Written by Jekonia Tarigan
In the ancient Bugis creation myth, the creator is an androgynous god who gives birth to a male sun and a female moon. Quarrels occur between the two, and they will not live together. Meanwhile, both were capable of self-fertilization, the sun was unable to reproduce, and it was the moon that gave birth to the stars, certain metals (gold, iron), and the first generations of plants, animals and other ‘terrible’ creatures. A reconciliation between the sun and the moon took place shortly after the last of the various creations appeared. This led to the division of power and the union of the two, from which came the gods celebrated at I La Galigo. The Bugis cosmogonic myth counts the web among ‘terrible’ creations, all of which are full of divine powers.[i] However, the prolificacy of conservative Islam has affected non-normative gender and sexuality groups’ experience and construction of identity, as it has impacted the Bissu community in South Sulawesi. The Bissu can be categorized as pan-indigenous, including gender, sexual, and/or spiritual identity. Within indigenous communities with androgynous concepts in their cosmology, the Bissu have culturally specific ceremonial and social roles in the Bugis culture. The question then is, how the Bissu have encountered confrontation and acceptance within their queer indigenous body and spiritual space and how it has impacted their ability to partake and learn their religion and culture? This question became the main issue of the presentation and discussion of the Wednesday Forum on October 12, 2022, a forum organized by the Indonesian Consortium for Religious Studies (ICRS) and the Center for Religious and Cross-Cultural Studies (CRCS). The presentation was delivered by Petsy Jessy Ismoyo, a PhD Candidate at ICRS. She is also a lecturer at the International Relations Study Program, Universitas Kristen Satya Wacana. Currently, she joined Secularity, Islam, and Democracy in Indonesia and Turkey (SIDIT), Humboldt University of Berlin, as part of a fellowship with the Institut für Auslandsbeziehungen (IFA).

In her presentation, Ismoyo explained that the myth of the androgynous ancestor exists because of the closeness to the universal religious system of the Austronesian people Three worlds – are also present in Attoriolong: the Upper World (Botting Langi‘), the Middle World (Lino or Ale Kawa), and the Underworld (Peretiwi). Union Sun and Moon came with three sets of twins: iron twins, silver twins, golden twins (Earth, Moon, and Sun), and a boneless only child who was a silver and gold twin. This only child grew the first rice. This single ancestor is called androgynous because it has no twin and represents silver (the Moon) and gold (the Sun) – because of that difference, androgynous ancestors became sacred. Furthermore, culturally, Bissu have specific ceremonial roles. The Bissu speak Basa To Ri Langi, this language only comes to people who are possessed by spirits; it comes by night and cannot be received by oroané or makkunrai, only by ‘the in-between.’

To guard Arajang (Pusaka)/regalia guardians, shamans and healers, others specialize in the meticulous preparation of offering, while others simply are attached to a palace. They must carry out sacred ceremonies in the kingdom Mappalili in Pangkep Regency (a ceremony to ask for permission from Sangiang Serri’ to start planting rice), Massapo Wanua in Soppeng Regency (Ritual ‘memagari kampung’ to prevent evil things from occurring in the village), Maccera’ Tappareng in Wajo Regency (offering ceremony to Puna Wae/Penguasa Danau Tempe), Mattompang Arajang in Bone Regency (a ritual to cleanse heirlooms). To balance the knowledge that chaos preceded creation (cosmos), the ritual requires the encounters of the two sexes to come together to comprehend the balance of the cosmos. The Bissu had to accommodate two elements of the sexes, male and female characteristics, as their way to experience the two realms: the realms of beings and the realms of the spirit. In order to achieve that, the Bissu had to disguise themselves with female attributes. In rituals, the Bissu Bone wear Baju Bodo or Baju Garusu (adat clothes worn by Bugis women), Tappi Olareng (Keris or a dagger), Tali Bannang (long belt), as well as feminine items: Osso-osso (long shirt), Silora (trousers), Passengke’ Simpuru (headband), along with Maddampella (artificial flowers), Geno Mabule Tellu (three-tier necklace) and Passapu Tappi (a shawl decorated with Unrai Macalla or a series of beads). The cross-dressing practice does not mean that the performer wants to change sex but emphasizes that the fluid androgynous nature is a primordial totality in which all forms merge into one, with respect for the common opposite.

