When He Was on the Peak...

WHEN HE WAS ON THE PEAK:
Habibie’s Attempts to Build a “Refined” Islamic Image
in the State Bureaucracy*)

By Fauzan Saleh

Bacharuddin Jusuf Habibie (b. 1936) could prove to be the most important figure among Buginese people in the country, at least in the last two decades of the twentieth century. As many other people from this ethnic group, Habibie had joined the diaspora, away from his homeland for many years. He eventually returned and settled in Jakarta where he pursued a political and bureaucratic careers, and eventually became president of the state. Habibie was born in Pare-Pare, South Sulawesi. Though some might perceive him as a “genuine” Buginese, he was reared in the Bugis tradition and, like his family, he speaks Buginese fluently. Habibie also received a religious education. By 13 years of age, he read the Qur’an fluently and had memorized passages for his daily prayers. His father was also a pious Muslim, and was reported to have died while praying.
Habibie was sent to study abroad at an early age. He started university in Bandung, West Java, but was offered the chance to move to Germany before completing a degree. He eventually graduated in aviation engineering, in Germany, then worked for the well-known aviation firm Messeschmitt Bolkow-Blohm (MBB). In 1970, Habibie met Suharto, and, although Habibie felt ready to return to Indonesia, Suharto asked him to gain further experience and skills in order to be ready contribute to Indonesia’s future. In 1974, Suharto finally invited him back to Indonesia to help undertake the country’s development programs. In 1978, Habibie was appointed State Minister of Research and Technology and to manage other state owned hi-tech enterprises, including the National Center for Research, Science and Technology, the Agency for the Assessment and Application of Technology, the Shipyard, the Weapon Industry, the Batam Industrial Development Authority.
On the political scene, and in view of the approaching general meeting of the People’s Consultative Assembly and the 1993 National Conference of GOLKAR, Habibie was entrusted to be the Coordinator of the Advisory Council of GOLKAR, an important post in the country’s political affairs, responsible directly to the President. This appointment might be seen as a “training” period for Habibie to enhance his ability to manage state affairs. It also reflects the close proximity of Habibie and Suharto, a fact which aroused jealousy among ministers. Indeed, Habibie could spend hours alone with Suharto, a unique position for Habibie. Moreover, Habibie had a direct access to Suharto, whom he could visit whenever he wished.
Habibie’s performance in the state bureaucracy was not only important for the political affairs but, as a brilliant engineer and scholar, Habibie was very much admired by young people, especially among students. Smart, energetic and honest, Habibie was idealized as the future national leader. In this context, students of Brawijaya University, Malang, East Java, invited Habibie as keynote speaker at the National Symposium of Muslim Intellectuals, to be held at the university’s students’ center. The goal of this small symposium on the golden age of Islam and its brilliant intellectuals, including al-Kindi, al-Farabi, Ibn Sina, Ibn Rushd, was to formulate an effective strategy to make Indonesia a home for the progress of Islamic thought in the current era. They wished for Indonesian Muslim intellectuals to generate their own discourse on Islam, thus reducing their dependency on the Middle East in this regard.
Senior instructors of the organizing students recommended however to broaden this symposium by inviting leading scholars, including Prof. B.J. Habibie and Dr. Imaduddin Abdurrahim. Thus encouraged, students renamed the symposium “The Contribution of Muslim Intellectuals to Enhancing the National Development of Indonesia,” and met Imaduddin. Enthusiastic, he improved upon their proposal and together their brought that proposal to Habibie. To their delight, Habibie accepted the invitation, provided other intellectuals joined him. Certain that the president would open the event, over 300 scholars and bureaucrats accepted to attend this. symposium.
