, Ma’ruf’s personal views on religious minorities raised concerns over the future of religious freedom in Indonesia. In an interview in 2012, for example, he mentioned that, with regard to interreligious relations, “diversity [should be] tolerated, yet deviation must be amputated.”Footnote ⁴² For him, “religious diversity” refers to, for example, the differences found in the rituals practised by Indonesia’s two largest moderate Islamic organizations, namely the NU, a traditionalist organization—of which Ma’ruf was the “supreme leader” until September 2018—and the progressive Muhammadiyah. Such differences, according to him, can be tolerated. However, the Ahmadiyah, who believe in the existence of a prophet after Prophet Muhammad, are deviants who cannot be tolerated and should be condemned.

Scholars mostly agree that Ma’ruf’s appointment as Jokowi’s running-mate was to “shield” the president from the possibility of a massive sectarian campaign against himself in 2019.Footnote ⁴³ However, recent political developments in Indonesia have shown that the segregation between “accepted” diversity and “unacceptable” deviations, or between “acceptable” and “unacceptable” minorities, seems to be shared by conservative Islamic groups that have formed political linkages with anti-government forces, such as the Islamic Defenders’ Front (FPI) and the National Movement of Fatwa Defenders (GNPF). FPI is notorious for its “moral policing” (e.g. ransacking pubs and restaurants during the fasting months), restriction of minority religions’ worship activities, and its aggressive closures of minority religions’ places of worship. Meanwhile, GNPF is a hard-line group whose raison d’être was the MUI 2016 fatwa on blasphemy against Ahok. GNPF, FPI, and others, spearheaded by some in the MUI leadership, had organized massive rallies against the Chinese-Christian governor in 2016–17, thereby putting pressure on the trial.

Not all Islamic groups in Indonesia subscribe to conservatism. The country has a wide spectrum of Islamic activism, ranging from moderate groups such as the NU and Muhammadiyah that are generally supportive of religious harmony, although experts would point out that these groups have minority segments that lean towards conservatism; non-violent yet hard-line groups such as the Hizbut Tahrir Indonesia (HTI), which seeks to establish a caliphate; dakwah movements such as Jemaah Tarbiyah; political parties such as the Prosperous Justice Party (PKS); to terrorist groups such as Jemaah Islamiyah (JI) and Jamaah Ansharut Daulah (JAD).

The Islamic Defenders’ Front (FPI) is an Islamist political organization founded in 1998Footnote ⁴⁴ by Muhammad Rizieq Shihab, an Indonesian of Arab descent, with the support of the military, police, and political elites to mobilize against the then student-led reform movement.Footnote ⁴⁵ The document entitled “Historical Treaty and the Line of Struggle of the FPI” (Risalah Historis dan Garis Perjuangan FPI) contains its raison d’être: first, the suffering of the Indonesian Muslims due to human rights violations perpetrated by the government; second, that there is an obligation for every Muslim to protect and maintain the dignity of Islam and the Muslims; and, third, there is an obligation for every Muslim to uphold the principle of “commanding the good and forbidding the bad” (amar ma’ruf nahi munkar).Footnote ⁴⁶ Ian Wilson writes that, in the past 20 years, FPI has “pursued a socially conservative ‘anti-vice’ and ‘anti-apostasy’ agenda against the perceived liberal excesses, ‘licentiousness’ and moral corruption of contemporary Indonesian society, which are seen as threatening the cohesiveness and integrity of the wider Islamic community.”Footnote ⁴⁷

Although the central leadership remains in Jakarta, the group has branches across the archipelago. In 2014, its leadership claimed that FPI has 7 million members,Footnote ⁴⁸ but Wilson predicted the real number to be around 150,000.Footnote ⁴⁹ At times, FPI members raid places deemed immoral, such as gambling dens and pubs selling alcohol. They have also attacked and forced the closure of religious minorities’ worship places. They regularly organize street protests, now mostly against the government. In addition, they compete against other groups that also use violence as a means to control local neighbourhoods in specific areas.

Recently, these street-level exploits have been eclipsed by their linkages with political elites, which has increased their clout over local governments and police. FPI was among those present during the questioning of the Chinese-Buddhist woman in Tanjung Balai in the night of the riot in 2016.Footnote ⁵⁰ From 2016 to 2019, FPI has been involved in episodes such as the anti-Ahok protests in the 2016–17 Jakarta election campaign, religiously charged campaigns in different regions in the 2018 regional elections, and the religiously charged campaign of Prabowo Subiyanto, the opponent of President Joko Widodo in the 2019 presidential election.

