Women's Majelis Taklim and gendered religious practice in Northern Ambon. more

Women’s majelis taklim and gendered religious practice in northern Ambon. Phillip Winn Abstract The recent phenomenal growth of majelis taklim groups in Indonesia has been linked to the ‘Islamic revival’, often conceived as involving innovative models of Muslim orthodoxy couched in scripturalist or theologico-legal terms. This paper asserts that women’s majelis taklim in Leihitu on the northern coastline of Ambon Island instead reaffirm longstanding forms of devotional performance among local Muslims by (re)presenting these as fully compatible with contemporary Muslim identity. While there is evidence to suggest majelis taklim are reshaping normative aspects of gendered religious practice in Leihitu, this process is as enmeshed in local understandings as it is influenced by new intersections of national religious and political discourse concerning Muslim women. Ultimately, the article argues for greater attention to the diverse terms in which global and national currents of Muslim religiosity are instantiated locally via closer consideration of the social and cultural settings in which shifts in religious practice, such as majelis taklim, occur. Introduction Majelis taklim are regular gatherings for religious learning and performance that have become widespread among Muslims in contemporary Indonesia, gaining prominence also in public discourse about national religiosity. The rapid increase of majelis taklim over the last decade, particularly among Muslim women, has been linked to the ‘Islamic revival’ in Indonesia – a global trend involving Muslim populations worldwide engaging more overtly with issues of religious identity and practice. In this context, the expression ‘revival’ rarely suggests the reinvigoration of longstanding practices, but typically denote the displacing of local traditions by more scripturalist or theologico-legal orientations, which in turn are often depicted as a universal or international expression of Islam. 1 A key assertion I wish to make here is that the recent spread of majelis taklim across a range of settings in Indonesia need not be linked to new concerns about universality or orthodoxy, but can act to reaffirm extant expressions of Muslim religiosity. In this sense the impact of the global Islamic revival in Indonesia should be understood in general terms as involving new public demonstrations of religious sensibility, rather than necessarily introducing innovative forms of religious practice. 2 Importantly, these newly visible sensibilities are not 1 homogenous and neither are the forms of ‘public’ they engage. Indeed, ideas of a newly Islamized ‘national public sphere’ (analogous to civil society) may be less relevant to contemporary acts of religious self-presentation than other forms of imagined publics (or counterpublics). 3 This article explores a case in point: women’s majelis taklim in the Leihitu area of Ambon Island in eastern Indonesia. 4 Their emergence in this locale is certainly linked to national visions of contemporary Muslim women. However, the core activity of majelis taklim in Leihitu involves a longstanding practice in that setting: reciting Arabic-language religious texts (both Qur’ānic and non-Qur’ānic) in order to gain religious merit, in particular a genre known as barzanji. I argue therefore that majelis taklim should be seen as vehicles for (re)presenting existing modes of devotional performance in Leihitu as entirely compatible with contemporary Muslim identity in Indonesia. In doing so, they also reaffirm the Islamic credentials of their communities. At the same time, the increased frequency of public and semi-public performances of devotional recitation by women involved in majelis taklim are subtly transforming locally gendered norms of religious practice rather than simply reproducing them. Majelis taklim in Indonesia It would be difficult to find clearer indication of a resurgent interest in religion among Indonesian Muslims than the contemporary proliferation of majelis taklim throughout the archipelago. The origin of this expression (also rendered as majelis ta’lim and majlis talim) remains obscure, as do its earliest contexts of use. 5 Most often majelis taklim are glossed as ‘Islamic study or reading groups’, but they are also referred to variously as religious learning forums, preaching gatherings, public meetings for Islamic and/or Qur’ānic studies, private gatherings for religious teaching, and as salon style religious discussion groups. 6 This range of interpretations illustrate the diverse activities taking place under the majelis taklim label which involve widely different scales and settings: from public lectures by popular preachers at major city mosques attended by thousands of people, to an intimate group of friends conversing together in a private dwelling. Majelis taklim gatherings occur in the meeting rooms 2 of office blocks, major shopping centers and hotels; Indonesian embassies across the globe routinely host majelis taklim attended by staff and local expatriates. If these gatherings might be described as having a set of core practices, these would involve prayer and the use of one or more Arabic-language religious texts. This does not necessarily mean that all or any of the participants are able to understand Arabic; texts may simply be recited, rather than translated or discussed. Certainly an educative dimension is often present; participants view majelis taklim as enhancing their proficiency in being a Muslim. This might involve gaining direct advice from a respected figure on living a more devout life, improving skills in religious practice, or enlarging one’s knowledge of theological interpretation. Forms of religious education for Muslims that take place outside formal institutions and make use of Arabic text are not new in Indonesia. Qur’ānic recitation classes for children are an especially widespread tradition, frequently occurring in the home of a neighbour who is not paid for the task. Generally this activity is known as pengajian (or pengajian Qur’ān), a label that may also be applied to forms of adult religious training. 7 And alongside the expansion of majelis taklim has been a recent growth also in majelis dhikr (or zikir), groups which specialize in the repetitive recitation of Arabic religious formulae. 8 Majelis taklim can be distinguished from both gatherings on two grounds. Firstly, the breadth of activities among individual majelis taklim groups appear much greater – from exegesis of religious materials and discussion of social issues to public education campaigns, welfare and charity efforts, exhibitions of Islamic fashion and even lotteries (arisan) aimed at providing each member in turn with a small amount of capital. Secondly, there is a widespread tendency for the label to be applied to groups of women. Indeed, majelis taklim have been referred to as ‘a religious meeting for women only’, as ‘pengajian for women’, and as ‘traditional Muslim women’s groups’. 9 This perspective of majelis taklim might be linked historically to informal learning sessions conducted by religious boarding schools (pesantren) in Java for small groups of girls in the period before female students were formally admitted to such schools. 10 Later in the 1920s the women’s associations of the national Muslim organisations Nahdlatul Ulama (NU) and Muhammadiyah began organizing informal 3 groups of adult women for religious instruction and as a vehicle of outreach and religious proselytizing (dakwah), addressing for example the conduct of prayer and techniques of ritual cleanliness. In NU circles in particular, the usual name for these gatherings was majlis ta’lim. Individual groups were often initiated and led by nyai, the wives of pesantren heads (kyai) and this is true of many women’s majelis taklim in Java today. 11 Activities of this sort also likely underpin past associations in Java between majelis taklim and the poor (as well as with pesantren). 12 But while the connection with women remains, present-day majelis taklim groups have shed any link to an impoverished, uneducated underclass. From the 1990s onwards, large gatherings of women’s majelis taklim groups became increasingly visible in the national media. The most well-known organization involved in such events is Badan Kontak Majlis Taklim or BKMT (Majlis Taklim Networking Organization), established in Jakarta in1981 by representatives from several hundred individual groups. This is a period also often regarded as marking the onset of the Islamic revival in Indonesia in its most popular form, linked to the rapid expansion of campus-based dakwah activity influenced by currents of reform in the Middle East. 13 BKMT embodied aspects of that trend. From its beginnings the organisation encouraged members of majelis taklim to engage in diverse arenas of social action in order to overtly express religious commitment. 14 As diverse forms of publicly expressed Muslim religiosity gained purchase on the popular imagination, participation in majelis taklim attracted considerable legitimacy as an appropriate contemporary route for religiously engaged Muslim women to contribute to national life. Majelis taklim were no longer tools for disseminating basic religious instruction among disadvantaged women but rather vehicles in which committed Muslim women could champion a contemporary national culture of renewed public religiosity. Members of majelis taklim were increasingly represented as exemplars of active, religiously aware Muslim women and the groups themselves as agents of national social and moral development. These ideas were regular themes across a series of large BKMT assemblies that took place at Jakarta’s main sports stadium during the 1990s. By 1998, immediately following the resignation of Suharto, the founding chair of BKMT Tuti Alawiyah was appointed State Minister of Female Empowerment in the Habibie 4 government. More recently Indonesian president Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono publicly praised the national role of majelis taklim at a Qur’ānic recitation festival attended by ambassadors from predominantly Muslim nations: I invite all Muslims to continuously improve the quality of their faith [iman]. Let us build a culture of reading, memorizing, studying, understanding and practicing the Qur’ān through creating majelis ta’lim in small prayer-houses and mosques [everywhere]. 