Unfortunately, according to Ismoyo, the emergence of Islamic conservatism has brought into question the position of the Bissu in Bugis society because their gender identity violates religion. Whereas gender at one point was not a problem, it is now at the center of the debate within religious narratives. The most crucial thing is an attempt to eliminate the role of the Bissu in rituals, as happened in the sacred ritual Mattompang Arajang in Hari Jadi Bone ke-692. Supposedly, the role of the Bissu should not be eliminated, yet the ritual still took place without their presence. On this basis, the role of the sacred position of the Bissu is defined by its gender identity from a religious perspective. The emergence of Islamic conservatism has brought into question the position of the Bissu in Bugis society because their gender identity violates religion. Therefore, it is necessary to reunderstand queer spiritual space to untangle how the intertwining of religion and culture moves in ‘the ruling knowledge’ to see and place the Bissu in their everyday lives.

In understanding queer spiritual space, Ismoyo argues that it must begin with an attempt to define it and see where Bissu stand in the effort to apprehend queer spirituality and its spiritual space. Religious communities have usually been malicious and contradictory towards queer people. The integration of religion, spirituality, and sexuality is believed to be incongruent from a conservative point of view. Spirituality implies prescribed moral conduct and the practice of being that cannot be violated. These arguments have been used to justify why being queer is immoral. However, according to Ismoyo, queers have an agency of their own, a reproductivity to be engaged and to perform their identity through it. Queer spiritual spaces are transitory, liminal, provisional, fragile, strategic mutable, contested, negotiable, and multifarious. Therefore, spiritual space is not only a matter of ‘space’, because the sacred place is everywhere, from buildings, mountains, trees, stones, woods, cemetery, or even in each cultural practice one does, for instance, participating in community events, walking in the road, singing, cooking, and living everyday life. As an intrinsic meaning, spirituality could be conceptualized as a strong feeling of innermost connection and interaction with something superior or sacred, which is meaningful in pursuing transcendental purposes. Spirituality in its nature is dynamic, not static, since it grows, diminishes, or changes throughout time. Despite its personal character, spirituality can also represent a cultural and shared journey involving interweaving different encounters that lead to various experiences and ways of living the same faith.

Finally, for Ismoyo, the confrontation happened in terms of the structure of adat; the Bissu should be given explicit support to the participation in decision-making. Acceptance remains within the Bugis society. It occurred due to the pangaderreng rooted and practised by the Bugis people. It can be noticed in the acceptance of families, relatives, and the community regarding ‘the coming out process by the ‘calabai‘ before they become Bissu. However, accepting the Bissu is only possible in a limited way within the spectrum of Islam. Queer spiritual space emerges as a journey of life, a pilgrimage, and a movement – in the process of coming out to living out, relationships with family, relatives, and society, to the awareness of gender identity, sexuality, and gender expression of the Bissu’s activity as a social actor in everyday life indicates ’embodied resistance’ (resistensi yang menubuh) through the learning of Attoriolong (pangngaderreng) and Islam (Rukun Islam and Rukun Iman). Sacredness is expressed in their spirituality of everyday practices (everyday sacred consisted of Islamism sacred & Indigenous sacred). Their asceticism is also socio-centric, not egocentric. It consists of productive and participatory zuhud (not ascetic self-alienation), shown in their roles in rituals and their contingency of identity in everyday life.

[i] Leonard Y Andaya et al., “The Bissu: Study of a Third Gender in Indonesia,” Gender in Focus [Internet]. Toronto: Verlag Barbara Budrich, 2018, 64–87. P. 73

Written by Jekonia Tarigan

Work on gender and gender relations in Indonesia has demonstrated that gender matters in the discussion of state, including the country’s politics, religion, and civil society, often because the question of women’s authority[i]. Regarding religion, especially in Islam, the authority and legitimacy as ulama is an important issue because the legitimacy of Muslim women as ulama is always related to the rights that society ascribes to them to interpret religious texts and issue fatwas in response both to the daily concerns of their followers (jamaah) and to urgent social problems. These issues were the topics of discussion for the October 5th Wednesday forum, a weekly discussion forum organized by the Indonesian Consortium for Religious Studies (ICRS) and the Center for Religious and Cross-Cultural Studies (CRCS). The presenter on this occasion was Nor Ismah. She is a researcher at Leiden University in the Netherlands. Her Ph.D. research focuses on women issuing fatwas and community-based authority in Java, Indonesia. She also serves as curriculum review and institute development consultant at Musawah, a global feminist movement based in Malaysia. Recently, she was appointed as the director of LPPPM of Nahdlatul Ulama University in Yogyakarta.

