Sunarwoto

Historically speaking, what so called-abangan (lit. red) was a part of Javanese plural Muslims. However, for those who consider themselves to be pious, abangan refers to those who have failed to perform Islamic obligations properly. It is therefore not surprising that they are often viewed as marginal people and sometimes as threat to devout Muslims.

It is a coincidence that on November, 12 Prof M. C. Ricklefs, an Australian historian, delivered public lecture at the biweekly seminar of Islamic studies, Leiden University, Netherlands. He dealt with the issues contained in his Polarising Javanese Society: Islamic and Other Visions (c. 1830-1930) (KITLV, 2007). It is interesting that in chapter four of his work he spells out the birth of abangan. As known, an anthropologist Clifford Geertz (d. 2006) in his The Religion of Java (1962) introduced this term in the academic field for the first time. According to Geertz, there are three variants of Javanese Muslims: abangan, santri and priayi. This typology, however, has attracted many scholarly debates among Western and Muslims (see Huub de Jonge, 1994). In line with this, Ricklefs sees that Geertz’s theory must be revisited. In addition to historical objection, Javanese society, in fact, has considerably changed from time to time.

The Typology of Javanese Muslims
Once again, abangan cannot be divorced from Javanese Muslim society. It is true, according to Ricklefs, that since the sixteenth century Sufism or Islamic mysticism dominated the nuance of Javanese Islam. Remarkably, Pakubuwana II, who reigned Mataram in the eighteenth century, seems to have played a vital role in the process of blending Javanese culture and Islam. However, among the characteristics of Javanese Islam can be spelled out as follows. To begin with, Islam became a vital identity for Javanese society. However, they still held pre-Islamic beliefs. Taking Sultan Mangkubumi II and Sultan Mangkunegara as examples, the two Javanese sultans were very committed to Islam, without discarding their old Javanese beliefs. Secondly, many Islamic teachings are uncommonly found in the Javanese manuscripts (serat). Serat Wulangreh by Pakubuawana IV, for instance, contains the command of prayers five times a day. Thirdly, Javanese Muslims still believed in the local animism and dynamism, such as spiritual powers. However, almost all of these characteristics have considerably changed, especially during the last part of the nineteenth century when the wave of Islamic reform took place.

According to Ricklefs, the term abangan was used as early as in the late nineteenth century. This can be seen in the works of Dutch Christian missionaries, such as Poensoen and Ganswijk in Kediri, East Java, W. Hoezoo in Semarang, Harthoom in Majawarna (near Jombang). They observed this abangan tendency in various parts of Java. At that time, however, the term abangan was not used as an opposition to santri, as did Cliffort Geertz with it. Instead, it was rather juxtaposed to putihan (lit. whiteness). The term also did not refer specifically to Muslims, but it covers non-Muslims as well. In 1861, for instance, Hoezoo found that in Majawarna Christians called their Muslim neighbours as wong abangan (the red people) and wong kapir (the infidels), disregarding their religious piety.

It is interesting that a Javanese newspaper, Jurumartani (1867), told that a kyai (religious leader) referred himself as kaum dhusun. In his conflict with his son-in-law, Pun Diman—who was himself a son of a kyai—the father-in-law called Pun Diman abangan. Another abangan appears in a poem published in another newspaper, Bramartani in 1879. The story goes that Nur Yakimbala confessed himself as a santri for eight years, but he then converted to abangan or abritan. Thus, the term abangan was used quite early.

However, when Islamic reform took place in 1880s, the distinction between abangan and putihan became more obvious. Putihan community, which used to be mere minority, gradually distinguished themselves from abangan one. In Kediri, for instance, Poensoen found that the abangan-putihan dichotomy seems to be clear in their educational direction. Young men of putihan community were instructed to read the Quran and to write Arabic script, instead of Javanese one. On the other hand, the Dutch Indies government was only concerned with educating those who were able to read Javanese script.

It is also interesting to see the dichotomy of abangan and putihan with regard to their social classes. The kaum putihan generally came from middle class: better in terms of economy due to their business activities, clothing, housing, and behaving. They also did not commit using opium and gambling. They practiced the main teachings of Islam. In short, they raised their children in better education. By contrast, the kaum abangan came from the lower class.
Given these facts, however, two out of three characteristics of “Javanese Muslims” can be found in putihan community. Only the last one can be applied to abangan. “When the devout Muslim became more pious, the abangan were ‘beginning to become less religious and pious,” says Poensoen, as also quoted by Ricklefs.

Placing Religion
What we have learned is that Islam has become identity for Indonesian society for a long time. It is not surprising that a part of the awareness of Indonesian nationalism was also born from Islamic spirit (see, for instance, Michael Laffan, The Umma Below the Wind, 2003). Sadly, recent polarisation within Indonesian Muslims seems to indicate that Islam has played no important role anymore in gluing them again. It seems also that Islam as identity have gradually exhausted. This resulted from, among other things, any attempts of imposing only a single interpretation of Islam. Strangely enough, this single interpretation sometimes used physical means to force others. This can be seen in the cases of Ahmadiyah, al-Qiyadah, and Pengajian Quran Suci.

It seems clear that the “official Islam” has failed to accommodate the plural Indonesian Muslims. Monopoly toward Islam will result in nothing but social disorder. Sadly, the state does not provide enough guarantee to this religious plurality. Given these facts, cultural aspects of our religious life have become worn out. One might wonder, for instance, whether religious edicts pronounced by Indonesian Ulama Council (MUI) which forced many deviant sects to repent will lead to better Islamic umma. Or, did the emergence of many new sects indicate wider socio-cultural gap among Indonesian Muslims? If so, how should we position this religion in our society? God knows the truth, wa Allah a‘lam bi al-sawwab.[]

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The writer is student of Islamic Studies, Faculty of Arts, Leiden University, The Netherlands and a fellow at The Indonesian Young Leaders (IYL). He can be contacted via email: sunny_dema@yahoo.com