15 The recent growth of majelis taklim in Indonesia has been extraordinary. At the twentieth anniversary celebration of the formation of BKMT in 2001, some 140,000 members of women’s majelis taklim gathered at Jakarta’s largest sports stadium. 16 By 2006, the Directorate of Islamic Education estimated that 153,357 majelis taklim existed throughout the country with a combined membership of nearly 10 million people. 17 In 2009, Tuti Alawiyah – still chair of BKMT – claimed 14 million women in affiliated majelis taklim groups across thirty-one provinces. At a BKMT New Year prayer event in 2010 at Jakarta’s national mosque (Masjid Istiqlal), the Minister of Religious Affairs within a newly installed cabinet chosen by the recently re-elected President Yudhoyono addressed a large audience drawn from 50,000 majelis taklim. As he stood at the main podium a giant banner immediately behind and above him overtly proclaimed the extensive horizons of BKMT: ‘Islam is the Solution for Advanced Civilization and Humanity’ (‘Islam Adalah Solusi Bagi Kemajuan Peradaban dan Kemanusiaan’). Majelis taklim now arguably constitute the ‘largest religious-based women’s groups in Indonesia’. 18 They have become an important expression of popular Muslim religiosity, a major vehicle for shaping religious knowledge and social values and for scholars, a key symbol of ‘new piety’ among contemporary Muslims in Indonesia linked to reflexive engagements with religious identity among the ‘new Muslim middle class’. 19 But while majelis taklim groups have burgeoned among the relatively affluent, they are certainly not restricted to this segment of the population as Marcoes observes: ‘they are just anywhere, they emerge spontaneously and are firmly rooted in society’. 20 A great range of individuals and organizations now make use of majelis taklim in Indonesia, whether in dakwah efforts aimed at reforming everyday religious practices, in outreach and recruitment of new members, or in pursuing goals of broader socio-political transformation. 21 At the same time, one unpublished study has 5 argued that majelis taklim usually remain closely tied to the religious orientations and social concerns of specific founders. 22 In order to understand the role of majelis taklim in shaping expressions of Muslim religiosity in Indonesia today, close attention needs to be paid to the social contexts in which majelis taklim are embedded and to the particular character of their activities. The remainder of this article prese nts such an analysis of majelis taklim on the north coast of Ambon Island in the eastern Indonesian province of Maluku. Majelis Taklim in Leihitu Ambon Island consists of a northern and southern peninsula (jazirah) linked at one end by a narrow isthmus. The larger, northern peninsula is widely referred to as Jazirah Leihitu; the smaller to the south simply as Leitimur. The population of Leitimur is ethnically diverse, with a substantial population of Christians; the city of Ambon – capital of Maluku province – is located here, as is the main port. By contrast, the population of Jazirah Leihitu is largely Muslim, on its northern coastline wholly so. 23 Settlements here have a lengthy association with Muslim trading networks in and beyond the archipelago which pre-date the arrival of Europeans by many centuries. By the fifteenth century the north coast had established itself as a regional hub with strong links to key centers of Muslim trading activity and religious learning in Java’s northern port-cities. 24 Just when indigenous Muslim communities first emerged here is unclear, but in all likelihood this locale was among the earliest in the region in which such a process occurred. The north coast of Jazirah Leihitu today is divided between eleven ‘traditional villages’ (negeri adat), a formal status assigned by regional government. 25 Together these comprise a single administrative sub-district (or kecamatan) also named Leihitu, consisting of some 9,000 households and 47,000 people. 26 The area is substantially rural, with extensive stands of tree-crops (notably cloves, nutmeg, and more recently cacao) as well as groves of sago trees and vegetable gardens. But Leihitu is also not remote; Ambon city is easily reached via abundant buses and micro-buses. Numerous government employees commute daily to Ambon from settlements in Leihitu, women carry local produce to urban markets at daybreak, and students at city-based universities and technical colleges also travel the route regularly. 6 The negeri of Leihitu are multifaceted social, cultural and administrative entities, incorporating what might be termed ‘core’ and ‘peripheral’ communities. The latter consist largely of in-migrants from outside the immediate region (mainly from southeast Sulawesi). This group represents a significant proportion of the total population of the region; their settlements dot the coastline between core communities. But my focus here is with the core communities, whose residents’ are predominantly Ambonese with descent links to local clans in each negeri (of which there are generally several). Traditions concerning these clans and the pre-colonial polities with which they are associated give shape to the territorial claims of presentday negeri and provide the source of ‘traditional’ status. Archaic settlements were originally located in adjacent mountain areas and it here that accounts suggest local people first began to embrace Muslim religious practices, erecting the first mosques at locations which remain revered and ritually significant. Across Leihitu majelis taklim are associated strongly, if not exclusively, with women. All such groups are said to have emerged relatively recently over the last several years. Individual majelis taklim tend to be connected with specific neighborhoods (kampung or kompleks) within negeri, frequently bearing its name and drawing largely on its residents; in this way some are also linked to local groupings of clans known as soa. 27 A precise count of majeklis taklim is difficult; not all are active and information about this status varies. The maximum number of majeklis taklim claimed by a core community in Leihitu was eight and the fewest three, so across the area it is possible that around sixty groups exist. According to informants, nearly all members of majelis taklim are married, with few very young women involved. My own direct observations were that members tend to be aged in their 30s to 50s. Given the demographic character of Leihitu negeri, a reasonable estimate then would suggest one in ten women aged above 30 years were likely to be involved in a majelis taklim group, and perhaps more. 28 The groups generally have around twenty members, including formal office-bearers: a chair, secretary and treasurer. However, these are relatively nominal positions and the groups are certainly not hierarchical. Majelis taklim in Leihitu consist of women who know each other well as neighbors and/or relatives. 7 On ordinary occasions majelis taklim groups generally meet at the home of a member. Gatherings are said to coincide with major periods free of household duties or outside work (as has been observed in Java). 29 For Leihitu women the main blocks of such time occur immediately after midday prayer (salat Duhur) and also after completion of the two evening prayers Maghrib and Isya (the first beginning around 6.30pm, the second an hour later). The latter is especially common timing for any protracted activity, such as when a speaker is invited to deliver an address (ceramah). At gatherings I observed in two neighboring negeri, women met in the front guest area of a house or its verandah, seated on mats on the floor, encircling narrow rectangular white cloths bearing plates of fruit and cake. Clothing was more formal than the everyday, of the sort linked in local terms with religious activity incorporating head-cloths in a variety of styles (none with face-coverings). Each individual placed a small amount of money on arrival in a receptacle (around two thousand rupiah). Half was to defray the costs of refreshments (if the host chose to retain it), with the remainder added to group funds for purchasing necessary items such as printed materials or musical instruments. The principal activity of majelis taklim in Leihitu combines the educative and performative: members learn together to pronounce and recite (but not translate) Qur’ānic and non-Qur’ānic Arabic-language religious texts. Recitation sessions are opened and closed by prayer. Animated conversations takes place among the women before and after recitation, but a general effort was made to avoid interruptions or distractions while the recitation was actually in progress; rowdy children were hushed. Informants suggest that the most regularly recited Qur’ānic text is Sūrat 36 Yā Sīn. 30 But the most common form of recitation involves non-Qur’ānic materials known as barzanji, a term which in its the broadest sense refers to a collection of several literary works concerning the life of the Prophet Muhammad. The barzanji texts used by majelis taklim in Leihitu are well-known among Muslims throughout the world because of their association with annual celebrations of the birth of the Prophet (in Indonesia known as Maulud, Arabic: mawlid). Barzanji texts have been described as essential to Muslim religious observance in the sense that they are regularly recited by Muslims throughout the world, fully or in part, on occasions not confined to the celebration of Maulud. Two of these texts are especially 8 prominent in Indonesia: Mawlid Sharaf al-Ānām (from an unknown author) and the Mawlid al-Barzanjī (written by the Medina scholar Ja’far al-Barzanjī). Both are contained in common commercially published collections of maulud texts often entitled Majmū'at al-mawālid wa-ad'iyah (‘Compilation of mawlids and prayers’) found in many different editions and formats across the archipelago. 