More than a mere academic gathering, this seminar turned out to be a great momentum of the Indonesian Muslim intellectuals’ awakening at the end of the twentieth century, with the founding of the Association of All-Indonesian Muslim Intellectuals (Ikatan Cendekiawan Muslim se-Indonesia, ICMI). Habibie was chosen as its first chairman based on his credibility as a scientist, his commitment to Islam, and his leading position as a technocrat at the national level. Participants were also impressed with his sincerity and honesty. Overall, he was the most likely candidate at the time. To those who somewhat doubted his commitment to Islam, Habibie proved his case. Yet, still more importantly, Habibie was the only scholar perceived to be capable of integrating all elements of Indonesian Muslim intellectuals so that they might be more beneficial for furthering the nation’s progress. When Muslim leaders approved to work for ICMI under the leadership of Habibie, it was genuinely a matter of their consideration that Habibie was believed to have been free from any constrain relating to the problem of sectarianism that had bothered almost every single figure of Muslim leaders. Moreover, Habibie was also free from any historical burden concerning the internal conflicts among Muslims. So far, Habibie had no affiliation with any of Muslim groupings in Indonesia, and thus he could maintain his impartiality. After all, Habibie got ample of supports from Muslims. His presence was felt as very beneficial for the survival of their political share in the future.
But what made Habibie ready to accept this position, which was really beyond his academic background and experience? He had devoted almost all of his life to developing hi-tech enterprises. On the other hand, Habibie was known as a nationalist by nature. He held such a worldview in the sense that he could not think about something particular for the interests of a certain group only. In other words, though being a Muslim himself, he would not work for the sake of Islam in particular. He perceived himself as belonging to the whole nation. One of his main ideals was how to develop the Indonesian nation in general so that they might be able to achieve the position equal to that of the advanced nations of the world. He was very much obsessed to actualizing the objective of making Indonesian people more intelligent, mastering hi-tech, and growing more independent. It is understandable, therefore, why at first Habibie was reported to have been reluctant to accept the people’s request to be the chairman of ICMI.
As a minister responsible to the President, basically Habibie could not undertake any job beyond his determined authority. Therefore, he had to consult Suharto before he approved the request to chair the ICMI. On the other hand, it was very common that every member of the Cabinet ministers should obtain an approval from Suharto (well-known as mohon petunjuk dari Bapak Presiden) before he or she managed to make a crucial decision. The President’s approval was the very key to make an agenda meaningful and successful. Upon Habibie’s consultation, Suharto was reported to have suggested him: “Whether or not you’ll accept that appointment, the majority of the Indonesian citizens are Muslims.” Habibie could not take such a consideration without Suharto’s approval, even if it dealt with his own religious commitment. The problem could be because the decision was more political than merely a religious commitment. Nevertheless, with such a token from Suharto, Habibie was acquiescent to manage this newly established association of Indonesian Muslim intellectuals.
For Indonesian Muslims, the formation of ICMI was very meaningful. This was the first time that Indonesian Muslims witnessed the fact that at the end, the state bureaucracy was open to accommodate Muslims’ interests in a broader sense. At least, people would say that both sides could come together for cooperation with less suspicion. The president’s approval of the establishment of ICMI might be seen as, in political terms, a token of the end of tension between the state and its Muslim subjects. On the other hand, ICMI members were agreed to realize that the state bureaucracy was a part of the integral Islamic community at large, and thus it would be meaningless to exaggerate the dichotomy between the rulers and the ruled. They also realized that without the support of the state bureaucracy it would be too difficult for Muslim intellectuals to take some strategic steps towards improving their own performance. Accordingly, Muslims should not maintain their confrontational stance against the state bureaucracy. In general, ICMI was the only chance for Muslims that might not be offered twice, or they would miss it all together. It was the first time in twenty-seven years, according to Dr. Imaduddin, that Muslims were brought into the political life of the country, and thus they should take advantage of it. Though it might not fulfil everybody’s hope, the event was a real opportunity.
First of all, the effort to unite Muslim intellectuals under a single, all embracing organization was a very hard task to be accomplished. Actually, in the mid 1960s Muslim scholars had tried to establish an association called PERSAMI (Persatuan Sarjana Muslim Indonesia, Union of Indonesian Muslim Scholars), which appeared to be an effective organ to combat the intellectual influence of the Communist Party. This union also played an important role in supporting Suharto’s ascendancy to the state leadership. Nevertheless, the union soon declined, due to the leadership disputes and government disinterest in its survival. After all, their attempt only came to an end with failure. Yet, it was not the only attempt to be made. Prior to 1990, other attempts to establish such associations were also made, but all appeared to be unsuccessful. On the other hand, ICMI, with its inclusive character, replicated a pattern of cooperative inclusion and control between the state and Muslim intellectuals. But if bureaucratic control was made too strict, its imposition would inevitably create unintended effects. For instance, many Muslim activists who were previously regarded as enemies of the state and thus subject to political control were suddenly set free to have access to movements again, as well as to the press. In the months following the first ICMI congress, the media gave wider coverage to Islamic discussions on politics and development, an opportunity that would not be allowed a few years earlier.
