Kita tahu hermenetika (hermeneutics) tidak statis, dan mengalami perkembangan dan perbedaan internal antara para pemikirnya sendiri. Yang sedang saya kembangkan adalah dialektika dan dialog antara tradisi hermenetika di Barat (Jerman, Perancis, AS) dan tradisi penafsiran dalam Islam yang juga cukup kaya – meskipun tampak stagnan belakangan ini. Ada kecenderungan untuk menekankan salah satunya, karena keterbatasan pendidikan dan bacaan yang wajar, tapi masa depan kesarjanaan terletak pada keterampilan menggabungkan berbagai tradisi intelektual, sebisa mungkin. Paparan Anda terkesan mengutip secara"arbitrary" para pemikir, sekaligus menafikan tradisi-tradisi pemikiran tafsir dan tawil dalam Islam, khususnya ketika melihat teks seperti Al-Quran. Di pihak lain, ada banyak sarjana Islam yang menolak mentah-mentah hermenetika semata-mata karena itu Barat, asing, dan tidak berasal dari tradisi Islam. Saya kira masa depan kajian-kajian ilmu sosial dan kemanusiaan terletak pada bagaimana meramu berbagai tradisi intelektual dimanapun munculnya, terlepas dari seperti apa produk-produk yang akan dihasilkannya nanti.
Betul, hermenetika kontemporer digunakan untuk menganalisis ekspresi linguistik dan non-linguistik, meliputi ayat-ayat qualiyah dan kauniyah. Kita tahu ini. Dan sekarang Hermenetika, khususnya setelah Dilthey, Heidegger dan Gadamer, bukan hanya mengenai komunikasi simbolik, tapi mencakup kehidupan dan eksistensi manusia yang lebih fundamental, sehingga teks tertulis hanyalah bagian (part) dari keseluruhan kemanusiaan (the whole). Ada proses universalisasi hermenetika, dari terbatas membahas teks (teks filsafat dan Bible) kepada teks apa saja. Perkembangan ini harus disadari dulu. Memahami hermenetikanya hermenetika penting, seperti pentingnya memahami hermenetika itu sendiri, dan seperti pentingnya memahami ushul al-tafsir, ushul al-tawil, ushul fiqh, ushul al-din, dan seterusnya.Untuk poin hermenetika teks ini, saya tidak mampu melihat Al-Quran melampaui dirinya sebagai teks yang berbahasa dan berbudaya tertentu. Membaca Islam tidak bisa tanpa membaca Al-Quran sebagai teks linguistik. Membaca "semangat Muhammad" tidak bisa tanpa membaca Al-Qur'an, selain sirah dan hadith (terlepas problematika internal). Yang tersisa untuk kita yang hidup zaman sekarang adalah yah teks-teks itu. Dan kita harus terjun didalamnya, apapun pendekatan yang kita gunakan.
Ini bukan untuk menolak hermenetika dalam arti luas, tapi membatasi hermenetika teks (baik tertulis maupun terkatakan) untuk alasan sederhana. Isu yang saya fokuskan adalah apakah Al-Quran bicara mengenai homosexualitas. Kalo isunya adalah hubungan antara filsafat etika dan homesexualitas maka saya akan menggunakan hermenetika dalam arti luas. Juga bukan hubungan antara Tuhan dan homoseksualitas, karena Tuhan dibahas dalam semua agama, sehingga saya harus memasukkan semua teks-teks agama. Artinya, yang sedang kita "engage" adalah teks yang sudah terlanjur terkatakan dan tertulis dan menjadi kitab historis. Mustahil saya membaca Al-Qur'an tanpa bersikap adil terhadapnya sebagai teks tertulis atau terbaca (bukankah Al-Quran itu sendiri artinya Yang Dibaca). Saya tidak bisa menyamakan Al-Qur'an sebagai fenemona non-lingustik semata-mata, bukan karena Al-Quran diyakini sebagai firman Tuhan, tapi karena Al-Qur'an sebagai korpus yang menggunakan bahasa tertentu, Arab. Artinya, diskusi apapun tentang Al-Quran harus melihatnya sebagai teks dalam bahasa Arab yang memiliki grammar dan ciri-cirinya, baik sebagaidirinya maupun sebagai produk interaksi dengan bahasa-bahasa lain.
Karena itulah saya berpendapat tentang keterbatasan teks. Karena teks ada dalam bahasa tertentu, ada dalam konteks sosio-kultural tertentu. Dia tidak bisa ditarik-tarik semau pengguna di semua zaman, dia harus dipahami dalam konteks, terlepas dari motivasi dan tujuan-tujuan pembacanya. Teks dan konteks selalu berinteraksi. Disini pula lah selalu ada ketegangan antara tradisi dan akal, antara Al-Quran sebagai milik komunal dan pengalaman pribadi manusia sepanjang masa, antara tradisionalis dan liberal, dan seterusnya.
Namun keterbatasan teks dinamis, dan dimensi "terbatas" tidaklah terbatas, karena pembacaan terhadap dimensi, dan lingkup keterbatasan,tergantung individu, atau lebih tepatnya, agency: saya, Anda, atau siapapun. Adalah agency yang membuat apa yang tetap (thabit) dan yang berubah (mutahawwil) bisa tetap dan bisa berubah. Di sini faktor agency menjadi penting, sebagai dirinya sendiri, yang berinteraksi dengan teks dan konteks. Jadi ada teks, konteks, dan agency. Namun,sekali lagi, sebagai pembaca, saya selalu melihat ada ketegangan-ketegangan antara teks tertulis (internal contradiction) dan kontradiksi eksternal (antara teks dan kenyataan), dan untuk lebih luas lagi, antara berbagai agency. Baik ayat-ayat yang dibaca dan yang diamati/dialami memiliki keterbatasannya. Horison itu tak terbatas tapi juga terbatas. Horison saya melihat sebuah persoalan bisa kemana-mana, tak terbatas, tapi tetap terbatas. Pembacaan saya, Anda, dan siapa saja, adalah terbatas, meskipun keterbatasan tidak terbatas. Salah satu sebabnya adalah karena dunia itu berisi element-element/partikular-partikular yang majemuk (Bernard le Bovier de Fontenelle, Conversations on the Plurality of Worlds). Dunia tidak mungkin bisa dilihat oleh manusia sebagai keseluruhan (baik waktu dan cakupan). Penemuan-penemuan ilmiyah tentu saja mengarah pada standardisasi dan homogenisasi dunia. Dalam isu homoseksualitas, kontroversi ilmiyah masih terjadi mengenai"keilmiyahannya". Singkatnya, sebagaimana teks qauliyah terbatas, teks qauniyah juga terbatas.
Terlepas dari keterbatasan-keterbatasan itu, ada manfaatnya mencari rekonsiliasi-rekonsiliasi. Salah satu diskusi dalam hermenetika modern adalah hubungan antara bagian dan keseluruhan.Al-Qur'an sering dilihat sebagai satu paket kitab (sekitar 6236 ayat) sehingga ia bisa dibaca secara keseluruhan, baik berdasarkan sistematika Al-Quran (tahlili) maupun berdasarkan tema tertentu(maudhui), untuk menutupi kelemahan masing-masing. Untuk melihat isu homoseksualitas, pendekatan kronologis/historis dan tematik perlu digunakan. Misalnya, kemungkinan untuk "mensahkan" LGBT sebagai juga`Qurani" bisa dilakukan aktor (yang menyadari agency-nya) untuk menafsirkan konsep "khairat" (apa yang dianggap baik dalam suatumasyarakat). Tafsir ini masih memerlukan ijtihad yang lebih serius. Ijtihad harus terus mendialogkan teks Al-Quran dan ayat dalam artiluas (sign, signifier). Saya kira Islam peduli semua jenis tanda, tapi tidaklah mungkin menggunakan ayat-ayat kauniyah sambil sama sekali mengabaikan pembacaan terhadap ayat-ayat qauliyah.
Aspek lain yang bisa kita dikembangkan adalah penekanan sebagian hermenetika pada karakter alegoris, ketimbang tafsir literal terhadap teks. Nah pada level alegoris inilah kemungkinan tawil terhadap ayat-ayat yang berbicara sifat-sifat manusia dan hubungan jender bisa dilakukan. Aspek lain lagi yang perlu dikembangkan adalah intertekstualitas.Bagaimana teks-teks lain yang sebelum dan sezaman Al-Quran muncul dan bagaimana teks-teks itu bicara soal homoseksualitas dan seterusnya.
Terakhir, soal berpikir sebagai sarjana dan berpihak sebagai aktifis. Membaca dan berpihak memang sering dibedakan, tapi bisa juga dikombinasikan, meskipun tetap selalu ada ketegangan-ketegangan. Adanya kesadaran akan latarbelakang epistimologis seorang aktifis dalam melihat persoalan sudahlah cukup untuk menunjukkan kombinasi ini. Kedua pendekatan "public intellectual" atau "engaged intellectual" dan "pure academic" yang berusaha menjaga jarak (distantiation) dengan obyek kajiannya sama-sama memiliki kelebihan dan kelemahan, tergantung dari mana melihat. Membaca dan menulis adalah salah satu bentuk aksi empati, karena ia bisa dalam banyak bentuk. Disatu sisi, memposisikan diri sebagai akademisi bisa berarti mengambil jarak (distancing) sehingga kemungkinan empati dan kebersetujuan bisa lebih mungkin. Untuk topik LGBT, secara pribadi saya belum melihat pembacaan komprehensif dan meyakinkan secara akademik terhadap teks-teks agama. Tentu saja saya berpihak kepada mereka dalam segala upaya sadar mereka untuk berpikir, berbicara, dan aktif. Aktifisme kalangan LGBT sebagai "minoritas seksual" saya pahami dan saya dukung.Tapi saya masih ingin mengikuti dan membaca pembacaan LGBT terhadap Al-Quran dan kitab-kitab agama-agama lain secara lebih baik (sound interpretation). Untuk isu-isu lain, seperti kesetaraan jender, pluralisme agama, demokrasi dan civil society, saya punya lebih banyak sumber. Untuk LGBT saya masih perlu waktu dan perlu banyak orang seperti Farid yang saya kenal sejak lama dan kawan-kawan lain untuk terus berijtihad. Di Amerika dan di Inggris ada beberapa kelompok LGBT yang saya baca, tapi mereka masih belum meyakinkan dalam hal rekonsiliasi teks dan konteks, rekonsiliasi antara ayat-ayat qauliyah dan ayat-ayat kauniyah, dan dialog antara berbagai tradisi intelektual.
Monday, March 10, 2008
Kajian Islam Indonesia
Penting melihat perkembangan (atau kemunduran?) studi Islam di Indonesia, dan bagaimana arahnya kedepan. Cak Nur almarhum pernah menulis Islam Indonesia harus bergerak dari pinggiran ke pusat. Cak Nur melihat keunikan dan kompleksitas ciri-ciri Islam Indonesia: Islam dan budaya lokal, Islam dan Sufisme, dan Kebangkitan Islam. Ia berkesimpulan, seperti Hodgson dalam The Venture of Islam-nya, bahwa Islam Indonesia sama sejatinya dengan Islam di dunia lain; ini untuk menolak anggapan bahwa Islam Indonesia inferior dan marjinal dibanding Islam Arab. Supervisor saya di Edinburgh, yang juga supervisor Kak Edy di Columbia, William Roff, melihat Islam Indonesia sebagai industri pengetahun (knowledge industry) yang memiliki masa depan cerah. Roff membagi pendekatan kajian Islam menjadi tekstualis dan kontekstualis - apa yang seharusnya disatu sisi dan praktek budaya di sisi lain, dan sependapat dengan Salvatore dalam Islam and Political Discourse of Modernity yangmembuka hubungan dialektis antara wacana Orientalisme dan wacana otentisitas. Ia berharap banyak kepada lulusan IAIN yang menggabungkan berbagai tradisi pemikiran yang ia sebutkan itu. Saya melihat kesarjanaan Islam di Indonesia masih terus mencari bentuknya, dan saya kira perkembangannya sangat ditentukan oleh semua yang tertarik dan serius mengembangkannya. Pertama, selama ini, kajian-kajian lulusan Timur Tengah masih terfokus pada kajian teks dan kajian normatif. Kajian normatif tekstualis seperti ini sangat penting dalam hal pengembangan Islam sebagai agama anutan mayoritas umat Islam Indonesia. Transmisi ilmu dari Saudi, dari Mesir, Pakistan, cukup mendominasi. Melalui Pakistan, format kajian Islam di Indonesia menjadi lebih pada kajian-kajian negara Islam dan ekonomi Islam. Melalui Saudi, kajian-kajian Islam pada ushuluddin. Sementara Mesir, lebih beragam: tafsir, filsafat, dan seterusnya. Transmisi dari Timur Tengah dan Asia Selatan ini memiliki dampak pada pendekatan dan obyek kajian dan arah kajian Islam di Indonesia khususnya di lembaga-lembaga pendidikan berorientasi da'wa. Posisi IAIN menurut saya lebih unik, karena transmisinya tidak terbatas berasal dari negeri-negeri ini, tapi juga Iran, Afrika (Sudan), Leiden, dan negeri-negeri Barat, plus dari lulusan pasca sarjana IAIN/UIN sendiri. Dengan kata lain, kajianIslam di IAIN/UIN di tingkat S-1 cenderung lebih terbuka dan eklektik, dan salah satu resikonya cenderung generalis. Secara singkat bisa dikatakan, ciri kajian Islam di IAIN/UIN berada pada konteks yang lebih multi-kultural. Untuk topik ini, kolega saya Michael Feener baru menulis artikel tentang sejarah intelektualisme Islam dalam konteks multi-kultural. Saya sependapat dengan Feener, bahwa kajian Islam Indonesia lebih multikultural dibandingkan dengan kajian-kajian Islam di beberapa negara Arab sendiri. Kedua, dari sisi metodologi, kajian Islam di Indonesia, meskipun multikultural diatas, masih jauh dari kedalaman. Artinya, karena prosesnya masih transisional dan masih mencari jati diri keilmuan, sebagian sarjana Muslim Indonesia terlalu "excited", gembira, dengan teori-teori dan metode-metode baru yang muncul, tapi melupakan fokus, dan tidak melanjutkannya untuk penguatan. Misalnya, banyak mahasiswa/sarjana yang tertarik dengan metode sejarah dan hermenetik Arkoun, atau Abu Zaid, atau Hanafi, dan seterusnya, namun basis bahasa dan keseriusan masih kurang optimal. Saya melihat faktor bahasa masih menjadi penghambat. Arab, Inggris, Perancis, Jerman sudah mulai digemari, tapi masih terbatas orang-orangnya, karena kendala praktis dan kendala kesibukan dan tanggung jawab sosial. Kajian antropologi Islam (misalnya pendekatan Islam sebagai discursive tradition Talal Asad) mulai diminati. Sejarah Islam juga melihat banyak aspek sejarah lokal Muslim Indonesia. Kajian perbandingan agama juga cukup menjanjikan: tulisan-tulisan mengenai hubungan antar agama dan seterusnya. Kajian-kajian yang empiris cukup diminati kalangan mahasiswa dan para dosennya. Yang menarik di UIN sekarang adalah penamaan jurusan dengan Ushuluddin dan Filsafat dimaksudkan untuk terjadinya dialog antara agama dan filsafat (Timur, barat), Dakwah dan Komunikasi juga demikian, Tarbiiyya dan Pendidikan, Syariah dan Hukum; Adab dan Sastra, dan seterusnya. Revisi ini semua secara simbolik komitmen untuk senantiasa berdialog antara tradisi keilmuan Islam Arab dan tradisi keilmuan Barat. Saya kira, secara metodologis, UIN mengarah pada sintesis keilmuan yang kreatif, merangkul otentisitas dan modernitas sekaligus, memeluk tradisi dan perkembangan ilmu pengetahuan. Ketiga, dari segi produk, seperti jurnal ilmiyah, dalam 5 tahun terakhir, ada perkembangan yang cukup pesat. Hampir setiap jurusan, jika tidak fakultas di UIN Jakarta, dan UIN-UIN lain, ada jurnal ilmiyah. Kajian-kajiannya juga cukup beragam, dan cukup menjanjikan. Tapi sekali lagi, sumber-sumber teoritis dan metodologis masih kurang. Buku-buku terjemahan memang bermanfaat, tapi sumber-sumber teoritis dan metodologis dari buku-buku terjemahan menyisakan persoalan kredibilitas dan kurangnya kepercayaan diri. Jurnal-jurnal ilmiyah yang ada juga dalam beberapa bahasa Indonesia, Inggris, dan Arab. Jurnal-jurnal ilmiyah yang ada tentu saja melalui proses seleksi (meskipun sebagian besarnya peer-review; untuk Studi Islamika silahkan para editor menanggapi). Dari segi kuantitas cukup menjanjikan; tapi dari segi kualitas, potensi pengembangan kreatif semakin besar. Saya kira pasca-sarjana UIN adalah pusat kajian Islam yang paling strategis. Keempat, saya kira penting membandingkan kajian Islam di Indonesia dan kajian Islam di Barat (khususnya di AS dan di Inggris), meskipun memiliki dinamikanya sendiri, bisa dijadikan kerangka menilai kajian Islam Indonesia. Secara singkat begini. Kajian Islam di Indonesia ternyata lebih multikultural dibandingkan dengan kajian Islam di AS. Maksud saya, banyak sarjana Islam di AS mengabaikan wacana kajian Islam di dunia Islam, baik di Arab, maupun di wilayah lain seperti Asia Tenggara. Banyak sarjana Islam Indonesia lebih fasih mengikuti perkembangan keilmuan di Arab dan di Barat, ketimbang sebaliknya. Di jurusan Islamic and Middle Eastern Studies di Edinburgh misalnya, sarjana Arabicist dan Islamicist cukup banyak merujuk kitab-kitab klasik untuk kajian-kajian tekstual. Sarjana ulum al-Qur'an di sana merujuk banyak kitab-kitab ulum -AlQur'an dan tafsir. Ahli sejarah Islam seperti Carole Hillenbrand merujuk kitab-kitab Arab abad pertengahan, seperti karyanya the Crusadesfrom an Islamic Perspective. Richard Bell and muridnya Montgomery Watt menulis karya-karyanya yang komprehensif berdasarkan kitab-kitab Arab. Karyanya tentang Al-Ghazali, dan teologi Islam misalnya bersumberkan karya-karya Arab. Tapi sarjana-sarjana yunior masih kurang apresiasi terhadap karya-karya luar. Pertama, karya-karya sarjana Islamis dan Arabis kontemporer memang kurang merespons dan kurang berdialog dengan karya-karya kontemporer di dunia Arab. Di AS, setidaknya pada Konferensi American Academy of Religion beberapa waktu lalu, kajian Islam di Asia Tenggara, kurang mendapatkan tempat dibandingkan dengan kajian-kajian Islam kontemporer di Amerika yang lebih terfokus pada topik-topik ras, jender, demokrasi, selain Rumi, Ghazali, Ibn Arabi, Shafii, dan sebagainya. Metodologinya cukup beragam, namun Islam Asia Tenggara, yang penganutnya terbesar di dunia, masih dianggap marginal, karena berbagai faktor (bahasa, budaya, geografi, dst). Di sisi lain kajian Islam di Arabkurang membaca kajian-kajian Islam Barat dan apalagi Indonesia. Dalam percakapan kami tentang studi Islam di AS, ada usulan bahwa karya-karya Islam di Barat diterjemahkan kedalam bahasa Arab, sehingga bisa diakses intelektual Arab sana. Sarjana-sarjana Islam di dunia Arab seharusnya juga mengakses karya-karya Islam di Barat dengan cara memperkuat bahasa Inggris, Perancis, atau Jerman mereka. Jadi, problem kurangnya dialog antar "peradaban" harus terjadi di semua bagian: di Barat dan di Timur pula. Tentu saja kita tahu kategori Timur-Barat ini semata-mata demografik, meskipun ada pula perbedaan2nya. Azyumardi Azra pernah mengingatkan saya untuk terus mengembangkan studi komparatif Timur Tengah dan Asia Tenggara karena memang sangat langka saat ini, baik di TimTeng maupun di Asteng. Di Indonesia saja, meskipun sudah ada ketertarikan, pakar yang memiliki keterampilan komparatif itu dapat dihitung dengan jari.Kedepan, arah kajian Islam di Indonesia khususnya dan dimanapun, harus lebih cross-cultural, cross-continental, cross-linguistic, dan bahkan cross-generational. Yang terakhir ini, cross-generational, juga masih langka, dalam arti debat dan dialog dengan generasi-generasi klasik, pertengahan, dan baru. Mereka yang fokus pada topik-topik kontemporer (Antropologi, political science, sociology, misalnya), tentu saja merasa tidak perlu atau sulit mengakses karya-karya klasik dan pertengahan di dunia Arab, selain bahwa bidang-bidang ini tidak berkembang di dunia Arab. Topik kajian dan periode kajian juga menentukan metodologi apa yang paling pas digunakan, namun dialog metodologis saya kira hal yang penting dan strategis sehingga ilmu pengetahuan bisa lebih "universal", bukan cuma milik dan untuk kampus-kampus atau negeri-negeri tertentu saja.
