The present paper is an attempt to describe key monastic structures in Upper Burma of the seventeenth and eighteenth century, analyse the way they worked and what kind of processes were instrumental in their development. This documentation effort is based on fragmentary factual evidence mined from diverse sources, such as monastic biographies, religious chronicles, colophons of Buddhist texts, etc. As the sources of information are quite limited, the results of investigation are intrinsically provisional and open to reinterpretation. However, as so far there was no attempt to describe how Burmese monasticism functioned as a system during the period in question, the paper seeks to fill in this lacuna and provide a frame of reference for further discussion. The paper also integrates this description with arguments made in existing scholarship and suggests a number of revisions that position Burmese monasticism as a highly dynamic social reality.

The paper has the following structure. As surviving evidence limits the discussion to elite monasticism, I present a summary description of the court saṅgha in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, showing that it paradoxically combined exclusivity (limited access, specific mechanisms of reproduction, etc.) with openness and so was in a number of ways connected with monastic communities beyond the court. Then I outline the rise of extensive “non-central” monastic networks that at least since the early eighteenth century functioned as a viable and thriving alternative to court monasticism and developed a number of competencies that allowed them to successfully compete with older, established court communities. Finally, I try to analyse the factors that contributed to the development of such communities, discuss why they constitute a unique phenomenon, and compare Burmese monastic networks that I have identified with contemporary monasticism in other areas where textual Buddhism was mostly based on Pāli sources.

BURMESE COURT MONASTICISM IN THE SEVENTEENTH AND EIGHTEENTH CENTURIES

The period from the seventeenth century onwards is the time when more detailed evidence on Burmese monasticism becomes available. While prior to that period the research is based mostly on archaeological and inscriptional data that are either too general or too fragmentary, the burst of literary activity in Burma since the seventeenth century provided new types of sources that allow tracing the life and activities of particular persons and communities in a more consistent manner and within longer time-frames.

The lowland territories of Southeast Asia are composed of a variety of localities, each with its own physical and spiritual characteristics. As various realms formed across the region, growing political forces had to bring these scattered localities together under their central umbrellas in order to gain access to the resources, human and material, of these localities. In the process, emerging rulers had to deal with a great variety of local spiritual forces as the kings developed their central ideologies and royal cults. Here we examine the role of Buddhist monarchies in this process, focusing on Đại Việt and the reign of Lý Nhân-tông (r. 1072–1127) in Thăng-long (Hà Nội). Against the background of other Buddhist monarchies across Southeast Asia, we perceive Vietnamese kingship through its texts (chronicles, biographies, cult tales, inscriptions) and the variety of Buddhist temples that existed there.

MANDALAS AND LOCAL CULTS

I approach this study with the belief that localities varied in their characteristics and spiritual beliefs and need to be treated as scattered singular units interacting to greater or lesser degrees with each other. Dominance fluctuated among them depending on the contingencies of the time, human and material. Constructing hierarchies required the human ability to apply power and belief to these scattered localities, to link the localities to greater concentrations of resources and spiritually to the cosmos at large, to join them to the world of the royal court. Gradually, through the first millennium CE, out of these scattered localities there formed mandalas, cultural and political self-identifying groupings, that saw themselves opposed to other mandalas. We see this in terms, inter alia, of groupings called Việt, Champa, Kambujadesa, Rmannadesa, and Mranma across the mainland.

This pattern may be seen in the Khmer territory (as defined by inscriptions) through the middle of the first millennium. Michael Vickery has described the situation of localities there with their leaders, the pon and the mratan, and their spirits called kpon and kamratan. While, by the time these inscriptions appeared, there was already the beginning of an admixture of Indic elements in the local societies, the inscriptions do seem to reflect elements of the society that was receiving and accepting the new elements.