An illustration to this change can be referred to Dr. Imaduddin Abdurrahim, one of the important figures in preparing the formation of ICMI. Prior to the establishment of ICMI, it was very difficult for him to give public speeches, even if in the university campuses. Wherever he went, his sponsors were required to obtain permits from the police department, and these were frequently denied. Since the establishment of ICMI, however, all of this changed fundamentally. He was allowed to travel freely around the country, from Aceh to Java, and no more had he to secure police permits. For him, that was the proof that whatever Suharto’s motives to support ICMI, an important change had taken place since then. But what actually had changed between 1988 and late 1990, so that the government, and the president in particular, felt comfortable in supporting this intellectual association? It was surprising enough that both the supporters of ICMI and its critics shared similar opinions regarding this matter. They both acknowledged that the president’s rivalry with certain segments of the military forces intensified in 1989 and 1990, in anticipation of the 1992 general election. What happened at the time could be a reflection of a similar thing that took place in the early 1960s, that is the conflict between President Sukarno and the military, to find a breach of similar proportions between the government and the military.
It was quite well known that some high-ranking military officers advised the government to dismiss the proposal of the formation of ICMI. However, as it became clear that Suharto was in support of ICMI, the military eventually stopped its public criticism, and the Armed Forces Commander, General Try Sutrisno, came to join the inaugural meeting of ICMI at Malang. Yet, several high-level ICMI officials commented that many officers in the military forces continued to view ICMI as only an “emotional and primordial” organization. Moreover, military leaders in several provinces had unsuccessfully tried to block the formation of regional branches of the organization. Consequently, as a token of loyalty to the state policy, whenever ICMI planned to establish a new branch office in a particular province, the governor would first release a statement the he was in support of this organization.
It has been noted previously that Habibie got ample of supports from Muslims to chair ICMI. Habibie’s presence in this newly established Muslim organization was meant to fulfil the need of unifying all Muslims’ potency in the country, so that they could play a particular role in enhancing the state agenda of development. So far, Muslims felt to be left behind by the state holder for their suspicions that Muslims only aspired to establish an Islamic state in Indonesia. Accordingly, Muslims were always put in a peripheral position. People, especially among the military forces, tended to undermine their plausibility as a group capable of plying a significant role for the betterment of the whole nation. Thus, it was frequently heard that some military officers suspected their own colleagues who became closer to certain Muslim figures or appeared to be more devoted Muslims. When the latter held the top rank commandos, people questioned them as to which direction the military forces and the country would be led.
Unfortunately, such suspicions, in the form of criticism, did not only come from those who were skeptical to Muslims’ potentiality. Some critical, or more appropriately cynical stances, were even made by some Muslim scholars as well. Of course, it did not necessarily arise from their lack of commitment to Islam, but, most probably, from their indifferent perspective. Dr. Deliar Noer, for instance, one of the most respected Muslim scholars in the country, was reported to have said that the founding of ICMI was no more than a political vehicle for Suharto’s re-election in the 1993 presidency. Other critics said that Habibie used ICMI for his political ends, including what some people regarded as his effort to win election to the vice-presidency in March 1993. Yet, Habibie denied that he was ever seriously interested in taking this position, since it would have required him to renounce his skilful talent in directing various hi-tech programs. Still another critic said that prior to his appointment to be the chairman of ICMI, Habibie had enjoyed the confidence of Suharto, but lacked ties to a national organization that could provide him with a mass base. ICMI, it was said, provided just that demand. However, be as it may, in general, ICMI, according to its critics, would be effective for Muslims only for a short term, and not for the long run.