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Most Muslims Condemn Terrorism, Seek Religious Democracy
http://afp.google.com/article/ALeqM5i5ajtNJ0qTTRMBSFpYngMOjrmDbQ
27 Feb 2008
Major survey challenges Western perceptions of Islam
WASHINGTON (AFP) — A huge survey of the world's Muslims releasedTuesday challenges Western notions that equate Islam with radicalismand violence.
The survey, conducted by the Gallup polling agency over six years andthree continents, seeks to dispel the belief held by some in the Westthat Islam itself is the driving force of radicalism.
It shows that the overwhelming majority of Muslims condemned theattacks against the United States on September 11, 2001 and othersubsequent terrorist attacks, the authors of the study said in Washington.
"Samuel Harris said in the Washington Times (in 2004): 'It is time weadmitted that we are not at war with terrorism. We are at war withIslam'," Dalia Mogahed, co-author of the book "Who Speaks for Islam"which grew out of the study, told a news conference here.
"The argument Mr Harris makes is that religion in the primary driver"of radicalism and violence, she said.
"Religion is an important part of life for the overwhelming majorityof Muslims, and if it were indeed the driver for radicalisation, thiswould be a serious issue."
But the study, which Gallup says surveyed a sample equivalent to 90percent of the world's Muslims, showed that widespread religiosity"does not translate into widespread support for terrorism," saidMogahed, director of the Gallup Center for Muslim Studies.
About 93 percent of the world's 1.3 billion Muslims are moderates andonly seven percent are politically radical, according to the poll,based on more than 50,000 interviews.
In majority Muslim countries, overwhelming majorities said religionwas a very important part of their lives -- 99 percent in Indonesia,98 percent in Egypt, 95 percent in Pakistan.
But only seven percent of the billion Muslims surveyed -- the radicals-- condoned the attacks on the United States in 2001, the poll showed.
Moderate Muslims interviewed for the poll condemned the 9/11 attackson New York and Washington because innocent lives were lost andcivilians killed.
"Some actually cited religious justifications for why they wereagainst 9/11, going as far as to quote from the Koran -- for example,the verse that says taking one innocent life is like killing allhumanity," she said.
Meanwhile, radical Muslims gave political, not religious, reasons forcondoning the attacks, the poll showed.
The survey shows radicals to be neither more religious than theirmoderate counterparts, nor products of abject poverty or refugee camps.
"The radicals are better educated, have better jobs, and are morehopeful with regard to the future than mainstream Muslims," JohnEsposito, who co-authored "Who Speaks for Islam", said.
"Ironically, they believe in democracy even more than many of themainstream moderates do, but they're more cynical about whetherthey'll ever get it," said Esposito, a professor of Islamic studies atGeorgetown University in Washington.
Gallup launched the study following 9/11, after which US PresidentGeorge W. Bush asked in a speech, which is quoted in the book: "Why dothey hate us?"
"They hate... a democratically elected government," Bush offered as areason.
"They hate our freedoms -- our freedom of religion, our freedom ofspeech, our freedom to vote and assemble and disagree with each other."
But the poll, which gives ordinary Muslims a voice in the globaldebate that they have been drawn into by 9/11, showed that mostMuslims -- including radicals -- admire the West for its democracy,freedoms and technological prowess.
What they do not want is to have Western ways forced on them, it said.
"Muslims want self-determination, but not an American-imposed and-defined democracy. They don't want secularism or theocracy. What themajority wants is democracy with religious values," said Esposito.
The poll has given voice to Islam's silent majority, said Mogahed.
"A billion Muslims should be the ones that we look to, to understandwhat they believe, rather than a vocal minority," she told AFP.
Muslims in 40 countries in Africa, Asia, Europe and the Middle Eastwere interviewed for the survey, which is part of Gallup's World Pollthat aims to interview 95 percent of the world's population.
27 Feb 2008
Major survey challenges Western perceptions of Islam
WASHINGTON (AFP) — A huge survey of the world's Muslims releasedTuesday challenges Western notions that equate Islam with radicalismand violence.
The survey, conducted by the Gallup polling agency over six years andthree continents, seeks to dispel the belief held by some in the Westthat Islam itself is the driving force of radicalism.
It shows that the overwhelming majority of Muslims condemned theattacks against the United States on September 11, 2001 and othersubsequent terrorist attacks, the authors of the study said in Washington.
"Samuel Harris said in the Washington Times (in 2004): 'It is time weadmitted that we are not at war with terrorism. We are at war withIslam'," Dalia Mogahed, co-author of the book "Who Speaks for Islam"which grew out of the study, told a news conference here.
"The argument Mr Harris makes is that religion in the primary driver"of radicalism and violence, she said.
"Religion is an important part of life for the overwhelming majorityof Muslims, and if it were indeed the driver for radicalisation, thiswould be a serious issue."
But the study, which Gallup says surveyed a sample equivalent to 90percent of the world's Muslims, showed that widespread religiosity"does not translate into widespread support for terrorism," saidMogahed, director of the Gallup Center for Muslim Studies.
About 93 percent of the world's 1.3 billion Muslims are moderates andonly seven percent are politically radical, according to the poll,based on more than 50,000 interviews.
In majority Muslim countries, overwhelming majorities said religionwas a very important part of their lives -- 99 percent in Indonesia,98 percent in Egypt, 95 percent in Pakistan.
But only seven percent of the billion Muslims surveyed -- the radicals-- condoned the attacks on the United States in 2001, the poll showed.
Moderate Muslims interviewed for the poll condemned the 9/11 attackson New York and Washington because innocent lives were lost andcivilians killed.
"Some actually cited religious justifications for why they wereagainst 9/11, going as far as to quote from the Koran -- for example,the verse that says taking one innocent life is like killing allhumanity," she said.
Meanwhile, radical Muslims gave political, not religious, reasons forcondoning the attacks, the poll showed.
The survey shows radicals to be neither more religious than theirmoderate counterparts, nor products of abject poverty or refugee camps.
"The radicals are better educated, have better jobs, and are morehopeful with regard to the future than mainstream Muslims," JohnEsposito, who co-authored "Who Speaks for Islam", said.
"Ironically, they believe in democracy even more than many of themainstream moderates do, but they're more cynical about whetherthey'll ever get it," said Esposito, a professor of Islamic studies atGeorgetown University in Washington.
Gallup launched the study following 9/11, after which US PresidentGeorge W. Bush asked in a speech, which is quoted in the book: "Why dothey hate us?"
"They hate... a democratically elected government," Bush offered as areason.
"They hate our freedoms -- our freedom of religion, our freedom ofspeech, our freedom to vote and assemble and disagree with each other."
But the poll, which gives ordinary Muslims a voice in the globaldebate that they have been drawn into by 9/11, showed that mostMuslims -- including radicals -- admire the West for its democracy,freedoms and technological prowess.
What they do not want is to have Western ways forced on them, it said.
"Muslims want self-determination, but not an American-imposed and-defined democracy. They don't want secularism or theocracy. What themajority wants is democracy with religious values," said Esposito.
The poll has given voice to Islam's silent majority, said Mogahed.
"A billion Muslims should be the ones that we look to, to understandwhat they believe, rather than a vocal minority," she told AFP.
Muslims in 40 countries in Africa, Asia, Europe and the Middle Eastwere interviewed for the survey, which is part of Gallup's World Pollthat aims to interview 95 percent of the world's population.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Civil and Religious Law in England
Civil and Religious Law in England: a Religious Perspective
The Archbishop of Canterbury, Dr. Rowan Williams gave the foundation lecture at the Royal Courts of Justice on February 7, 2008.
The title of this series of lectures signals the existence of what is very widely felt to be a growing challenge in our society – that is, the presence of communities which, while no less 'law-abiding' than the rest of the population, relate to something other than the British legal system alone. But, as I hope to suggest, the issues that arise around what level of public or legal recognition, if any, might be allowed to the legal provisions of a religious group, are not peculiar to Islam: we might recall that, while the law of the Church of England is the law of the land, its daily operation is in the hands of authorities to whom considerable independence is granted. And beyond the specific issues that arise in relation to the practicalities of recognition or delegation, there are large questions in the background about what we understand by and expect from the law, questions that are more sharply focused than ever in a largely secular social environment. I shall therefore be concentrating on certain issues around Islamic law to begin with, in order to open up some of these wider matters.
Among the manifold anxieties that haunt the discussion of the place of Muslims in British society, one of the strongest, reinforced from time to time by the sensational reporting of opinion polls, is that Muslim communities in this country seek the freedom to live under sharia law. And what most people think they know of sharia is that it is repressive towards women and wedded to archaic and brutal physical punishments; just a few days ago, it was reported that a 'forced marriage' involving a young woman with learning difficulties had been 'sanctioned under sharia law' – the kind of story that, in its assumption that we all 'really' know what is involved in the practice of sharia, powerfully reinforces the image of – at best – a pre-modern system in which human rights have no role. The problem is freely admitted by Muslim scholars. 'In the West', writes Tariq Ramadan in his groundbreaking Western Muslims and the Future of Islam, 'the idea of Sharia calls up all the darkest images of Islam...It has reached the extent that many Muslim intellectuals do not dare even to refer to the concept for fear of frightening people or arousing suspicion of all their work by the mere mention of the word' (p.31). Even when some of the more dramatic fears are set aside, there remains a great deal of uncertainty about what degree of accommodation the law of the land can and should give to minority communities with their own strongly entrenched legal and moral codes. As such, this is not only an issue about Islam but about other faith groups, including Orthodox Judaism; and indeed it spills over into some of the questions which have surfaced sharply in the last twelve months about the right of religious believers in general to opt out of certain legal provisions – as in the problems around Roman Catholic adoption agencies which emerged in relation to the Sexual Orientation Regulations last spring.
This lecture will not attempt a detailed discussion of the nature of sharia, which would be far beyond my competence; my aim is only, as I have said, to tease out some of the broader issues around the rights of religious groups within a secular state, with a few thought about what might be entailed in crafting a just and constructive relationship between Islamic law and the statutory law of the United Kingdom. But it is important to begin by dispelling one or two myths about sharia; so far from being a monolithic system of detailed enactments, sharia designates primarily – to quote Ramadan again – 'the expression of the universal principles of Islam [and] the framework and the thinking that makes for their actualization in human history' (32). Universal principles: as any Muslim commentator will insist, what is in view is the eternal and absolute will of God for the universe and for its human inhabitants in particular; but also something that has to be 'actualized', not a ready-made system. If shar' designates the essence of the revealed Law, sharia is the practice of actualizing and applying it; while certain elements of the sharia are specified fairly exactly in the Qur'an and Sunna and in the hadith recognised as authoritative in this respect, there is no single code that can be identified as 'the' sharia. And when certain states impose what they refer to as sharia or when certain Muslim activists demand its recognition alongside secular jurisdictions, they are usually referring not to a universal and fixed code established once for all but to some particular concretisation of it at the hands of a tradition of jurists. In the hands of contemporary legal traditionalists, this means simply that the application of sharia must be governed by the judgements of representatives of the classical schools of legal interpretation. But there are a good many voices arguing for an extension of the liberty of ijtihad – basically reasoning from first principles rather than simply the collation of traditional judgements (see for example Louis Gardet, 'Un prealable aux questions soulevees par les droits de l'homme: l'actualisation de la Loi religieuse musulmane aujourd'hui', Islamochristiana 9, 1983, 1-12, and Abdullah Saeed, 'Trends in Contemporary Islam: a Preliminary Attempt at a Classification', The Muslim World, 97:3, 2007, 395-404, esp. 401-2).
Thus, in contrast to what is sometimes assumed, we do not simply have a standoff between two rival legal systems when we discuss Islamic and British law. On the one hand, sharia depends for its legitimacy not on any human decision, not on votes or preferences, but on the conviction that it represents the mind of God; on the other, it is to some extent unfinished business so far as codified and precise provisions are concerned. To recognise sharia is to recognise a method of jurisprudence governed by revealed texts rather than a single system. In a discussion based on a paper from Mona Siddiqui at a conference last year at Al Akhawayn University in Morocco, the point was made by one or two Muslim scholars that an excessively narrow understanding sharia as simply codified rules can have the effect of actually undermining the universal claims of the Qur'an.
But while such universal claims are not open for renegotiation, they also assume the voluntary consent or submission of the believer, the free decision to be and to continue a member of the ummaSharia is not, in that sense, intrinsically to do with any demand for Muslim dominance over non-Muslims. Both historically and in the contemporary context, Muslim states have acknowledged that membership of the umma is not coterminous with membership in a particular political society: in modern times, the clearest articulation of this was in the foundation of the Pakistani state under Jinnah; but other examples (Morocco, Jordan) could be cited of societies where there is a concept of citizenship that is not identical with belonging to the umma. Such societies, while not compromising or weakening the possibility of unqualified belief in the authority and universality of sharia, or even the privileged status of Islam in a nation, recognise that there can be no guarantee that the state is religiously homogeneous and that the relationships in which the individual stands and which define him or her are not exclusively with other Muslims. There has therefore to be some concept of common good that is not prescribed solely in terms of revealed Law, however provisional or imperfect such a situation is thought to be. And this implies in turn that the Muslim, even in a predominantly Muslim state, has something of a dual identity, as citizen and as believer within the community of the faithful.
It is true that this account would be hotly contested by some committed Islamic primitivists, by followers of Sayyid Qutb and similar polemicists; but it is fair to say that the great body of serious jurists in the Islamic world would recognise this degree of political plurality as consistent with Muslim integrity. In this sense, while (as I have said) we are not talking about two rival systems on the same level, there is some community of understanding between Islamic social thinking and the categories we might turn to in the non-Muslim world for the understanding of law in the most general context. There is a recognition that our social identities are not constituted by one exclusive set of relations or mode of belonging – even if one of those sets is regarded as relating to the most fundamental and non-negotiable level of reality, as established by a 'covenant' between the divine and the human (as in Jewish and Christian thinking; once again, we are not talking about an exclusively Muslim problem). The danger arises not only when there is an assumption on the religious side that membership of the community (belonging to the umma or the Church or whatever) is the only significant category, so that participation in other kinds of socio-political arrangement is a kind of betrayal. It also occurs when secular government assumes a monopoly in terms of defining public and political identity. There is a position – not at all unfamiliar in contemporary discussion – which says that to be a citizen is essentially and simply to be under the rule of the uniform law of a sovereign state, in such a way that any other relations, commitments or protocols of behaviour belong exclusively to the realm of the private and of individual choice. As I have maintained in several other contexts, this is a very unsatisfactory account of political reality in modern societies; but it is also a problematic basis for thinking of the legal category of citizenship and the nature of human interdependence. Maleiha Malik, following Alasdair MacIntyre, argues in an essay on 'Faith and the State of Jurisprudence' (Faith in Law: Essays in Legal Theory, ed. Peter Oliver, Sionaidh Douglas Scott and Victor Tadros, 2000, pp.129-49) that there is a risk of assuming that 'mainstreram' jurisprudence should routinely and unquestioningly bypass the variety of ways in which actions are as a matter of fact understood by agents in the light of the diverse sorts of communal belonging they are involved in. If that is the assumption, 'the appropriate temporal unit for analysis tends to be the basic action. Instead of concentrating on the history of the individual or the origins of the social practice which provides the context within which the act is performed, conduct tends to be studied as an isolated and one-off act' (139-40). And another essay in the same collection, Anthony Bradney's 'Faced by Faith' (89-105) offers some examples of legal rulings which have disregarded the account offered by religious believers of the motives for their own decisions, on the grounds that the court alone is competent to assess the coherence or even sincerity of their claims. And when courts attempt to do this on the grounds of what is 'generally acceptable' behaviour in a society, they are open, Bradney claims (102-3) to the accusation of undermining the principle of liberal pluralism by denying someone the right to speak in their own voice. The distinguished ecclesiastical lawyer, Chancellor Mark Hill, has also underlined in a number of recent papers the degree of confusion that has bedevilled recent essays in adjudicating disputes with a religious element, stressing the need for better definition of the kind of protection for religious conscience that the law intends (see particularly his essay with Russell Sandberg, 'Is Nothing Sacred? Clashing Symbols in a Secular World', Public Law 3, 2007, pp.488-506).
I have argued recently in a discussion of the moral background to legislation about incitement to religious hatred that any crime involving religious offence has to be thought about in terms of its tendency to create or reinforce a position in which a religious person or group could be gravely disadvantaged in regard to access to speaking in public in their own right: offence needs to be connected to issues of power and status, so that a powerful individual or group making derogatory or defamatory statements about a disadvantaged minority might be thought to be increasing that disadvantage. The point I am making here is similar. If the law of the land takes no account of what might be for certain agents a proper rationale for behaviour – for protest against certain unforeseen professional requirements, for instance, which would compromise religious discipline or belief – it fails in a significant way to communicate with someone involved in the legal process (or indeed to receive their communication), and so, on at least one kind of legal theory (expounded recently, for example, by R.A. Duff), fails in one of its purposes.
The implications are twofold. There is a plain procedural question – and neither Bradney nor Malik goes much beyond this – about how existing courts function and what weight is properly give to the issues we have been discussing. But there is a larger theoretical and practical issue about what it is to live under more than one jurisdiction., which takes us back to the question we began with – the role of sharia (or indeed Orthodox Jewish practice) in relation to the routine jurisdiction of the British courts. In general, when there is a robust affirmation that the law of the land should protect individuals on the grounds of their corporate religious identity and secure their freedom to fulfil religious duties, a number of queries are regularly raised. I want to look at three such difficulties briefly. They relate both to the question of whether there should be a higher level of attention to religious identity and communal rights in the practice of the law, and to the larger issue I mentioned of something like a delegation of certain legal functions to the religious courts of a community; and this latter question, it should be remembered, is relevant not only to Islamic law but also to areas of Orthodox Jewish practice.
The first objection to a higher level of public legal regard being paid to communal identity is that it leaves legal process (including ordinary disciplinary process within organisations) at the mercy of what might be called vexatious appeals to religious scruple. A recent example might be the reported refusal of a Muslim woman employed by Marks and Spencer to handle a book of Bible stories. Or we might think of the rather more serious cluster of questions around forced marriages, where again it is crucial to distinguish between cultural and strictly religious dimensions. While Bradney rightly cautions against the simple dismissal of alleged scruple by judicial authorities who have made no attempt to understand its workings in the construction of people's social identities, it should be clear also that any recognition of the need for such sensitivity must also have a recognised means of deciding the relative seriousness of conscience-related claims, a way of distinguishing purely cultural habits from seriously-rooted matters of faith and discipline, and distinguishing uninformed prejudice from religious prescription. There needs to be access to recognised authority acting for a religious group: there is already, of course, an Islamic Shari'a Council, much in demand for rulings on marital questions in the UK; and if we were to see more latitude given in law to rights and scruples rooted in religious identity, we should need a much enhanced and quite sophisticated version of such a body, with increased resource and a high degree of community recognition, so that 'vexatious' claims could be summarily dealt with. The secular lawyer needs to know where the potential conflict is real, legally and religiously serious, and where it is grounded in either nuisance or ignorance. There can be no blank cheques given to unexamined scruples.
The second issue, a very serious one, is that recognition of 'supplementary jurisdiction' in some areas, especially family law, could have the effect of reinforcing in minority communities some of the most repressive or retrograde elements in them, with particularly serious consequences for the role and liberties of women. The 'forced marriage' question is the one most often referred to here, and it is at the moment undoubtedly a very serious and scandalous one; but precisely because it has to do with custom and culture rather than directly binding enactments by religious authority, I shall refer to another issue. It is argued that the provision for the inheritance of widows under a strict application of sharia has the effect of disadvantaging them in what the majority community might regard as unacceptable ways. A legal (in fact Qur'anic) provision which in its time served very clearly to secure a widow's position at a time when this was practically unknown in the culture becomes, if taken absolutely literally, a generator of relative insecurity in a new context (see, for example, Ann Elizabeth Mayer, Islam and Human Rights. Tradition and Politics, 1999, p.111). The problem here is that recognising the authority of a communal religious court to decide finally and authoritatively about such a question would in effect not merely allow an additional layer of legal routes for resolving conflicts and ordering behaviour but would actually deprive members of the minority community of rights and liberties that they were entitled to enjoy as citizens; and while a legal system might properly admit structures or protocols that embody the diversity of moral reasoning in a plural society by allowing scope for a minority group to administer its affairs according to its own convictions, it can hardly admit or 'license' protocols that effectively take away the rights it acknowledges as generally valid.