Robert Hefner writes that “one of the most significant developments in Reformasi Indonesia has been the consolidation of a new non-governmental structure of socioreligious control linking the quasi-official Majelis Ulama Indonesia (Indonesian Council of Ulama—MUI) to populist Islamic militias in society.”Footnote ⁵¹ FPI’s relationship with the MUI is certainly an example of this, as the former relied on the latter’s rulings to justify their usage of violence against groups considered deviant. Especially in relation to the Ahmadiyah, Woodward et al. write that the Saudi government that had pressurized Indonesia to take stronger action against the Ahmadiyah sponsored gatherings in 2002, which in turn contributed to outbreaks of violence against the Ahmadiyah.Footnote ⁵² Subsequently, in its 2005 fatwa, the MUI called for the Indonesian government to disband the Ahmadiyah organizations. Woodward et al. note that FPI leader Rizieq Shihab then openly called for hostility against members of the Ahmadiyah.Footnote ⁵³ The notorious group was said to be behind the multiple attacks on Ahmadiyah worship places and residential homes, for example, in West Java in 2010,Footnote ⁵⁴ 2012,Footnote ⁵⁵ and 2013,Footnote ⁵⁶ in Lombok, East Nusa Tenggara in 2005 and 2006, South Sulawesi in 2011,Footnote ⁵⁷ and in Jakarta in 2015.Footnote ⁵⁸

However, much unlike HTI, which seeks to establish a caliphate, FPI sees itself as a propagator of Indonesian “nationalism.” As it believes in the centrality of Islam in such nationalism, FPI aims to insert the Jakarta Charter into the Constitution. Piety and adherence to their brand of religious activism are considered prerequisites of patriotism. Consequently, other religious traditions are considered less nationalistic while members of “deviant” religions are considered as outwardly “foreign.”

It is interesting to observe how FPI and its supporters perceive “patriotism.” Since 2017, FPI’s leader, Rizieq Shihab, has been on the run from the law due to charges involving the exchange of sexually explicit text messages and he now resides in Saudi Arabia.Footnote ⁵⁹ However, for his followers, the fact that he left Indonesia to avoid the legal consequences of his actions does not change his image of being a “patriot.”Footnote ⁶⁰ In contrast, members of “unacceptable” minorities such as the Ahmadiyah, who were born and raised in Indonesia, and never resided anywhere else have been treated by groups such as FPI as if they were non-citizens.

Meanwhile, FPI’s stance on “accepted” minorities can be seen in its statements concerning Ahok’s alleged blasphemy. During the 2017 trial, FPI spokesman Slamet Maaruf emphasized multiple times that Ahok’s speech was indeed blasphemous and had “hurt the feelings of Muslims.” He subsequently asked the court to give Ahok the “maximum punishment … lest the Muslims seek their own justice”Footnote ⁶¹ —a statement that others might have seen as a threat. When Ahok was released in 2019, FPI reiterated that “the most important thing is not to repeat his crime and hurt the feelings of Muslims again, or he will face even worse consequences.”Footnote ⁶² It was thus implied herewith that they would vigilantly observe Ahok and other members of minority religions to keep their behaviour in accordance with the preference of the groups representing the majority religion. They have thus successfully “disciplined” Ahok, a member of a minority religion, by keeping him in his “proper place;” one should neither challenge the values of the groups representing the majority religion nor seek to hold a high public office.

4. “Disciplining” the accepted minorities: blasphemy charges and restriction of worship activities

The blasphemy charges against the former Jakarta governor Ahok in 2016–17 have marked the culmination of the Islamist influence in Indonesia’s politics. The straight-talking Christian governor had cited a verse from the Quran in his campaign visit to a north Jakarta neighbourhood in 2016. The speech was recorded and edited, and then went viral. The video, in which he insinuated that his opponents had used the verse to trick people into voting against him, angered some conservative Muslims.Footnote ⁶³ The Indonesian Ulama Council (MUI) then issued an official statement, which some considered to be a fatwa, that Ahok had indeed insulted the Holy Book. This led to a series of anti-Ahok protests that drew hundreds of thousands to the main streets of the capital, one of which took place on 2 December 2016. This massive demonstration, spearheaded by groups such as the GNPF and FPI, was later dubbed the “212” movement, which has now become the brand for the semi-consolidated, anti-government, conservative Islamic forces.

