November 1999

Long before the surprise results of Indonesia’s presidential elections on October 20, Abdurrahman Wahid, popularly known as Gus Dur, was one of Indonesia’s highest profile public intellectuals. Indeed, over the 15-year period that he has been chairman of the traditionalist organization Nahdlatul Ulama it’s hard to think of anyone whose face more frequently graced the covers of the Indonesian news weeklies, at least outside of government and military figures.

Over the years, his popularity has waxed and waned, usually in concert with his political manoeuvrings and the degree to which they were understood or misunderstood. In recent years Abdurrahman became an increasingly controversial figure and has sought to negotiate reductions in violence and to navigate the increasingly turbulent waters of late-Suharto and post-Suharto era Indonesia. Nevertheless, he remains an enormously popular and charismatic figure and one for whom even his detractors and erstwhile critics retain a high degree of affection.

Why is Abdurrahman so widely misunderstood though? Clearly there are a number reasons including his peculiar temperament and personality and, to some extent, the after effects of the serious stroke he suffered in late January 1998, which left him struggling to come to terms with blindness. Much of the misunderstanding though, arises from the almost unique position occupied by Abdurrahman in Indonesian society. He was simultaneously head of the traditionalist Muslim mass organization Nahdlatul Ulama and a long-running critic of the Suharto regime and campaigner for democratic reform. Consequently whilst many associate him with Nahdlatul Ulama and more recently its affiliated political party PKB, others know him better as a prominent public intellectual campaigning against human rights abuses and for democratisation. More recently still, many have come to associate him with PKB and now view him formally as what they always saw him to be informally, that is, as an independent politician.

Much of the confusion surrounding Abdurrahman stems from this multifaceted role that he plays in Indonesian society. More precisely though, it stems from the fact that on the one hand he is seen and recognized by many as a religious figure and on the other hand is interpreted by many others, particularly in the metropolitan centres and amongst Indonesia’s educated middle-class as either an essentially secular politician, or as a liberal intellectual. With this second group, the misunderstanding about Abdurrahman arguably parallels a misunderstanding in the West more generally; that is, how can somebody who is a liberal intellectual also be regarded as a religious figure, indeed as a charismatic saint-like leader? If this conundrum is not properly investigated and the link between Abdurrahman’s religious convictions and identity and his secular public role understood, then it is impossible to really understand who Abdurrahman is.

One of the most clearly understood aspects of Abdurrahman is that he stands for pluralism and tolerance, that he is a defender of minority groups, in particular Indonesian Chinese, but also Indonesian Christians and other groups often scape-goated during both the Suharto regime and in recent months. In other words he is popularly, and rightly understood as a non-chauvinist Muslim intellectual, as somebody who argues for acceptance and the celebration of Indonesia’s plural social reality. What is not widely appreciated, however, is that Abdurrahman is also proudly Muslim. He has a deep and abiding affection both for his traditionalist Islamic culture and for the core message of Islam itself. Moreover, he is a deeply spiritual person for whom the unseen spiritual world is as real as the concrete material world more readily evident to human senses. Not that he is always forthcoming about this conviction, though, for he understands that this is a point of confusion for western or westernized ‘secular’ people.

How is it that somebody, who is so much in love with his religion and the particular religious subcultures that he grew up in, is able also to be genuinely non-chauvinist and pluralistic? One of the popular misconceptions of modern western, or westernized, culture is that it’s only by abandoning dogmatism that one can fully become tolerant. Indeed some would argue, in what might be seen as a typically post modern fashion, that it’s only by abandoning all claims to metaphysical or absolute truth that one can be genuinely tolerant and pluralistic. Consequently, many find it hard to understand how a committed Muslim, or a committed believer in any religion for that matter, can truly be a modern, liberal, figure.