The above discussion tells us how serious the problems that Habibie had to face along with his position, first as Suharto’s special Minister for Research and Technology, and the second as the most awaited figure to be the leader of the Indonesian Muslims. It is understandable that with those very important positions at Habibie’s hand, people would be easily provoked to do all means in order to dismiss him, with hatred and jealousy. Habibie, together with Suharto, frequently became a target of condemnation by those who disliked them, usually by manipulating social unrest as a means to achieve their ends. Their condemnation got an availing fuel as they read Schwarz’s Nation in Waiting, which was very critical to Suharto’s alleged abuse of power for his family’s business. The severe criticisms toward Suharto inevitably caused particular effects to Habibie’s position. But, for some Muslim leaders, the issues could be perceived as a manifestation of the so-called Islamo-phobia. They did not want that Muslims would have a chance to engage in determining positions, either in military, political or economic enterprises. As has been noted above, when they realized that there were a number of high-ranking military officers showed their proximity to Muslim leaders or appeared to be true Muslims, their colleagues soon reprimanded them as supporting the awakening of what they called as neo-Masyumi.
Islamo-phobia is a tendency upheld by people or group of people that perceived Islam as a real threat. This tendency might come up any time those people or groups felt threatened by the Muslim dynamism in the country, especially relating to the alleged demand of establishing an Islamic state. They perceived Muslims as having no sincere spirit of nationalism; or that Islam, by nature, is against nationalism. This Islamo-phobia, therefore, also came up immediately when Muslims were “euphoric” about the Suharto’s opening to Islam. Soon after the inauguration of ICMI formation in December 1990, another group of prominent figures and scholars founded a rival association, called “Forum Demokrasi.” The goal of the Forum was, among other things, to work against the tendency of sectarianism, convictions held by a group accused of being exclusively concerned only with their own interests and of belittling those of the nation in a whole. The active participation of Abdurrahman Wahid, who was the chairman of NU, in this group, strengthened the reputation of the anti-Habibie party. Wahid’s involvement gave an impression as if he represented other Muslims who objected the appearance of Habibie in the national political scene. At least Wahid’s presence was itself a justification for a certain group to consider that in reality Muslims were not unanimous in supporting ICMI, or that there were still many people in Indonesia who did not like Habibie and the state’s manifest accommodation of the interests of Muslims.
It is noteworthy that the Islamo-phobia reappeared when General Hartono was appointed to be the commander of the Armed Forces, replacing General Wismoyo Arismunandar. Hartono, together with General Faisal Tandjung as the commander of the National Military Forces, were known as duet jenderal santri, or the two devout Muslim generals. They both held a close relationship with Muslim leaders. Harold Crouch, an Australian observer deeply concerned with the Indonesian political affairs, maintained that the appearance of these two jenderal santri could be seen as a clear indication of the reemergence of the so-called neo-Masyumi. Masyumi was a strong Islamic party in 1950s whose reemergence was always awaited by devout Muslims, but adamantly rejected by others. On the other hand, the appointment of these two generals must have had a particular direction for Suharto, who managed to attract more sympathy of Muslim groups for his own interests. In this respect, according to Crouch, Habibie’s position should be put into consideration. Some observers supposed that indeed Suharto intended to nominate Habibie to be his successor as the president of the state. However, for those who were not sure that Suharto would quit his presidency, they suggested that Habibie would be the vice-president, following the 1997 general election.
Although Habibie was personally very popular, especially among Muslims, there were some groups which strongly opposed his nomination as the would-be president or vice-president. Unintentionally, Habibie was very close to the above mentioned duet jenderal santri. At least these two generals were willing to work in alliance with Habibie. With the replacement of the top military officers by Suharto as such, now it was clear that Suharto considered Muslims, who were very much cheered with the formation of ICMI, to be his new important ally. However, there were some speculations concerning why Suharto moved closer to Muslims. Schwarz, in his above-cited work, states that “one of these is Suharto’s need to respond to what he perceives to be declining support for him within the armed forces.” In other words, because Suharto felt that he was not fully supported by the military forces as strongly as before, it was logical that he turned to Muslims as his new partner. Suharto admitted that relying on Muslims for his political support was not wrong, since they represented almost 90 per cent of the Indonesian population. Therefore, Suharto’s support to the foundation of ICMI was frequently seen as equal to what had happened to Sukarno, about three decades earlier. When the army did not fully support him any more, according to Schwarz, Sukarno turned to the Communist Party. Schwarz analysis was based on his interview with Abdurrahman Wahid, July 1992. ICMI, in Wahid’s point of view, should not be seen from its religious dimension only, but also from its political stance. Nevertheless, the above allegation was denied by other scholars. Dr. Salim Said, for instance, a well-known military observer in Indonesia, indicates that Suharto’s approval to the emergence of ICMI was not because he realized that his military ally was not in support of him. Said suggests that it was because Suharto had secured the support of the military forces that he could maintain his intimate relationship with Muslim groups.