INTRODUCTION

As testified to by the extant written sources and archaeological remains, Śivaism was the dominant religion in Java and Bali. However, Śivaism coexisted alongside Buddhism for more than a millennium, from circa the fifth century CE through the late fifteenth century in Java, and on Bali until today. The coexistence of the two religions eventually gave rise to phenomena of confrontation, dialectic and integration that have attracted scholarly attention since the late nineteenth century. The most influential studies have sanctioned the view that the variety of “Hinduism” widespread in Java and Bali was fundamentally syncretic in character, forming a blend of Śaiva and Bauddha elements. What has been generally termed the “religion of Śiva-Buddha” or “Hindu-Buddhist religion” (in Indonesian Agama Siwa-Buda or Agama Hindu-Buda), and ascribed to the Hindu-Buddhist era (jaman Hindu-Buda) of Javanese history, has been characterized mostly in terms of “identity”, “syncretism”, “parallelism” or “coalition”. Whether the emphasis be laid on equality, integration or symbiosis between the two systems, their respective deities or their paramount goals, the dynamics shaping the resulting “cult of Śiva-Buddha” have often been regarded as having been subjected to distinctive local features that set this tradition apart from the more rigidly sectarian South Asian traditions from which it originated.

Even though our understanding of (Tantric) Śivaism and (Tantric) Buddhism in the Indian Subcontinent and Tibet has improved dramatically over the last two decades, the majority of the most recent studies touching upon these religious traditions in Indonesia appear to be insufficiently aware of these developments. It seems thus worthwhile to discuss once again the relationship between Śivaism and Buddhism in the Subcontinent and in the Archipelago from a comparative perspective, in the hope that this approach will stimulate a cross-fertilization between the disciplines of Indology and Indonesian studies.

The basic idea that my paper tries to convey is that the nature of the equation of the paramount principles of Śivaism and Buddhism as expressed by a number of Old Javanese sources from the Singhasari-Majapahit period has not always been correctly grasped, and that alleged instances of “Javanese syncretism” should now be challenged.

I. INTRODUCTION

In presenting my paper on the hoard of scrap bronze from Kutei at the conference on Buddhist Dynamics in Pre-modern Southeast Asia at ISEAS in Singapore in 2011, my intention was simply to make known the existence of the remnants of these mostly badly corroded and broken images. Although I was aware that these remains could be of some considerable art historical and archaeological significance, I did not feel that I had sufficient command of the subject of mediaeval bronze imagery to discuss the stylistic affinities or the dating of such materials in detail or to do more than introduce them to those who might have an interest in such artefacts. I am most grateful, therefore, to all those who have encouraged me to delve further into the subject of Buddhist bronze imagery and for the advice that I have been afforded. Any errors that remain in this essay are, of course, my own.

The hoard of bronze scrap was reputedly recovered at Muara Kaman, Kutei subdistrict, now in Kutei Kartanegara Regency, East Kalimantan province of Indonesia at some time during the late 1980s or early 1990s. During a visit to Samarinda, the provincial capital in 1994, I was kindly allowed to examine and to photograph some twenty-three objects then in the possession of an antique dealer, Haji Mohammad Bakri Udin. Whether or not these items are still to be seen in Samarinda at present time, or whether they had formed part of a larger hoard of Buddhist bronzes said to have been recovered from the Kutei area about the same time, or were found separately I do not know. The various fragments, although not seen in situ at the time of their recovery do, however, appear to be of sufficient importance to warrant a record being made of their existence.

I have also added notes on other bronze Buddhist images reputedly found in the Kutei area, including the magnificent bronze from Kuta Bangun, unfortunately damaged in a fire at the Colonial Exhibition in Paris in 1931; a small metal Buddha fragment from Sanggata further north on the coast of East Kalimantan and also the major bronze Buddha from Si Kendeng on the Karama river in neighbouring western Sulawesi (Celebes) to try to provide a broader setting for the finds.

The importance of a key document for the history of Buddhism in Cambodia was recognized long ago. This is the inscription of Vat Sithor (inventoried as K. 111), which recounts the career and accomplishments of a Buddhist teacher named Kīrtipaṇḍita and includes a royal proclamation (ajñā) in support of the practice of Buddhism. In an article published in 1883, Émile Sénart discussed this inscription, by way of background stating that the later Buddhism of northern India had been influenced heavily by Śaivism. “The purohita is the Brahmanic priest of the house of the king,” he wrote, appropriating the voice of the Vat Sithor inscription. “Is it the intent to suppress this position? By no means, but his duties will be modified. He will become ‘versed in the knowledge of letters and of Buddhist ceremonies’, he will bathe the image of the Buddha on festival occasions, he will replace hymns with Buddhist teachings, the Vedas with Buddhist chants.”

