INTEGRATION AND EXCLUSION

Abstract

Focusing on the recent Moluccan conflict (1999–2003), this article takes a closer look at a traditional village federation called Hatuhaha on Haruku island (Central Moluccas) and its specific version of Islam. From an anthropological perspective, it explores the dynamics in the Islam-adat relationship and the role of historical developments and politics on a local, national and international level. It not only throws new light on the so-called ‘religious’ conflict in the Moluccas, but also helps to highlight the diversity and complexity of Islam in contemporary Indonesia and the integrative and exclusivist potential of both Islam and adat. It underlines the importance of identity politics and the revival of tradition in post-Suharto Indonesia and reflects on the concepts of system-immanent and system-external violence or, more generally, of conflict and peace.

Notes

¹On various aspects and interpretations of the Moluccan conflict (with a focus on Central Moluccas) such as its local roots, instrumentalisation theories, the role of the media, and the role of the Laskar Jihad, a fundamentalist Islamist group from Java, see, among others, Aditjondro (2001), Benda-Beckmann (2004), Bertrand (2002), Bräuchler (2003, 2005), Human Rights Watch (1999), International Crisis Group (2000, 2002), Klinken (2001, 2007), Pannell (2003), Schulze (2002), Spyer (2002).

∗An earlier version of this article was presented at the conference ‘Islam in Ostindonesien: Historische & sozialanthropologische Perspektiven’, Goethe University Frankfurt, 29–30 November 2007. I thank the conference participants for their feedback and two anonymous IMW reviewers for their inspiring and helpful comments. I would also like to thank the Asia Research Institute at the National University of Singapore and Universitas Pattimura in Ambon for supporting this research project.

²For an excellent overview of these developments in Indonesia and the ambivalent role of adat, see Davidson and Henley (2007). For a more general discussion of the topic with a broader regional focus see Bräuchler and Widlok (2007). Of course, these issues are not confined to post-Suharto Indonesia. Since van Vollenhoven's commitment in the early 20th century to the preservation of adat and customary law and its acknowledgement as official law there has been a substantial amount of criticism of the reification, if not invention, of adat by the Dutch colonial rulers. For a detailed discussion, unfortunately based on a very narrow perception of the concept of ‘law’, see Burns (2004); for a more balanced account see Benda-Beckmann (2008).

³For an analysis of how Islam came to be an important religious element in Javanese identity by the early 19th century see Ricklefs (2007). Ricklefs calls the particular kind of Islam embracing both Islamic as well as local spiritual elements ‘mystic synthesis’. See also Geertz (1960).

⁴If not mentioned otherwise, the following derives from my field research between 2006 and 2008. For a short description of Islam in the Moluccas and the specifics of Hatuhaha Islam, see Bartels (1994), KITLV (1922); for sketchier descriptions of Islam Hatuhaha, see also Kraemer (1927), Radjawane (1964). For a more detailed history of Islam in the Moluccas, especially during the Japanese occupation, see Chauvel (1980, 1990). For a more general description of adat in Central Moluccas see Bartels (1977) and Cooley (1961).

⁵According to Cooley (1969) these uli predated the arrival of the Dutch in 1605, and perhaps even that of the Portuguese in 1512. He assumes that ‘the federating process occurred as the result of powerful alien groups moving in from Java, the Celebes or even the North Moluccas’; the dominant village provided its ruler as chieftain for the federation (Cooley 1969: 142).

⁶For one version of a settlement history/myth of Haruku, see Sopacua, Pattinama and Noya (1996).

⁷Generally, the adat figures I spoke to in Hatuhaha agree on this, although the original role of Kabauw in some cases seemed to have fallen into oblivion. For a slightly different interpretation see Bartels (1994: 168).

⁸I would like to thank Jennifer Lindsey for putting me in touch with Clara.

⁹ Kapata version recited by two adat figures in Pelauw, August 2006.

¹⁰During the Dutch period, Christians were sometimes called ‘black Dutch’ (Belanda hitam), members of a superior Christian class (Pankat Serani) (Chauvel 1980: 51, 1990: 41; Cooley 1961: 389, 1966: 125–6; Steijlen 1996: 35).