The blasphemy issue then became an anchor on which a bitter sectarian campaign was launched by the Islamists to support Ahok’s opponent, Anies Baswedan, in the Jakarta election. Anies was also backed by Prabowo Subiyanto, a former military general who was President Joko Widodo’s opponent in both the 2019 and 2014 presidential elections. This linked the blasphemy issue not only with Jakarta, but also with national politics. The five-month-long acrimoniously sectarian campaigning, which was largely devoid of any substantial debate on important issues such as city governance or leadership accountability, led to Ahok’s losing his bid for re-election.

In the trial in May 2017, closely watched by hundreds of members of hard-line groups, Ahok was sentenced to 2.5 years’ imprisonment for blasphemy. This decision surprised many, first because the verdict was harsher than expected.Footnote ⁶⁴ The prosecutors had previously sought a lighter sentence of a two-year probation with a possible one-year jail term for hate speech under Article 156 of the Penal Code and not for blasphemy under Article 156A. However, the judges ruled that Ahok was guilty of blasphemy and sentenced him as such. Second, the judges appeared to have neglected the social context of Ahok’s speech, in which he had intended to address growing intolerance and discrimination against minorities. Instead, they seemed to believe that the governor had the intention to blaspheme.

Third, seeing that the governor was already defeated by Anies Baswedan, the candidate supported by the conservatives, many supporters of Ahok had thought that there would be a political trade-off that would allow him to be acquitted if he lost the election. However, this did not happen. Lastly, the verdict was released in the aftermath of the banning of HTI—a group calling for a united Islamic caliphate whose flags were frequently seen in the anti-Ahok demonstrations. Some Ahok supporters had considered the banning a welcome move by the government against intolerant groups. However, the Islamist pressure seemed to have successfully influenced the court’s ruling.

Unsurprisingly, the Ahok trial also attracted international concern. International media considered it a trial on Indonesia’s religious toleranceFootnote ⁶⁵ and a challenge to “Indonesia’s multi-ethnic and pluralist society in a way it hasn’t been for years.”Footnote ⁶⁶ UN human rights experts and Amnesty International also expressed concern over the sentence and called for a review.Footnote ⁶⁷ Ahok himself did not appeal against the sentence, most probably to avoid an even larger sectarian lash against the government.

The “212” movement has now become an anti-government force that mobilizes conservative sentiments on issues pertaining to religion and other policies.Footnote ⁶⁸ Their “reunion” in Jakarta in December 2018 was attended by hundreds of thousands and used by Prabowo’s camp as a campaign platform.Footnote ⁶⁹ Prabowo had signed a political pact with GNPF, the organizer of the 212 movement, promising that he would prioritize “religious people’s interests” if he won the presidential election.Footnote ⁷⁰ Among the pledges he made was to “safeguard the officially recognized religions from blasphemy, insult and defamation, … by conducting law-enforcement actions, in accordance to regulations” and to guarantee the safe return of Rizieq Shihab, FPI’s leader, who is on the run from the law and now resides in Saudi Arabia.

Ahok’s blasphemy case has thus been successfully used by the Islamists to gain a foothold in Indonesia’s mainstream politics. Meanwhile, the government seems uninterested in abolishing the blasphemy law. In September 2017, Indonesia rejected 58 human rights recommendations by UN member countries, including the recommendations to abolish the blasphemy law and the death penalty, that were aimed at improving its human rights record as part of its Universal Periodic Review before the UN Human Rights Council.Footnote ⁷¹

The latest victim of the blasphemy law was Meiliana, a Buddhist woman from Tanjung Balai town in North Sumatra. In August 2018, she was sentenced to 18 months in prison by the Medan District Court for blasphemy. She was charged with blasphemy because she had complained about the volume of the call for prayer at her neighbourhood mosque in July 2016.