Since 1883, the Vat Sithor inscription has been studied only intermittently, and there are surely many learned Buddhologists who have never heard of it. The issues Sénart's comments raise are still alive today. How much of Kīrtipaṇḍita's outlook is due to the intrinsic nature of the Buddhism he espoused, how much to the constraints placed upon religious life in Cambodia in the 970s? Such matters will not be resolved in this paper, which merely concerns “Aspects of Buddhism” (“Some Minor Contributions” would be an equally valid title). A successful comprehensive study of the tenth century necessitates the careful weighing of evidence, both art historical and epigraphical, and will — eventually — depend on contributions from scholars with varied interests and training.

The tenth century is intrinsically important: this is when the patterns of life in Angkor were becoming established. The nature of the evidence, however, differs somewhat from that which survives from later centuries. The tenth-century inscriptions — like the Vat Sithor inscription — reveal a good deal about the nature of the Buddhism practised, but the art is not especially abundant, and there are no great surviving temple complexes. In later centuries, the situation was not the same.

I. INTRODUCTION

Candi Gentong is located in Jambumente village, Trowulan district, Mojokerto, East Java. The structure is made of two parts, which are called Candi Gentong I and Candi Gentong II. The latter is located about 25 metres north of Candi Gentong I.

The existence of Candi Gentong was first announced by J.W.B Wardenaar. He included it in the report of his visit to Trowulan when he was reporting back to Stamford Raffles as Lieutenant Governor of Java (1811–16) on 7 October 1815. In the report Wardenaar wrote about the “plan van Madjapahit” (plan of Majapahit). In 1890, R.D.M Verbeek also wrote regarding the “plan van Madjaphit” which included the existence of archeological remains of the Majapahit Kingdom at Trowulan as follows: (A) a temple of bricks called Candi Muteran by the inhabitants, (B) a heap of bricks which probably came from the ruins of a temple, (C) a temple of bricks called Candi Brahu, (D) a temple called Candi Gentong which was entirely ruined, (E) a temple called Candi Gedong, (F) a temple called Candi Tengah, (G) a gate called Gapura Jati Pasar by the inhabitants (it is currently called Gapura Wringin Lawang), (H) a gate called Bajang Ratu, (I) the Joko Dolok statue (currently placed at Taman Apsari, Surabaya), (K) a large statue of a giant (rākṣasa) called Menak Jinggo and a statue of woman, (L) Ratu Putri Campa's grave (1448 CE), (M) the Segaran Pool, (N) Siti Hinggil (high land), (O) an umpak (stone base/pedestal that formed part of a house), and (P) a place which the inhabitants called Kedaton.

When Candi Gentong was rediscovered it was already in ruins. The only remaining original structure was its base. The ruins formed a huge pile that looked like a gentong (large earthenware bowl for water), and because of this the inhabitants called it Candi Gentong. The shape of Candi Gentong I is square with the entry point located at the west. It is comprised of a central brick structure surrounded by two other structures (see Figure 4.1). Of Candi Gentong II only the base of the candi and its pit remain. The shape of Candi Gentong II is also square. Its central brick structure is surrounded by eight smaller structures located at eight points of the compass, but the one to the north has already vanished.

INTRODUCTION

Karl Marx famously said that men make their own history, but not under circumstances that they choose. Rather, they must act within existing circumstances that are “transmitted from the past”. Joko Widodo (Jokowi) represents a new breed of Indonesian politicians, and is in fact a creation arising from the newly decentralized polity of the post- Suharto period. Despite this new situation, Jokowi must act within a complex political and institutional context. And, in the coming few weeks before he assumes office, several of the institutional junctures that Indonesia will traverse are not within his control. The sum of these events will largely determine the effectiveness of his administration.

THE ROAD TO THE PRESIDENCY

In July 2014, Joko Widodo faced off against Prabowo Subianto in the Indonesian presidential election. Touted as the most polarizing presidential election that the country has ever seen, the close and fiercely contested race pitted a member of the country's old political elite against someone new and fresh, but with solid administrative credentials. Jokowi started as a small business owner from the town of Solo (Central Java), and went on to become Mayor of that city and then Governor of Jakarta. Prabowo, in contrast, comes from a line of technocrats and had a successful career in the military before turning to politics. After an intense campaign and election, the General Election Commission announced that Jokowi had won 53.15 per cent of votes against Prabowo's 46.85 per cent on 22 July.