In her presentation, Ismah explained that women issuing fatwas in everyday practices exemplifies two different ways of fatwa-giving. Firstly, the everyday fatwa-giving at the local level; it is everydayness of fatwa-giving by women. Secondly, the practice of fatwa-giving in the public sphere, involving hundreds of female Islamic scholars from different backgrounds, on controversial issues and at a site that is politically contested. Therefore, the questions are: How can we explain the proliferation of women leaders who give fatwas as a fact of life in Indonesia both at the local and national levels and how are these practices related to fatwa-giving that has been carried out so far in Indonesia, mostly by men and by male-dominated Islamic organizations? In conducting her research, Ismah uses anthropological approaches and gender perspective. From an anthropological perspective, in studying fatwa, Ismah aims to look at the everyday interactions between mufti and Muslim believers in the process of istifta‘ (seeking fatwas), and how that communication takes place in practice. Moreover, Ismah argues that the gender perspective that she used does not rely on the observation of a single established institution or fatwa council, rather, conducting a multi-site study as the fatwa is a scattered phenomenon; the approach, then, has been to follow the women (women’s experience as source of knowledge).

Through her research for the Rahimsa’s PUP Network (Kongres Ulama Perempuan Indonesia, pesantren and Nahdlatul Ulama background), desk research and ethnographic fieldwork in 2017, and interviews and observation with 30 interlocutors and more intensively with four female ulama, each from West Java, Central Java, Yogyakarta, and East Java, Ismah found four sites related to women’s legitimacy and authority regarding fatwa making. In the fatwa institution as the first site, Ismah found that female ulama most often become ‘observers and participants’ in the fatwa deliberations and do not hold positions as forum leaders. This is because religious authority and fatwa-giving are primarily performed by men; women can only really have authority when they ‘play the same role as men’. Therefore, to get space in a male-dominated organization, women need to have a position and network in the organization and demonstrate their Islamic knowledge.

Interestingly, the grassroots level is the second site. At this level, Ismah found that female ulama play important roles as religious guides and fatwa-givers for their religious followers, many of them developed a passion for teaching and working with communities through their parents and family, who are often also ulama or pesantren leaders. Ismah argues that their achievements are not determined solely, or even primarily, by their family background or related prestige.  The extent to which female ulama can exert authority depends on the effort they make to approach and engaging with the community and the support they receive from both family and community. Therefore, according to Ismah, in this context, the juristic authority of women can become more or less established depending on ‘bottom-up certification.’

However, Ismah found that the women ulama try to solve problems in the first site and the second site through activism and social movements, especially through Kongres Ulama Perempuan Indonesia (KUPI) 2017. Through this, female ulama play important roles as collective fatwa-givers concerning issues that are considered more controversial. Female ulama realize that fatwa is a key device for doctrinal change. Thus, female ulama can campaign to change biased doctrines into more progressive interpretations. Female ulama within the network combine community-based activism with the KUPI framework as a new method for interpreting Islamic texts. Furthermore, Ismah also found that female ulama also use magazines, namely Swararahima, Aulia, and NooR to correspondend with their followers. There are several key agents here, the readers who send in questions, the broader audience who read the questions and answers, female ulama who provide the answers, and the editorial staff of the magazines. However, although fatwa making is mediated rather than involving direct face-to-face communication, fatwa giving emerges as an interactive, ethical process.

Therefore, Ismah concludes that studying women who issue fatwas from an anthropological and gender perspective reveals fatwas with a variety of terms, meanings, and practices. The practices of making fatwas by women shows fatwas as a disruptive practice. When these widespread fatwa-making practices are made visible, revealing women’s engagement, they can shift the entire discourse around the fatwa, disrupting the idea of male domination. Fatwa as a medium to demonstrate juristic authority not only occurs in the context of religious institutions, but can also become part of the Islamic feminist movement. That has had two significant implications in the Third World Women’s movement.