31 But while their performance has wide acceptance in Indonesia, here as elsewhere there are a range of views concerning their theologico-legal status within Islam and the appropriateness of particular contexts and forms of performance. 32 There are also specific regional variants in the practice, notably the melodies used and the relative participation of men and women. One author suggests that the particular popularity of barzanji recitation is a distinctive feature of Muslim religiosity in eastern Indonesia. 33 However, ethnographic accounts of the practice in the region are rare. Recitation of barzanji by Muslims in Leihitu most often consists of the Mawlid al-Barzanjī; Sharaf al-Ānām is significantly longer and tends to be reserved for the annual all-night celebration of Maulud itself. In Leihitu these texts are referred to as ‘barzanji’ and ‘syarafal anam’ respectively. Across Leihitu barzanji forms an essential part of two key celebratory life-course events (in their most elaborated form): an infant’s first hair cutting and marriage. The former context seems relatively widespread, certainly in eastern Indonesia – I have myself observed recitations of this sort at several locations in Southeast Sulawesi and Maluku. The regular use of barzanji at weddings appears more unique. This takes place immediately before the groom publicly announces his agreement to the marriage covenant (akad nikah). Ideally, the performance is timed such that the groom and his accompanying party arrive just as the recitation reaches a passage that refers to Muhammad’s birth, a juncture at which the assembled participants stand. 34 The arriving group find their places and join in the final sections of the recitation. The akad nikah begins soon after. At both these events, those reciting barzanji are predominantly (or exclusively) men. However, there are numerous contexts where women also perform barzanji by themselves or alongside men. People in Leihitu sometimes arrange a barzanji recitation as fulfillment of a vow or intention (niat), for example linked to the successful outcome of some effort or enterprise. When the host of such an occasion is a woman, those reciting may be 9 mainly women. Another established practice involves reciting barzanji at the home of an individual engaged in the pilgrimage to Mecca. This occurs during each evening of their absence. When the pilgrim is a woman, once again those reciting may consist largely of women. In a contemporary sense, members of majelis taklim are prominent participants on both types of occasion. It is evident that barzanji in Leihitu is not linked specifically to women, as is sometimes the case elsewhere. Nevertheless, it is fair to suggest the practice is especially popular among women. 35 In part, according to informants, this is because barzanji is understood as not being subject to the religious prohibitions that prevent menstruating women from entering a mosque, engaging in daily prayers or reading/handling the Qur’ān. But additional gendered dimensions are also important. Men in Leihitu engage in a much larger range of public religious performances than do women, not only in the community mosque (e.g. at communal Friday prayers), and at wedding ceremonies or funerals, but notably also through all-male sessions of prayer and recitation known as tahlil. These occur frequently as an integral part of a wide variety of community, clan and family-linked activities. 36 And a feature of religious practice in the core communities of Leihitu is that women do not generally pray in the main negeri mosque, instead utilizing small purpose-built structures (musholla) located elsewhere. 37 On major religious festivals (such as Eid al Adha or Eid al Fitr) women gather at the main mosque alongside men, but do so in a separate area demarcated by a large white curtain at the rear. By contrast, community recitation of barzanji on the occasion of Maulud brings women and men together in a shared space within the main mosque. And while male figures lead this recitation, women play a very active part, particularly in collective responses. 38 Wives of pengajian teachers or women who teach pengajian themselves may well rise to their feet when others are sitting, urging those present – children and adults alike – to perform the collective responses with more gusto. In short, barzanji has had a long existence in Leihitu as providing a periodic opportunity for women to engage in public religious performance at the very center of their community. One elderly informant in negeri Kaitetu also recalled from his childhood that groups of women would gather annually at the beach to recite barzanji on the 20th day of the month of Safar – an occasion known as Mandi Safar (marked also by communal bathing in the ocean). 39 10 Barzanji has a long association then with both public and participatory expressions of Muslim religiosity by women in Leihitu. This continues in the activities of majelis taklim, where performing barzanji (‘baca barzanji’, literally ‘reading barzanji’) was described by informants as the most frequent activity. It involves reciting a series of Arabic passages of varying length, separated periodically by a number of collectively repeated phrases conveying praise, gratitude and respect to God and/or the Prophet. 40 Terms like reciting and reading actually fail to capture the energetic character of the performance, especially of the repeated phrases which are also referred to as ‘songs’ (lagu) and as zikir (Arabic: dhikr). 41 The zikir are sung to the accompaniment of rhythmic strikes on shallow tambourine-like goatskin drums (rabana) gripped firmly in one hand and struck with the other, using the heel of the palm. To be carried out well in local terms zikir in barzanji must be lively and enthusiastic (bersemangat) both in voice and in percussive accompaniment. The rabana are hit sharply and at times quite rapidly – the louder and more powerful the strikes the better. Well performed zikir are seen as invigorating, helping those who attend all-night Maulud festivities to maintain attention. This combination of liveliness and tunefulness make ‘lagu barzanji’ one of the most relished genres of religious performance in Leihitu, by adults and children alike. Any performance inevitably draws spectators, who quietly hum, nod or even softly sing along. While appearing relatively recently in Leihitu, informants often stated that majelis taklim groups are new in name only, since the practice of reciting barzanji has existed in negeri for generations, as has Qur’ānic reading, the other major activity the groups engage in. Apart from occasional recitations of Yā Sīn (Sūrat 36), during the fasting month of Ramadan majelis taklim regularly recite the entire Qur’ān – another longstanding devotional practice which occurs in private dwellings as well the origin houses of individual clans (rumah tua). Each evening a single chapter is recited so that by the end of Ramadan a ceremony can be held to mark its completion (khatam), adding to the more general celebration of Id al Fitri. Majelis taklim groups sometimes arrange this so that each evening’s reading occurs in a different member’s home in order that all participating households share the envisaged benefits (with the final evening’s khatam occurring in the community mosque). 11 Emergence of majelis taklim My informants in Leihitu negeri unanimously agree one does not need to be in a majelis taklim group to engage in barzanji or reciting the Qur’ān. Why then, did such groups emerge at all? People commonly provided three key rationale: (i) majelis taklim create additional occasions for religious recitation (which is a good thing in itself); (ii) groups attract funds from a range of sources; (iii) they involve occasions where ‘housewives’ (ibu rumah tangga) can enjoy activity outside their own homes. The first point reflects an established view that recitations of berzanji or the Qur’ān generate religious reward (pahala) or blessings (berkat) for participants, in this life and/or the afterlife. In the first instance this could include a range of material benefits e.g. avoiding ill health and ill will, attracting luck or generosity and assistance from others. Rewards in the afterlife are less explicit, but ultimately relate to making up for one’s sins (berdosa) and therefore facilitating entry to paradise (surga). The existence of majelis taklim groups mean that recitations occur more frequently than before and involve more shared participation, both of which are viewed as unequivocally positive. The more recitation the more pahala, and the more involved, the more the rewards are shared. The second rationale might seem to speak to material rather than religious concerns. But informants readily interpret funds, donations and gifts directed to majelis taklim as direct manifestations of pahala. These are received from a range of sources, including government, campaigning politicians and non-government organizations. Women’s majelis taklim throughout Indonesia now form a widely recognized point of contact for those with an interest in social programs in particular relating to gender. Majelis taklim are regarded, in the jargon of community development, as ‘local stakeholders’. Finally, as one informant noted in straightforward fashion, attending a majelis taklim gathering is ‘better than just sitting around the house’. As institutional recognition of the groups has expanded, so has occasional opportunities to participate in larger scale events in urban centers such as Ambon city or Masohi on Seram Island, the capital of the regency (kabupaten) of Central Maluku which takes in Ambon Island. These generally mark religious festivals and are organized and funded by government, political parties or community organizations. 