Her complaint about the mosque’s prayer volume angered some local people, among whom she had lived for years. Despite her husband’s apology, she and her husband were taken to the neighbourhood chief’s office for a “discussion” with the management of the mosque. Before any agreement was reached, agitated mobs had gathered on the streets. A rumour had spread that a Chinese person had tried to prevent a mosque from sounding the call for prayer. The mob began throwing rocks at Meiliana’s house and, later, some temples and other Chinese residences. The police were able to control the situation by dawn but, by then, 12 temples, two social-foundation premises, and two houses were already damaged by the rampage.Footnote ⁷² It is, in fact, rare for Buddhist or Taoist institutions to be victims of religious hardliners. One precedent took place in West Kalimantan in 2007, when an accident led to a dispute between Malay and Chinese neighbours. Rumours then spread that a Chinese person had disrupted an Islamic prayer session, precipitating a riot that similarly led to the vandalism of a Chinese temple. It is noteworthy that both incidents in 2007 and 2016 were thus instigated by rumours that a Chinese person had insulted Islam. In the West Kalimantan case, as in Tanjung Balai, interethnic disputes involving the Chinese took on a religious facade, with retaliation targeted at religious premises because of the perceived injury to Islamic institutions and piety.Footnote ⁷³

In the aftermath of the Tanjung Balai riot, Islamic religious leaders recognized the existence of deep-seated social tensions. The NU claimed that the roots for the conflict were to be found in the social and economic disparities between the communities. The MUI, while blaming social media for the attack, also claimed that there were feelings of “injustice, oppression and powerlessness” among Muslims in Tanjung Balai.Footnote ⁷⁴

Following the riot, hard-line organizations such as Islamic Forum (FUI), HTI, and others pushed the local MUI to issue a fatwa of blasphemy on the case, which the latter rejected. However, in January 2017, North Sumatra’s MUI finally issued a fatwa that Meiliana had defamed Islam by uttering negative comments about the call for prayer, which is part of Islamic law. It is most likely due to the groups’ pressures that the police conducted a series of preliminary hearings that led to the naming of Meiliana as a suspect in the blasphemy case in March 2017.

The 2016 incident was not the first involving an “attack” on a religious-minority place of worship in Tanjung Balai. In May 2010, shortly before local elections, hardliner groups demanded that a temple remove a six-metre-tall statue of Buddha from its roof. Protesters were concerned that it would become an icon of the town, which is predominantly Muslim. This was led by a legislative representative for Tanjung Balai who was running for mayor in the town’s election.Footnote ⁷⁵ In the following years, the pressure from the community and the local government to remove the statue kept mounting, until it was finally taken down in 2016, in the aftermath of the aforementioned riot.

This Tanjung Balai incident marked one among the many restrictions imposed in practice by religious hardliners. Setara Institute has recorded that in 2016 alone there were 270 acts of violation of religious freedom, and 130 of these were perpetrated by non-state actors.Footnote ⁷⁶ In their acts, hardliner groups oftentimes use laws to condone acts of intolerance. One of these laws is the 2006 Joint Regulation of Minister of Home Affairs and Minister of Religious Affairs on the construction of places of worship. Under this regulation, those aspiring to build a place of worship must collect 60 signatures of local residents.Footnote ⁷⁷ In practice, it is difficult for minorities to get the consent of the members of the majority religion.

This law is also often used by hardliners to force the closure of places of worship, especially churches, claiming that they have not complied with the law’s stipulations such as the signature rule or have not received permission from the local Ministry of Religious Affairs office. The congregations of two churches in Bogor and Bekasi have been holding their Sunday masses in the open outside the Jakarta Presidential Palace since 2012 in protest against the forced closure of their churches. Meanwhile, local governments seem unable to control the hardliners and sometimes even court them as political constituents.

At the national level, in order to curb religious conservatism, President Jokowi in 2017 issued a law banning organizations deemed not in accordance with Pancasila. While the law was praised by Jokowi’s supporters who were weary of the conservatives’ exploits, it still harked back to harsher tactics in the Soeharto authoritarian era, when Pancasila was used to repress any dissenting voices against the government.Footnote ⁷⁸ The law hence elicited protests from proponents of liberal democracy and human rights groups.