To put the question like that is already to see where an answer might lie, though it is not an answer that will remove the possibility of some conflict. If any kind of plural jurisdiction is recognised, it would presumably have to be under the rubric that no 'supplementary' jurisdiction could have the power to deny access to the rights granted to other citizens or to punish its members for claiming those rights. This is in effect to mirror what a minority might themselves be requesting – that the situation should not arise where membership of one group restricted the freedom to live also as a member of an overlapping group, that (in this case) citizenship in a secular society should not necessitate the abandoning of religious discipline, any more than religious discipline should deprive one of access to liberties secured by the law of the land, to the common benefits of secular citizenship – or, better, to recognise that citizenship itself is a complex phenomenon not bound up with any one level of communal belonging but involving them all.
But this does not guarantee an absence of conflict. In the particular case we have mentioned, the inheritance rights of widows, it is already true that some Islamic societies have themselves proved flexible (Malaysia is a case in point). But let us take a more neuralgic matter still: what about the historic Islamic prohibition against apostasy, and the draconian penalties entailed? In a society where freedom of religion is secured by law, it is obviously impossible for any group to claim that conversion to another faith is simply disallowed or to claim the right to inflict punishment on a convert. We touch here on one of the most sensitive areas not only in thinking about legal practice but also in interfaith relations. A significant number of contemporary Islamic jurists and scholars would say that the Qur'anic pronouncements on apostasy which have been regarded as the ground for extreme penalties reflect a situation in which abandoning Islam was equivalent to adopting an active stance of violent hostility to the community, so that extreme penalties could be compared to provisions in other jurisdictions for punishing spies or traitors in wartime; but that this cannot be regarded as bearing on the conditions now existing in the world. Of course such a reading is wholly unacceptable to 'primitivists' in Islam, for whom this would be an example of a rationalising strategy, a style of interpretation (ijtihad) uncontrolled by proper traditional norms. But, to use again the terminology suggested a moment ago, as soon as it is granted that – even in a dominantly Islamic society – citizens have more than one set of defining relationships under the law of the state, it becomes hard to justify enactments that take it for granted that the only mode of contact between these sets of relationships is open enmity; in which case, the appropriateness of extreme penalties for conversion is not obvious even within a fairly strict Muslim frame of reference. Conversely, where the dominant legal culture is non-Islamic, but there is a level of serious recognition of the corporate reality and rights of the umma, there can be no assumption that outside the umma the goal of any other jurisdiction is its destruction. Once again, there has to be a recognition that difference of conviction is not automatically a lethal threat.
As I have said, this is a delicate and complex matter involving what is mostly a fairly muted but nonetheless real debate among Muslim scholars in various contexts. I mention it partly because of its gravity as an issue in interfaith relations and in discussions of human rights and the treatment of minorities, partly to illustrate how the recognition of what I have been calling membership in different but overlapping sets of social relationship (what others have called 'multiple affiliations') can provide a framework for thinking about these neuralgic questions of the status of women and converts. Recognising a supplementary jurisdiction cannot mean recognising a liberty to exert a sort of local monopoly in some areas. The Jewish legal theorist Ayelet Shachar, in a highly original and significant monograph on Multicultural Jurisdictions: Cultural Differences and Women's Rights (2001), explores the risks of any model that ends up 'franchising' a non-state jurisdiction so as to reinforce its most problematic features and further disadvantage its weakest members: 'we must be alert', she writes, 'to the potentially injurious effects of well-meaning external protections upon different categories of group members here – effects which may unwittingly exacerbate preexisting internal power hierarchies' (113). She argues that if we are serious in trying to move away from a model that treats one jurisdiction as having a monopoly of socially defining roles and relations, we do not solve any problems by a purely uncritical endorsement of a communal legal structure which can only be avoided by deciding to leave the community altogether. We need, according to Shachar, to 'work to overcome the ultimatum of "either your culture or your rights"' (114).
So the second objection to an increased legal recognition of communal religious identities can be met if we are prepared to think about the basic ground rules that might organise the relationship between jurisdictions, making sure that we do not collude with unexamined systems that have oppressive effect or allow shared public liberties to be decisively taken away by a supplementary jurisdiction. Once again, there are no blank cheques. I shall return to some of the details of Shachar's positive proposal; but I want to move on to the third objection, which grows precisely out of the complexities of clarifying the relations between jurisdictions. Is it not both theoretically and practically mistaken to qualify our commitment to legal monopoly? So much of our thinking in the modern world, dominated by European assumptions about universal rights, rests, surely, on the basis that the law is the law; that everyone stands before the public tribunal on exactly equal terms, so that recognition of corporate identities or, more seriously, of supplementary jurisdictions is simply incoherent if we want to preserve the great political and social advances of Western legality.
There is a bit of a risk here in the way we sometimes talk about the universal vision of post-Enlightenment politics. The great protest of the Enlightenment was against authority that appealed only to tradition and refused to justify itself by other criteria – by open reasoned argument or by standards of successful provision of goods and liberties for the greatest number. Its claim to override traditional forms of governance and custom by looking towards a universal tribunal was entirely intelligible against the background of despotism and uncritical inherited privilege which prevailed in so much of early modern Europe. The most positive aspect of this moment in our cultural history was its focus on equal levels of accountability for all and equal levels of access for all to legal process. In this respect, it was in fact largely the foregrounding and confirming of what was already encoded in longstanding legal tradition, Roman and mediaeval, which had consistently affirmed the universality and primacy of law (even over the person of the monarch). But this set of considerations alone is not adequate to deal with the realities of complex societies: it is not enough to say that citizenship as an abstract form of equal access and equal accountability is either the basis or the entirety of social identity and personal motivation. Where this has been enforced, it has proved a weak vehicle for the life of a society and has often brought violent injustice in its wake (think of the various attempts to reduce citizenship to rational equality in the France of the 1790's or the China of the 1970's). Societies that are in fact ethnically, culturally and religiously diverse are societies in which identity is formed, as we have noted by different modes and contexts of belonging, 'multiple affiliation'. The danger is in acting as if the authority that managed the abstract level of equal citizenship represented a sovereign order which then allowed other levels to exist. But if the reality of society is plural – as many political theorists have pointed out – this is a damagingly inadequate account of common life, in which certain kinds of affiliation are marginalised or privatised to the extent that what is produced is a ghettoised pattern of social life, in which particular sorts of interest and of reasoning are tolerated as private matters but never granted legitimacy in public as part of a continuing debate about shared goods and priorities.
But this means that we have to think a little harder about the role and rule of law in a plural society of overlapping identities. Perhaps it helps to see the universalist vision of law as guaranteeing equal accountability and access primarily in a negative rather than a positive sense – that is, to see it as a mechanism whereby any human participant in a society is protected against the loss of certain elementary liberties of self-determination and guaranteed the freedom to demand reasons for any actions on the part of others for actions and policies that infringe self-determination. This is a slightly more gentle or tactful way of expressing what some legal theorists will describe as the 'monopoly of legitimate violence' by the law of a state, the absolute restriction of powers of forcible restraint to those who administer statutory law. This is not to reduce society itself primarily to an uneasy alliance of self-determining individuals arguing about the degree to which their freedom is limited by one another and needing forcible restraint in a war of all against all – though that is increasingly the model which a narrowly rights-based culture fosters, producing a manically litigious atmosphere and a conviction of the inadequacy of customary ethical restraints and traditions – of what was once called 'civility'. The picture will not be unfamiliar, and there is a modern legal culture which loves to have it so. But the point of defining legal universalism as a negative thing is that it allows us to assume, as I think we should, that the important springs of moral vision in a society will be in those areas which a systematic abstract universalism regards as 'private' – in religion above all, but also in custom and habit. The role of 'secular' law is not the dissolution of these things in the name of universalism but the monitoring of such affiliations to prevent the creation of mutually isolated communities in which human liberties are seen in incompatible ways and individual persons are subjected to restraints or injustices for which there is no public redress.
The rule of law is thus not the enshrining of priority for the universal/abstract dimension of social existence but the establishing of a space accessible to everyone in which it is possible to affirm and defend a commitment to human dignity as such, independent of membership in any specific human community or tradition, so that when specific communities or traditions are in danger of claiming finality for their own boundaries of practice and understanding, they are reminded that they have to come to terms with the actuality of human diversity - and that the only way of doing this is to acknowledge the category of 'human dignity as such' – a non-negotiable assumption that each agent (with his or her historical and social affiliations) could be expected to have a voice in the shaping of some common project for the well-being and order of a human group. It is not to claim that specific community understandings are 'superseded' by this universal principle, rather to claim that they all need to be undergirded by it. The rule of law is – and this may sound rather counterintuitive – a way of honouring what in the human constitution is not captured by any one form of corporate belonging or any particular history, even though the human constitution never exists without those other determinations. Our need, as Raymond Plant has well expressed it, is for the construction of 'a moral framework which could expand outside the boundaries of particular narratives while, at the same time, respecting the narratives as the cultural contexts in which the language [of common dignity and mutually intelligible commitments to work for certain common moral priorities] is learned and taught' (Politics, Theology and History, 2001, pp.357-8).
I'd add in passing that this is arguably a place where more reflection is needed about the theology of law; if my analysis is right, the sort of foundation I have sketched for a universal principle of legal right requires both a certain valuation of the human as such and a conviction that the human subject is always endowed with some degree of freedom over against any and every actual system of human social life; both of these things are historically rooted in Christian theology, even when they have acquired a life of their own in isolation from that theology. It never does any harm to be reminded that without certain themes consistently and strongly emphasised by the 'Abrahamic' faiths, themes to do with the unconditional possibility for every human subject to live in conscious relation with God and in free and constructive collaboration with others, there is no guarantee that a 'universalist' account of human dignity would ever have seemed plausible or even emerged with clarity. Slave societies and assumptions about innate racial superiority are as widespread a feature as any in human history (and they have persistently infected even Abrahamic communities, which is perhaps why the Enlightenment was a necessary wake-up call to religion...).
But to return to our main theme: I have been arguing that a defence of an unqualified secular legal monopoly in terms of the need for a universalist doctrine of human right or dignity is to misunderstand the circumstances in which that doctrine emerged, and that the essential liberating (and religiously informed) vision it represents is not imperilled by a loosening of the monopolistic framework. At the moment, as I mentioned at the beginning of this lecture, one of the most frequently noted problems in the law in this area is the reluctance of a dominant rights-based philosophy to acknowledge the liberty of conscientious opting-out from collaboration in procedures or practices that are in tension with the demands of particular religious groups: the assumption, in rather misleading shorthand, that if a right or liberty is granted there is a corresponding duty upon every individual to 'activate' this whenever called upon. Earlier on, I proposed that the criterion for recognising and collaborating with communal religious discipline should be connected with whether a communal jurisdiction actively interfered with liberties guaranteed by the wider society in such a way as definitively to block access to the exercise of those liberties; clearly the refusal of a religious believer to act upon the legal recognition of a right is not, given the plural character of society, a denial to anyone inside or outside the community of access to that right. The point has been granted in respect of medical professionals who may be asked to perform or co-operate in performing abortions – a perfectly reasonable example of the law doing what I earlier defined as its job, securing space for those aspects of human motivation and behaviour that cannot be finally determined by any corporate or social system. It is difficult to see quite why the principle cannot be extended in other areas. But it is undeniable that there is pressure from some quarters to insist that conscientious disagreement should always be overruled by a monopolistic understanding of jurisdiction.
I labour the point because what at first seems to be a somewhat narrow point about how Islamic law and Islamic identity should or might be regarded in our legal system in fact opens up a very wide range of current issues, and requires some general thinking about the character of law. It would be a pity if the immense advances in the recognition of human rights led, because of a misconception about legal universality, to a situation where a person was defined primarily as the possessor of a set of abstract liberties and the law's function was accordingly seen as nothing but the securing of those liberties irrespective of the custom and conscience of those groups which concretely compose a plural modern society. Certainly, no-one is likely to suppose that a scheme allowing for supplementary jurisdiction will be simple, and the history of experiments in this direction amply illustrates the problems. But if one approaches it along the lines sketched by Shachar in the monograph quoted earlier, it might be possible to think in terms of what she calls 'transformative accommodation': a scheme in which individuals retain the liberty to choose the jurisdiction under which they will seek to resolve certain carefully specified matters, so that 'power-holders are forced to compete for the loyalty of their shared constituents' (122). This may include aspects of marital law, the regulation of financial transactions and authorised structures of mediation and conflict resolution – the main areas that have been in question where supplementary jurisdictions have been tried, with native American communities in Canada as well as with religious groups like Islamic minority communities in certain contexts. In such schemes, both jurisdictional stakeholders may need to examine the way they operate; a communal/religious nomos, to borrow Shachar's vocabulary, has to think through the risks of alienating its people by inflexible or over-restrictive applications of traditional law, and a universalist Enlightenment system has to weigh the possible consequences of ghettoising and effectively disenfranchising a minority, at real cost to overall social cohesion and creativity. Hence 'transformative accommodation': both jurisdictional parties may be changed by their encounter over time, and we avoid the sterility of mutually exclusive monopolies.
It is uncomfortably true that this introduces into our thinking about law what some would see as a 'market' element, a competition for loyalty as Shachar admits. But if what we want socially is a pattern of relations in which a plurality of divers and overlapping affiliations work for a common good, and in which groups of serious and profound conviction are not systematically faced with the stark alternatives of cultural loyalty or state loyalty, it seems unavoidable. In other settings, I have spoken about the idea of 'interactive pluralism' as a political desideratum; this seems to be one manifestation of such an ideal, comparable to the arrangements that allow for shared responsibility in education: the best argument for faith schools from the point of view of any aspiration towards social harmony and understanding is that they bring communal loyalties into direct relation with the wider society and inevitably lead to mutual questioning and sometimes mutual influence towards change, without compromising the distinctiveness of the essential elements of those communal loyalties.
In conclusion, it seems that if we are to think intelligently about the relations between Islam and British law, we need a fair amount of 'deconstruction' of crude oppositions and mythologies, whether of the nature of sharia or the nature of the Enlightenment. But as I have hinted, I do not believe this can be done without some thinking also about the very nature of law. It is always easy to take refuge in some form of positivism; and what I have called legal universalism, when divorced from a serious theoretical (and, I would argue, religious) underpinning, can turn into a positivism as sterile as any other variety. If the paradoxical idea which I have sketched is true – that universal law and universal right are a way of recognising what is least fathomable and controllable in the human subject – theology still waits for us around the corner of these debates, however hard our culture may try to keep it out. And, as you can imagine, I am not going to complain about that.
The Archbishop of Canterbury, Dr. Rowan Williams gave the foundation lecture at the Royal Courts of Justice on February 7, 2008.
The title of this series of lectures signals the existence of what is very widely felt to be a growing challenge in our society – that is, the presence of communities which, while no less 'law-abiding' than the rest of the population, relate to something other than the British legal system alone. But, as I hope to suggest, the issues that arise around what level of public or legal recognition, if any, might be allowed to the legal provisions of a religious group, are not peculiar to Islam: we might recall that, while the law of the Church of England is the law of the land, its daily operation is in the hands of authorities to whom considerable independence is granted. And beyond the specific issues that arise in relation to the practicalities of recognition or delegation, there are large questions in the background about what we understand by and expect from the law, questions that are more sharply focused than ever in a largely secular social environment. I shall therefore be concentrating on certain issues around Islamic law to begin with, in order to open up some of these wider matters.
Among the manifold anxieties that haunt the discussion of the place of Muslims in British society, one of the strongest, reinforced from time to time by the sensational reporting of opinion polls, is that Muslim communities in this country seek the freedom to live under sharia law. And what most people think they know of sharia is that it is repressive towards women and wedded to archaic and brutal physical punishments; just a few days ago, it was reported that a 'forced marriage' involving a young woman with learning difficulties had been 'sanctioned under sharia law' – the kind of story that, in its assumption that we all 'really' know what is involved in the practice of sharia, powerfully reinforces the image of – at best – a pre-modern system in which human rights have no role. The problem is freely admitted by Muslim scholars. 'In the West', writes Tariq Ramadan in his groundbreaking Western Muslims and the Future of Islam, 'the idea of Sharia calls up all the darkest images of Islam...It has reached the extent that many Muslim intellectuals do not dare even to refer to the concept for fear of frightening people or arousing suspicion of all their work by the mere mention of the word' (p.31). Even when some of the more dramatic fears are set aside, there remains a great deal of uncertainty about what degree of accommodation the law of the land can and should give to minority communities with their own strongly entrenched legal and moral codes. As such, this is not only an issue about Islam but about other faith groups, including Orthodox Judaism; and indeed it spills over into some of the questions which have surfaced sharply in the last twelve months about the right of religious believers in general to opt out of certain legal provisions – as in the problems around Roman Catholic adoption agencies which emerged in relation to the Sexual Orientation Regulations last spring.
This lecture will not attempt a detailed discussion of the nature of sharia, which would be far beyond my competence; my aim is only, as I have said, to tease out some of the broader issues around the rights of religious groups within a secular state, with a few thought about what might be entailed in crafting a just and constructive relationship between Islamic law and the statutory law of the United Kingdom. But it is important to begin by dispelling one or two myths about sharia; so far from being a monolithic system of detailed enactments, sharia designates primarily – to quote Ramadan again – 'the expression of the universal principles of Islam [and] the framework and the thinking that makes for their actualization in human history' (32). Universal principles: as any Muslim commentator will insist, what is in view is the eternal and absolute will of God for the universe and for its human inhabitants in particular; but also something that has to be 'actualized', not a ready-made system. If shar' designates the essence of the revealed Law, sharia is the practice of actualizing and applying it; while certain elements of the sharia are specified fairly exactly in the Qur'an and Sunna and in the hadith recognised as authoritative in this respect, there is no single code that can be identified as 'the' sharia. And when certain states impose what they refer to as sharia or when certain Muslim activists demand its recognition alongside secular jurisdictions, they are usually referring not to a universal and fixed code established once for all but to some particular concretisation of it at the hands of a tradition of jurists. In the hands of contemporary legal traditionalists, this means simply that the application of sharia must be governed by the judgements of representatives of the classical schools of legal interpretation. But there are a good many voices arguing for an extension of the liberty of ijtihad – basically reasoning from first principles rather than simply the collation of traditional judgements (see for example Louis Gardet, 'Un prealable aux questions soulevees par les droits de l'homme: l'actualisation de la Loi religieuse musulmane aujourd'hui', Islamochristiana 9, 1983, 1-12, and Abdullah Saeed, 'Trends in Contemporary Islam: a Preliminary Attempt at a Classification', The Muslim World, 97:3, 2007, 395-404, esp. 401-2).
Thus, in contrast to what is sometimes assumed, we do not simply have a standoff between two rival legal systems when we discuss Islamic and British law. On the one hand, sharia depends for its legitimacy not on any human decision, not on votes or preferences, but on the conviction that it represents the mind of God; on the other, it is to some extent unfinished business so far as codified and precise provisions are concerned. To recognise sharia is to recognise a method of jurisprudence governed by revealed texts rather than a single system. In a discussion based on a paper from Mona Siddiqui at a conference last year at Al Akhawayn University in Morocco, the point was made by one or two Muslim scholars that an excessively narrow understanding sharia as simply codified rules can have the effect of actually undermining the universal claims of the Qur'an.
But while such universal claims are not open for renegotiation, they also assume the voluntary consent or submission of the believer, the free decision to be and to continue a member of the ummaSharia is not, in that sense, intrinsically to do with any demand for Muslim dominance over non-Muslims. Both historically and in the contemporary context, Muslim states have acknowledged that membership of the umma is not coterminous with membership in a particular political society: in modern times, the clearest articulation of this was in the foundation of the Pakistani state under Jinnah; but other examples (Morocco, Jordan) could be cited of societies where there is a concept of citizenship that is not identical with belonging to the umma. Such societies, while not compromising or weakening the possibility of unqualified belief in the authority and universality of sharia, or even the privileged status of Islam in a nation, recognise that there can be no guarantee that the state is religiously homogeneous and that the relationships in which the individual stands and which define him or her are not exclusively with other Muslims. There has therefore to be some concept of common good that is not prescribed solely in terms of revealed Law, however provisional or imperfect such a situation is thought to be. And this implies in turn that the Muslim, even in a predominantly Muslim state, has something of a dual identity, as citizen and as believer within the community of the faithful.