12 Institutional interest in the presence of local majelis taklim also make them desirable to negeri administrations, which form the main conduit for receiving and distributing monies to local groups (e.g. funds for travel, purchasing texts or musical instruments, cloth for matching clothing, etc). No doubt this has assisted their growth, and there were examples of individual negeri administrators who actively encouraged majelis taklim to form via their wives or female relatives. Another less overtly acknowledged factor involves competition between negeri and between neighborhoods or soa within negeri. Access to a share of tangible benefits plays a part, but equally a common concern exists to maintain the standing of one’s immediate community in relation to others, especially neigbouring negeri. Explicit public claims to being ‘first’ or ‘oldest’ are avoided in Leihitu in light of the tension surrounding claims and counter-claims of precedence between negeri communities in a range of matters. But informants regularly expressed satisfaction at the number or quality of majelis taklim in their community, or commented that the women in their neighborhood had not been slow in becoming involved in the trend. The increasing visibility of majelis taklim via national media sources is clearly important here, as is their endorsement by government figures as a desirable feature of national culture, indeed, one that should be emulated. Some women recalled hearing about majelis taklim initially through social contacts, particularly family or friends in Ambon city. There were also a few examples of in-marrying women from urban centers such as Makassar (Sulawesi) who initiated local majelis taklim. But most informants credited television with their initial awareness of majelis taklim groups, citing especially the presence of majelis taklim members in the studio audiences of televised religious programs, readily identified by their matching religious clothing (busana Muslim) or ‘uniform’ (seragam). One television preacher especially popular among Leihitu women was Hj. Dedeh Rosyidah, co-host of a television talk-show called Mamah dan Aa' (screening on the Indosiar network). Known as ‘Mama Dedeh’, Hj. Rosyidah was widely admired for her unaffected and direct style of speaking. 42 On the program she responds to questions from telephone callers as well as from members of an audience consisting largely of women’s majelis taklim groups. As a questioner stands her group’s locale is identified in a screen caption. 13 The national prominence of women’s majelis taklim as a popular expression of public religiosity among Muslims in Indonesia has clearly played a key part in their emergence in Leihitu. All negeri strongly assert a deep-seated connection to Islam based on narratives of the local arrival of particular proselytizing figures in the remote past. Sites associated with these figures and their activities (known locally as keramat) as well as a range of religious heirlooms attest to this history. In creating local majelis taklim, Leihitu women are publicly reaffirming their communities’ Muslim identity in contemporary and national terms, to publics both real and imagined, inside and outside of their negeri. Religiosity, gender & modernity At a national level in Indonesia, majelis taklim groups are implicated in new intersections of religion and politics that situate women at the centre of narratives of morality and nation. 43 Parallels exist with accounts of an increase in ‘public participation and public piety’ among Muslim women elsewhere as a marked effect of the global Islamic revival. 44 Certainly there are prominent instances where Muslim women at a national level in Indonesia can find themselves cast as barometers of their society’s ‘civilizational status’, as described in other national contexts. 45 Is it possible to suggest then, that as a national phenomenon in Indonesia majelis taklim are implicated in disseminating new models of ‘ideal moral womanhood’, linked perhaps to novel frameworks of normative piety? In my view, generalizations of this kind are not tenable in Indonesia given the diverse range of activities occurring under the rubric of majelis taklim. Their impact on local understandings of religion and related expressions of gender will vary according to the form these groups or gatherings take, alongside the social and cultural contexts of the settings in which they occur. There are important differences for example in the character of majelis taklim in Leihitu and descriptions of women’s majelis taklim in Java (the focus of most descriptions to date). In the latter case, majelis taklim are frequently linked to a founding scholar-teacher referred to as an ustadz (male) or ustadzah (female). 46 In the latter case the wives of kyai are especially prominent, as they have been historically in women’s religious education in Java. And wider traditions surrounding pesantren almost certainly play a role in shaping the character of many Javanese majelis taklim. 14 Kyai in Java have long been influential figures, particularly in rural areas, whether as local guardians of religious orthodoxy and morality or in mediating between local populations and the outside world. 47 Similarly, Marcoes argues of Java that ‘the atmosphere of the majlis ta’lim and other pengajian tends to lend the religious teachers speaking there a certain charisma and authority’. 48 Over time particular ustadz/ah can build sizeable popular followings, attending a number of different majelis taklim every week. Some earn a comfortable living through the payments they receive at each session; ‘star’ ustadz/a in Jakarta may be wealthy. 49 Crucially, these figures inevitably shape the educative dimensions of the majelis taklim in which they are involved, for example in choosing texts for reading and in providing thematic interpretations and commentaries as foci for discussion. Under these circumstances majelis taklim members often become passive recipients for instruction rather than active discussants. Indeed, Muttaqin argues that shared loyalty to an ustadz/ah is a feature of majelis taklim in Java; this forms the key source of continuity among individual groups. 50 By contrast pesantren have been relatively unimportant in Maluku with very few existing even in major centers. Leihitu has just one, established as recently as 1987. 51Among the majelis taklim I observed, the closest position to that of a teacher or instructor was a member acknowledged by others as being skilled in reciting Arabic-language text. These women usually possessed some level of previous experience in recitation, perhaps as a former participant in school-based competitive Qur’ānic recital or in running a village pengajian Quran class for children. Such individuals tended to lead the prayers associated with opening and closing a gathering, but responsibility for assisting others in learning or improving recitation was shared by the women in the group. The main modes of instruction involved example and also gentle correction or prompting from group members. In Qur’ānic readings (such as Sura Ya Sin), groups often recite together as a whole. In barzanji, the individual passages (as against the lagu) are read by different members. In the groups I visited I watched as women followed each other’s recitations – fingers running along lines of Arabic script, mouths moving silently or softly enunciating words in conjunction with the person reading. If someone faltered over a difficult sentence or word, other women would quickly add their voice; mispronunciations were also immediately corrected. After the recitation, as refreshments were shared, women would discuss 15 their efforts with some animation, expressing frustration or satisfaction and drawing comments and advice from others. Importantly, none of the Arabic passages involved in recitation (Qur’ānic or nonQur’ānic) were translated. Neither did I encounter any use of exegetical texts among majelis taklim. There were no references among my informants to such texts, or to commentary or interpretation concerning the religious significance of the passages recited. According to informants majelis taklim are concerned wholly with recitation, a situation confirmed by my own observations and consistent with longstanding conventions of village-based religious learning in the region (such as pengajian Qur’ān). Understanding the literal meaning of religious texts is generally not seen as necessary. Indeed, mosque officials in Leihitu negeri, as in most Maluku locales, are unlikely themselves to be able to translate Arabic (though the meaning of a range of terms, along with the gist of certain phrases and even entire passages may be understood). 52 While almost everyone in Leihitu attends pengajian as children, this early training in recitation is usually lost by adulthood. While married men develop a working memory of Arabic passages in common use through regular participation in tahlil, there are few opportunities for women to gain similar skills. Majelis taklim in Leihitu essentially have the character of self-education groups enhancing women’s involvement, practice and confidence in Arabic recitation. One significant consequence of the lack of a founding ustadz/ah figure, or even a formal instructor, is a general absence of authoritative theological discourse. Far from being dominated by the perspectives of a founder or instructor, majelis taklim in this locale have an egalitarian, participatory character. They represent an opportunity for local women to (re)acquaint themselves with Arabic recitation via the assistance of other women: their friends, neighbours and relatives. By contrast Gade’s depiction of Sulawesi women involved in practicing Qur’ānic recitation gives considerable emphasis to idealized expressions of religious piety linked to training in conventions of stylistic orthopraxy. This resonates with broader research concerning the involvement of Muslim women in religious revival movements in Indonesia and elsewhere (notably Mahmood in Egypt). 