5. “Amputating” the unaccepted minority: the plight of Ahmadiyah and Syiah

While the blasphemy case against Ahok and Meiliana, the destruction of Ahok’s political career, and the sporadic attacks against churches and temples can be seen as an act of “disciplining” by the hard-line majority toward the “accepted” minorities, the brutal and systematic attacks suffered by the Ahmadiyah and the Syiah can be classified as an act of “amputating” those considered by the hardliners as “deviant.” These communities are generally seen as posing a threat to the integrity of the ummah—the Muslim community.Footnote ⁷⁹ While the attacks against “accepted” minorities are aimed at restricting their activities, the attacks on “unaccepted” groups are precipitated by the fear of their development and thus aimed at halting the growth of the groups and protecting the purity of the mainstream Sunni Muslim community.

The two largest moderate Islamic organizations—the NU in 1929 and the Muhammadiyah in 1938—had decreed that Ahmadiyah was deviant.Footnote ⁸⁰ In 1980, the Indonesian Ulama Council (MUI) issued a fatwa that decreed Ahmadiyah a deviant sect. This was reiterated in another MUI fatwa in 2005. These fatwas have led to the decades of attacks against the Ahmadiyah community, with the national and the local governments failing to protect the community. Local governments at times even indirectly sanction the attacks by issuing local regulations that are anti-Ahmadiyah in nature.

In May 2018, the Ahmadiyah community in East Lombok, West Nusa Tenggara province suffered the latest in a series of attacks that had been ongoing since March. Around eight homes were ransacked by mobs, forcing 24 people—mostly women and children—to seek shelter at the local police office. The representative of West Nusa Tenggara’s Ahmadiyah revealed that this was the third attack in that village, but the perpetrators were never caught. An administrator at the Indonesian Ahmadiyah Congregation (JAI) believed that such repeated attacks reflect “a legal uncertainty and the government’s ignorance of hatred and intolerance suffered by groups that are different.”Footnote ⁸¹

Lombok, where many Indonesian Ahmadis live, has witnessed multiple attacks in the past decades, culminating in 2002 when 62 homes were ransacked by mobs over a one-week period. Members of the community have had to move frequently, while those who tried to return have faced more attacks. According to the Lombok representative, 114 out of a total of 300 Ahmadis in Lombok continue to be displaced. The JAI has demanded that the police guarantee the safety of Ahmadiyah communities everywhere in Indonesia, which total 500,000 people according to the JAI’s 2001 survey,Footnote ⁸² as well as protect their homes and places of worship. However, in practice, the police are not able to prevent the attacks or prosecute the perpetrators, many of whom are members of hard-line groups such as the Islamic Defender Front (FPI).Footnote ⁸³

In July 2018, the Constitutional Court rejected an application for judicial review of the Law No.1/PNPS/1965 on blasphemy that was filed by members of the Ahmadiyah. According to them, this law, particularly Articles 1, 2, and 3, had been used multiple times to support the forced closure of Ahmadiyah’s places of worship. The appeal was launched in 2017 and was rejected after 13 hearings.Footnote ⁸⁴ The MUI supported the Constitutional Court’s decision, expressing their concern that “mockeries and blasphemy are rampantly perpetrated by those who aim to disrupt the harmony of the ummah within the framework of a united Indonesia,”Footnote ⁸⁵ thereby portraying the Ahmadiyah community as the perpetrators and not the victims of the disruption.

The Syiah (Shi’ite) community has also been suffering from attacks in the recent decade, one of the major ones taking place in 2012, when mobs attacked the Syiah community in Sampang, Madura Island, East Java, during a holiday that took place eight days after the Idul Fitri Day, or the end of the fasting month. The attack, which killed one person, forced hundreds of members of the community to flee their homes to seek safety in Sidoarjo, a town in the mainland East Java. Prior to the attacks, witnesses mentioned that some non-Syiah people were seen knocking at the Syiah homes to ask whether the inhabitants were “still Syiah” and whether they would not want to “repent.” In the aftermath of the attack, with their multiple pleas to return home having been rejected by the locals in Sampang, around 335 Syiah adherents now still live as refugees in Sidoarjo.Footnote ⁸⁶ According to a 2012 prediction, there were 2.5 million adherents of Syiah in Indonesia, the majority of whom lived in Bandung, Makassar, and Jakarta.Footnote ⁸⁷

To prevent the attacks against minority groups, local governments resorted to limiting the religious rights of minority groups instead of curbing the activism of conservative groups. For the Syiah case, for example, the mayor of Bogor, West Java issued a letter in 2015 that prohibited the Syiah from celebrating Asyura on the 10th day of the Muharram month in order to maintain order and security. This decision illustrates what Najib Burhani dubbed the “conservative mental construct,” which is the premise that harmony can be reached by compromising the freedom of minority religions.Footnote ⁸⁸ This also explains what happened in Sampang. The displacement of Syiah adherents from Sampang to another place has made Sampang more homogenous and thus preserved its “harmony.”