[i] Eva F Nisa, “Muslim Women in Contemporary Indonesia: Online Conflicting Narratives behind the Women Ulama Congress,” Asian Studies Review 43, no. 3 (2019): 434–54. p. 2 https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/10357823.2019.1632796

Written by Maurisa Zinira

Although the right to expression is guaranteed in the universal declaration of human rights, its practical fulfillment is not always ideal. In the digital era where information disclosure encourages diversity of expression, the fulfillment of the right to freedom of speech is often hampered by regulatory mechanisms made by the state. In four ASEAN countries (Cambodia, Myanmar, Thailand and Vietnam), as noted by Soombatpoonsiri and An Luong, for example, this right is restricted by the state’s politicization of “fake news”. Often without clear definition of what constitutes “fake news”, these countries make use of the allegation to silence the opposition and limit citizens’ digital activities considered detrimental to political stability.

The 9th Reading in Social Sciences (RISOS) raised the issue of repression in digital media in a discussion entitled “Represi Digital dengan Dalih Melawan Hoaks: Pengalaman Empat Negara ASEAN”. The forum which was held on September 30, 2022, discussed the article of Janjira Sombatpoonsiri and Dien Nguyen An Luong entitled “Justifying Digital Repression Via “Fighting Fake News”: A Study of Four Southeast Asian Autocracies”, by inviting three discussants including Diah Kusumaningrum—a lecturer at the Faculty of Social Sciences. and Political Science, UGM, Damar Juniarto—executive Director of SAFEnet (Southeast Asia Freedom of Expression Network), and Shita Laksmi—executive director of Tifa Foundation.

Digital Repression in Four ASEAN Countries 

Digital repression is a real challenge to democracy. In today’s digital era, when citizens should have free space to express their opinions, concerns over allegations of violating digital laws continue to haunt citizens who are critical of the government. Although regulation on the use of digital media by the government is permitted, even in some cases is necessary, such a regulation is widely used as a control/surveillance mechanism in the interests of the authorities. Even though Article 19 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights clearly guarantees that every citizen has an equal right to speech, which reads “everyone has the right to freedom of opinion and expression: this right includes freedom to hold opinions without interference and to seek, receive and impart information and ideas. through any media and regardless of frontiers”, digital repression is getting more rampant in use to silence opposition.

In their research of four ASEAN countries consisting of Cambodia, Myanmar, Thailand and Vietnam, Soombatpoonsiri and An Luong found several forms of digital repression used by the autocratic states. Through mechanisms of politicization and weaponization, the four countries made the agenda against “fake news” a strategy to delegitimize criticism and spread terror. The politicization of fake news is carried out by defining it as “false information” seasoned with the horror of the consequences but without an adequate explanation of what is considered true and false. The governments in these four countries use fake news as a weapon to tighten their position by 1) subjectively identifying information that is not in line with their agenda as untrue, and 2) criminalizing internet users accused of spreading fake news.

At the micro level, the politicization and weaponization of fake news manifests itself in four repressive mechanisms which include 1) legal persecution of users and platforms, 2) content restriction, 3) surveillance, and 4) internet shutdowns. In the first model, fake news are often used in trials to criminalize Internet users under the pretext of fake news. This trend was found in the four autocracies that target citizens, journalists, activists, and even politicians on charges of spreading misinformation because it contradicts the narrative of the government. This model of repression has increased in the era of the COVID-19 pandemic when criticisms of various government policies including the incompetence of handling COVID are considered hoaxes and/or fake news. The information conveyed by users is considered a danger to the public, providing legitimacy for the government to take legal action on allegations of disinformation.

Second, content blocks and takedowns apply in Cambodia, Thailand, and Vietnam. These models of persecutions are carried out by requesting content removal from ISPs or telecommunication companies and social media platforms. According to Soombatpoonsiri and An Luong, these strategies have long been toolkits for internet control by Southeast Asian autocracies, even though the pretext of tackling fake news is something new for intensifying content restriction.