53 These accounts address contexts where women’s religious learning is mediated by 16 instructors (often holding institutional qualifications) who invoke strongly normative frameworks in relation to affective experience. Theological constructions of emotional responses such as ‘fear’ or ‘awe’ appear prominent. By contrast, among the members of majelis taklim with whom I spoke in Leihitu there was no explicit discourse concerning proper expressions of pious sentiment. The feeling most readily and frequently referred to by these women in respect of their involvement in majelis taklim involved pleasure, both in newfound or growing competence in reciting Arabic text and in the company of other women. Indeed, the social element of majelis taklim forms a critical aspect of their ongoing appeal. In discussing majelis taklim in Java Marcoes refers to the ‘value of simple amusement’ in meeting with other women in majelis taklim in order to exchange news and views, while Abaza muses that the gatherings may well be ‘a pleasant way of spending time’. 54 My informants highlighted both aspects – sociality and skills – as key sources of positive feeling in belonging to a majelis taklim. Several women expressed some surprise that reciting Arabic text was not as difficult as they had imagined, declaring that they now take as much pleasure in the barzanji passages as they once did in the zikir, at times even competing with other women for the longest and most complex pieces. A very common practice in barzanji is for each of the individual passages to be recited by whichever person first begins to do so. However, in one of the groups I observed these passages were instead allocated in order of seating. I was told that as women’s confidence and skills increased in the group, two or more women would simultaneously begin to recite the longer passages, with each reluctant to give way. The system of reading by seating was started to distribute the most desirable long sections more equitably, and avoid struggles of this sort. One woman in this majelis taklim admitted with some amusement that she surreptitiously counts heads on her arrival at a gathering in order to choose the place where a longer passage is more likely to fall. She was certain others did the same, noting the widespread looks of dismay whenever a late arrival threatened to upset everyone’s seating strategies. While members of majelis taklim were certainly concerned with fluent recitation, this was linked to the potential of their devotional practice to generate religious merit (pahala) through pleasing God, rather than with enacting 17 conventionalized ideals of piety (whether new or old) or demonstrating a commitment to religious observance. The fundamental religious obligations for Muslims frequently cited in Leihitu included refraining from eating pork (as well as dog); undergoing circumcision; joining the annual fast (at least initially); paying annual zakat; undertaking the pilgrimage to Mecca (haji), wealth permitting; and performing the five daily prayers (salat/sholat). 55 Of these elements, the key practice understood locally as demonstrating an intent to become a ‘better’ Muslim involved more strictly observing daily prayers. Nonetheless, many informants – including active participants in majelis taklim – admitted that they either rarely performed these prayers, or did so irregularly. It was commonly expected those who had completed the pilgrimage should make a special effort in performing salat, and that the elderly generally also do so. 56 But for everyone else, engaging in regular daily salat was considered a challenge due largely to the demands of everyday domestic responsibilities. At one majelis taklim gathering I attended an invited ustadz was also present to deliver a religious address (ceramah). 57 He quickly honed in on this very issue, noting that people had a great deal of energy for barzanji, he gently chided his audience for the common lack of comparable enthusiasm in performing daily prayer, despite its relative brevity. Indeed, while describing barzanji as entirely laudable, he emphasized salat as the key to religious life and also drew attention to what he described as the secret of all powerful religious figures in the Islamic world: waking at night to perform ‘sholat malam’ as a supplementary prayer to the obligatory five. 58 Informants generally agreed that it would be better as Muslims to more regularly observe daily prayers, and none claimed that recitation could replace or substitute this obligation. However, there were suggestions that as a source of pahala recitation of the Qur’ān or barzanji might be expected to balance shortcomings in other areas of religious observance. Local iterations Majelis taklim could be seen as a key vehicle for Indonesian Muslim women – nationally and locally – to navigate what Göle has referred to as the ‘constant oscillation between affirmation of authenticity and globalization of modernity’ involving a ‘creative tension between the affirmation of specificity and [of] general principles’. 59 Majelis taklim elsewhere have been represented as empowering women 18 through knowledge of a range of social issues and as boosting women’s participation in public arenas. 60 But ustadz/ah or other figures of religious authority may also utilize majeklis taklim groups to disseminate religiously conservative views of women’s family responsibilities and duties to their husband. 61 I would suggest that even in the absence of conservative ustadz/ah in Leihitu, majelis taklim have not substantially transformed the shape of women’s lives in these terms. Ambonese Muslim women are generally not highly constrained by private/public spatial dichotomies. 62 In addition to often helping generate income, Leihitu women are core participants in the collective efforts surrounding a range of religious ceremonies and life-passage events linked to family, clan or community, and these may well involve travelling across a variety of locations in Leihitu, in Ambon Island and to other regions. A more reasonable suggestion is that majelis taklim increase opportunities for Leihitu women to participate in a public sphere less directly related to obligations of family, though in a form consistent with an existing community imaginary of gendered devotional practice. The women are, after all, honing skills in reciting barzanji rather than learning to perform tahlil. In this sense, new contexts of public performance linked to majelis taklim might be described as enlarging an existing, locally gendered Islamic public sphere in Leihitu – increasing rather than radically reshaping women’s mobility and visibility. But more importantly, public performances by Leihitu majelis taklim (re)enact key local elements of Muslim religiosity as participants in a national Muslim public imaginary. 63 It is in this sense that majelis taklim offer access to new national symbolic terms of religiosity while resisting the rupture with tradition numerous researchers have associated with emerging forms of ‘pious subjectivity’ throughout the region. 64 The groups effectively dissolve any tensions between specific authenticity and universal modernity. In their own accounts, gathering to recite barzanji in particular is a practice Leihitu women have been involved with over generations, one they associate firmly with the Muslim world as a whole despite regional variations in use (which may be more or less acknowledged). This practice is now occurring under a new contemporary label. The existence of majelis taklim in Leihitu publicly attests to the Islamic credentials of the women involved and the 19 communities to which they belong, a symbolic benefit that reinforces broader regard and support for the groups. At the same time as providing a new context for reiterating a normatively gendered form of religious practice, there is evidence majelis taklim in Leihitu may also be subtly transforming the existing character of those norms. 65 Increased public performance of venerated Arabic texts has led to opportunities for individual women to access a less public and highly valued form of religious knowledge: Arabic prayer formulae possessing hidden esoteric power. Carefully guarded, sometimes within single family lineages, these written formulae tend to be held by elderly men and are notoriously difficult to obtain. Examples may sometimes be shared with individuals seeking assistance or relatives as a bequest, and commonly take the form of sunat and wirid – respectively, non-obligatory and supererogatory prayers. The first is generally used between standard daily salat; the second consists of passages or phrases that may be appended to daily prayers, often involving a specific number of repetitions (hence some wirid are also referred to as zikir). Both draw on a range of material, including sections of the Qur’ān and hadith as well as salawat, and are regarded as possessing mystical potency. The benefits they confer may be understood in fairly general terms (e.g. protection, good fortune, attracting positive regard), or linked to quite specific outcomes such as healthy eyesight for one year, generating the equivalent pahala of twelve years of regular daily prayers, or even preventing one’s death from illness. In recent years a greater amount of such material has circulated in Leihitu (and Maluku generally) as a result of technological changes such as photocopying, computer printing and mobile phones. Much of the more recent material appears in transliterated phonetic form. This makes it easier to use but also undermines its perceived potency. More valued examples remain those that are difficult to obtain, inevitably in Arabic script alone; in the past relatively few could read them, mostly elderly men. Several women in majelis taklim informed me that they make use of the more widely circulating material as a way of testing their skills and to seek associated benefits. Some of this is shared within individual majelis taklim, and likely also beyond. One woman described assisting her husband during a serious illness by utilizing material of this sort which she had obtained through her majelis taklim. Such private demonstrations of skill in Arabic recitation combine with more public 20 practices to strengthen local respect for the knowledge (ilmu) one may develop as a result of participating in majelis taklim. 