It is true that this account would be hotly contested by some committed Islamic primitivists, by followers of Sayyid Qutb and similar polemicists; but it is fair to say that the great body of serious jurists in the Islamic world would recognise this degree of political plurality as consistent with Muslim integrity. In this sense, while (as I have said) we are not talking about two rival systems on the same level, there is some community of understanding between Islamic social thinking and the categories we might turn to in the non-Muslim world for the understanding of law in the most general context. There is a recognition that our social identities are not constituted by one exclusive set of relations or mode of belonging – even if one of those sets is regarded as relating to the most fundamental and non-negotiable level of reality, as established by a 'covenant' between the divine and the human (as in Jewish and Christian thinking; once again, we are not talking about an exclusively Muslim problem). The danger arises not only when there is an assumption on the religious side that membership of the community (belonging to the umma or the Church or whatever) is the only significant category, so that participation in other kinds of socio-political arrangement is a kind of betrayal. It also occurs when secular government assumes a monopoly in terms of defining public and political identity. There is a position – not at all unfamiliar in contemporary discussion – which says that to be a citizen is essentially and simply to be under the rule of the uniform law of a sovereign state, in such a way that any other relations, commitments or protocols of behaviour belong exclusively to the realm of the private and of individual choice. As I have maintained in several other contexts, this is a very unsatisfactory account of political reality in modern societies; but it is also a problematic basis for thinking of the legal category of citizenship and the nature of human interdependence. Maleiha Malik, following Alasdair MacIntyre, argues in an essay on 'Faith and the State of Jurisprudence' (Faith in Law: Essays in Legal Theory, ed. Peter Oliver, Sionaidh Douglas Scott and Victor Tadros, 2000, pp.129-49) that there is a risk of assuming that 'mainstreram' jurisprudence should routinely and unquestioningly bypass the variety of ways in which actions are as a matter of fact understood by agents in the light of the diverse sorts of communal belonging they are involved in. If that is the assumption, 'the appropriate temporal unit for analysis tends to be the basic action. Instead of concentrating on the history of the individual or the origins of the social practice which provides the context within which the act is performed, conduct tends to be studied as an isolated and one-off act' (139-40). And another essay in the same collection, Anthony Bradney's 'Faced by Faith' (89-105) offers some examples of legal rulings which have disregarded the account offered by religious believers of the motives for their own decisions, on the grounds that the court alone is competent to assess the coherence or even sincerity of their claims. And when courts attempt to do this on the grounds of what is 'generally acceptable' behaviour in a society, they are open, Bradney claims (102-3) to the accusation of undermining the principle of liberal pluralism by denying someone the right to speak in their own voice. The distinguished ecclesiastical lawyer, Chancellor Mark Hill, has also underlined in a number of recent papers the degree of confusion that has bedevilled recent essays in adjudicating disputes with a religious element, stressing the need for better definition of the kind of protection for religious conscience that the law intends (see particularly his essay with Russell Sandberg, 'Is Nothing Sacred? Clashing Symbols in a Secular World', Public Law 3, 2007, pp.488-506).
I have argued recently in a discussion of the moral background to legislation about incitement to religious hatred that any crime involving religious offence has to be thought about in terms of its tendency to create or reinforce a position in which a religious person or group could be gravely disadvantaged in regard to access to speaking in public in their own right: offence needs to be connected to issues of power and status, so that a powerful individual or group making derogatory or defamatory statements about a disadvantaged minority might be thought to be increasing that disadvantage. The point I am making here is similar. If the law of the land takes no account of what might be for certain agents a proper rationale for behaviour – for protest against certain unforeseen professional requirements, for instance, which would compromise religious discipline or belief – it fails in a significant way to communicate with someone involved in the legal process (or indeed to receive their communication), and so, on at least one kind of legal theory (expounded recently, for example, by R.A. Duff), fails in one of its purposes.
The implications are twofold. There is a plain procedural question – and neither Bradney nor Malik goes much beyond this – about how existing courts function and what weight is properly give to the issues we have been discussing. But there is a larger theoretical and practical issue about what it is to live under more than one jurisdiction., which takes us back to the question we began with – the role of sharia (or indeed Orthodox Jewish practice) in relation to the routine jurisdiction of the British courts. In general, when there is a robust affirmation that the law of the land should protect individuals on the grounds of their corporate religious identity and secure their freedom to fulfil religious duties, a number of queries are regularly raised. I want to look at three such difficulties briefly. They relate both to the question of whether there should be a higher level of attention to religious identity and communal rights in the practice of the law, and to the larger issue I mentioned of something like a delegation of certain legal functions to the religious courts of a community; and this latter question, it should be remembered, is relevant not only to Islamic law but also to areas of Orthodox Jewish practice.
The first objection to a higher level of public legal regard being paid to communal identity is that it leaves legal process (including ordinary disciplinary process within organisations) at the mercy of what might be called vexatious appeals to religious scruple. A recent example might be the reported refusal of a Muslim woman employed by Marks and Spencer to handle a book of Bible stories. Or we might think of the rather more serious cluster of questions around forced marriages, where again it is crucial to distinguish between cultural and strictly religious dimensions. While Bradney rightly cautions against the simple dismissal of alleged scruple by judicial authorities who have made no attempt to understand its workings in the construction of people's social identities, it should be clear also that any recognition of the need for such sensitivity must also have a recognised means of deciding the relative seriousness of conscience-related claims, a way of distinguishing purely cultural habits from seriously-rooted matters of faith and discipline, and distinguishing uninformed prejudice from religious prescription. There needs to be access to recognised authority acting for a religious group: there is already, of course, an Islamic Shari'a Council, much in demand for rulings on marital questions in the UK; and if we were to see more latitude given in law to rights and scruples rooted in religious identity, we should need a much enhanced and quite sophisticated version of such a body, with increased resource and a high degree of community recognition, so that 'vexatious' claims could be summarily dealt with. The secular lawyer needs to know where the potential conflict is real, legally and religiously serious, and where it is grounded in either nuisance or ignorance. There can be no blank cheques given to unexamined scruples.
The second issue, a very serious one, is that recognition of 'supplementary jurisdiction' in some areas, especially family law, could have the effect of reinforcing in minority communities some of the most repressive or retrograde elements in them, with particularly serious consequences for the role and liberties of women. The 'forced marriage' question is the one most often referred to here, and it is at the moment undoubtedly a very serious and scandalous one; but precisely because it has to do with custom and culture rather than directly binding enactments by religious authority, I shall refer to another issue. It is argued that the provision for the inheritance of widows under a strict application of sharia has the effect of disadvantaging them in what the majority community might regard as unacceptable ways. A legal (in fact Qur'anic) provision which in its time served very clearly to secure a widow's position at a time when this was practically unknown in the culture becomes, if taken absolutely literally, a generator of relative insecurity in a new context (see, for example, Ann Elizabeth Mayer, Islam and Human Rights. Tradition and Politics, 1999, p.111). The problem here is that recognising the authority of a communal religious court to decide finally and authoritatively about such a question would in effect not merely allow an additional layer of legal routes for resolving conflicts and ordering behaviour but would actually deprive members of the minority community of rights and liberties that they were entitled to enjoy as citizens; and while a legal system might properly admit structures or protocols that embody the diversity of moral reasoning in a plural society by allowing scope for a minority group to administer its affairs according to its own convictions, it can hardly admit or 'license' protocols that effectively take away the rights it acknowledges as generally valid.
To put the question like that is already to see where an answer might lie, though it is not an answer that will remove the possibility of some conflict. If any kind of plural jurisdiction is recognised, it would presumably have to be under the rubric that no 'supplementary' jurisdiction could have the power to deny access to the rights granted to other citizens or to punish its members for claiming those rights. This is in effect to mirror what a minority might themselves be requesting – that the situation should not arise where membership of one group restricted the freedom to live also as a member of an overlapping group, that (in this case) citizenship in a secular society should not necessitate the abandoning of religious discipline, any more than religious discipline should deprive one of access to liberties secured by the law of the land, to the common benefits of secular citizenship – or, better, to recognise that citizenship itself is a complex phenomenon not bound up with any one level of communal belonging but involving them all.
But this does not guarantee an absence of conflict. In the particular case we have mentioned, the inheritance rights of widows, it is already true that some Islamic societies have themselves proved flexible (Malaysia is a case in point). But let us take a more neuralgic matter still: what about the historic Islamic prohibition against apostasy, and the draconian penalties entailed? In a society where freedom of religion is secured by law, it is obviously impossible for any group to claim that conversion to another faith is simply disallowed or to claim the right to inflict punishment on a convert. We touch here on one of the most sensitive areas not only in thinking about legal practice but also in interfaith relations. A significant number of contemporary Islamic jurists and scholars would say that the Qur'anic pronouncements on apostasy which have been regarded as the ground for extreme penalties reflect a situation in which abandoning Islam was equivalent to adopting an active stance of violent hostility to the community, so that extreme penalties could be compared to provisions in other jurisdictions for punishing spies or traitors in wartime; but that this cannot be regarded as bearing on the conditions now existing in the world. Of course such a reading is wholly unacceptable to 'primitivists' in Islam, for whom this would be an example of a rationalising strategy, a style of interpretation (ijtihad) uncontrolled by proper traditional norms. But, to use again the terminology suggested a moment ago, as soon as it is granted that – even in a dominantly Islamic society – citizens have more than one set of defining relationships under the law of the state, it becomes hard to justify enactments that take it for granted that the only mode of contact between these sets of relationships is open enmity; in which case, the appropriateness of extreme penalties for conversion is not obvious even within a fairly strict Muslim frame of reference. Conversely, where the dominant legal culture is non-Islamic, but there is a level of serious recognition of the corporate reality and rights of the umma, there can be no assumption that outside the umma the goal of any other jurisdiction is its destruction. Once again, there has to be a recognition that difference of conviction is not automatically a lethal threat.
As I have said, this is a delicate and complex matter involving what is mostly a fairly muted but nonetheless real debate among Muslim scholars in various contexts. I mention it partly because of its gravity as an issue in interfaith relations and in discussions of human rights and the treatment of minorities, partly to illustrate how the recognition of what I have been calling membership in different but overlapping sets of social relationship (what others have called 'multiple affiliations') can provide a framework for thinking about these neuralgic questions of the status of women and converts. Recognising a supplementary jurisdiction cannot mean recognising a liberty to exert a sort of local monopoly in some areas. The Jewish legal theorist Ayelet Shachar, in a highly original and significant monograph on Multicultural Jurisdictions: Cultural Differences and Women's Rights (2001), explores the risks of any model that ends up 'franchising' a non-state jurisdiction so as to reinforce its most problematic features and further disadvantage its weakest members: 'we must be alert', she writes, 'to the potentially injurious effects of well-meaning external protections upon different categories of group members here – effects which may unwittingly exacerbate preexisting internal power hierarchies' (113). She argues that if we are serious in trying to move away from a model that treats one jurisdiction as having a monopoly of socially defining roles and relations, we do not solve any problems by a purely uncritical endorsement of a communal legal structure which can only be avoided by deciding to leave the community altogether. We need, according to Shachar, to 'work to overcome the ultimatum of "either your culture or your rights"' (114).
So the second objection to an increased legal recognition of communal religious identities can be met if we are prepared to think about the basic ground rules that might organise the relationship between jurisdictions, making sure that we do not collude with unexamined systems that have oppressive effect or allow shared public liberties to be decisively taken away by a supplementary jurisdiction. Once again, there are no blank cheques. I shall return to some of the details of Shachar's positive proposal; but I want to move on to the third objection, which grows precisely out of the complexities of clarifying the relations between jurisdictions. Is it not both theoretically and practically mistaken to qualify our commitment to legal monopoly? So much of our thinking in the modern world, dominated by European assumptions about universal rights, rests, surely, on the basis that the law is the law; that everyone stands before the public tribunal on exactly equal terms, so that recognition of corporate identities or, more seriously, of supplementary jurisdictions is simply incoherent if we want to preserve the great political and social advances of Western legality.
There is a bit of a risk here in the way we sometimes talk about the universal vision of post-Enlightenment politics. The great protest of the Enlightenment was against authority that appealed only to tradition and refused to justify itself by other criteria – by open reasoned argument or by standards of successful provision of goods and liberties for the greatest number. Its claim to override traditional forms of governance and custom by looking towards a universal tribunal was entirely intelligible against the background of despotism and uncritical inherited privilege which prevailed in so much of early modern Europe. The most positive aspect of this moment in our cultural history was its focus on equal levels of accountability for all and equal levels of access for all to legal process. In this respect, it was in fact largely the foregrounding and confirming of what was already encoded in longstanding legal tradition, Roman and mediaeval, which had consistently affirmed the universality and primacy of law (even over the person of the monarch). But this set of considerations alone is not adequate to deal with the realities of complex societies: it is not enough to say that citizenship as an abstract form of equal access and equal accountability is either the basis or the entirety of social identity and personal motivation. Where this has been enforced, it has proved a weak vehicle for the life of a society and has often brought violent injustice in its wake (think of the various attempts to reduce citizenship to rational equality in the France of the 1790's or the China of the 1970's). Societies that are in fact ethnically, culturally and religiously diverse are societies in which identity is formed, as we have noted by different modes and contexts of belonging, 'multiple affiliation'. The danger is in acting as if the authority that managed the abstract level of equal citizenship represented a sovereign order which then allowed other levels to exist. But if the reality of society is plural – as many political theorists have pointed out – this is a damagingly inadequate account of common life, in which certain kinds of affiliation are marginalised or privatised to the extent that what is produced is a ghettoised pattern of social life, in which particular sorts of interest and of reasoning are tolerated as private matters but never granted legitimacy in public as part of a continuing debate about shared goods and priorities.
But this means that we have to think a little harder about the role and rule of law in a plural society of overlapping identities. Perhaps it helps to see the universalist vision of law as guaranteeing equal accountability and access primarily in a negative rather than a positive sense – that is, to see it as a mechanism whereby any human participant in a society is protected against the loss of certain elementary liberties of self-determination and guaranteed the freedom to demand reasons for any actions on the part of others for actions and policies that infringe self-determination. This is a slightly more gentle or tactful way of expressing what some legal theorists will describe as the 'monopoly of legitimate violence' by the law of a state, the absolute restriction of powers of forcible restraint to those who administer statutory law. This is not to reduce society itself primarily to an uneasy alliance of self-determining individuals arguing about the degree to which their freedom is limited by one another and needing forcible restraint in a war of all against all – though that is increasingly the model which a narrowly rights-based culture fosters, producing a manically litigious atmosphere and a conviction of the inadequacy of customary ethical restraints and traditions – of what was once called 'civility'. The picture will not be unfamiliar, and there is a modern legal culture which loves to have it so. But the point of defining legal universalism as a negative thing is that it allows us to assume, as I think we should, that the important springs of moral vision in a society will be in those areas which a systematic abstract universalism regards as 'private' – in religion above all, but also in custom and habit. The role of 'secular' law is not the dissolution of these things in the name of universalism but the monitoring of such affiliations to prevent the creation of mutually isolated communities in which human liberties are seen in incompatible ways and individual persons are subjected to restraints or injustices for which there is no public redress.
The rule of law is thus not the enshrining of priority for the universal/abstract dimension of social existence but the establishing of a space accessible to everyone in which it is possible to affirm and defend a commitment to human dignity as such, independent of membership in any specific human community or tradition, so that when specific communities or traditions are in danger of claiming finality for their own boundaries of practice and understanding, they are reminded that they have to come to terms with the actuality of human diversity - and that the only way of doing this is to acknowledge the category of 'human dignity as such' – a non-negotiable assumption that each agent (with his or her historical and social affiliations) could be expected to have a voice in the shaping of some common project for the well-being and order of a human group. It is not to claim that specific community understandings are 'superseded' by this universal principle, rather to claim that they all need to be undergirded by it. The rule of law is – and this may sound rather counterintuitive – a way of honouring what in the human constitution is not captured by any one form of corporate belonging or any particular history, even though the human constitution never exists without those other determinations. Our need, as Raymond Plant has well expressed it, is for the construction of 'a moral framework which could expand outside the boundaries of particular narratives while, at the same time, respecting the narratives as the cultural contexts in which the language [of common dignity and mutually intelligible commitments to work for certain common moral priorities] is learned and taught' (Politics, Theology and History, 2001, pp.357-8).
I'd add in passing that this is arguably a place where more reflection is needed about the theology of law; if my analysis is right, the sort of foundation I have sketched for a universal principle of legal right requires both a certain valuation of the human as such and a conviction that the human subject is always endowed with some degree of freedom over against any and every actual system of human social life; both of these things are historically rooted in Christian theology, even when they have acquired a life of their own in isolation from that theology. It never does any harm to be reminded that without certain themes consistently and strongly emphasised by the 'Abrahamic' faiths, themes to do with the unconditional possibility for every human subject to live in conscious relation with God and in free and constructive collaboration with others, there is no guarantee that a 'universalist' account of human dignity would ever have seemed plausible or even emerged with clarity. Slave societies and assumptions about innate racial superiority are as widespread a feature as any in human history (and they have persistently infected even Abrahamic communities, which is perhaps why the Enlightenment was a necessary wake-up call to religion...).
But to return to our main theme: I have been arguing that a defence of an unqualified secular legal monopoly in terms of the need for a universalist doctrine of human right or dignity is to misunderstand the circumstances in which that doctrine emerged, and that the essential liberating (and religiously informed) vision it represents is not imperilled by a loosening of the monopolistic framework. At the moment, as I mentioned at the beginning of this lecture, one of the most frequently noted problems in the law in this area is the reluctance of a dominant rights-based philosophy to acknowledge the liberty of conscientious opting-out from collaboration in procedures or practices that are in tension with the demands of particular religious groups: the assumption, in rather misleading shorthand, that if a right or liberty is granted there is a corresponding duty upon every individual to 'activate' this whenever called upon. Earlier on, I proposed that the criterion for recognising and collaborating with communal religious discipline should be connected with whether a communal jurisdiction actively interfered with liberties guaranteed by the wider society in such a way as definitively to block access to the exercise of those liberties; clearly the refusal of a religious believer to act upon the legal recognition of a right is not, given the plural character of society, a denial to anyone inside or outside the community of access to that right. The point has been granted in respect of medical professionals who may be asked to perform or co-operate in performing abortions – a perfectly reasonable example of the law doing what I earlier defined as its job, securing space for those aspects of human motivation and behaviour that cannot be finally determined by any corporate or social system. It is difficult to see quite why the principle cannot be extended in other areas. But it is undeniable that there is pressure from some quarters to insist that conscientious disagreement should always be overruled by a monopolistic understanding of jurisdiction.
I labour the point because what at first seems to be a somewhat narrow point about how Islamic law and Islamic identity should or might be regarded in our legal system in fact opens up a very wide range of current issues, and requires some general thinking about the character of law. It would be a pity if the immense advances in the recognition of human rights led, because of a misconception about legal universality, to a situation where a person was defined primarily as the possessor of a set of abstract liberties and the law's function was accordingly seen as nothing but the securing of those liberties irrespective of the custom and conscience of those groups which concretely compose a plural modern society. Certainly, no-one is likely to suppose that a scheme allowing for supplementary jurisdiction will be simple, and the history of experiments in this direction amply illustrates the problems. But if one approaches it along the lines sketched by Shachar in the monograph quoted earlier, it might be possible to think in terms of what she calls 'transformative accommodation': a scheme in which individuals retain the liberty to choose the jurisdiction under which they will seek to resolve certain carefully specified matters, so that 'power-holders are forced to compete for the loyalty of their shared constituents' (122). This may include aspects of marital law, the regulation of financial transactions and authorised structures of mediation and conflict resolution – the main areas that have been in question where supplementary jurisdictions have been tried, with native American communities in Canada as well as with religious groups like Islamic minority communities in certain contexts. In such schemes, both jurisdictional stakeholders may need to examine the way they operate; a communal/religious nomos, to borrow Shachar's vocabulary, has to think through the risks of alienating its people by inflexible or over-restrictive applications of traditional law, and a universalist Enlightenment system has to weigh the possible consequences of ghettoising and effectively disenfranchising a minority, at real cost to overall social cohesion and creativity. Hence 'transformative accommodation': both jurisdictional parties may be changed by their encounter over time, and we avoid the sterility of mutually exclusive monopolies.
It is uncomfortably true that this introduces into our thinking about law what some would see as a 'market' element, a competition for loyalty as Shachar admits. But if what we want socially is a pattern of relations in which a plurality of divers and overlapping affiliations work for a common good, and in which groups of serious and profound conviction are not systematically faced with the stark alternatives of cultural loyalty or state loyalty, it seems unavoidable. In other settings, I have spoken about the idea of 'interactive pluralism' as a political desideratum; this seems to be one manifestation of such an ideal, comparable to the arrangements that allow for shared responsibility in education: the best argument for faith schools from the point of view of any aspiration towards social harmony and understanding is that they bring communal loyalties into direct relation with the wider society and inevitably lead to mutual questioning and sometimes mutual influence towards change, without compromising the distinctiveness of the essential elements of those communal loyalties.