The theme that emerges most clearly in Abdurrahman’s thought is that Islam is a compassionate faith, being essentially tolerant and respectful of difference. For him Islam is both a religion of compassion and tolerance and of justice and fairness. This means that it is quintessentially an egalitarian faith. A faith that fundamentally does not pander to, nor promote, class, ethnic, racial, gender or other divisions in society. For Abdurrahman Wahid, Islam is the faith that acknowledges that, in the eyes of God, all human beings are of equal worth. Significantly this equal status extends just as much to non-Muslims as to Muslims. Part of Abdurrahman Wahid’s basic conviction is that values underlying democracy and liberalism are essentially universal principles. Thus he argues they are as much as applicable in the East as they are in the West. Yet he resists the simplistic argument that this is because Islam was the original source thought of these values and ideas, regarding this to be a simplistic apologetic. Nevertheless, he certainly argues that the basic principles that came out of the enlightenment sit well with the central message of Islam.

What emerges very clearly in Abdurrahman’s thought is the conviction that the religious world view that shaped and gave rise to the enlightenment values of Christian and Jewish Europe parallels in its core vision the message of Islam. In other words, Abdurrahman, like many other progressive Islamic intellectuals in Indonesia, does not problematise the relationship between Islam and the West. Whilst not denying that there are important differences he argues effectively that the central passions and concerns of the Judeo-Christian tradition and of Islam closely parallel each other when it comes to their central value system.

Needless to say then, Abdurrahman, like many other progressive intellectuals, argues that the specifics of state formation, governance and even of modern law are not clearly spelt out in the Qur’an or the Hadith. This is not to say that the principles are not clearly annunciated there but rather that the details of mechanisms of the modern state are not set forth. So for him it is nonsense to talk about forming an Islamic state or doing things in a specifically Islamic way if the only reason for these statements is to create an essentially artificial contrast with the West.

If Abdurrahman’s political thought is so clearly and consistently liberal, and indeed profoundly so, why is it that his recent political behavior and indeed his political behavior over many years has caused such controversy? It is arguable that whilst Abdurrahman has always been a controversial leader, the passage of time does much to explain the wisdom, or occasionally otherwise, of his political approach. Certainly, much of his maneuvering in earlier years can now generally be seen as having arisen out of his pastoral concern for the masses of Nahdlatul Ulama and of Indonesia generally. From the beginning, Abdurrahman was driven by a desire to avoid confrontation between his people and the military and the government of Suharto and by a desire to find a path of compromise or a middle way out of difficult political situations.

This was very clearly demonstrated in 1997 when he sought rapprochement with Suharto after having been hard pressed since 1994. Clearly, at this time he made the decision that nothing more could be gained by resisting Suharto in direct fashion and that if he didn’t take evasive action both he and Nahdlatul Ulama would come under increasing pressure to a dangerous degree. And it now seems reasonably clear that his judgement in this matter was well founded.

Indeed, typically Abdurrahman’s political manoeuvrings only become understandable in hindsight, and most times the rational basis for his often unpredictable and seemingly erratic behavior reveals itself with the passage of time.

Not discounting the usual fallibilities and frailties of human nature, which he most certainly shares with all of us, Abdurrahman’s good intentions can be relied upon absolutely. Throughout his public life he has displayed great political acumen and, of necessity, has always been a political player. Now, as President, he occupies the highest political office in the land. But he is no ordinary politician.

Whilst very much a pragmatic operator ever conscious of the real politick reality that ‘politics is the art of the possible’ Abdurrahman remains a liberal idealist driven by a strong sense of mission. His greatest challenge now ahead of him, it remains to be seen to what extent he can translate his political ideals into reality under what are extremely difficult circumstances. It pays to be realistic, then, in our expectations of him. Optimism and confidence, however, are not out of place either.

Dr Greg Barton is a Senior Lecturer in Religious Studies in the School of Social Inquiry at Deakin University. He is currently writing a biography of Abdurrahman Wahid.

Copyright © AIJAC 1999
Last Updated 3 September, 2001