66 As a result, some Leihitu women find themselves increasingly regarded as bearers of valued religious knowledge – a role that in the past was difficult for women to attain, associated more with spirit possession rather than efforts in religious learning. A different informant confided that she had been recently approached by a close male relative for assistance in learning to recite hand-written Arabic prayer-formulae found in an exercise-book belonging to his great-grandfather, inherited from his recently deceased father. Perhaps unsurprisingly, I discovered newly formed men’s majelis taklim in two different Leihitu negeri. The men involved openly cited the example of women’s groups and acknowledging that men’s skill in reciting Arabic was in danger of falling behind. I attended the first baca barzanji gathering of one of these groups, which consisted of seventeen men, including some relatively senior figures in their community. Two had completed the Mecca pilgrimage. It was apparent that despite their regular participation in tahlil most men present were unable to read written passages with any fluency. The elderly retired primary school principal who initiated the group alongside a local pengajian teacher were forced to read several passages each in order to complete the recitation, despite urging others to do so. Efforts by other participants were frequently faltering and uncertain, while more than a few avoided reciting altogether, though all joined in the familiar zikir. It remains to be seen whether men’s majelis taklim in Leihitu will become as numerous, or as widely accepted, as the established women’s groups. People recognize not all men are necessarily skilled at reciting Arabic text. Nevertheless, the general prominence of men on public religious occasions makes it more discomfiting for individuals to openly reveal a personal lack of ability. And other expectations shaped by gender may well play a role. One evening in Leihitu I sat in the street making conversation with several neighbours (men and women) as a newly formed men’s majelis taklim began a barzanji recital at a house nearby. Once again, several locally influential figures were participating, including the village head and his secretary. At the sound of a particularly animated zikir sequence we all fell silent to listen, and I commented on its engaging sound. One of those present, a man in his thirties, quickly agreed but commented: ‘yes it’s certainly nice to listen to. But those 21 men are the leaders (pemimpin) of this community; maybe it’s better for them to be thinking of ways to improve people’s lives rather than reciting barzanji’. Conclusion I have argued here that the general impact of the Islamic revival in Indonesia is best understood in terms of widespread (re)engagements with religious identity in relation to diverse Muslim publics. That women on the northern coastline of Jazirah Leihitu on Ambon Island have come together to form majelis taklim can be linked in the first instance to the greater prominence of public religious sensibilities in contemporary Indonesia, disseminated in part through national media. But majelis taklim in Leihitu also highlight the ways in which global and national currents are always instantiated locally and thereby generate varied responses. I suggest that such gatherings in Leihitu do not necessarily reflect an amplified concern with religious obligations or normative piety. The conduct of women’s majelis taklim in this locale draw on existing notions of efficacy in devotional practice rather than innovative ideals of Islamic orthodoxy (particularly those couched in universal scriptural and/or theologico-legal terms). Linking recitation of Arabic-language religious texts to religious merit (pahala) is a longstanding expression of Muslim religiosity in Leihitu. While in general terms the activities of women’s majelis taklim groups reflect locally gendered norms of religious practice in Leihitu, the process of reiterating these norms has involved subtle shifts in established expectations concerning women’s religious knowledge. But these remain as enmeshed with local contexts as they are influenced by new intersections of national religious and political discourse concerning Muslim women. A general definition of majelis taklim may well be required as a starting point for analysis of the phenomenon in Indonesia; I would suggest the following: majelis taklim involve regular gatherings of adult Muslims outside formal educational contexts with the aim of enhancing religious proficiency. But the nature of the practices engaged in, and their implications for personal and collective expressions of religious identity require careful exploration in terms of the specific forms of learning and performance that occur. These will inevitably vary with social and cultural contexts, as will their relation to locally longstanding expressions of religiosity, particularly in the absence of charismatic founder-teachers. 22 References Abaza, Mona (2004) Markets of faith: Jakartan da’wa and Islamic gentrification. Archipel 67: 173-202. Arnez, Monika (2010) Empowering women through Islam: fatayat NU between tradition and change. 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(2000) Snapshots of Islamic Modernities Daedalus, 129 (1): 91-117. Hasan, Noorhaidi (2009) The making of public Islam: piety, agency, and commodification on the landscape of the Indonesian public sphere. Contemporary Islam 3: 229-250. 23 Hefner, Robert W. (2009) ‘Islamic schools, social movements and democracy in Indonesia’. In R. Hefner (ed) Making modern Muslims: the politics of Islamic education in Southeast Asia, Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, pp.55-105 Hertanto, Luhur (2007) ‘SBY: Hidupkan Majelis Ta'lim,’ detikNews, June 22, http://us.detiknews.com/index.php/detik.read/tahun/2007/bulan/06/tgl/22/time/ 114333/idnews/796629/idkanal/10, site accessed 8 April 2010. The Jakarta Post (2001) ‘Enthusiastic mothers gather at stadium for prayers’, July 10, http://www.thejakartapost.com/news/2001/07/10/enthusiastic-mothers-gatherstadium-prayers.html, site accessed: 7 February 2010. 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Women and mediation in Indonesia. Leiden: KITLV Press, pp.203-228. (2002) ‘Muslim female preacher and feminist movement’. In A. Samiuddin and R. Khanam (eds) Muslim feminism and feminist movement (South-East Asia). Delhi: Global Vision Publishing, pp.253-290. Millie, Julian (2008) ‘ “Spiritual meal” or ongoing project? The dilemma of dakwah oratory’. In G. Fealy & S. White (eds) Expressing Islam. Religious life and politics in Indonesia. Singapore: Institute of Southeast Asian Studies, pp.8094. Munir, Lily Zakiyah (2003) ‘The Koran's spirit of gender equality’ http://www.qantara.de/webcom/show_article.php/_c-307/_nr-19/i.html 24 Muttaqin, Farid (n.d.) Progressive Muslim feminists in Indonesia from pioneering to the next agendas. MA thesis 2008, Centre for International Studies Ohio University. Renaldo, Rachel (2008) ‘Muslim women, middle class habitus, and modernity in Indonesia’ Contemporary Islam 2:23–39 Setyawati, Lugina (2008) ‘Adat, Islam and womanhood in the reconstruction of Riau Malay identity’. In S. Blackburn, B. J. Smith and S. Syamsityatun (eds) Indonesian Islam in a new era. How women negotiate their Muslim identities. Clayton: Monash University Press, pp.69-96. Simpson, Edward (2010) ‘The changing perspectives of three Muslim men on the question of saint worship over a 10-year period in Gujarat, Western India’ Modern Asian Studies vol.42, no.2/3:377-403. Slamat-Velsink, Ina (1996) ‘Traditional Leadership in Rural Java’. In Leadership on Java: gentle hints, authoritarian rule H. Antlöv & S. Cederroth (eds) Surrey: Curzon Press, pp. 33-56. Soares, Benjamin & Osella, Filippo (2009) Islam, politics, anthropology Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute (N.S.): S1-S23. Srimulyani, Eka (2007) Muslim Women and Education in Indonesia: The pondok pesantren experience Asia Pacific Journal of Education 27 (1): 85-99). Turmudi, Endang (2006) Struggling for the Umma: changing leadership roles of kiai in Jombang, East Java. Canberra: ANU E Press. Turner, Bryan (2008) Introduction: the price of piety Contemporary Islam 2:1-6. Warner, Michael (2002) ‘Publics and counterpublics,’ in Public Culture 14 (1):49-90. van Wichelen, Sonja (2007) ‘Reconstructing “Muslimness”: new bodies in urban Insonesia’. In C. Aitchison, P. Hopkins, M. Kwan Geographies of Muslim identities: diaspora, gender and belonging Hampshire: Ashgate, pp 93-108. Zamhari, Arif (2010) Rituals of Islamic Spirituality. A Study of Majlis Dhikr Groups in East Java, Canberra: ANU E-Press,. 1 Benjamin Soares & Filippo Osella, ‘Islam, politics, anthropology,’ in Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute, N.S. (2009):S1-S23, p. S13 Saba Mahmood, Politics of Piety: the Islamic Revival and the Feminist Subject, Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2005, p.3. 2 cf Nilüfer Göle, ‘Islam in public: new visibilities and new imaginaries,’ in Public Culture vol.14, no.1, (2002):173-90; Michael Warner, ‘Publics and counterpublics,’ in Public Culture vol.14, no. 1, (2002):49-90. 