In conclusion, it seems that if we are to think intelligently about the relations between Islam and British law, we need a fair amount of 'deconstruction' of crude oppositions and mythologies, whether of the nature of sharia or the nature of the Enlightenment. But as I have hinted, I do not believe this can be done without some thinking also about the very nature of law. It is always easy to take refuge in some form of positivism; and what I have called legal universalism, when divorced from a serious theoretical (and, I would argue, religious) underpinning, can turn into a positivism as sterile as any other variety. If the paradoxical idea which I have sketched is true – that universal law and universal right are a way of recognising what is least fathomable and controllable in the human subject – theology still waits for us around the corner of these debates, however hard our culture may try to keep it out. And, as you can imagine, I am not going to complain about that.
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Kontroversi Seputar H.M. Soeharto
Sekitar 20 tahun, sejak lahir sampai saya menyelesaikan S-1, saya hidup dibawah kepimpinan nasional Pak Harto. Karena waktu kecil dan SD Islam, saya hobby melukis, saya pernah melukis wajah pak Harto (mirip seperti gambar disamping). Seperti juga beberapa tokoh-tokoh pahlawan bangsa lainnya. Saya juga pernah mendapat beasiswa Supersemar waktu S-1 melalui kompetisi. Sebelum krisis ekonomi Asia 1997, saya ingat, mayoritas bangsa Indonesia bangga dengan presidennya, termasuk populernya gelar "bapak pembangunan". Memang naiknya Pak Harto jadi presiden RI, peristiwa G/30/S PKI, Papua, Timur Timur, Aceh, dan bisnis konglomerasinya, KKN, buruknya birokrasi, dan sebagainya, meninggalkan sejarah negeri yang kelam. Waktu mahasiswa S-1, saya termasuk sering mengeritik KKN, golkarisasi kampus, dan kebijakan-kebijakan homogenisasi makna Pancasila lewat P4. Saya ingat waktu di gedung DPR/MPR, sebagai mahasiswa, saya mendambakan lengsernya Pak Harto. Setelah lengsernya tahun 1998, semua orang, termasuk saya, tidak ingin kembali ke era otoritarian Orde Baru itu. Orde Baru menjadi lama, usang, dan momok. Tapi sayangnya, status hukum Pak Harto sengaja atau tak berdaya dibuat mengambang oleh para penerusnya. Status 'mengantung' bisa baik dan buruk buat Pak Harto. Secara hukum positif, karena belum diadili, Pak Harto belum dibuktikan bersalah. Adalah waktu yang membuat status hukum Pak Harto tidak menentu. Lebih-lebih lagi, kondisi tuanya dan sakitnya, membuat banyak orang, termasuk mereka yang sangat kritikal sekalipun, tidak tega untuk tidak memaafkannya, meskipun banyak yang tetap menuntutnya dan tidak memaafkannya, baik atas nama orang lain, atau atas nama keluarga dan kenalan yang mati atau sengsara akibat kebijakan dan perbuatannya sebagai orang nomor satu di RI. Saya pun mengalami kesulitan untuk sepenuh hati memaafkan atau memaklumi situasi bangsa ini yang sebagiannya diciptakan Pak Harto dan kroni-kroninya di masa Orde Baru. Alas, the fall of Soeharto was not a happy ending; his too-long period of ruling was not a success story for most Indonesians. It remains to be seen how objective or subjective history will be in recording and reconstructing Soeharto's life. Lengsernya Pak Harto tidak seperti selesainya masa jabatan Bill Clinton, George Bush, James Carter, dan presiden-presiden AS lain.
Terlepas dari kontroversi itu, dan saya yakin kontroversi itu tidak akan berakhir, dan akan tetap dicatat dalam sejarah bangsa ini, saya ingin menekankan bahwa tidak akan ada Negara Republik Indonesia tanpa keberadaan pemimpinnya, dan secara de facto dan de jure pemimpin itu adalah Pak Harto. Adanya pemimpin lebih baik daripada tidakadanya, apalagi di negeri yang sungguh majemuk dan besar ini.
Sebagai sesama Muslim, saya ingin mengatakan, Innalillahi wainna ilaihi rajiun. Kita milik Allah dan kepada-Nya kita kembali. Saya ingin termasuk bagian bangsa ini yang turut berduka cita atas wafatnya Pak Harto, dan semoga keluarga dan kerabat yang ditinggalkan tabah menghadapinya. Saya tidak ingin menjadi anak negeri yang terus mengalami dilema moral sehingga lupa dan enggan menghargai jasa-jasa baik salah satu pemimpin politiknya.
Selamat jalan, Pak Harto. Dan semoga saya dan kawan-kawan mau belajar dari sejarah hidup Pak Harto yang memang tidak selamanya putih. Keadilan yang sejati mungkin terbukti nanti, bukan di dunia ini. Dan karena Pak Harto sudah tiada di dunia ini, siapapun tidak bisa menggantikan fungsi Tuhan Yang Maha Adil.
Riverside, AS, 27 January 2008/Indonesia, 28 Januari 2008.
Friday, January 25, 2008
Understanding A Complex Reality on Iraq, Muslims, and the West
Dear readers,
Personally, my views would depend on what Bush and American peoples view on things and act in particular time and place. The issues you mentioned are complex, not simple, and thus should be explained from various perspectives. I like to see things from different sides, rather than only one side. I can see why and how the lobbists and Bush administration have had an economic, political, and religious interest in the Middle East. What I see is that Bush and his advisers' decision to invade Iraq was conditioned by various factors: first by their ignorance of the historical and contemporary realities of Iraqis and the Middle East; second, by their political-economic interest in the region. I don't see that Bush intentionally attempted to mislead Americans about Iraq, but his simple naivite and ignorance about facts became the major factors of the invasion and war and subsequent problems arising from such invasion. It is true that Iraqis had been divisive even before American invasion, but it is also true that American presence has proved to make things worse rather than better than the previous times. It is true that Saddam was an authoritarian leader, killing those who according to him were dangerous for his dominance and security, but it is also true that American troops have killed even more civilians and environment in Iraq, not simply combatants. The Iraqi combatans and the so-called terrorists in Iraq would not exist without the presence of American soldiers. In their diverse views, their struggle were not "terrorism"; theirs was anti-colonial. Bush' war on terror has failed in the large part, because it has created more problems than solved them. Bush's leadership was and is not a succesful in Iraq and the Muslim World at large, because of his strong yet indifferent decision to wage the war when other countries disagreed. Now that the war has started and Saddam has gone, and the Iraqis had been even more divisive and violent, the way out becomes difficult. People find it a dillemma: whether to leave Iraq in this current situation, to stay for a while until the Iraqis are relatively stable, or to stay forever without limit of time. This current dilemma is caused by the very nature of war: no one can predict its consequences. The war in Iraq has been a waste of lives, money, energy, and everything. This is when violent way of solving differences becomes the mindset of military leaders. There should be a non-violent way of solving problems: diplomacy, dialogue, etc. The media like CNN, Fox, al-Jazirah, all try to pursue their interests within "political correctness". We don't have the news about fatalities of Iraqi civilians and destruction of buildings of mosques, temples, churches, synagoues in Iraq at CCN, Fox, etc. Nationalistic chauvinism influences media in one way or another. It is difficult to find a balanced picture of the war and conflict in Iraq. Most Indonesians disapprove the Bush' way in handling Iraq from the start until now, but they know that not all Americans are like Bush and his allies. The so-called anti-Americanism is only strong among some Indonesian fundamentalists, but not the majority of Indonesians; as they love freedom, science and technology, democracy that have developed in the U.S. There are many cooperations and dialogues among Indonesians and Americans, bridging the widening perception gaps.
I often talk American culture and politics in the Middle East. I have been seen sometimes as the Voice of America, but sometimes as the voice of moderation, depending on whom I talk to. The fundamentalists see me and my writings as pro-Western, liberal, etc, because I see and appreciate American ways of life such as democracy, human rights, and especially education and technology. When I talk about Arab-Israeli conflict, many wanted me to defend Palestinian cause, and blame Israel, but I have tried to see the issue as complex and not black and white. Most in Indonesia see the Middle East issue as a religious issue, but I have tried to convince them that it is not simply religious, but political, economic, cultural, etc. Of course not many people are interested to see things as complex; most people tend to think in simple ways, not so much different from what happens when many people in the U.S. see one-sidedly about Islam and Muslims. In Indonesia, leaders such as Gus Dur are still heard among modern, liberal Muslim and non-Muslims in Indonesia, but many people don't listen to him. Within NU, there is diversity too. With regard to Israel, informal relationship between Indonesians and Israelis has been going on, although there is not yet a formal recognition of the state until the birth of the state of Palestine. Indonesian government see the issue as the occupier-occupied issue, although religious sentiment is still strong. I personally believe that coexistence is the realistic solution, despite disagreement within each party. No solution in the Middle East please everyone, but the best solution in my view is a peaceful non-violent solution.
Peace,
M.Ali
January 24, 2008
Personally, my views would depend on what Bush and American peoples view on things and act in particular time and place. The issues you mentioned are complex, not simple, and thus should be explained from various perspectives. I like to see things from different sides, rather than only one side. I can see why and how the lobbists and Bush administration have had an economic, political, and religious interest in the Middle East. What I see is that Bush and his advisers' decision to invade Iraq was conditioned by various factors: first by their ignorance of the historical and contemporary realities of Iraqis and the Middle East; second, by their political-economic interest in the region. I don't see that Bush intentionally attempted to mislead Americans about Iraq, but his simple naivite and ignorance about facts became the major factors of the invasion and war and subsequent problems arising from such invasion. It is true that Iraqis had been divisive even before American invasion, but it is also true that American presence has proved to make things worse rather than better than the previous times. It is true that Saddam was an authoritarian leader, killing those who according to him were dangerous for his dominance and security, but it is also true that American troops have killed even more civilians and environment in Iraq, not simply combatants. The Iraqi combatans and the so-called terrorists in Iraq would not exist without the presence of American soldiers. In their diverse views, their struggle were not "terrorism"; theirs was anti-colonial. Bush' war on terror has failed in the large part, because it has created more problems than solved them. Bush's leadership was and is not a succesful in Iraq and the Muslim World at large, because of his strong yet indifferent decision to wage the war when other countries disagreed. Now that the war has started and Saddam has gone, and the Iraqis had been even more divisive and violent, the way out becomes difficult. People find it a dillemma: whether to leave Iraq in this current situation, to stay for a while until the Iraqis are relatively stable, or to stay forever without limit of time. This current dilemma is caused by the very nature of war: no one can predict its consequences. The war in Iraq has been a waste of lives, money, energy, and everything. This is when violent way of solving differences becomes the mindset of military leaders. There should be a non-violent way of solving problems: diplomacy, dialogue, etc. The media like CNN, Fox, al-Jazirah, all try to pursue their interests within "political correctness". We don't have the news about fatalities of Iraqi civilians and destruction of buildings of mosques, temples, churches, synagoues in Iraq at CCN, Fox, etc. Nationalistic chauvinism influences media in one way or another. It is difficult to find a balanced picture of the war and conflict in Iraq. Most Indonesians disapprove the Bush' way in handling Iraq from the start until now, but they know that not all Americans are like Bush and his allies. The so-called anti-Americanism is only strong among some Indonesian fundamentalists, but not the majority of Indonesians; as they love freedom, science and technology, democracy that have developed in the U.S. There are many cooperations and dialogues among Indonesians and Americans, bridging the widening perception gaps.
I often talk American culture and politics in the Middle East. I have been seen sometimes as the Voice of America, but sometimes as the voice of moderation, depending on whom I talk to. The fundamentalists see me and my writings as pro-Western, liberal, etc, because I see and appreciate American ways of life such as democracy, human rights, and especially education and technology. When I talk about Arab-Israeli conflict, many wanted me to defend Palestinian cause, and blame Israel, but I have tried to see the issue as complex and not black and white. Most in Indonesia see the Middle East issue as a religious issue, but I have tried to convince them that it is not simply religious, but political, economic, cultural, etc. Of course not many people are interested to see things as complex; most people tend to think in simple ways, not so much different from what happens when many people in the U.S. see one-sidedly about Islam and Muslims. In Indonesia, leaders such as Gus Dur are still heard among modern, liberal Muslim and non-Muslims in Indonesia, but many people don't listen to him. Within NU, there is diversity too. With regard to Israel, informal relationship between Indonesians and Israelis has been going on, although there is not yet a formal recognition of the state until the birth of the state of Palestine. Indonesian government see the issue as the occupier-occupied issue, although religious sentiment is still strong. I personally believe that coexistence is the realistic solution, despite disagreement within each party. No solution in the Middle East please everyone, but the best solution in my view is a peaceful non-violent solution.
Peace,
M.Ali
January 24, 2008
Monday, December 31, 2007
Leaving 2007, Welcoming 2008
Approaching 2008, I am busy working on my syllabus design for the next year (Asian Religions, Islam in Southeast Asia, and Reading the Qur'an). I am working on my book proposal to submit to US publishers, a Toyota grant for my dissertation translation and publication in Indonesia, on research proposals for 2008, on my programs as a faculty in residence, for journal articles, on op-ed opinions invited, on interviews, and not least on being a best company for my wife visiting me here in Riverside.
All the best to my future goals and programs for 2008; and all the best to you too the readers,
Glen Mor, December 31, 2007
All the best to my future goals and programs for 2008; and all the best to you too the readers,
Glen Mor, December 31, 2007
Friday, November 23, 2007
Ummy (My Mother)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vu6Yfq5fOK4&feature=related
I love my mother. I miss her so much. I am nothing without her. I learn so much from her. I love my mother always as she always does. I am very lucky to have her. She's now busy teaching sincerely without expecting any income and is at the same time doing all the household at home, but she keeps praying for me and her children. I should write more about my mother and about how she has influenced my life.
Humbly from your son,
MA
I love my mother. I miss her so much. I am nothing without her. I learn so much from her. I love my mother always as she always does. I am very lucky to have her. She's now busy teaching sincerely without expecting any income and is at the same time doing all the household at home, but she keeps praying for me and her children. I should write more about my mother and about how she has influenced my life.
Humbly from your son,
MA
Zaujati (My Wife)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HUEcOK5yplY
I love my wife so much. She is my other half. Everything becomes always beautiful with her.
I love my wife so much. She is my other half. Everything becomes always beautiful with her.
Thursday, November 08, 2007
RASUL KEREN DARI BETAWI
TEMPO Edisi. 37/XXXVI/05 - 11 November 2007
Laporan Utama
Rasul Keren dari Betawi
Kehidupan beragama di Indonesia tampaknya tak pernah sepi dari amuk massa. Setelah gerakan Ahmadiyah diserang tahun lalu, kini massa merusak dan membakar sebagian rumah pendiri aliran Al-Qiyadah al-Islamiyah. Pengikut Ahmad Mushaddeq yang mengaku sebagai rasul dari Betawi itu kini terus diburu. Majelis Ulama Indonesia menyatakan aliran ini sesat. Benarkah keyakinan bisa dihakimi? Mengapa aliran-aliran baru yang belakangan bermunculan itu justru meraup pengikut dari kalangan muda?
IA tampak letih dan kusut. Satu-satunya yang tak berbeda, dan ini membuat polisi geleng kepala, ia tak pernah berhenti menjelaskan aliran yang diproklamasikannya sejak 2001 itu. ”Ia kelihatan pintar. Kalau ditanya, nyerocos panjang-lebar,” kata Kepala Kesatuan Keamanan Negara Polda Metro Jakarta, AKBP Tornagogo Sihombing.
Dialah Ahmad Mushaddeq alias Abdul Salam, yang mengaku sebagai rasul baru. Ia, bersama enam pengikutnya, memilih mendatangi Markas Kepolisian Daerah Metro Jakarta ketimbang diburu polisi atau digelandang massa. Dua tangannya pun diborgol ke belakang pada Rabu dua pekan lalu.
Sang ”rasul” yang menggegerkan itu akhirnya menyerah ke polisi. Tak tampak lagi penampilannya yang parlente dengan jas dan dasi seperti dalam pertemuan akbar 267 jemaah Al-Qiyadah al-Islamiyah di lantai 11 Graha BIP, Jalan Gatot Subroto, Jakarta Selatan, sepekan sebelumnya.
Inilah drama mutakhir Al-Qiyadah setelah dinyatakan sebagai aliran sesat oleh Majelis Ulama Indonesia. Tiga pengikutnya di Bantul, Daerah Istimewa Yogyakarta, digropyok massa pada September lalu. Sebulan berikutnya, giliran jemaah di Padang digerebek warga.
Nasib Mushaddeq, 63 tahun, ini mirip yang dialami Lia Aminudin, pendiri Salamullah atau Komunitas Eden. Persis pula dengan nasib Yusman Roy, yang ditangkap setelah menggagas salat dalam dua bahasa—Arab dan Indonesia—melalui jemaah Ngaji Lelaku di Malang, Jawa Timur. Rumah Lia diobrak-abrik massa. Ia harus mendekam di penjara satu setengah tahun.
Sedangkan Yusman Roy, bekas petinju itu, juga dihukum penjara dua tahun, Agustus lalu. Namun ia tak terbukti melakukan ”penodaan agama” sebagaimana dakwaan primer jaksa. Tapi ia tetap saja divonis merujuk dakwaan subsider, yakni menyiarkan dan melakukan penghinaan terhadap segolongan penduduk Indonesia. Yusman sampai bikin Bupati Malang meneken surat keputusan agar ajarannya dihentikan.
Nasib Mushaddeq idem ditto. Sebagian bangunan Vila Lakapura miliknya di kawasan Gunung Bunder, Bogor, Jawa Barat, sudah dibakar oleh kelompok yang menamakan diri Majelis Ulama Islam, Selasa malam pekan lalu.
Aksi ”rusak dan bakar” itu adalah jilid kesekian dalam praktek kekerasan kehidupan beragama di Indonesia. Perusakan pertama yang tercatat terjadi pada 1974, ketika Ali Taetang Laikabu menahbiskan diri sebagai nabi baru di Sulawesi Selatan. Yang paling ramai dan mengundang perhatian publik yang luas tentu saja adalah perusakan aset Ahmadiyah di berbagai kota tahun lalu.
Al-Qiyadah juga melengkapi daftar 250 kepercayaan sesat yang dikeluarkan oleh Pengawas Aliran Kepercayaan Masyarakat (Pakem) dari 1980 hingga 2006. Pakem beranggotakan Departemen Dalam Negeri, Departemen Agama, dan Kejaksaan Agung. MUI sendiri telah mengeluarkan 86 fatwa sejak berdiri pada 1975. Sepuluh dari fatwa itu menyangkut ajaran sesat (lihat infografik).
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Kisah ”rasul Gunung Bunder” itu bermula dari Vila Lakapura yang terletak sekitar 20 kilometer dari Bogor ke arah Sukabumi tersebut. Mushaddeq bertapa selama 40 hari 40 malam di salah satu sudut vila yang ia sebut gua. Pada malam ke-37, tepatnya pada 23 Juli tahun lalu, ia mengaku mendapat perintah Tuhan untuk menyatakan sebagai rasul kepada seluruh umat manusia. Ia menyebut dirinya Almasih Almaw’ud, almasih yang dijanjikan. ”Tugas saya memurnikan ajaran Musa, Isa, dan Muhammad,” ucapnya.
Sejak ”turun wahyu” itu, Mushaddeq pun mengembangkan ajarannya. Dakwah yang semula hanya terbatas pada lingkungan terdekat kini bergerak ke luar. Ia mengumpulkan 12 sahabat, mirip 12 murid Isa, dan masing-masing diminta mencari 12 pengikut. Dengan sistem jaringan ala multilevel marketing ini, pengikutnya berbiak cepat.
Pemimpin Al-Qiyadah ini juga muncul di televisi dan mengundang wartawan untuk meliput kegiatan binayah roin atau pembinaan calon pemimpin, yang sebelumnya tertutup. Mushaddeq rajin berkeliling dari satu kota ke kota lain. Pagi hari ada di Jakarta, sorenya ia sudah terbang ke Surabaya. Ia punya pengikut di Jakarta, Bandung, Yogyakarta, Surabaya, Padang, Makassar, bahkan hingga pelosok seperti Tabalong, Kalimantan Selatan. Di Jakarta saja, kata Kepala Polda Metro Irjen Polisi Adang Firman, ada 8.000-an pengikut. Sebagian besar orang muda.