Third, digital surveillance takes place in Thailand and Vietnam. Systematic surveillance of online activities is carried out to control internet mobilization, especially those promoted by targeted Internet users. Thailand and Vietnam, which are aggressively fighting fake news, are compiling a complete digital infrastructure with strict supervision of social networks and the collection of user data. They even force ISPs, platforms, and computer software providers to store it.

Fourth, internet shutdowns, either partially or completely, occurred in Myanmar. Shutdowns can occur in part through the slowdown of mobile service in some areas and/or in some hours, and restrictions on certain platforms. But it can also happen completely by shutting down nation-wide networks, such as during the Myanmar coup in 2021. The junta imposed the internet shutdown for 30 days with the rhetoric of curbing fake news. They also expanded a night internet blackout for almost 50 days, suspended wireless broadband service for 18 days and blocked access to mobile internet 98 times in areas where mass mobilization took place.

In these four countries, Soombatpoonsiri and An Luong concluded that digital repression is employed in different ways depending on the cyber infrastructure they have and the digital market they develop. Thailand and Vietnam, which are developing the digital economy, for example, choose to suppress tech companies to take down content, rather than the whole shutdown of the Internet, as was the case with Myanmar. Such a case also happened in Indonesia. Although not severe repression as demonstrated by Soombatpoonsiri and An Luong, Indonesia exhibits potential digital persecution in recent years.

Digital Repression in the Indonesian Context

Regarding the local context, Indonesia’s cyber management shows the potential risks of persecution. Damar Juniarto—the director of SAFEnet (Southeast Asia Freedom of Expression Network) asserted that a digital panopticon appeared to be instrumentalized by the Indonesian government through politicizing and weaponizing electronic law including those regarding fake news. The Indonesian government repeatedly used its authority to shut down various sites, platforms and social media accounts accused of spreading hoaxes and spreading disinformation. Under such pretext, the state feels justified to act based on the electronic information and transaction law. Persecution according to Juniarto expands to labelling dissenting opinions as fake, criminalizing criticism, cutting off Internet access, surveillance by the police, instilling false evidence through hacking, and pressuring platforms for account deletion. Like in the other ASEAN countries observed by Soombatpoonsiri and An Luong, these kinds of digital repression are targeting mostly activists, journalists, and politicians.

Shita Laksmi—the executive director of TIFA foundation— confirmed the role of politics in internet management. There are layers of taskforces which the government has recently begun to intervene especially in the domain of the electronic system operators. Juniarto affirmed by mentioning that during certain political periods, there was a form of internet slowdown both spatially and temporally to limit citizens’ digital activities. Although it did not expand to nationwide internet shutdown, the kind of instrumentalizing cyber system for state politics demonstrates a digital repression that citizens are not always aware of.

Though Juniarto did not deny the need to regulate internet use towards democratic cyber governance, he emphasized that freedom of speech is a part of human right guaranteed by the constitution. The National Commission for Human Rights even constituted an instrument to guarantee freedom of speech through Standard Norms and Regulations No. 5 concerning Human Rights to Freedom of Opinion and Expression. Therefore, to minimize the state’s political intervention in cyber systems, Juniarto proposed that digital management be administered by involving multiple stakeholders through co-regulation-based systems due to multiple layers of taskforces that cannot and should not be monopolized by the government.

Indeed, the research findings conducted by Soombatpoonsiri and An Luong are an alarming call to watch out for the danger of politicization and weaponization of cyber instruments by the ruling regime. Although Indonesia is not an autocratic country, the potential for digital repression intensifies, especially considering the tendency of the government to exploit the operation of electronic systems. Therefore, the pattern of cooperation with various parties needs to be enhanced to ensure the quality of transparent management and to fulfill citizens’ constitutional rights of data security. Along with that, Diah Kusumaningrum reminded participants of the need to advance the research conducted by Soombatpoonsiri and An Luong by looking at the development of digital life in terms of spatial and/or temporal variations, arguments for state capacity, orientation of contentiousness vs. horror of effect orientation, sanitizing dissent, and comparison of experiences from various countries. In doing so, the development and improvement of the digital world can be established from various aspects towards a democratic and inclusive cyber governance.

Recorded discussion here

Public Lecture, 7 November 2022

Wednesday Forum, 2 November 2022

Wednesday Forum, 26 October 2022

Wednesday Forum, 19 October 2022