¹¹This is confirmed by the Dutch perspective on the developments during that time. As Valentijn reports, the Muslims ‘deliver small amounts of cloves and are a wicked, unruly, rebellious and perfidious people who deliver nothing voluntarily and need to be kept in check and obedient at huge cost; bitter Muslims [Mooren], public enemies of Christianity and beyond all hope that one day something good for the Netherlands will emerge out of it’ (Valentijn 1856: 454, translation by BB). Hence in 1655 a Dutch fort was erected right next to Pelauw village (Fraassen and Straver 2002: 99).

¹²On the Alaka war and its different perception and presentation by the Dutch and Ambonese see Bartels (1977: 118–21).

¹³Abdul Mutalib Sangadji (Rohomoni), for example, was member of Sarekat Islam, the precursor of Partai Sarekat Islam Indonesia (PSII). Together with Abubakar Tuasikal and Imam Taslim from Pelauw he was active in spreading PSII's influence in Ambon and Lease (for more details, see Ely 1963).

¹⁴These facts notwithstanding, Christians are often accused of not participating in the struggle for independence, due to the diverging histories of Christianity and Islam in the Moluccas. This accusation was often expressed by Muslims during the Moluccan conflict, which was interpreted as an attempt of Moluccan Christians to achieve independence for the Moluccas (see, for example, Bräuchler 2003; 2005: chapter 7).

¹⁵The movement was crushed by the Indonesian military in September 1950. It then moved underground until Christian Soumokil, its leading figure, was caught and executed in 1966. Thereafter, the RMS only lived on among Moluccans in exile in the Netherlands (see e.g. Steijlen 1996).

¹⁶For an analysis of the historical background of these developments on Java from 1830–1930 see Ricklefs (2007).

¹⁷Interestingly, in the above cited Kapata Hatuhaha, Kailolo's harbour is called Serambi, which means veranda and is interpreted to be the ‘Veranda of Mecca’, following the naming of the northern tip of Sumatra, where Islam first entered Indonesia.

¹⁸The Raja of Kailolo today calls this the hijra of Pelauw people to Ori.

¹⁹In parallel, more and more Ori people wanted to establish an autonomous village, independent from Pelauw. Due to the resistance of Pelauw's leadership and its strong influence on the regional political level (see below), due to family ties and complicated land issues, this is only an aspiration to this day.

²⁰Going on the haj is, of course, still a major financial endeavour. Since Kailolo people are traditionally economically strong, this is one reason for their high rates.

²¹See e.g. M. Hanafi Holle in detik News, 24 January 2009, http://www.detiknews.com/read/2009/01/24/202033/1073896/10/bentrok-di-ambon,-1-orang-tewas-tertembak# Accessed late January 2009.

²²For a detailed account on the conflict in Kariu and Hatuhaha, their search for peace and the culturally informed repatriation ceremony of Kariu, see Bräuchler (2009b).

²³Opinions about what caused the rapid withdrawal differ. While most Pelauw and Ori people I spoke to claim that they were called back by the ancestors or never really had plans to attack their brothers, others claim that the attackers broke off when they heard that Ori was itself under attack and in need of help (although the attack actually never happened).

²⁴For a detailed description and analysis of the pela system in Central Moluccas see Bartels (1977).

²⁵A central argument in constructivist theory is that identity markers, the patterns of inclusion and exclusion, can change according to social, economic or political circumstances (see, for example, Assmann 1999: 139, 153; Barth 1969; Cohen 1985: 74, 107, 116; Eriksen 1991: 129; Mach 1993: 7; Schlee 2002: 19; Weber 1976: 234, 239). The circumstances leading to this shift of emphasis are discussed in the various conflict analyses (see fn 1).

²⁶In their Strategic Planning (Rencana Strategis, RENSTRA) for the years 2003–2008, for example, the provincial government explicitly promoted culture as social capital and the importance of social anthropological investigations (Pemerintah Daerah Provinsi Maluku 2004).

²⁷This does not, of course, mean that there are no abuses of power that are also perceived as such by the local population.

²⁸For a comprehensive criticism of that view see Davidson and Henley (2007).