Jika tak sedang tausiyah ke luar kota, pensiunan pegawai Dinas Olahraga DKI Jakarta ini lebih memilih berdiam di rumahnya yang luas di bilangan Tanah Baru, Depok. Ia bertanam singkong atau sayur-sayuran lain di tanahnya yang seluas 2.300 meter persegi. Di lain waktu, kesenangannya adalah memperbaiki jip bekas. Salah satu jip dibelinya sepuluh tahun lalu di Madura, Jawa Timur. Awalnya hanya bangkai yang kemudian ia sulap menjadi mobil hijau khas tentara. Satu lagi berwarna oranye. ”Itu mobilnya Rasulullah,” kata Muthmainah, istri Mushaddeq.
Bila sedang berceramah, para pengikutnya tampak terbuai ucapan Mushaddeq yang nyerocos abis. Mereka manggut-manggut atau tertawa terbahak, meski tak genah benar logika berpikirnya. Dalam pertemuan akbar di BIP, misalnya, Mushaddeq menyebut, setelah Muhammad, rasul yang tampil di muka bumi bukan dari keturunan Bani Israel, Yahudi, atau Arab, tapi dari suku yang sama sekali tak terduga: Betawi. ”Keren kan orang Betawi jadi rasul?” ucapnya, yang disambut gelak tawa jemaahnya.
Coba dengar khotbahnya ini. Keberadaan suku Betawi yang menghuni tanah Jakarta, katanya, sudah menjadi strategi Allah. Sebagai ibu kota negara RI, Jakarta atau tanah Betawi menjadi tempat berkumpulnya suku-suku lain. Ia sendiri lahir di kampung Betawi di kawasan Kemang. ”Jadi, cocok dengan lagunya Rhoma Irama yang berjudul 135 Juta Penduduk Indonesia,” ujarnya ngakak. Entah apa hubungan sang raja dangdut itu dengan strategi Tuhan.
Kendati logika ucapannya terpeleset sana-sini, toh pengikutnya pasrah bongkokan pada sang rasul. Bonaji, 38 tahun, warga Balaraja, Banten, malah menyebut pengajaran Mushaddeq masuk akal. ”Setelah menjadi jemaah Qiyadah, saya tahu makna isi Al-Quran melalui penjelasan Rasul yang sangat masuk akal,” kata karyawan perusahaan kontraktor PT Pembangunan Perumahan itu.
Pria asal Jember, Jawa Timur, ini pun berani meninggalkan masjid dan salat lima waktu, setelah sang Rasul menjelaskan bahwa periode kenabiannya saat ini masih dalam periode Mekah atau Makkiyah, sama seperti periode Muhammad sebelum mendapat perintah menjalankan salat. Kewajiban menjalankan rukun Islam baru dilaksanakan setelah mendapat perintah untuk hijrah. Ini masuk akal bagi Bonaji.
Argumen periode Makkiyah ini segera ditampik Ketua MUI Ma’ruf Amin. ”Kalau orang salat dikejar-kejar, itu mungkin bisa disamakan dengan periode Mekah. Tapi di Indonesia kan orang salat tidak dihalangi,” katanya.
Al-Qiyadah tak mewajibkan pengikutnya melaksanakan rukun Islam seperti salat, zakat, puasa, dan berhaji. Jemaah hanya diwajibkan salat malam dan membaca Al-Quran. Syahadat aliran ini juga lain, yaitu dengan menyebut Almasih Almaw’ud sebagai rasul Allah.
Jemaah pun tak menampakkan penampilan tertentu seperti memelihara jenggot, celana cingkrang, atau kerudung untuk wanita. Mereka menganggap semua yang di luar Al-Qiyadah adalah musyrik, menyekutukan Tuhan. Itu pula sebabnya, mereka tak mau menyantap daging hasil sembelihan orang di luar alirannya.
Lalu apanya yang sesat? Menurut Ma’ruf Amin, minimal ada tiga hal yang membuat aliran ini dipandang sesat, yaitu menciptakan syahadat baru, ada rasul baru, dan menyatakan salat serta rukun Islam lain tak wajib. ”Itu sudah jelas bertentangan dengan Al-Quran dan Hadis,” katanya.
Tak cuma MUI dan Front Pembela Islam yang tersundut. NU dan Muhammadiyah pun mengecap Al-Qiyadah sebagai aliran sesat. ”Jika ingin membuat ajaran baru, jangan mengaitkan dengan agama yang sudah mempunyai tatanan yang baku. Akibatnya, pengikut agama yang sudah baku akan bereaksi dan berkeberatan terhadap ajaran itu,” kata Din Syamsuddin, Ketua Umum Muhammadiyah.
Reaksi ini dikritik oleh Ketua Jaringan Islam Liberal (JIL) Ulil Abshar Abdalla. ”NU dan Muhammadiyah gagal menerapkan prinsip toleransi, sebagaimana dikehendaki konstitusi kita,” katanya. Dalam prinsip kebebasan beragama, katanya, seseorang tak bisa dipaksa memeluk suatu keyakinan dan agama yang tak sesuai dengan kata hati.
Berbeda dengan JIL, Komisi Nasional Hak Asasi Manusia mendukung langkah polisi menangkap pemimpin Al-Qiyadah. Alasannya, pemerintah punya hak mengintervensi penyebaran ajaran yang dinilai telah menodai suatu agama. Namun, kata Ketua Komnas HAM Ifdhal Kasim, pemerintah tak bisa mengintervensi akidah atau keyakinannya.
Hanya, vonis sesat dari MUI dan sejumlah ormas Islam itu tak urung telah menggerakkan masyarakat di beberapa daerah melakukan aksi ”pembersihan”. Dedi Priyadi, pemimpin Al-Qiyadah di Padang, dan keluarganya, misalnya, kini harus hidup nomaden sejak rumahnya di daerah Simpang Haru, Padang, digerebek warga pada awal Oktober lalu. Mereka hidup menumpang di rumah saudara dan kenalan.
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Fenomena rasul atau nabi baru itu sebenarnya bukanlah barang baru. Alkisah, sejak zaman Muhammad telah ada yang mengaku nabi baru. Musailamah al-Kadzab adalah yang pertama terang-terangan mendeklarasikan sebagai nabi baru. Ia berkuasa di daerah Yamamah, kini salah satu distrik di Arab Saudi. Ia menikahi seorang wanita yang juga mengaku nabi.
Musailamah dikenal berani. Ia mengirim surat kepada Muhammad berisi ajakan untuk membagi kekuasaan bumi menjadi dua. Satu untuk Muhammad dan satunya untuk nabi baru: dia. Muhammad tak mengirim pasukan untuk menyerang Musailamah. Ia memilih mengungkapkan kedustaan Musailamah. Baru pada zaman khalifah Abu Bakar pasukan dikirim untuk memerangi Musailamah.
Nabi yang lain muncul di Pakistan. Mirza Ghulam Ahmad mendirikan Ahmadiyah pada 1889 dan mengaku sebagai nabi. Ahmadiyah masuk ke Indonesia sejak 1924. Pada masa awal perkembangan Islam di Jawa, muncul ajaran Manunggaling Kawula Gusti, yang diperkenalkan Syekh Siti Jenar pada abad ke-13. Di sini Syekh Siti Jenar tak bicara tentang kenabian, tapi lebih tinggi lagi, yaitu tentang konsep wahdatul wujud, menyatunya Tuhan ke dalam diri.
Nabi made in Indonesia asli baru ramai dibicarakan pada awal Orde Baru. Ali Taetang Laikabu adalah ”nabi Makassar” yang mengawali masa ini. Namun ajaran Ali bersifat lokal dan sekarang sudah tak terdengar. Pada 1986, rasul lain muncul. Kali ini gemanya lebih luas, lantaran dilontarkan oleh Teguh Esha, penulis novel pop Ali Topan Anak Jalanan.
Teguh antara lain mendustakan Hadis, mengubah jumlah rakaat salat dari 17 menjadi 19, dan cukup membaca syahadat dengan ”Tidak ada sesembahan selain Allah”. Salat model Teguh memakai bahasa Indonesia dan jurus-jurus silat dengan tangan, kaki, dan terkadang pantat, bergoyang-goyang (Tempo, 6 Desember 1986).
Teguh kini terbaring lemah di Rumah Sakit Fatmawati karena diabetes. Ia tak mengira puluhan seniman, yang notabene bukan pengikut kerasulannya, justru yang datang menjenguknya dan memindahkan kamarnya dari kelas III ke kelas II. Ia sempat menjadi pasien layanan cuma-cuma Dompet Dhuafa. ”Saya selama ini soliter dan tak menduga kedatangan mereka,” ucapnya. Teguh kini enggan mengingat masa lalu kenabiannya yang suram itu.
Setelah ”Ali Topan Rasul Jalanan”, sejumlah ajaran datang dan pergi. Belakangan, peminat ajaran baru itu justru datang dari anak muda. Puluhan anak muda yang berumur kurang dari 20 tahun di Bandung, misalnya, menjadi pengikut Al-Quran Suci. Sembilan orang di antaranya kini raib dan polisi kelimpungan mencari. Dua mahasiswi yang hilang sempat mengirim surat kepada orang tua dan menyatakan diri baik-baik saja.
Tim Investigasi Aliran Sesat (TIAS) bentukan Forum Ulama Umat Indonesia menemukan catatan ajaran Al-Quran Suci. Di antaranya catatan mengenai doktrin ruhuiyah (aturan), mulqiyah (wilayah/tempat) , uluhiyah (umat atau manusia). Struktur kehidupan digambarkan dengan analogi sebatang pohon yang terdiri dari akar, batang, dan buahnya. Menurut Koordinator TIAS Hedi Muhammad, struktur doktrin aliran yang diduga beroperasi di Bandung, Jakarta, dan Yogyakarta ini mirip dengan KW IX, salah satu sempalan Negara Islam Indonesia (NII). Mereka menerapkan proses rekrutmen tertutup.
Proses rekrutmen tertutup dan misteri NII itu telah mencemaskan Ahmad Buchori Saleh. Pengusaha Jakarta Selatan ini kini lebih memilih mengurung anaknya, Fafa, untuk melepaskannya dari jeratan NII. Mahasiswa tahun pertama Universitas Bina Nusantara, Jakarta, itu ketahuan mengikuti NII setelah minggat dari rumah karena menjual sepeda. Bukan hanya sepeda, uang tabungan Rp 20 juta juga ikut lenyap karena disetorkan ke NII.
Mantan Rektor Universitas Islam Negeri Jakarta Azyumardi Azra menyatakan, lakunya ajaran sesat di kalangan anak muda itu lantaran masyarakat kini mengalami kondisi yang serba tidak menentu. Anak-anak muda tersebut berusaha mencari seorang pemimpin yang dapat dipercaya dan dapat menerima krisis identitas mereka. ”Dalam sosiologi keagamaan ada yang disebut harapan eskatologis. Dalam harapan ini anak muda percaya bahwa pemimpin mereka adalah juru penyelamat, Imam Mahdi, atau apa pun yang akan menyelamatkan mereka,” ujarnya.
Harapan itu terbit karena pemahaman agama mereka belum mempunyai dasar yang kuat. Akibatnya, kata Azyumardi, mereka mengalami misleading dalam pencarian. Faktor berikutnya yang turut berperan: adanya kecenderungan pembiaran umat oleh para pemuka agama sehingga dimanfaatkan penyebar aliran baru. Di sinilah kepiawaian menjual ajaran itu muncul. Mereka dengan intens mendatangi dan menawarkan bimbingan.
Simak pengakuan Budi Tamtomo, pemimpin Al-Qiyadah Yogyakarta. Ia semula jauh dari agama dan menjalani mo limo—lima M (madon atau bermain perempuan, minum, main, madat, maling). Al-Qiyadah terus mendekatinya. Alhasil, dalam tiga bulan, ia pun takluk dan berhasil meninggalkan kebiasaan lamanya. Ia bahkan kini benar-benar jauh dari perempuan, bahkan rela berpisah dari istri yang tak mau mengikuti ajaran yang ia anut.
Aliran ini juga menggelar ritual mohon pengampunan. Kepada setiap pengikut ditawarkan bisa langsung berhadapan dengan rasul untuk pengakuan dosa. Bertemu rasul dan ada kepastian dosa diampuni ini telah membuat hati umatnya benar-benar plong.
Dengan sejumlah nilai jual itu—boleh tidak salat, puasa, zakat, haji, dan diampuni langsung oleh rasul—Al-Qiyadah meraup ribuan pendukung. Apakah dengan demikian mereka layak dihakimi? Rektor Universitas Negeri Syarif Hidayatullah Jakarta, Komaruddin Hidayat, mengkritik MUI yang terlalu peka terhadap urusan akidah. Padahal, jelas keyakinan adalah masalah privat. ”Sedangkan kalau ada sabotase rel kereta api, mereka diam saja,” tulisnya melalui pesan pendek.
Komaruddin pun menawarkan cara gampang menghadapi pelbagai aliran yang aneh-aneh itu. ”Diketawain saja, entar kan bubar sendiri,” ucapnya. Seseorang di Markas Polda Metro juga punya cara jitu mengetahui apakah Mushaddeq itu seorang rasul. ”Gampang, konfirmasikan saja kepada Lia Aminudin yang mengaku sebagai Jibril, apakah ia telah menurunkan wahyu kepada Mushaddeq,” ujarnya seraya tertawa. Benar juga. Silakan, Anda boleh terpikat atau malah terbahak-bahak… .
Yos Rizal, Yudono, Elik Susanto, Irfan Budiman, Widi Nugroho, Retno Sari, Ahmad Fikri (Bandung), Febrianti (Padang), Heru C.N. (Yogyakarta) , Kukuh S. Wibowo (Surabaya)
Kenapa Sesat
Berdiri sejak 1975, Majelis Ulama Indonesia telah mengeluarkan lebih dari 86 fatwa. Sepuluh dari fatwa itu menyangkut aliran yang dinilai sesat. Selain MUI pusat, majelis ulama di daerah juga bisa mengeluarkan fatwa sesat.
Kriteria dasar sesat menurut MUI adalah bila aliran itu bertentangan dengan Al-Quran dan tidak mempercayai hadis Nabi Muhammad sebagai sumber hukum syariat. Berikut karakter sejumlah aliran yang telah dan belum mendapat cap fatwa MUI.
Al-Qiyadah al-IslamiyahPemimpin: Ahmad MushaddeqAktif: Sejak 2001Fatwa sesat MUI: 2007
Tidak menjalankan rukun Islam: salat sekali sehari hanya malam hari, tidak wajib puasa, zakat, haji
Menganggap musyrik orang di luar Al-Qiyadah
Punya rasul baru: Ahmad Mushaddeq bergelar Almasih Almaw’ud
Syahadat baru: Ashadu ala Illa Ha Ilallah, Wa asyhadu anna Almasih Almaw’ud Rasulullah
Salamullah (Komunitas Eden)Pemimpin: Lia AminudinAktif: Sejak 1995Fatwa sesat MUI: 1997
Lia mengaku bertemu Jibril, kemudian sebagai Bunda Maria, dan akhirnya sebagai Jibril
Mengangkat anaknya, Ahmad Mukti, sebagai Nabi Isa
Mempunyai kitab suci sendiri
Jemaah Ngaji LelakuPemimpin: Yusman RoyAktif: Sejak 2005Fatwa sesat MUI: 2005
Salat dalam dua bahasa
Negara Islam IndonesiaFatwa sesat MUI: 2003
Mengganti salat wajib dengan mencari anggota baru
Menghalalkan segala cara untuk bisa berinfak ke organisasi
Mengancam anggota yang mundur
Islam JamaahPendiri: Nur Hasan UbaidahAktif: 1970-an
Dilarang pemerintah pada 1971
Aliran ini berubah nama menjadi Lemkari dan Lembaga Dakwah Islamiyah Indonesia (LDII) pada 1991
Menganggap musyrik umat di luar Islam Jamaah
Pakaian dan tubuh yang tersentuh umat lain harus disucikan
Tidak mau salat bersama umat di luar kelompok
Al-Quran SuciFatwa sesat MUI: belum ada
Tidak mengakui Hadis
Tidak melakukan kewajiban dalam rukun Islam
Memisahkan jemaah dari keluarganya
AhmadiyahPendiri: Mirza Ghulam AhmadAktif: Sejak 1889 di Pakistan, masuk Indonesia 1924Fatwa sesat MUI: 1980 dan 2005
Menganggap Mirza Ghulam Ahmad sebagai nabi
Edisi. 37/XXXVI/05 - 11 November 2007
Laporan Utama
Ahmad Mushaddeq: Kapal Muhammad Sudah Hancur
PENAMPILANNYA tak seperti orang tua lainnya. Dia membungkus tubuh gempalnya dengan polo shirt kuning plus jaket korduroi hitam. Gayanya makin funky saja dengan celana jins bermerek BMW. Hanya uban di balik peci hitamnya yang tak bisa menutupi senja usianya.
Begitulah penampilan Ahmad Mushaddeq, 63 tahun, saat datang ke kantor majalah Tempo tiga pekan silam. Tapi ketegarannya tidak terlihat lagi ketika ia menyerahkan diri ke markas Kepolisian Daerah Metro Jakarta Raya, Rabu pekan lalu.
Laki-laki asli Betawi ini lahir dengan nama Abdul Salam. Setelah lulus dari Sekolah Tinggi Olahraga Jakarta, dia menjadi guru di sebuah sekolah dasar di Menteng, Jakarta Pusat. Menurut Muthmainah, sang istri, Abdul merupakan cucu Ahmad Toha, pendiri ilmu silat. ”Sampai hari ini banyak muridnya yang mencari beliau supaya mengajar, tapi bukan itu maunya,” katanya.
Dia lalu masuk Dinas Olahraga DKI dan menjadi pelatih fisik tim bulu tangkis nasional pada 1979 hingga 1990. Anak didiknya antara lain Icuk Sugiarto. Mantan pemain Christian Hadinata mengenangnya sebagai orang yang mudah bergaul dan religius. Untuk menambah penghasilan, ia berbisnis jual-beli tanah, sehingga dapat menyekolahkan anak-anaknya ke Bandung sampai ke Swiss di Eropa sana.
Berikut petikan wawancara dengan Mushaddeq:
Apa yang membuat Anda yakin telah dipilih Allah sebagai rasul?
Saya bertahanut selama 40 hari 40 malam di vila saya di gunung Bunder, Bogor. Saya bermimpi, pas pukul 12 malam, didatangi seseorang dan dibawa ke pantai. Di sana ada kapal besar terdampar. Ribuan orang sedang mencari jalan keluar tapi tidak ketemu. Saya terjaga. Saya bicara kepada Allah, kalau mimpi ini memang dari Engkau, berilah aku mimpi yang sama. Esoknya, saya mimpi persis sama. Saya minta lagi, dan besoknya mimpi lagi.
Bukankah itu cuma mimpi, bagaimana Anda yakin itu wahyu?
Mimpi tentang kapal itu tamsil, yaitu ada kapal yang akan tenggelam dengan banyak penumpang. Siapa mereka, yaitu kaum agamis yang masih bersyahadat pada Muhammad. Sebenarnya kapal Muhammad ini sudah hancur 700 tahun lalu setelah pasukan dari Mongol mengalahkan Bagdad pada 1280. Nah, untuk menegakkan kekhalifahan Islam kembali, perlu ditunjuk rasul. Tiga hari sebelum malam terakhir, saya bermimpi dilantik oleh Allah: umumkan kepada dunia bahwa kamu adalah rasul. Saat itu tanggal 23 Juli 2006.
Menurut sejumlah hadis, tak ada lagi nabi dan rasul setelah Muhammad.
Pegangan kami Al-Quran. Kami tak akan bergeser seujung rambut pun dari Al-Quran. (Mushaddeq mengutip Quran surat 28:59) Tidaklah Allah menghancurkan suatu negeri, kecuali di ibu kota itu dibangkitkan seorang nabi. Ini menunjukkan masih ada nabi. Untuk apa keberadaan nabi itu? Untuk mengingatkan sebelum Allah menjatuhkan hukuman. Saya adalah rasul dari Betawi.
Al-Qiyadah tak percaya hadis?
Hadis yang ada sekarang disusun 350 tahun setelah Nabi wafat. Dari 500 ribu, terkumpul 500 hadis. Itu pun kata Bukhari harus diperiksa. Buat apa menghabiskan waktu untuk yang tidak pasti, padahal di Quran semua sudah ada.
Kenapa tidak salat lima waktu?
Kami hanya menjalankan kewajiban se-perti dalam surat Al-Muzzammil (salat malam dan baca Quran). Kita masih hidup dalam periode Makkiyah, kami belum bisa mewajibkan salat kepada warga. Makanya hari ini perintahnya berdasarkan akidah. Salat lima waktu belum, zakat dan puasa tidak ada. Tapi nanti pada saatnya akan ada. Menunggu hijrah. Kapan hijrahnya? Belum ada wahyu dari Allah.