Alleging vote-rigging and fraud, the Prabowo camp decided to contest the elections before the Constitutional Court. In August, following a short and succinct review of the plaintiff's complaints however, the Court rejected his requests to cancel Jokowi's victory and conduct a re-vote. While Prabowo has yet to officially concede defeat, influential members of his coalition — including Hashim Djojohadikusumo, his brother, and Hatta Rajasa, his vice-presidential candidate and leader of PAN — have acknowledged Jokowi's victory.

Jokowi's presidency will mark the first time since Indonesia's independence that a locally elected politician assumes national office. However, despite his personal popularity, political capital, and goodwill, Jokowi will have to manoeuvre a number of key tests that will determine the course and impact of his office.

THE TRANSITION

While Jokowi may be riding a wave of considerable momentum, he will need to use his political capital wisely.

INTRODUCTION

On 25 September 2014, the Indonesian People's Representative Council (Dewan Perwakilan Rakyat, DPR) passed legislation ending the direct election of governors, bupati (regent/district head) and mayors. This new legislation returns the electoral process for these positions to that which was employed during the New Order period and until 2004. Under this old-new process, the municipal, district and provincial legislative councils (Dewan Perwakilan Rakyat Daerah, DPRD) will be the ones voting for these positions. The results of the vote will then be sent to the President, who will then appoint these officials. Significantly, the positions of bupati and mayor have become much more important over the last ten years as a result of the various decentralization laws, which allocate substantial budgetary powers to the legislative councils and administrations at the municipal and district levels.

The passing of this law was the result of an assertive campaign in parliament by the Red and White Coalition (Koalisi Merah Putih, KMP), comprising of the parties that nominated Prabowo Subianto as candidate in the recent presidential election. In the election, Subianto lost by a narrow margin to Joko Widodo — 47 per cent to 53 per cent, a difference of 8 million votes out of 190 million. Subianto was nominated by his own party, Gerindra, Golkar, the Prosperous Justice Party (Partai Keadilan Sejahtera, PKS), the National Mandate Party (Partai Amanat Nasional, PAN) and United Development Party (Partai Persatuan Pembangunan, PPP). Widodo was nominated by the Indonesian Democratic Party – Struggle (Partai Demokrasi Indonesia Perjuangan, PDI-P), the Nasional Democratic Party (Nasdem), the National Awakening Party (Partai Kebangkitan Bangsa, PKB), the Peoples’ Conscience Party (Partai Hati Nurani Rakyat, Hanura) and the Unity and Justice Party of Indonesia (Partai Keadilan dan Persatuan Indonesia, PKPI). The passing of the law will very likely deliver governor positions to KMP nominees in thirty-one out of thirty-four provinces. Should this come about, it would provide an additional strong platform from which the KMP can oppose the Widodo–PDI-P–led government and try to implement its own policy agenda.

Another party with a substantial number of seats is the Democratic Party (Partai Demokrat, PD), headed by incumbent President Yudhoyono. Most of the PD members walked out during the vote for the bill, effectively abstaining, which gave the KMP a majority in the parliament.

INTRODUCTION

As the largest Muslim-majority country and the fourth most populous nation in the world, Indonesia has often been cited as an example of Islam, democracy and economic development coexisting. However, while the country has long been hailed for its tolerant form of Islam, the pluralistic model of Indonesian society has been threatened by the growth of religious intolerance in recent years. While members from the Jemaah Islamiyah have been hunted down, shot by the police or thrown into prison, the Indonesian authorities under President Yudhoyono have been much less adamant in protecting the rights of religious minorities and bringing to justice the various radical groups that have perpetrated violent acts against them.