Indeed, it was quite difficult for the ICMI top officials to avoid criticisms against the growing tendencies of rapproachment between the bureaucracy and Islam. In an interview with Robert Hefner, a leading Indonesianist from Boston University, Haidar Bagir, who was the operations director of the Republika daily, explained that even if the organization was meant to rally support for the president, its establishment still provided Muslims with an historic opportunity. Moreover, as Imaduddin suggested, the change of attitude showed by the bureaucrats toward Islam allowed previously marginalized Muslim intellectuals to exhibit their ideas in public settings. It also provided Muslims with resources and political freedom to undertake initiatives that were formerly unthinkable, including the establishment of an Islamic Bank, the Bank Mu’amalat, and of a national newspaper, Republika. Hefner further suggests that whatever ICMI’s long-term fate, these initiatives have provided additional momentum for the institutional consolidation of the new Muslim middle class.
It is also noteworthy to reconsider that during the last two decades there has been an active process of Islamization of growing segments of the middle class and bureaucracy. Accordingly, it is understandable that the president would make significant concessions to Muslims. There has been a basic change in Indonesian social class, in the sense that large numbers of better-educated Muslims moved into the upper echelons of business and bureaucracy. The new generation of Muslim leaders, rising from impressive number of Muslim scholars with PhDs and other degrees of higher education, has emerged. Reconsidering all of these facts, the president realized that if there was a large group constantly opposing him, that was not good for the nation, as well as for his own interests. Therefore this tendency should not be perceived as a momentary tactic on the president’s part, because he was concerned not just with the elections but with a process of Islamization that will have a longer influence in the future of Indonesian society. It was also reported that Suharto had taken note of developments in Algeria and Lebanon, and was determined that in Indonesia an increasingly powerful Islam should not be pushed into opposition. It was in this crucial moment that ICMI could play its pragmatic role as a means to “break down the wall between Muslims and the government.” When in the early phases of the New Order era Islam was almost totally neglected, due to miscalculation of the bureaucracy that religion should not be taken into consideration in development programs, now the president himself decided to replace his policy of “benign neglect” with “support and protection” of the Muslim community. In line with that idea, when in the past Indonesian Muslims were frequently regarded as a “majority with a minority mentality,” now they began to think and act as true majority, since the chance allowed them to.
No less important was the fact that whatever the role played by elite rivalries in the establishment of ICMI, the organization had a visible influence on the devotional piety of growing segments of the middle class. ICMI could have made bureaucrats who were previously afraid to perform the Friday prayers proud to do so. Indeed it was in this respect that we might perceive Habibie as a Muslim figure arising from the “secularized environment.” He made himself a good example of this new trend among the elite and bureaucrats, representing those who were newly aroused their religious consciousness. Many of the secularized intelligentsia turned to be aware of their religion, and thus they became more devout and godly. This was a valuable achievement in itself.
All of these achievements, however, did not come up into the scene directly or complimentarily. There had been a long and exhausting process underlying these achievements. But the most instrumental thing that supports this process was how each party, Muslims and the bureaucrats, came to mutual understanding and cooperation. To understand this matter clearly, one should reconsider lot of aspects, beginning from the time when Muslims agreed to accept Pancasila as the only basis for their socio-political and religious mass-organizations. With the acceptance of Pancasila as the common platform for the whole nation, it was said, Muslims were no longer suspected of a demand to establish an Islamic state in Indonesia. Munawir Sjadzali, formerly the Minister of Religious Affairs, was cited as stating that the struggle of Islam and the general interests of Muslims would bear real fruit only if it was carried out within a constitutional manner, and was in accordance with the national objectives. These considerations further signified that Muslims’ principal aspirations were fulfilled even at a time when there was no longer an Islamic party. Since the last two decades of the twentieth century, many of Muslims’ needs dealing with the means of their ritual necessities and their demand for a more Islamic atmosphere in daily life were apparently met. Thanks to this new political atmosphere, in which there was no longer traumatic threat of an Islamic state, the bureaucrats became aware that Muslims were really the majority in this country, not only in a numerical sense but also in their technical significance. Consequently, in accordance with the principles of democracy, Muslims deserve more consideration from the state, as long as it did not harm the rights of other believers.