3 25 4 I draw here on ethnographic investigation of Muslim religiosity in the Leihitu locale over a three month period in 2009. A key focus involved activities surrounding the major religious festival of Eid al-Adha; an interest in majelis taklim emerged as research progressed. The phrase combines two Arabic terms: majlis + ta‘lim, literally ‘a council or assembly’ + ‘education or learning’, but the phrase is not in common use in Arabic-speaking countries. One plausible suggestion is that it has its source in the multilingual roots of Betawi Malay in Jakarta (Lies M. Marcoes, ‘Muslim female preacher and feminist movement,’ in Muslim feminism and feminist movement (South-East Asia), eds. Abida Samiuddin and Rashida Khanam, Delhi: Global Vision Publishing, 2002, pp.253-290, p.262). Mona Abaza, ‘Markets of faith: Jakartan da’wa and Islamic gentrification,’ in Archipel no. 67 (2004):173-202, pp.174-7; 188-9, describes a regular majelis taklim in Jakarta that emerged at the end of the nineteenth century (led by the prominent Hadrahmi figure Habib ‘Ali al-Habsyi Abaza) and notes the historical overlap between Betawi and Hadrahmi Arab populations. This particular majelis taklim, based at the Kwitang Mosque, involves large numbers of both men and women, seated in separate areas. See for e.g. Pieternella van Doorn-Harder, Women shaping Islam. Reading the Qur'an in Indonesia, Urbana & Chicago, University of Illinois Press, 2006, p.242; Julian Millie, ‘ “Spiritual meal” or ongoing project? The dilemma of dakwah oratory,’ in Expressing Islam. Religious life and politics in Indonesia, eds. Greg Fealy & Sally White, Singapore: Institute of Southeast Asian Studies, 2008, pp.80-94, p.80; Sonja van Wichelen, ‘Reconstructing “Muslimness”: new bodies in urban Indonesia,’ in Geographies of Muslim identities: diaspora, gender and belonging, eds. Cara Aitchison, Peter Hopkins, Mwi-Po Kwan, Aldershot Hampshire: Ashgate, 2007, pp 93-108, p.93; Farid Muttaqin, ‘Progressive Muslim feminists in Indonesia from pioneering to the next agendas.’ MA thesis, Centre for International Studies, Ohio University, n.d., p.97, URL: http://etd.ohiolink.edu/sendpdf.cgi/Muttaqin%20Farid.pdf?ohiou1213212021, site accessed 16 April 2010. 7 6 5 Robert W. Hefner, ‘Islamic schools, social movements and democracy in Indonesia,’ in Making modern Muslims: the politics of Islamic education in Southeast Asia, ed. Robert Hefner Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 2009, pp.55-105, p.59. These may or may not be linked to training in a specific tarekat (or Sufi) tradition; see Arif Zamhari, Rituals of Islamic Spirituality. A Study of Majlis Dhikr Groups in East Java, Canberra: ANU E-Press, 2010. 9 8 Marcoes, ‘Muslim female preacher,’ p.65; ‘The female preacher as a mediator in religion. A case study in Jakarta and West Java,’ in Women and mediation in Indonesia, eds. Sita van Bemmelen, Madelon Djajadiningrat-Nieuwenhuis, Elspeth Locher-Scholten & Elly Touwen-Bouwsma, Leiden: KITLV Press, 1992 pp.203-228, p.209. Eka Srimulyani, ‘Muslim Women and Education in Indonesia: The pondok pesantren experience,’ in Asia Pacific Journal of Education vol. 27, no. 1 (2007): 85-99, p.86; Hefner, ‘Islamic schools,’ p.62. 10 Srimulyani suggests sessions of this sort led to the founding of the first pesantren for female students (in the 1930s). Similar public sessions of religious instruction continue to be offered by many pesantren on a regular basis as a service to their surrounding community, and these are sometimes referred to as majelis taklim (as well as pengajian). 11 Van Doorn-Harder, Women Shaping Islam, p.215; Marcoes, ‘The female preacher,’ pp.209-210. Abaza, ‘Markets of faith,’ p.183. 12 James, J. Fox, ‘Currents in Contemporary Islam in Indonesia’. Paper presented at Harvard Asia Vision 21 Cambridge, Mass., (2004), pp.7-10, URL: http://www.bgu.edu/SiteMedia/_courses/reading/Art1-Currents%20in%20Contemporary.pdf, accessed 22 March 2009; Martin van Bruinessen, Genealogies of Islamic Radicalism in post-Suharto Indonesia. South East Asia Research vol. 10, no. 2, (2002):117-154, p.132-4. 13 26 Lugina Setyawati, ‘Adat, Islam and womanhood in the reconstruction of Riau Malay identity,’ in Indonesian Islam in a new era. How women negotiate their Muslim identities, eds. Susan Blackburn, Bianca Smith and Siti Syamsiyatun, Clayton: Monash University Press, 2008, pp.69-96, p.91. 15 14 Luhur Hertanto, ‘SBY: Hidupkan Majelis Ta'lim,’ detikNews, June 2007, URL: http://us.detiknews.com/index.php/detik.read/tahun/2007/bulan/06/tgl/22/time/114333/idnews/796629/i dkanal/10, site accessed 8 April 2010. The relevant extract of Yudhoyono’s speech reads: ‘Saya ajak segenap kaum muslim senantiasa meningkatkan kualitas keimanan. Mari kita budayakan kembali membaca, menghafal, mengkaji, memahami dan mengamalkan Al Qur’an dengan menghidupkan kembali majelis ta’lim di surau-surau dan masjid’. This news report has been widely reproduced across the websites and blogs of majelis taklim groups. 16 ‘Enthusiastic mothers gather at stadium for prayers,’ The Jakarta Post, July 2001, URL: http://www.thejakartapost.com/news/2001/07/10/enthusiastic-mothers-gather-stadium-prayers.html, site accessed: 7 February 2010. Ginda, ‘Karakteristik Majelis Taklim Al-Muhajirin sebagai institusi pendidikan Islam non formal di Manado Sulawesi Utara’ Fakultas Dakwah dan Ilmu Komunikasi, Universitas Islam Negeri Sultan Syarif Kasim, Riau (n.d.), p.2, URL: http://www.uinsuska.info/dakwah/attachments/093_03kareakteristikmajelistaklim.pdf, site accessed March 7, 2010. 18 17 Muttaqin, ‘Progressive Muslim feminists,’ p.65,124. Abaza, ‘Markets of faith,’ pp.182-3; Noorhaidi Hasan, ‘The making of public Islam: piety, agency, and commodification on the landscape of the Indonesian public sphere’ in Contemporary Islam, vol 1, no.3, (2009): 229-250, p.237. 20 19 Marcoes, ‘Muslim female preacher,’ pp.260-1. As just one example, the Prosperous Justice Party (Partai Keadilan Sejahtera) – Indonesia’s most electorally successful Islam-themed political party – actively organizes majelis taklim. According to Hasan (‘The making of public Islam,’ p.14) this is in order to ‘target household women, professionals and a broader audience as part of a long-term vision of Islamizing the Indonesian social sphere’. The observation doubtless applies to many of the reform-minded religious organizations that also utilize majelis taklim, some of which engage in trenchant criticism of existing political arrangements in Indonesia. 22 21 Ginda, ‘Karakteristik majelis taklim,’ p.2 Until the Moluccan conflict of 1999-2003, a small community of Christians known as Dusun Hila Kristen existed at the border of negeri Hila and negeri Kaitetu. Its population (some 550 people) fled the area after attacks occurring shortly after the outbreak of the first riots in the city of Ambon. They currently reside in Laha, at the southern side of Jazirah Leihitu. 24 23 see GWJ Drewes, ‘New light on the coming of Islam to Indonesia?’ in The Propagation of Islam in the Indonesian-Malay Archipelago, ed. Alijah Gordon, Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia: Malaysian Sociological Research Institute, 2001, pp. 125-155. This forms part of a process of province-wide administrative reform in response to broader national regional autonomy legislation, aimed at reshaping institutions of village governance through incorporating specific elements deemed to be part of the traditions of local communities. The District (Kabupaten) of Central Maluku (Maluku Tengah) is one of the first regions within Maluku province in which such changes are being implemented. 25 27 26 Note there are fewer than 9,000 houses; multiple household homes is a feature of Ambonese social life. Hereafter, Leihitu refers to the coastal sub-district, and Leihitu to the peninsula as a whole. Soa is a term with a complex history in the Maluku region. Generally, it is less a typological category than a term that encapsulates a range of linked socio-political ideas (see Chr. van Fraassen, Ternate, de Molukken en de Indonesische Archpel. Van Soa-organisatie en Vierdeling: Een Studie van Traditionele Samenleving en Cultuur in Indonesi, Leiden: Proefschrift Rijksuniversiteit). In Leihitu (as in many other locations) soa may signify territorial or politico-administrative units as well as descentbased groups. In an everyday sense this is reflected in the use of soa names for neighborhoods within a negeri. This may or may not be understood locally as reflecting historical patterns of clan residence. 28 27 According to data held by the Kecamatan office, approximately 7,500 women in the core communities of Leihitu are aged between 22-59 years of age, while 1,260 are 60 years or older. Using the middle figure both from the estimated number of majelis taklim across these communities and for the usual number of members in each group, total membership would comprise some 8% of women in these two age divisions. Given that women under 30 are included in the initial division, the proportion of adult married women who have participated in majelis taklim would likely be higher than this. Marcoes, ‘The female preacher,’ p.210 29 30 That is, in the sense of a passage specifically chosen for recital. The first Sūrat of the Qur’ān, Al Fatehah, featured in the brief prayer that bracketed the session. 31 The most widespread version I came across in Leihitu was printed and published by the company Kharisma Abadi in Surabaya (with no date of publication); see also Nico Kaptein, ‘The berdiri mawlid issue among Indonesian Muslims in the period circa 1875 to 1930,’ in Bijdragen tot de Taal-, Land- en Volkenkunde, vol.149, no.1, (1993):124-153, p.126. Kaptein, ‘The berdiri mawlid,’ p.126 32 Anna M. Gade, Perfection Makes Practice. Learning, Emotion and the Recited Qur’ān in Indonesia, Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 2004, p.11. 33 34 see Kaptein, ‘The berdiri mawlid’. 35 e.g. compare Marion Holmes Katz, ‘Women’s Mawlid performances in Sanaa and the construction of “popular Islam”,’ in International Journal of Middle Eastern Studies, vol. 40 (2008):467-484. 