On 9 July 2014 Indonesians voted in their fifth president since the fall of the Suharto regime in 1998. This article investigates the prospects of the new Jokowi-Kalla administration in light of problems of growing sectarianism in Indonesia. Indeed, with the election of Joko Widodo, Indonesia may have avoided a possible return to authoritarian rule, but also a further increase of tensions around religious issues. The president-elect's rival, Prabowo Subianto is known to have had links with radical elements of Indonesian Islam since the mid-1990s. It is therefore not surprising that, during the campaign, Islamist parties and radical groups threw their weight behind the Prabowo-Hatta ticket, hoping that their demand for a greater Islamization of Indonesian society would be accepted. As an example, the Islamic Defenders Front (FPI, Front Pembela Islam), while first hesitant to support Prabowo, later called to vote for him, hoping that he would favour the growth of local sharia by-laws (perda syari'ah). With the Constitutional Court's decision to confirm Jokowi's victory on 21 August, it will never be known whether an elected Prabowo would have turned his back on his Islamist and neo-fundamentalist supporters or, on the contrary, if he would have bought social peace by giving in to their demands.

However, what is certain now is that Joko Widodo and Jusuf Kalla face an important and difficult task in preserving one of the county's main assets — its pluralist and tolerant model — while carefully managing the possible tensions created by the rapidly changing religious landscape of Indonesian society.

INTRODUCTION

The two sides competing in the Indonesian Presidential election to be held on 9 July — Prabowo Subianto and his Vice Presidential candidate Hatta Rajasa against Joko Widodo (Jokowi) and his running mate Jusuf Kalla — have both submitted their coalition's platforms to the General Elections Commission (KPU).

Whoever becomes president will face the same challenges that outgoing President Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono's (SBY) has been trying to address through his economic policies. These challenges are reflected in the targets set by the 2014 state budget, which are: (i) to reduce poverty to 9.0–10.5 per cent (currently 11.47 per cent); (ii) to create new jobs (1 per cent economic growth can generate 200,000 new jobs); (iii) to decrease unemployment to 5.7–5.9 per cent (currently 6.25 per cent); and (iv) to decrease income inequality (the Gini coefficient is currently 0.413).

Prabowo's economic strategy is to expand fiscal spending and invest in a range of new development projects with the goal of increasing economic growth to around 7–10 per cent in the first presidential term (2014–19). At the same time, he aims to reduce the Gini ratio to about 0.31. On the other hand, Jokowi proposes to reduce Indonesia's poverty rate to about 5–6 per cent by 2019 by providing free education and skills improvement for the poor.

This article evaluates Prabowo's and Jokowi's proposals in four economic sectors, namely agriculture, energy, industry and labour, which are important for achieving food security, energy security, and enhancing national competitiveness.

GIVING PROMISES

Prabowo proposes a number of new public spending initiatives in his economic platform and plans to increase the public spending-to-GDP-ratio to 19 per cent of GDP by 2019. (The ratio of government spending to GDP during the SBY administration was about 9 per cent.) This means that government spending will increase dramatically under Prabowo's administration, as indicated by his specific proposals. For instance, he plans to increase public investment in basic infrastructure by Rp1,400 trillion (US$98 billion) between 2015 and 2019. His proposal would allocate funds to all public elementary and secondary schools as well as Islamic schools (pesantrens or madrasahs) in Indonesia, amounting to Rp150 million (US$12,900) per school.

The fourth democratic elections in post-reformasi Indonesia held in 2014 proved most exciting. The country showed that it had with great success institutionalized the policies and initiatives taken within the democratization process that got underway in 2008. Most notably, it is the decentralization and the implementation of direct local elections that had “given birth” to Indonesia's seventh president, Joko Widodo or Jokowi.

But by the same token, the country continues to suffer from the dysfunctionality of the institutions and the persisting socio-economic problems. As such, Indonesia's democratic progress remains a unique one, where although elections are free and civil society is vigilant in keeping government in check, many setbacks linger. Corruption is still rampant and parties continue neglecting formulating clear platforms and policies, and instead heavily on political figures to attract votes.

The collection of articles in this volume represent close-up snapshots of numerous actors and the many issues arising during the 2014 elections. Together, the contributions demonstrate various dynamics that Indonesian voters were faced with even before the real campaign had started.

To be sure, the election of Joko Widodo as governor of Jakarta in 2012 brought a profound change that clearly influenced the subsequent campaigning methods and mechanisms adopted by parties and by individual candidates.

Several articles show how political parties struggled to improve their standing in voters’ eyes, amidst the various scandals and leadership problems that embroiled many of them more than a year before the elections. Non-mainstream actors such as the Islamic Defenders Front (FPI) also receive special attention with a contribution highlighting how these, despite their hostile stand against democracy, acted nevertheless, as vote brokers, through their manoeuvres.