It must be further noted that in fact, the agreement of Muslims to accept Pancasila as the common platform has benefited Muslims more significantly, as to a certain degree it helped to develop their internal social cohesiveness. There was no more an Islamic party which could claim that its ideology was the only legitimate representative of the true Islam, a claim which once aroused a lot of conflicts among Muslims themselves and caused more fragmentation of Islamic political power. Those who used to besmirch the ritual practices of other groups, due to their different political affiliations, were then came to the same mosques, schools, or other Islamic institutions. More notably, there was almost no political threat to identify oneself as a true Muslim, either in the lower rank or at the elite level of the social life. The use of jilbab, or the headscarf of Muslim women, was since then a common visible manifestation of their sincere Islamic commitment, either in schools, universities, offices or even in common places.
Another important achievement that benefited Muslims was the enhancement of national education. Public education was made accessible to almost the whole nation, and thus it opened the way to the development of a new group of Muslim intellectuals. Education created a new middle class of pious and devout Muslims, but one which was more adaptive to modern ideas and to middle class cultural life. This signifies the emergence of the so-called “intellectual boom” of devout Muslims who had achieved erudition and high technical skills. More significantly, a lot of these new devout Muslims were absorbed in bureaucratic positions and state-owned corporations, which also indicates the vertical and horizontal mobilizations of the devout Muslims. Still more remarkably, the national education also served as a melting agent for the alleged dichotomy of santri-abangan groups of Indonesian Muslims. This is because the national education facilitated by the state also helped to spread Islam more extensively, which, in turn, increased the people’s understanding of true Islamic doctrine. Since then, the division of santri-abangan became blurred, as Schwarz once stated, because of a revival of Islamic consciousness in the past two decades.
The intellectual boom experienced by Indonesian Muslims also enriched the repertory of Islamic thought in this country. Pioneered by a number of young ardent Muslim intellectuals who strove to escape cultural stagnation and political alienation, devout Muslims were driven to reformulate their ideological position as a creative effort to respond the fundamental problems encountered by the Indonesian community in general. This resulted in several currents of thought representing different types of modern intellectual progress in Indonesia, including inclusive theology, transformative theology, the social dimension of the tauhid, or tauhid sosial, cultural Islamization, etc. In general, these ideas were meant to advance a friendlier and more peaceful brand of Islam. The “inclusive theology” of Nurcholish Madjid, for instance, strongly influenced both the state and the Muslim community alike. It provided a rational elaboration of theology to the effect that Islam and Pancasila were intrinsically compatible, and advanced the idea that Islam is a religion containing values which support the national development programs as well as motivating community participation. Although this “inclusive theology” did not escape all criticism, it was regarded as an exceptional contribution to the change of the bureaucrats’ attitude toward Islam. At least it offered a peaceful Islam and brought conviction that the religion was needed to support modern life and to prevent alienation in the process of modernization.
The establishment of ICMI, with Habibie as its top figure, represented a mutual transformation process of the devout Muslims and the bureaucracy, as a result of the socio-cultural and political convergence of the two sides. On the other hand, it also indicated the emergence of a common understanding between the Muslim community and the state bureaucracy, based on the sincere willingness of both sides to give and take on the grounds of their respective self-confidence and the disappearance of anxiety and suspicion. These factors have contributed to the shaping of a more favorable relationship between the state bureaucracy and the Muslim community. The state bureaucracy acknowledged some conceptions contributed by Muslim intellectuals as well as ulama’ in terms of developing the idea of Islam and the concept of Indonesian nation-state. All of these might be admitted as the greatest achievement ever made by Indonesian Muslims, and even greater than those achieved by Muslims when they were associated with political parties up to the late 1060s. They have also proved what Harry Benda once stated that the Islamic history of Indonesia is the history of the santri’s cultural expansion and its impact on Indonesian religious life and politics. All of the above achievements got their legitimacy from the establishment of ICMI that, in co-operation with the state bureaucracy, Islam could make a great advance in actualizing its principal aspirations. At least it was what really happened in the last decades of the twentieth century Indonesia.