36 ‘Tahlil’ is a multivalent, generic expression in Indonesia usually referring to a series of recited phrases, many of which are drawn from the Qur’ān, in addition to lengthy forms of zikir which include, but are not limited to, the phrase: ‘La ilaaha illallah’ (‘there is no god but Allah’). Numerous printed publications provide standardized forms of tahlil. Nevertheless, the specific content and/or sequence of recitations vary considerably across Indonesian locales, as do contexts of use. Several specific forms of tahlil exist among Leihitu negeri, some of which are associated with specific clans and/or soa. There are exceptions. Negeri Kaitetu has two mosques, one of which is well-known as the oldest extant mosque in Ambon, if not Maluku. Both these mosques have dedicated prayer-leaders (imam). On normal occasions women use this mosque for individually performing salat outside the home; on Fridays men rotate communal salat between the two mosques; women attend whichever is not in use by the men. At negeri Asilulu a new community mosque is being constructed with two floors, the highest of which is to be reserved for women’s use. 37 38 Gade (Perfection Makes Practice, p.12) cites an unsourced report that in Ambon, ‘persons of both genders’ are able to recite barzanji together, and notes: ‘elsewhere in Indonesia this has not been the case’. In my own experience this practice certainly extends also to the nearby Banda Islands, and hence perhaps to central Maluku – or even Maluku – as a whole. 28 39 Mandi Safar once occurred widely on the north coast of Leihitu (as it did in Java, the Malay Peninsula and Singapore), linked to the well-being of the community and the individuals involved. In most negeri it no longer occurs, though a version is said to persist in Hitu Lama and Hitu Messen. 40 The order and number of these longer passages vary, according to the decision of those present – somewhere between eight and fifteen are commonly used. It should be noted that while collections of Mawlid texts themselves are somewhat standardized in content across Indonesia, the common forms of sequencing this content in any given locality varies, so that a good deal of page-turning, both forwards and back again, is usually involved. Some of the phrases take the form of salutations addressed to the Prophet, and can also be referred to as salawat. In addition to her television broadcasts, Hj. Rosyidah regularly provides religious lectures (ceramah) to majelis taklim groups. 41 42 Monika Arnez, ‘Empowering women through Islam: fatayat NU between tradition and change,’ in Journal of Islamic Studies, vol. 21, no. 1, (2009):59-88, p.24; Rachel Renaldo, ‘Muslim women, middle class habitus, and modernity in Indonesia,’ in Contemporary Islam, 2 (2008):23–39, p.3. Lara Deeb, ‘Piety politics and the role of a transnational feminist analysis,’ in Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute, vol. 15, no. s1., (2009):s112 - s126, p.s116; Mahmood, Politics of Piety; Nasir, Kamaludeen Mohamed; Pereira, Alexius & Turner, Bryan Muslims in Singapore: piety, politics and policies, New York: Routledge, 2010. 45 44 43 Deeb, ‘Piety politics,’ pp.s114-115. The term muballigh (preacher) is also common, see Marcoes, ‘Muslim female preacher’. 46 Ina Slamat-Velsink, ‘Traditional Leadership in Rural Java,’ in Leadership on Java: gentle hints, authoritarian rule, eds. Hans Antlöv & Sven Cederroth, Surry: Curzon Press, 1996, pp. 33-56, p.40; see also Endang Turmudi Struggling for the Umma: changing leadership roles of kiai in Jombang, East Java, Canberra: ANU E Press, 2006. 48 47 Marcoes, ‘Muslim female preacher,’ p.256. Abaza, ‘Markets of faith,’ p.183. Muttaqin, ‘Progressive Muslim feminists,’ p.124. 49 50 51 Named Nurul Tsaqalain (‘light of the two treasures’, i.e. the Qur’ān and hadith), this school is located in negeri Hila and was originally established as a branch of Yayasan Pesantren Islam (YAPI) in Bangil, east Java, founded by the eminent Indonesian-Arab figure Husein bin Abu Bakar Al Habsyi. Several years ago declining student numbers saw it seek and receive state recognition as a madrasah, allowing its students to participate in national examinations. It now conforms broadly to the curriculum of other madrasah in Indonesia (private and public); nonetheless, it is still widely referred to as ‘the Hila pesantren’. In 2009, student enrolments consisted of 163 SD (primary) level students and 116 SMP (middle school) level students, with plans to expand in 2010-11 to include SMR (senior secondary) students. This is largely as a result of affordable, mass-produced pamphlet-books featuring Indonesian language translations alongside commonly utilized Arabic texts (in both Arabic and transliterated Latin scripts). However, similar translations and transliterations were not present in the books I saw being utilized by majelis taklim in Leihitu. It was suggested to me that these are in fact rare in compilations of mawlid texts. 53 52 Gade, Perfection Makes Practice, pp.167; 214-5; Saba Mahmood, ‘Feminist theory, embodiment, and the docile agent: some reflections on the Egyptian Islamic revival,’ in Cultural Anthropology vol.16, no.2, (2001):202-236, p.203; Politics of Piety, p.123. 29 ‘Muslim female preacher,’ p.264; ‘Markets of faith,’ p.182. In Leihitu, unlike Jakarta, this cannot be linked to the presence of a charismatic (male) ustadz. Abaza refers to ‘the power of seduction’ as an important factor in the ability of ustadz in Jakarta to draw ‘crowds of women who are the most susceptible, basically middle-aged women facing marital crisis’ (p.183). 55 54 Amongst Leihitu negeri, the term zakat usually refers to zakat fitrah – an obligatory payment made by Muslims at the end of Ramadan, to be directed towards particular categories of people. In local terms, orphans, widows and newly converted Muslims are among the most readily cited categories of recipient, and payment is made in the form of specific quantities of rice. Much of this is deposited at the negeri mosque for later distribution, though some individuals direct their zakat individually (often to family members who fit a specific category, e.g. a widowed mother or aunt). See also Franz von Benda-Beckmann & Keebet von Benda-Beckmann, Social Security Between Past and Future, Berlin: Lit verlag Dr W. Hopf, 2007, pp.159-183. It seems to me that this issue of shifting emphases in religious practice over the lifetime of individual Muslims is as generally under-studied as the effects of personal vicissitudes (for example, see Simpson, Edward, ‘The changing perspectives of three Muslim men on the question of saint worship over a 10year period in Gujarat, Western India,’ in Modern Asian Studies vol.42, no.2/3 [2008]:377-403). In Ambon, the honorific ‘ustadz’ usually denotes an individual with experience of advanced religious studies – particularly at a State Islamic Studies Institute (Sekolah Tinggi Agama Islam Negeri, STAIN) or Islamic University (Universitas Islam Negeri, UIN) – and especially those who are involved in disseminating religious education in some form. This particular individual was the head of the former pesantren Nurul Tsaqalain in negeri Hila (see note 50 above), and occasionally attends majelis taklim in the area of this school as a guest speaker. He is not paid for doing so. As a child he attended after-school religious instruction at Nurul Tsaqalain, later studying at YAPI in east Java, before undertaking studies at a STAIN in Ambon. In 2009 he was pursuing a Masters degree at UIN Alauddin in Makassar. As the only widely acknowledged ustadz in the Leihitu area he regularly travels between local mosques during Ramadan as part of a team providing religious lectures (known as a ‘safari ceramah’). The ustadz’ manner of preaching is admired locally: unaffected and using numerous practical references to everyday life. Arabic quotes concerning hadith or matters of fiqh (Islamic jurisprudence) are far less prominent in his addresses than a folksy mix of Ambonese Malay combined wijh terms drawn from local Leihitu languages. He is also notably pluralistic in outlook, referring to all four established Sunni schools of Islamic law in addition to Shia traditions, and endorsing many local customs (adat) as containing positive religious value. ‘Tidak ada satu tokoh dunia dari dunia Islampun yang dia bisa hebat tanpa melakukan satu rahasia kekuatan, ya itu: sholat malam’ 59 58 57 56 Nilüfer Göle, ‘Snapshots of Islamic Modernities,’ in Daedalus, vol.129, no.1, (2000):91-117, p.92. Van Doorn-Harder, Women Shaping Islam, pp. 215-6. 60 Marcoes ‘Muslim female preacher,’ p.280-3; Muttaqin, ‘Progressive Muslim feminists,’pp.64-5. see also Lily Zakiyah Munir, ‘The Koran's spirit of gender equality,’ Qantara.de, Bundeszentrale für politische Bildung, Deutsche Welle, the Goethe Institut and the Institut für Auslandsbeziehungen, http://www.qantara.de/webcom/show_article.php/_c-307/_nr-19/i.html, site accessed 5 March 2010. 62 61 cf Srimulyani, ‘Muslim Women and Education’, p.120 63 Nilüfer Göle, ‘Islam in public: new visibilities and new imaginaries,’ in Public Culture, vol.14, no.1, (2002):173-190, pp.176-7. 64 See for example Rachel Rinaldo, ‘Muslim women, middle class habitus, and modernity in Indonesia,’ in Contemporary Islam, no.2, (2008):23-39; also Bryan Turner, ‘Introduction: the price of piety,’ in Contemporary Islam no.2, (2008):1-6. 30 A process somewhat consistent with Judith Butler’s take on ‘performativity’, ‘iterability’ and ‘subjectivation’, see The Psychic Life of Power: Theories in Subjection, Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1997, p.99. Marcoes ‘Muslim female preacher,’ p.264, describes women in the Bogor-Sukabumi region of West Java referring to attendance at majelis taklim as ‘seeking knowledge’, in the sense of ‘supernatural solutions to pressing problems facing them’. A common practice involved carrying small containers of water to gatherings in the expectation that the water would gain special beneficial properties as a result of being present. 66 65 31