The attacks against Syiah and Ahmadiyah have thus been mainly triggered by the fear that they would grow larger and pose a challenge to the hegemony of the Sunni tradition in Indonesia. Therefore, the hardliners seem to believe that, while these minority groups are still small, they need to be curbed, their values realigned, and their adherents re-educated so as to be in accordance with the majority.

6. Conclusion: “Godly nationalism,” “segregated citizenship,” and religious freedom

In conclusion, Menchik’s concept of “Godly nationalism”Footnote ⁸⁹ may describe hard-line groups’ treatment of the “accepted” and “non-accepted” minorities. In light of this “nationalism,” there are several important aspects to consider. First, while these groups generally accept electoral democracy as means of political succession, faith to them is prevalent over other values and religion is considered central to nationalism and citizenship. Having a religion is thus a prerequisite to being admitted to the nationhood. Second, there is a strong conviction that one must belong to one of Indonesia’s six officially recognized religions to belong to civil society and enjoy the benefits of citizenship, in particular, religious freedom. Nationalism therefore depends on which religion an individual adheres to. Pertaining to “segregated citizenship,” conservative Muslims may have no problem with Christians or Buddhists having access to citizenship (i.e. being able to vote and receive government services) but this does not mean that they have the right to hold high public office or to proselytize freely.Footnote ⁹⁰ The act of “disciplining,” such as using the blasphemy law to end Ahok’s political career or citing discriminatory local and national laws to legitimize forcing the closure of places of worship, partly ensures that “accepted” minorities have only limited access to citizenship. Third, those whose religions do not fall within the six categories, such as the Syiah and Ahmadiyah, are considered less nationalistic, thus “foreign,” and therefore denied access to the state’s resources and protection. There is also a conviction that they need to be restricted or re-educated into a proper Islamic religion.

Lastly, nationalism relies on the interpretation of non-state actors, which can change according to the context and political interests of individuals. This “segregated citizenship” bodes well with the hardliners’ efforts to position identity politics at the centre stage of Indonesia’s mainstream politics. In the context of the 2019 presidential election, both presidential candidates formed linkages with conservative Islam; President Jokowi appointed Ma’ruf Amin as his vice-presidential candidate, and Prabowo signed a pact with firebrand ulamas affiliated with the GNPF. The blasphemy law, despite much international concern, will not be abolished any time soon. During the 2019 presidential campaign, a Chinese-Christian first-timer politician from a new political party supporting Jokowi made a statement that her party would not support discriminatory local laws based on “the Bible or Sharia;” she was reported, by a firebrand politician, to the police for alleged blasphemy.Footnote ⁹¹ The blasphemy law will continue to be used as a means to chastise the minorities, especially where there are political interests involved.

It is difficult for the government to control the practice of religious freedom, as conservative politicians seem to gain a foothold in the legislature. Recently, there was a deliberation on the Bill of “Islamic boarding schools and religious education” that resulted in protests among Christian communities. The Bill would regulate Christian Sunday schools by requiring that they be treated like Islamic boarding schools and by imposing a minimum requirement of 15 students before a class could be conducted. This is an example of a lack of understanding of different modes of non-formal education outside of Islam that has led to pressures on minority religions to conform to the values and practices of the majority religion.

This “segregated citizenship” between the majority who fully belong, the accepted minorities who are tolerated, and unaccepted minorities who are “foreign” also influences the concept of “religious harmony.” Minorities who do not behave in accordance with their assumed position in the hierarchy are thus seen as “disrupting” harmony. Ahok, who cited a verse from the Holy Book, Meiliana, who complained about the volume of a mosque’s loudspeakers, or the adherents of Ahmadiyah who pleaded to worship in their own mosques are seen as disrupting the public order sustained by the hierarchy of citizenship upon which the hegemony of the majority religion is upheld.