In 1997, however, the world witnessed the Asian Economic Crisis, which was triggered by massive speculative attacks against the Thai currency and by suspicious real estate transactions. The crisis, inevitably, influenced other Southeast Asian countries very seriously, including Indonesia. Between July 1997 and January 1998 the economies of Indonesia and Malaysia lost almost 40 per cent of their value, and the value of Indonesian rupiah had dropped by almost 80 per cent by January 1998. At the same time, European and American investment capital was withdrawn from these countries. Unforeseen by most economists and within a very short period, all indicators of economic development were now pointing downward. Thus, during 1998, Indonesia had to witness its economy shrinking by almost 20 per cent as its official unemployment rate rose to almost 15 per cent. The disaster hit the middle class in particular, whose purchasing power was considerably impaired by the high prices, and whose real income dropped by an average of 40 per cent. Unsurprisingly, the economic crisis caused strong resistance against the regime of Suharto, whose family had enriched themselves by 40 billion dollars. The resistance movement was also supported by the activists of the middle class, i.e. the students. Yet, participants in this movement also included those social groups who resented Chinese and rebelled against the nouveaux-riches. On the other hand, the pressure of the international monetary institutions (World Bank and the International Monetary Funds) on the economic policy of the Suharto regime contributed to the heated atmosphere. To prevent a coup by the so-called “social wing” of the army under the patronage of General Wiranto, Suharto resigned on 21 May 1998. That was a week after the great riot had devastated Jakarta almost entirely. Based on the constitutional rule, Suharto handed over the power to his vice-president, Habibie.
Habibie’s presidency, unfortunately, did not last too long. He was trapped in a very difficult moment. He hesitantly co-operated with the democratic movement, at first by successfully organizing negotiations about new international credits, then by announcing elections for 1999, and finally by even promising political solution for the East Timor question. In the mean time, the legitimacy of ICMI which was founded at the government’s behest and under the patronage of Habibie dwindled to such an extent that an Islamically substantiated social reintegration did not have the slightest prospect. Muslims were now divided into many political parties, as Habibie gave a chance for that, by allowing the nation to establish new political parties, on behalf of democracy. The era has changed. Beginning from Habibie’s rule, the country was not obliged to uphold a mono-loyalty to a single power of the state. The era of reformation, as it was widely claimed, is a chance for multi-party to come up. New political parties claimed particular groupings as their primordial basis of mass recruitment, as liberally as that happened in the early stages of the Indonesian independence. It turned too hard to say that Muslims would be cohesively united anymore. The friction was easily manifested among different groups and the parties were subjects to more disintegration, before they broke up into smaller parties.
When finally Habibie was no more in power, the state was not too much concerned with the interests of Muslims, even when the president was a charismatic kyahi, Abdurrahman Wahid. The political atmosphere has very much changed, as the latter decided his own policy toward Muslims in a different way from that designed by the previous leaders. Now, when the state presidency is at the hand of Megawati, who was (unfortunately) not well educated in Islam, the improvement of Islamic image could not be trusted to her. But what happened so far may remind us that indeed Islam did not successfully transformed the life of the nation as a whole. In other words, Islam was only accepted as a part, and that in general, Islam in Indonesia is “only a thin veneer of symbols attached to a solid core of animistic and/or Hindu-Buddhist meaning.” Ki Jurumartani, one of the venerated Javanese savants, was once reported to have advised his “client,” stating: Thanks to the hard works of the walis, Islam has been a real force, more overwhelming than that of yours. If you strive against it and assault it, you will never be able to subjugate it. The only way workable is to embrace it to a limited extent. Give Muslims their delicious side dishes, but, candidly and gradually, reduce their meal. Clad in a Muslim attire to incite their admiration, but fill the heart beyond that attire with new fascinating legends instead of with exhortations of the walis. Meanwhile, make them threatened with your personal glory by inventing these legends… like your love affairs with Nyi Roro Kidul, the South Ocean Goddess.