Siapa saja pengikut Anda?
Banyak. Jemaah kami biasanya mahasiswa, pelajar, atau orang muda. Karena kami mengajarkan Islam berdasarkan pendekatan akal pikiran yang logis, dijelaskan apa itu Islam, perjalanan sejarah Islam, apa itu Al-Quran.
Yudono, Irfan Budiman, Ig. Widi Nugroho
Laporan Utama
Rasul Keren dari Betawi
Kehidupan beragama di Indonesia tampaknya tak pernah sepi dari amuk massa. Setelah gerakan Ahmadiyah diserang tahun lalu, kini massa merusak dan membakar sebagian rumah pendiri aliran Al-Qiyadah al-Islamiyah. Pengikut Ahmad Mushaddeq yang mengaku sebagai rasul dari Betawi itu kini terus diburu. Majelis Ulama Indonesia menyatakan aliran ini sesat. Benarkah keyakinan bisa dihakimi? Mengapa aliran-aliran baru yang belakangan bermunculan itu justru meraup pengikut dari kalangan muda?
IA tampak letih dan kusut. Satu-satunya yang tak berbeda, dan ini membuat polisi geleng kepala, ia tak pernah berhenti menjelaskan aliran yang diproklamasikannya sejak 2001 itu. ”Ia kelihatan pintar. Kalau ditanya, nyerocos panjang-lebar,” kata Kepala Kesatuan Keamanan Negara Polda Metro Jakarta, AKBP Tornagogo Sihombing.
Dialah Ahmad Mushaddeq alias Abdul Salam, yang mengaku sebagai rasul baru. Ia, bersama enam pengikutnya, memilih mendatangi Markas Kepolisian Daerah Metro Jakarta ketimbang diburu polisi atau digelandang massa. Dua tangannya pun diborgol ke belakang pada Rabu dua pekan lalu.
Sang ”rasul” yang menggegerkan itu akhirnya menyerah ke polisi. Tak tampak lagi penampilannya yang parlente dengan jas dan dasi seperti dalam pertemuan akbar 267 jemaah Al-Qiyadah al-Islamiyah di lantai 11 Graha BIP, Jalan Gatot Subroto, Jakarta Selatan, sepekan sebelumnya.
Inilah drama mutakhir Al-Qiyadah setelah dinyatakan sebagai aliran sesat oleh Majelis Ulama Indonesia. Tiga pengikutnya di Bantul, Daerah Istimewa Yogyakarta, digropyok massa pada September lalu. Sebulan berikutnya, giliran jemaah di Padang digerebek warga.
Nasib Mushaddeq, 63 tahun, ini mirip yang dialami Lia Aminudin, pendiri Salamullah atau Komunitas Eden. Persis pula dengan nasib Yusman Roy, yang ditangkap setelah menggagas salat dalam dua bahasa—Arab dan Indonesia—melalui jemaah Ngaji Lelaku di Malang, Jawa Timur. Rumah Lia diobrak-abrik massa. Ia harus mendekam di penjara satu setengah tahun.
Sedangkan Yusman Roy, bekas petinju itu, juga dihukum penjara dua tahun, Agustus lalu. Namun ia tak terbukti melakukan ”penodaan agama” sebagaimana dakwaan primer jaksa. Tapi ia tetap saja divonis merujuk dakwaan subsider, yakni menyiarkan dan melakukan penghinaan terhadap segolongan penduduk Indonesia. Yusman sampai bikin Bupati Malang meneken surat keputusan agar ajarannya dihentikan.
Nasib Mushaddeq idem ditto. Sebagian bangunan Vila Lakapura miliknya di kawasan Gunung Bunder, Bogor, Jawa Barat, sudah dibakar oleh kelompok yang menamakan diri Majelis Ulama Islam, Selasa malam pekan lalu.
Aksi ”rusak dan bakar” itu adalah jilid kesekian dalam praktek kekerasan kehidupan beragama di Indonesia. Perusakan pertama yang tercatat terjadi pada 1974, ketika Ali Taetang Laikabu menahbiskan diri sebagai nabi baru di Sulawesi Selatan. Yang paling ramai dan mengundang perhatian publik yang luas tentu saja adalah perusakan aset Ahmadiyah di berbagai kota tahun lalu.
Al-Qiyadah juga melengkapi daftar 250 kepercayaan sesat yang dikeluarkan oleh Pengawas Aliran Kepercayaan Masyarakat (Pakem) dari 1980 hingga 2006. Pakem beranggotakan Departemen Dalam Negeri, Departemen Agama, dan Kejaksaan Agung. MUI sendiri telah mengeluarkan 86 fatwa sejak berdiri pada 1975. Sepuluh dari fatwa itu menyangkut ajaran sesat (lihat infografik).
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Kisah ”rasul Gunung Bunder” itu bermula dari Vila Lakapura yang terletak sekitar 20 kilometer dari Bogor ke arah Sukabumi tersebut. Mushaddeq bertapa selama 40 hari 40 malam di salah satu sudut vila yang ia sebut gua. Pada malam ke-37, tepatnya pada 23 Juli tahun lalu, ia mengaku mendapat perintah Tuhan untuk menyatakan sebagai rasul kepada seluruh umat manusia. Ia menyebut dirinya Almasih Almaw’ud, almasih yang dijanjikan. ”Tugas saya memurnikan ajaran Musa, Isa, dan Muhammad,” ucapnya.
Sejak ”turun wahyu” itu, Mushaddeq pun mengembangkan ajarannya. Dakwah yang semula hanya terbatas pada lingkungan terdekat kini bergerak ke luar. Ia mengumpulkan 12 sahabat, mirip 12 murid Isa, dan masing-masing diminta mencari 12 pengikut. Dengan sistem jaringan ala multilevel marketing ini, pengikutnya berbiak cepat.
Pemimpin Al-Qiyadah ini juga muncul di televisi dan mengundang wartawan untuk meliput kegiatan binayah roin atau pembinaan calon pemimpin, yang sebelumnya tertutup. Mushaddeq rajin berkeliling dari satu kota ke kota lain. Pagi hari ada di Jakarta, sorenya ia sudah terbang ke Surabaya. Ia punya pengikut di Jakarta, Bandung, Yogyakarta, Surabaya, Padang, Makassar, bahkan hingga pelosok seperti Tabalong, Kalimantan Selatan. Di Jakarta saja, kata Kepala Polda Metro Irjen Polisi Adang Firman, ada 8.000-an pengikut. Sebagian besar orang muda.
Jika tak sedang tausiyah ke luar kota, pensiunan pegawai Dinas Olahraga DKI Jakarta ini lebih memilih berdiam di rumahnya yang luas di bilangan Tanah Baru, Depok. Ia bertanam singkong atau sayur-sayuran lain di tanahnya yang seluas 2.300 meter persegi. Di lain waktu, kesenangannya adalah memperbaiki jip bekas. Salah satu jip dibelinya sepuluh tahun lalu di Madura, Jawa Timur. Awalnya hanya bangkai yang kemudian ia sulap menjadi mobil hijau khas tentara. Satu lagi berwarna oranye. ”Itu mobilnya Rasulullah,” kata Muthmainah, istri Mushaddeq.
Bila sedang berceramah, para pengikutnya tampak terbuai ucapan Mushaddeq yang nyerocos abis. Mereka manggut-manggut atau tertawa terbahak, meski tak genah benar logika berpikirnya. Dalam pertemuan akbar di BIP, misalnya, Mushaddeq menyebut, setelah Muhammad, rasul yang tampil di muka bumi bukan dari keturunan Bani Israel, Yahudi, atau Arab, tapi dari suku yang sama sekali tak terduga: Betawi. ”Keren kan orang Betawi jadi rasul?” ucapnya, yang disambut gelak tawa jemaahnya.
Coba dengar khotbahnya ini. Keberadaan suku Betawi yang menghuni tanah Jakarta, katanya, sudah menjadi strategi Allah. Sebagai ibu kota negara RI, Jakarta atau tanah Betawi menjadi tempat berkumpulnya suku-suku lain. Ia sendiri lahir di kampung Betawi di kawasan Kemang. ”Jadi, cocok dengan lagunya Rhoma Irama yang berjudul 135 Juta Penduduk Indonesia,” ujarnya ngakak. Entah apa hubungan sang raja dangdut itu dengan strategi Tuhan.
Kendati logika ucapannya terpeleset sana-sini, toh pengikutnya pasrah bongkokan pada sang rasul. Bonaji, 38 tahun, warga Balaraja, Banten, malah menyebut pengajaran Mushaddeq masuk akal. ”Setelah menjadi jemaah Qiyadah, saya tahu makna isi Al-Quran melalui penjelasan Rasul yang sangat masuk akal,” kata karyawan perusahaan kontraktor PT Pembangunan Perumahan itu.
Pria asal Jember, Jawa Timur, ini pun berani meninggalkan masjid dan salat lima waktu, setelah sang Rasul menjelaskan bahwa periode kenabiannya saat ini masih dalam periode Mekah atau Makkiyah, sama seperti periode Muhammad sebelum mendapat perintah menjalankan salat. Kewajiban menjalankan rukun Islam baru dilaksanakan setelah mendapat perintah untuk hijrah. Ini masuk akal bagi Bonaji.
Argumen periode Makkiyah ini segera ditampik Ketua MUI Ma’ruf Amin. ”Kalau orang salat dikejar-kejar, itu mungkin bisa disamakan dengan periode Mekah. Tapi di Indonesia kan orang salat tidak dihalangi,” katanya.
Al-Qiyadah tak mewajibkan pengikutnya melaksanakan rukun Islam seperti salat, zakat, puasa, dan berhaji. Jemaah hanya diwajibkan salat malam dan membaca Al-Quran. Syahadat aliran ini juga lain, yaitu dengan menyebut Almasih Almaw’ud sebagai rasul Allah.
Jemaah pun tak menampakkan penampilan tertentu seperti memelihara jenggot, celana cingkrang, atau kerudung untuk wanita. Mereka menganggap semua yang di luar Al-Qiyadah adalah musyrik, menyekutukan Tuhan. Itu pula sebabnya, mereka tak mau menyantap daging hasil sembelihan orang di luar alirannya.
Lalu apanya yang sesat? Menurut Ma’ruf Amin, minimal ada tiga hal yang membuat aliran ini dipandang sesat, yaitu menciptakan syahadat baru, ada rasul baru, dan menyatakan salat serta rukun Islam lain tak wajib. ”Itu sudah jelas bertentangan dengan Al-Quran dan Hadis,” katanya.
Tak cuma MUI dan Front Pembela Islam yang tersundut. NU dan Muhammadiyah pun mengecap Al-Qiyadah sebagai aliran sesat. ”Jika ingin membuat ajaran baru, jangan mengaitkan dengan agama yang sudah mempunyai tatanan yang baku. Akibatnya, pengikut agama yang sudah baku akan bereaksi dan berkeberatan terhadap ajaran itu,” kata Din Syamsuddin, Ketua Umum Muhammadiyah.
Reaksi ini dikritik oleh Ketua Jaringan Islam Liberal (JIL) Ulil Abshar Abdalla. ”NU dan Muhammadiyah gagal menerapkan prinsip toleransi, sebagaimana dikehendaki konstitusi kita,” katanya. Dalam prinsip kebebasan beragama, katanya, seseorang tak bisa dipaksa memeluk suatu keyakinan dan agama yang tak sesuai dengan kata hati.
Berbeda dengan JIL, Komisi Nasional Hak Asasi Manusia mendukung langkah polisi menangkap pemimpin Al-Qiyadah. Alasannya, pemerintah punya hak mengintervensi penyebaran ajaran yang dinilai telah menodai suatu agama. Namun, kata Ketua Komnas HAM Ifdhal Kasim, pemerintah tak bisa mengintervensi akidah atau keyakinannya.
Hanya, vonis sesat dari MUI dan sejumlah ormas Islam itu tak urung telah menggerakkan masyarakat di beberapa daerah melakukan aksi ”pembersihan”. Dedi Priyadi, pemimpin Al-Qiyadah di Padang, dan keluarganya, misalnya, kini harus hidup nomaden sejak rumahnya di daerah Simpang Haru, Padang, digerebek warga pada awal Oktober lalu. Mereka hidup menumpang di rumah saudara dan kenalan.
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Fenomena rasul atau nabi baru itu sebenarnya bukanlah barang baru. Alkisah, sejak zaman Muhammad telah ada yang mengaku nabi baru. Musailamah al-Kadzab adalah yang pertama terang-terangan mendeklarasikan sebagai nabi baru. Ia berkuasa di daerah Yamamah, kini salah satu distrik di Arab Saudi. Ia menikahi seorang wanita yang juga mengaku nabi.
Musailamah dikenal berani. Ia mengirim surat kepada Muhammad berisi ajakan untuk membagi kekuasaan bumi menjadi dua. Satu untuk Muhammad dan satunya untuk nabi baru: dia. Muhammad tak mengirim pasukan untuk menyerang Musailamah. Ia memilih mengungkapkan kedustaan Musailamah. Baru pada zaman khalifah Abu Bakar pasukan dikirim untuk memerangi Musailamah.
Nabi yang lain muncul di Pakistan. Mirza Ghulam Ahmad mendirikan Ahmadiyah pada 1889 dan mengaku sebagai nabi. Ahmadiyah masuk ke Indonesia sejak 1924. Pada masa awal perkembangan Islam di Jawa, muncul ajaran Manunggaling Kawula Gusti, yang diperkenalkan Syekh Siti Jenar pada abad ke-13. Di sini Syekh Siti Jenar tak bicara tentang kenabian, tapi lebih tinggi lagi, yaitu tentang konsep wahdatul wujud, menyatunya Tuhan ke dalam diri.
Nabi made in Indonesia asli baru ramai dibicarakan pada awal Orde Baru. Ali Taetang Laikabu adalah ”nabi Makassar” yang mengawali masa ini. Namun ajaran Ali bersifat lokal dan sekarang sudah tak terdengar. Pada 1986, rasul lain muncul. Kali ini gemanya lebih luas, lantaran dilontarkan oleh Teguh Esha, penulis novel pop Ali Topan Anak Jalanan.
Teguh antara lain mendustakan Hadis, mengubah jumlah rakaat salat dari 17 menjadi 19, dan cukup membaca syahadat dengan ”Tidak ada sesembahan selain Allah”. Salat model Teguh memakai bahasa Indonesia dan jurus-jurus silat dengan tangan, kaki, dan terkadang pantat, bergoyang-goyang (Tempo, 6 Desember 1986).
Teguh kini terbaring lemah di Rumah Sakit Fatmawati karena diabetes. Ia tak mengira puluhan seniman, yang notabene bukan pengikut kerasulannya, justru yang datang menjenguknya dan memindahkan kamarnya dari kelas III ke kelas II. Ia sempat menjadi pasien layanan cuma-cuma Dompet Dhuafa. ”Saya selama ini soliter dan tak menduga kedatangan mereka,” ucapnya. Teguh kini enggan mengingat masa lalu kenabiannya yang suram itu.
Setelah ”Ali Topan Rasul Jalanan”, sejumlah ajaran datang dan pergi. Belakangan, peminat ajaran baru itu justru datang dari anak muda. Puluhan anak muda yang berumur kurang dari 20 tahun di Bandung, misalnya, menjadi pengikut Al-Quran Suci. Sembilan orang di antaranya kini raib dan polisi kelimpungan mencari. Dua mahasiswi yang hilang sempat mengirim surat kepada orang tua dan menyatakan diri baik-baik saja.
Tim Investigasi Aliran Sesat (TIAS) bentukan Forum Ulama Umat Indonesia menemukan catatan ajaran Al-Quran Suci. Di antaranya catatan mengenai doktrin ruhuiyah (aturan), mulqiyah (wilayah/tempat) , uluhiyah (umat atau manusia). Struktur kehidupan digambarkan dengan analogi sebatang pohon yang terdiri dari akar, batang, dan buahnya. Menurut Koordinator TIAS Hedi Muhammad, struktur doktrin aliran yang diduga beroperasi di Bandung, Jakarta, dan Yogyakarta ini mirip dengan KW IX, salah satu sempalan Negara Islam Indonesia (NII). Mereka menerapkan proses rekrutmen tertutup.
Proses rekrutmen tertutup dan misteri NII itu telah mencemaskan Ahmad Buchori Saleh. Pengusaha Jakarta Selatan ini kini lebih memilih mengurung anaknya, Fafa, untuk melepaskannya dari jeratan NII. Mahasiswa tahun pertama Universitas Bina Nusantara, Jakarta, itu ketahuan mengikuti NII setelah minggat dari rumah karena menjual sepeda. Bukan hanya sepeda, uang tabungan Rp 20 juta juga ikut lenyap karena disetorkan ke NII.
Mantan Rektor Universitas Islam Negeri Jakarta Azyumardi Azra menyatakan, lakunya ajaran sesat di kalangan anak muda itu lantaran masyarakat kini mengalami kondisi yang serba tidak menentu. Anak-anak muda tersebut berusaha mencari seorang pemimpin yang dapat dipercaya dan dapat menerima krisis identitas mereka. ”Dalam sosiologi keagamaan ada yang disebut harapan eskatologis. Dalam harapan ini anak muda percaya bahwa pemimpin mereka adalah juru penyelamat, Imam Mahdi, atau apa pun yang akan menyelamatkan mereka,” ujarnya.
Harapan itu terbit karena pemahaman agama mereka belum mempunyai dasar yang kuat. Akibatnya, kata Azyumardi, mereka mengalami misleading dalam pencarian. Faktor berikutnya yang turut berperan: adanya kecenderungan pembiaran umat oleh para pemuka agama sehingga dimanfaatkan penyebar aliran baru. Di sinilah kepiawaian menjual ajaran itu muncul. Mereka dengan intens mendatangi dan menawarkan bimbingan.
Simak pengakuan Budi Tamtomo, pemimpin Al-Qiyadah Yogyakarta. Ia semula jauh dari agama dan menjalani mo limo—lima M (madon atau bermain perempuan, minum, main, madat, maling). Al-Qiyadah terus mendekatinya. Alhasil, dalam tiga bulan, ia pun takluk dan berhasil meninggalkan kebiasaan lamanya. Ia bahkan kini benar-benar jauh dari perempuan, bahkan rela berpisah dari istri yang tak mau mengikuti ajaran yang ia anut.
Aliran ini juga menggelar ritual mohon pengampunan. Kepada setiap pengikut ditawarkan bisa langsung berhadapan dengan rasul untuk pengakuan dosa. Bertemu rasul dan ada kepastian dosa diampuni ini telah membuat hati umatnya benar-benar plong.
Dengan sejumlah nilai jual itu—boleh tidak salat, puasa, zakat, haji, dan diampuni langsung oleh rasul—Al-Qiyadah meraup ribuan pendukung. Apakah dengan demikian mereka layak dihakimi? Rektor Universitas Negeri Syarif Hidayatullah Jakarta, Komaruddin Hidayat, mengkritik MUI yang terlalu peka terhadap urusan akidah. Padahal, jelas keyakinan adalah masalah privat. ”Sedangkan kalau ada sabotase rel kereta api, mereka diam saja,” tulisnya melalui pesan pendek.
Komaruddin pun menawarkan cara gampang menghadapi pelbagai aliran yang aneh-aneh itu. ”Diketawain saja, entar kan bubar sendiri,” ucapnya. Seseorang di Markas Polda Metro juga punya cara jitu mengetahui apakah Mushaddeq itu seorang rasul. ”Gampang, konfirmasikan saja kepada Lia Aminudin yang mengaku sebagai Jibril, apakah ia telah menurunkan wahyu kepada Mushaddeq,” ujarnya seraya tertawa. Benar juga. Silakan, Anda boleh terpikat atau malah terbahak-bahak… .
Yos Rizal, Yudono, Elik Susanto, Irfan Budiman, Widi Nugroho, Retno Sari, Ahmad Fikri (Bandung), Febrianti (Padang), Heru C.N. (Yogyakarta) , Kukuh S. Wibowo (Surabaya)
Kenapa Sesat
Berdiri sejak 1975, Majelis Ulama Indonesia telah mengeluarkan lebih dari 86 fatwa. Sepuluh dari fatwa itu menyangkut aliran yang dinilai sesat. Selain MUI pusat, majelis ulama di daerah juga bisa mengeluarkan fatwa sesat.
Kriteria dasar sesat menurut MUI adalah bila aliran itu bertentangan dengan Al-Quran dan tidak mempercayai hadis Nabi Muhammad sebagai sumber hukum syariat. Berikut karakter sejumlah aliran yang telah dan belum mendapat cap fatwa MUI.