Several shed light on the campaign dynamics at the grassroots level. The new trends and realities that parties and candidates faced that year were especially imperative to investigate — generally, parties took a much less determinant role while candidates occupied the centre stage. As was to be expected perhaps, old practices such as vote-buying became more sophisticated, and will most likely continue be an important feature in Indonesian elections in years to come.

The votes cast for the various parties also revealed new developments that Indonesia enthusiasts should take note of.

INTRODUCTION

The usual path to become a presidential candidate in Indonesia is to be nominated by a political party or combination of parties that have either won 20 per cent of the national vote in the parliamentary elections or control 25 per cent of the seats in the House of Representatives (DPR). Some parties already have made clear choices: Golkar (Party of Functional Groups) has nominated ex-Suharto loyalist and tycoon Aburizal Bakrie (although former vice-president Yusuf Kalla still lurks in the wings as a possible challenger); Gerindra (Great Indonesia Movement Party) decided on ex-Suharto general and semi-tycoon Prabowo Subianto; Hanura (People's Conscience Party) nominated ex-Suharto general Wiranto; and Nasdem (National Democrat Party) chose ex-Suharto loyalist and tycoon Surya Paloh. The lead party in the ruling coalition, the Democrat Party (PD), has not yet decided on its candidate although it has now moved to bring former General Pramono Edhie Wibowo, into the leadership.

The party that does have a chance of winning 20 per cent of the popular vote is the PDI-P (Indonesian Democratic Party–Struggle), but it has also yet to determine a candidate. In the past, it has nominated Megawati Sukarnoputri. There is also a possibility that the PDI-P could nominate the current governor of Jakarta, the popular Joko Widodo.

However, an analysis of candidate choice must take into consideration the steady alienation of the majority of the population from existing political processes and actors.

“REFORMASI” AND POLITICAL ALIENATION

During the 1990s, peaking in 1997–98, a movement developed demanding reformasi whose main demands were the departure of President Suharto, withdrawal of the army from politics, liberalization of repressive political laws, and the ending of KKN (Corruption, Collusion and Nepotism). The sentiment of this movement reflected a desire for a shift away from an authoritarian system which defended a self-seeking elite to a political system where the rakyat (the common people) would be listened to and its interests promoted over that of the elite. It was a movement strong enough to dislodge an authoritarian leader defended by the military.

INTRODUCTION

Since 16 March, Indonesia has been in full campaign mode for its 2014 elections. This year's are the fourth legislative and the third direct presidential elections conducted after the country underwent its transition to democracy in 1998. The official campaign period for the national, provincial, and district-level legislative elections will continue until 5 April. After a cooling off period lasting a few days (minggu tenang), polling will take place on 9 April.

New methods are shaping the 2014 campaigns, especially at the grassroots level. First, parties are showing preference for the use of blusukan conducted by candidates to meet with individual voters. Literally meaning going through places in which passage is difficult (crowds, scrubs, narrow alleys, etc.), blusukan is now seen as an essential mode of campaign. This method is supposed to help voters to get to know their candidate at a more personal level. Voters can look for particular personal attributes, while candidates can show that they genuinely care about individual voters’ concerns. Second, although money politics remains an integral part of the campaign approach, the way parties rely on it has changed. The cost of mobilizing voters for mass rallies (pawai) have become more expensive, and parties are now more careful about spending the money on them. Consequently, there are now less rallies and they are only reserved for visits by high-profile leaders. Furthermore, as most parties would be doing the same thing, any advantage that any party may gain from luring supporters with money is cancelled out. As such, money no longer has the kind of power it used to have for buying votes. The role that money will play on the polling day remains unclear.

THE INCREASING POPULARITY OF BLUSUKAN

In past elections, parties preferred a mass mobilization of members and supporters. They typically held mass rallies to draw supporters, usually by staging live music and other kinds of entertainment. This year things have clearly changed. Although parties still conduct these rallies, they are fewer in numbers, and are smaller. Rather, the most interesting aspect in this year's campaign is how the methods generally adopted by most political parties and legislative candidates (calon legislative or calegs) to reach potential voters within their legislative districts (daerah pemilihan or dapil) have changed.

INTRODUCTION

“Democracy is more dangerous than pig's meat!” declared Habib Rizieq Shihab, leader of the Front Pembela Islam (FPI; Defenders of Islam Front) during a speech at a local branch in West Java in April 2013. According to Rizieq, embracing democracy was tantamount to abandoning fundamentals of the Islamic faith, posing a far greater threat to the spiritual integrity of the ummah than the consumption of forbidden substances such as pork. “If we consume pig”, he stated, “we are polluted, but can still be returned to a state of purity if we cleanse ourselves seven times. If we eat it we've sinned, however we haven't become an infidel.”

Democracy, however, he argued, marks an irredeemable point of no return. “If democracy is fully embraced by Muslims, and the laws of Allah in turn ignored, then they become apostates (murtad). Democracy can transform us into infidels”.

Established in 1998, and initially subsidized by the military and police as part of a street-level militia mobilized against the student-led reform movement, the FPI has now for over fifteen years expressed “alarm” and outrage at liberal democracy, representing it as a threat to Islamic practice and belief. Many in Indonesia consider it the latest manifestation of political thuggery, albeit wearing religious robes rather than the camouflage fatigues of former regime henchmen such as the Pemuda Pancasila, but with far greater autonomy from its patrons; itself a product of the greater freedom of organization available in the post-New Order period. Its mission statement, the Quranic edict of amar makruf nahi mungkar (to command the good and forbid the bad), is framed as a necessary defensive response to the excesses unleashed by Indonesia's post-authoritarian transition. As one FPI leader expressed it, “democratic reform opened the door for change, the problem however is that just about anyone or anything has been able to walk through that door…pornographers, homosexuals, apostates, all manner of heresy and deviancy”. The door of democratic reform, in their opinion, needs to be closed shut.

Despite its unambiguous rejection of electoral democracy as being antithetical to Islam, and as a virtual “pathway to hell”, hardliners and conservatives such as the FPI have nonetheless proved adept in playing a particular kind of politics shaped by the broader framework of Indonesia's decentralized electoral system.

In February 2013, leaders of Indonesia's two major political parties were detained on graft suspicions. The arrests of Partai Keadilan Sejahtera's (PKS, Prosperous Justice Party) president Luthfi Hasan Ishaaq, and Partai Demokrat's (PD, Democratic Party) chairman Anas Urbaningrum have jeopardized their respective parties’ electoral prospects. While Luthfi has been arrested for suspicions over special favours for certain beef importers, Anas — previously linked to other corruption cases — has allegedly received a luxury car as a bribe for fixing a government construction contract for the Hambalang sports centre project.

The arrests followed a string of other high-profile party politicians who are facing corruption charges. Indonesia's Corruption Eradication Commission (Komisi Pemberantasan Korupsi, KPK) have previously detained Andi Mallarangeng (former Sports and Youth Affairs Minister), and jailed Angelina Sondakh (PD's deputy secretary general) and Muhammad Nazaruddin (PD's former treasurer). Late last year, the Jakarta Corruption Court has also sentenced Wa Ode Nurhayati, a former member of the House of Representatives budgetary committee from the Partai Amanat Nasional (National Mandate Party).

For the parties involved, a lot is riding on the back of these cases. With the 2014 general election looming, parties need to figure out how to react and manage these crises. Internal conflicts and organizational problems also have to be addressed urgently. More broadly, these cases highlight the fact that the costs of party politics are high in Indonesia, and the systemic problems of party corruption needs urgent attention from the parties and the state.

PKS: THE CHALLENGE TO STAY “CLEAN” AND ISLAMIC

Born of the Jemaat Tarbiyah (Education Movement), PK (Partai Keadilan, Justice Party), the predecessor of PKS, was founded in 1998. After failing to gain a minimum of 2 per cent of the national votes in 1999, which was necessary to qualify for the next elections, the party was re-constituted as PKS in 2003 to run in the 2004 elections. As the largest Islamic party in Indonesia, which prides itself as “clean and caring”, the PKS also has impressive organizational prowess, rivalled only by Partai Golkar, which has been dominant over the thirty-two years of the New Order's rule. PKS’ young, committed, and technology-savvy cadres are the backbone of the frequent and wide-ranging activities at the grassroots.