Al-Qiyadah al-IslamiyahPemimpin: Ahmad MushaddeqAktif: Sejak 2001Fatwa sesat MUI: 2007
Tidak menjalankan rukun Islam: salat sekali sehari hanya malam hari, tidak wajib puasa, zakat, haji
Menganggap musyrik orang di luar Al-Qiyadah
Punya rasul baru: Ahmad Mushaddeq bergelar Almasih Almaw’ud
Syahadat baru: Ashadu ala Illa Ha Ilallah, Wa asyhadu anna Almasih Almaw’ud Rasulullah
Salamullah (Komunitas Eden)Pemimpin: Lia AminudinAktif: Sejak 1995Fatwa sesat MUI: 1997
Lia mengaku bertemu Jibril, kemudian sebagai Bunda Maria, dan akhirnya sebagai Jibril
Mengangkat anaknya, Ahmad Mukti, sebagai Nabi Isa
Mempunyai kitab suci sendiri
Jemaah Ngaji LelakuPemimpin: Yusman RoyAktif: Sejak 2005Fatwa sesat MUI: 2005
Salat dalam dua bahasa
Negara Islam IndonesiaFatwa sesat MUI: 2003
Mengganti salat wajib dengan mencari anggota baru
Menghalalkan segala cara untuk bisa berinfak ke organisasi
Mengancam anggota yang mundur
Islam JamaahPendiri: Nur Hasan UbaidahAktif: 1970-an
Dilarang pemerintah pada 1971
Aliran ini berubah nama menjadi Lemkari dan Lembaga Dakwah Islamiyah Indonesia (LDII) pada 1991
Menganggap musyrik umat di luar Islam Jamaah
Pakaian dan tubuh yang tersentuh umat lain harus disucikan
Tidak mau salat bersama umat di luar kelompok
Al-Quran SuciFatwa sesat MUI: belum ada
Tidak mengakui Hadis
Tidak melakukan kewajiban dalam rukun Islam
Memisahkan jemaah dari keluarganya
AhmadiyahPendiri: Mirza Ghulam AhmadAktif: Sejak 1889 di Pakistan, masuk Indonesia 1924Fatwa sesat MUI: 1980 dan 2005
Menganggap Mirza Ghulam Ahmad sebagai nabi
Edisi. 37/XXXVI/05 - 11 November 2007
Laporan Utama
Ahmad Mushaddeq: Kapal Muhammad Sudah Hancur
PENAMPILANNYA tak seperti orang tua lainnya. Dia membungkus tubuh gempalnya dengan polo shirt kuning plus jaket korduroi hitam. Gayanya makin funky saja dengan celana jins bermerek BMW. Hanya uban di balik peci hitamnya yang tak bisa menutupi senja usianya.
Begitulah penampilan Ahmad Mushaddeq, 63 tahun, saat datang ke kantor majalah Tempo tiga pekan silam. Tapi ketegarannya tidak terlihat lagi ketika ia menyerahkan diri ke markas Kepolisian Daerah Metro Jakarta Raya, Rabu pekan lalu.
Laki-laki asli Betawi ini lahir dengan nama Abdul Salam. Setelah lulus dari Sekolah Tinggi Olahraga Jakarta, dia menjadi guru di sebuah sekolah dasar di Menteng, Jakarta Pusat. Menurut Muthmainah, sang istri, Abdul merupakan cucu Ahmad Toha, pendiri ilmu silat. ”Sampai hari ini banyak muridnya yang mencari beliau supaya mengajar, tapi bukan itu maunya,” katanya.
Dia lalu masuk Dinas Olahraga DKI dan menjadi pelatih fisik tim bulu tangkis nasional pada 1979 hingga 1990. Anak didiknya antara lain Icuk Sugiarto. Mantan pemain Christian Hadinata mengenangnya sebagai orang yang mudah bergaul dan religius. Untuk menambah penghasilan, ia berbisnis jual-beli tanah, sehingga dapat menyekolahkan anak-anaknya ke Bandung sampai ke Swiss di Eropa sana.
Berikut petikan wawancara dengan Mushaddeq:
Apa yang membuat Anda yakin telah dipilih Allah sebagai rasul?
Saya bertahanut selama 40 hari 40 malam di vila saya di gunung Bunder, Bogor. Saya bermimpi, pas pukul 12 malam, didatangi seseorang dan dibawa ke pantai. Di sana ada kapal besar terdampar. Ribuan orang sedang mencari jalan keluar tapi tidak ketemu. Saya terjaga. Saya bicara kepada Allah, kalau mimpi ini memang dari Engkau, berilah aku mimpi yang sama. Esoknya, saya mimpi persis sama. Saya minta lagi, dan besoknya mimpi lagi.
Bukankah itu cuma mimpi, bagaimana Anda yakin itu wahyu?
Mimpi tentang kapal itu tamsil, yaitu ada kapal yang akan tenggelam dengan banyak penumpang. Siapa mereka, yaitu kaum agamis yang masih bersyahadat pada Muhammad. Sebenarnya kapal Muhammad ini sudah hancur 700 tahun lalu setelah pasukan dari Mongol mengalahkan Bagdad pada 1280. Nah, untuk menegakkan kekhalifahan Islam kembali, perlu ditunjuk rasul. Tiga hari sebelum malam terakhir, saya bermimpi dilantik oleh Allah: umumkan kepada dunia bahwa kamu adalah rasul. Saat itu tanggal 23 Juli 2006.
Menurut sejumlah hadis, tak ada lagi nabi dan rasul setelah Muhammad.
Pegangan kami Al-Quran. Kami tak akan bergeser seujung rambut pun dari Al-Quran. (Mushaddeq mengutip Quran surat 28:59) Tidaklah Allah menghancurkan suatu negeri, kecuali di ibu kota itu dibangkitkan seorang nabi. Ini menunjukkan masih ada nabi. Untuk apa keberadaan nabi itu? Untuk mengingatkan sebelum Allah menjatuhkan hukuman. Saya adalah rasul dari Betawi.
Al-Qiyadah tak percaya hadis?
Hadis yang ada sekarang disusun 350 tahun setelah Nabi wafat. Dari 500 ribu, terkumpul 500 hadis. Itu pun kata Bukhari harus diperiksa. Buat apa menghabiskan waktu untuk yang tidak pasti, padahal di Quran semua sudah ada.
Kenapa tidak salat lima waktu?
Kami hanya menjalankan kewajiban se-perti dalam surat Al-Muzzammil (salat malam dan baca Quran). Kita masih hidup dalam periode Makkiyah, kami belum bisa mewajibkan salat kepada warga. Makanya hari ini perintahnya berdasarkan akidah. Salat lima waktu belum, zakat dan puasa tidak ada. Tapi nanti pada saatnya akan ada. Menunggu hijrah. Kapan hijrahnya? Belum ada wahyu dari Allah.
Siapa saja pengikut Anda?
Banyak. Jemaah kami biasanya mahasiswa, pelajar, atau orang muda. Karena kami mengajarkan Islam berdasarkan pendekatan akal pikiran yang logis, dijelaskan apa itu Islam, perjalanan sejarah Islam, apa itu Al-Quran.
Yudono, Irfan Budiman, Ig. Widi Nugroho
Monday, October 29, 2007
sedikit cerita sebagai ass professor
Jawaban untuk akang sealmamater
Salam, Terima kasih atas perhatiannya Kang Faqih. Saya baru dua bulan jadi Ass Professor, masih mempelajari segala aturan main dan program-program yang saya akan kerjakan kedepan. Untuk sementara, saya bisa katakan, lingkungan akademik di kampus tempat saya sekarang sangat baik, dengan dukungan professor senior dan kolega, staf, dan mahasiswa. Kolega-kolega saya pakar di bidang religious studies dan sebagian pakar di bidang area studies Asia Tenggara. Untuk religious studies, masing-masing profesor fokus pada agama tertentu, misalnya Katolik, Buddha, Sikhisme, Konghucu, Yahudi, dan sebagainya, sementara saya satu-satunya prof bidang Islam. Semester depan saya akan mengajar agama-agama di Asia (Hindu, Buddha, Islam, Sikh, Konghucu, Tao, Sinto) dari sisi ajaran, kitab suci, praktek keagamaan, dan kelembagaan. Saya juga akan mengajar Understanding the Qur'an, dan Islam di Asia Tenggara. Akan ada mata kuliah lain yang juga saya akan ajarkan, seperti agama dan politik, pemikiran Islam, dan sebagainya. Ini untuk program S-1, dan juga paskasarjana. Selain mengajar, sebagai professor, saya harus terus lakukan riset, publikasi, dan pengabdian (menjadi panitia, aktif dalam organisasi, dan semacamnya). Posisi assistant professor adalah jenjang pertama; setelah beberapa tahun akan dinilai, baru akan naik ke jenjang kedua, disebut Associate professor, lalu setelah itu, baru full professor. Assistant professor tidak berarti asisten dosen seperti di negeri kita, yaitu dosen yunior yang mengantikan profesor yang lebih senior (yang biasanya jarang hadir). Assistant professor di Barat memiliki otoritas penuh dalam bidang disiplin ilmunya. Sebagai assistant professor saya dibantu beberapa Teaching Assistant yang biasanya mahasiswa paskasarjana. Tugas lain adalah membimbing mahasiswa dalam kegiatan akademik, tesis, disertasi, dan sebagainya. Di Riverside, ada Islamic Center yang cukup besar berjamaah hampir seribuan dan bahkan lebih, umumnya pendatang dari negeri-negeri Muslim tapi sudah jadi orang Amerika. Orang Palestina, Mesir, Irak, Bangladesh, dan sebagainya, menjadi orang Amerika dan betah menjadi orang Amerika ketimbang tinggal di negeri-negeri asal mereka. Salah satu pelajaran penting di sini adalah menjadi Muslim tidaklah sulit di Amerika, dan bahkan kebebasan beragama sangat dijamin, terlepas dari sebagian orang Amerika yang tidak tahu banyak soal Islam. Salah satu acara yang saya ikuti Ramadhan yang baru lalu adalah dialog antaragama yang diadakan ole Islamic Center mengundang tokoh agama-agama di sini. Suasananya sangat akrab. Saya sempatkan tulis artikel soal itu di The Jakarta Post berjudul Ramadhan in America. Saya juga hadiri dialog antaragama yang dirintis masyarakat Muslim asal Turki. Ini dulu ceritanya, Kang Faqih. Nanti bisa disambung. Gimana kabar antum? Salam,
Salam, Terima kasih atas perhatiannya Kang Faqih. Saya baru dua bulan jadi Ass Professor, masih mempelajari segala aturan main dan program-program yang saya akan kerjakan kedepan. Untuk sementara, saya bisa katakan, lingkungan akademik di kampus tempat saya sekarang sangat baik, dengan dukungan professor senior dan kolega, staf, dan mahasiswa. Kolega-kolega saya pakar di bidang religious studies dan sebagian pakar di bidang area studies Asia Tenggara. Untuk religious studies, masing-masing profesor fokus pada agama tertentu, misalnya Katolik, Buddha, Sikhisme, Konghucu, Yahudi, dan sebagainya, sementara saya satu-satunya prof bidang Islam. Semester depan saya akan mengajar agama-agama di Asia (Hindu, Buddha, Islam, Sikh, Konghucu, Tao, Sinto) dari sisi ajaran, kitab suci, praktek keagamaan, dan kelembagaan. Saya juga akan mengajar Understanding the Qur'an, dan Islam di Asia Tenggara. Akan ada mata kuliah lain yang juga saya akan ajarkan, seperti agama dan politik, pemikiran Islam, dan sebagainya. Ini untuk program S-1, dan juga paskasarjana. Selain mengajar, sebagai professor, saya harus terus lakukan riset, publikasi, dan pengabdian (menjadi panitia, aktif dalam organisasi, dan semacamnya). Posisi assistant professor adalah jenjang pertama; setelah beberapa tahun akan dinilai, baru akan naik ke jenjang kedua, disebut Associate professor, lalu setelah itu, baru full professor. Assistant professor tidak berarti asisten dosen seperti di negeri kita, yaitu dosen yunior yang mengantikan profesor yang lebih senior (yang biasanya jarang hadir). Assistant professor di Barat memiliki otoritas penuh dalam bidang disiplin ilmunya. Sebagai assistant professor saya dibantu beberapa Teaching Assistant yang biasanya mahasiswa paskasarjana. Tugas lain adalah membimbing mahasiswa dalam kegiatan akademik, tesis, disertasi, dan sebagainya. Di Riverside, ada Islamic Center yang cukup besar berjamaah hampir seribuan dan bahkan lebih, umumnya pendatang dari negeri-negeri Muslim tapi sudah jadi orang Amerika. Orang Palestina, Mesir, Irak, Bangladesh, dan sebagainya, menjadi orang Amerika dan betah menjadi orang Amerika ketimbang tinggal di negeri-negeri asal mereka. Salah satu pelajaran penting di sini adalah menjadi Muslim tidaklah sulit di Amerika, dan bahkan kebebasan beragama sangat dijamin, terlepas dari sebagian orang Amerika yang tidak tahu banyak soal Islam. Salah satu acara yang saya ikuti Ramadhan yang baru lalu adalah dialog antaragama yang diadakan ole Islamic Center mengundang tokoh agama-agama di sini. Suasananya sangat akrab. Saya sempatkan tulis artikel soal itu di The Jakarta Post berjudul Ramadhan in America. Saya juga hadiri dialog antaragama yang dirintis masyarakat Muslim asal Turki. Ini dulu ceritanya, Kang Faqih. Nanti bisa disambung. Gimana kabar antum? Salam,
In Pursuit of Happiness
In pursuit of happiness
Happiness is a warm gun, sang the Beatles, and happiness is a long cold drink, an old beer advertisement heralds, and happiness is the happy and smiling faces of children.
But happiness is not always about self-gratification -- it can be about giving.
A Chinese proverb says if you want happiness for an hour, take a nap; if you want happiness for a day, go fishing; if you want happiness for a year, inherit a fortune; if you want happiness for a lifetime, help somebody.
And the Dalai Lama said, "If you want others to be happy, practice compassion".
Happiness is probably something everybody pursues in life, but happiness means different things to different people.
And to most, happiness means different things at different times.
Although material wealth, or at least well-being, is certainly an important element, happiness is not always associated with money or wealth.
Poor but happy people are forever in our midst -- and it is too easy to find wealthy miserable people.
And it's probably easier to find the latter group than the first in Indonesia, or in other places for that matter.
It is therefore courageous for anyone or any institution to try to rate and then aggregate the happiness of a nation, or of a people in a city.
The Frontier Consulting Group Indonesia last week released a study called the Indonesian Happiness Index 2007.
The study is based on a survey involving 1,800 respondents, 300 each in the six cities selected including Jakarta, Medan, Bandung, Semarang, Semarang, Surabaya and Makassar.
It finds the Indonesian Happiness Index (IHI) at 47.96 (presumably out of a possible score of 100), which put Indonesia below the average (meaning an index of 50).
The study did not say where Indonesia stood in relation to other countries.
The survey included questions related to the age, gender, income, education, job/position and religious devotion of the respondents, and came out with some interesting results.
People in Semarang and Makassar are said to be among the happiest in Indonesia, with those in Jakarta and Medan are among the most miserable, with their city ranking fifth and sixth respectively.
Speculation around why Semarang is the happiest city to live in remains however, as does the reason behind the study's findings that men are generally happier than women. No explanation was provided.
In terms of age, those in the 41-50 year-old category were happiest and those in 21-30 years old were most miserable, probably because those in the first group tend to be more established in their jobs and life, while those in the second group are just embarking on adulthood.
The rest of the survey's results are somewhat predictable. Those with a higher education and a good income (the two are usually related anyway) are happiest.
The more religious among us are said to be happier (probably because we think God is always with us).
Perhaps we should also thank religion, and religious leaders, for helping the nation through some of the most difficult times in the last 10 years.
In most other countries, the hardship the nation endured would have led to social upheaval.
In terms of profession, one result shows those in middle management were happier than those in top management.
So, those craving for the top job may want to think again -- and weigh-up the lucrative perks versus the responsibility that comes with being number one in the company.
If the Frontier Consulting Group put Indonesia below average (because it ranked below 50 in the index), a study published in 2006 by the New Economics Foundation actually put Indonesia among the happiest lot in the world in a survey of 178 countries.
The Happy Planet Index, issued to challenge the use of the gross domestic product (GDP) and the United Nations' Human Development Index (HDI) in measuring the welfare of a nation, found material wealth did define the happiness (or the fulfillment of a happy life) of a nation.
Vanuatu heads the happy index which includes Vietnam, Sri Lanka and the Philippines in the top 20. Indonesia came at a decent 23rd. The United States ranked 150th and Zimbabwe bottom of the list at 178th.
The Happy Planet Index, and the more recent Frontier Consulting Group measurement of Indonesians, reminders that while we keep to the adage that "men don't live on bread alone", material well-being is still important in our pursuit of happiness.
Granted, it is not the most important measurement of happiness, but it is an important component nevertheless.
And the pursuit of happiness, while not clearly stated as a right in our constitution, is an inalienable right for every citizen in this county, just as life and liberty are. (Editorial, The Jakarta Post, October 29, 2007)
Happiness is a warm gun, sang the Beatles, and happiness is a long cold drink, an old beer advertisement heralds, and happiness is the happy and smiling faces of children.
But happiness is not always about self-gratification -- it can be about giving.
A Chinese proverb says if you want happiness for an hour, take a nap; if you want happiness for a day, go fishing; if you want happiness for a year, inherit a fortune; if you want happiness for a lifetime, help somebody.
And the Dalai Lama said, "If you want others to be happy, practice compassion".
Happiness is probably something everybody pursues in life, but happiness means different things to different people.
And to most, happiness means different things at different times.
Although material wealth, or at least well-being, is certainly an important element, happiness is not always associated with money or wealth.
Poor but happy people are forever in our midst -- and it is too easy to find wealthy miserable people.
And it's probably easier to find the latter group than the first in Indonesia, or in other places for that matter.
It is therefore courageous for anyone or any institution to try to rate and then aggregate the happiness of a nation, or of a people in a city.
The Frontier Consulting Group Indonesia last week released a study called the Indonesian Happiness Index 2007.
The study is based on a survey involving 1,800 respondents, 300 each in the six cities selected including Jakarta, Medan, Bandung, Semarang, Semarang, Surabaya and Makassar.
It finds the Indonesian Happiness Index (IHI) at 47.96 (presumably out of a possible score of 100), which put Indonesia below the average (meaning an index of 50).
The study did not say where Indonesia stood in relation to other countries.
The survey included questions related to the age, gender, income, education, job/position and religious devotion of the respondents, and came out with some interesting results.
People in Semarang and Makassar are said to be among the happiest in Indonesia, with those in Jakarta and Medan are among the most miserable, with their city ranking fifth and sixth respectively.
Speculation around why Semarang is the happiest city to live in remains however, as does the reason behind the study's findings that men are generally happier than women. No explanation was provided.
In terms of age, those in the 41-50 year-old category were happiest and those in 21-30 years old were most miserable, probably because those in the first group tend to be more established in their jobs and life, while those in the second group are just embarking on adulthood.
The rest of the survey's results are somewhat predictable. Those with a higher education and a good income (the two are usually related anyway) are happiest.
The more religious among us are said to be happier (probably because we think God is always with us).
Perhaps we should also thank religion, and religious leaders, for helping the nation through some of the most difficult times in the last 10 years.
In most other countries, the hardship the nation endured would have led to social upheaval.
In terms of profession, one result shows those in middle management were happier than those in top management.
So, those craving for the top job may want to think again -- and weigh-up the lucrative perks versus the responsibility that comes with being number one in the company.
If the Frontier Consulting Group put Indonesia below average (because it ranked below 50 in the index), a study published in 2006 by the New Economics Foundation actually put Indonesia among the happiest lot in the world in a survey of 178 countries.
The Happy Planet Index, issued to challenge the use of the gross domestic product (GDP) and the United Nations' Human Development Index (HDI) in measuring the welfare of a nation, found material wealth did define the happiness (or the fulfillment of a happy life) of a nation.
Vanuatu heads the happy index which includes Vietnam, Sri Lanka and the Philippines in the top 20. Indonesia came at a decent 23rd. The United States ranked 150th and Zimbabwe bottom of the list at 178th.
The Happy Planet Index, and the more recent Frontier Consulting Group measurement of Indonesians, reminders that while we keep to the adage that "men don't live on bread alone", material well-being is still important in our pursuit of happiness.
Granted, it is not the most important measurement of happiness, but it is an important component nevertheless.
And the pursuit of happiness, while not clearly stated as a right in our constitution, is an inalienable right for every citizen in this county, just as life and liberty are. (Editorial, The Jakarta Post, October 29, 2007)
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