Reflection #3

This week our group reflected on the intersection of politics, minority religions and society in Indonesia's early years.

Reflection #3

The story of Amir Sjarifoeddin, a member of Indonesia’s first cabinet, and Indonesia’s second Prime Minister, is a complicated one.  He was born into a wealthy Muslim Batak family in 1907, and was educated in the Netherlands.  While in the Netherlands he studied with the Theosophical Society, which advocates the oneness of humanity and the comparative study of diverse philosophical and faith traditions.  Amir received a law degree from the Rechtshoogeschool in Batavia (now Jakarta), where he was active in secular nationalist endeavors.  On the occasion of Amir’s conversion to Christianity at age 24, his Mother committed suicide.  Later, Amir courted a Muslim woman, Djaenah Harahap, in violation of cultural taboos on interreligious dating and marriage.  Djaenah was subsequently baptized prior to her marriage to Amir.   Together they had six children, of which three daughters survived to adulthood.

Amir continued his political activism while practicing law and working in the civil service.  Over the years, he belonged to various socialist parties and the communist party.  He was distantly affiliated with a Protestant party at one point in time.  Amir was imprisoned by the Dutch colonizers when he was 26 for nationalist activities.  He also was imprisoned and tortured by the Japanese for his politics during World War II.  Always, Amir based his political work on Christian notions of radical inclusiveness and the biblical Shalom—being attuned to the well being of all.  Amir was “primarily interested in symbols that can bring about a new solidarity (191).”  The source of his idealism, he told activists, was his Christianity (191).   “Amir raised issues of Indonesian-ness asking why that should not include the non-indigenous Chinese, Arabs, or Indo-Europeans (Sjarifoeddin 1939b) (131).”  He was committed to education (134).  “The deepest meaning of Indonesia’s democracy movement, Amir wrote, was to create national cohesion through political participation (138).”  He advocated for feminism and women’s political participation (140).

But building consensus under the rubric of  national unity is a tricky process.  Old religious and ethnic hatreds came into play.  Some Muslims distrusted Amir as a Christian.  Certain Christians distrusted Amir’s communism.  And then, some Communists did not understand his Christianity.  As Prime Minister, Amir was unable to build a consensus to consolidate control of the armed forces and quell continued social unrest.  He resigned as Prime Minister in January 1948.   Amir was executed at age 41 in December 1948, after the communist party with which he affiliated attempted a local coup.

Amir’s detractors sought to reduce him to a sound-bite—to a simple concept that could then be used to demonize him.  The groups to which he belonged were viewed in false ahistorical and homogenous terms.  Fear and hatred were used to consolidate power.  Today, we continue to use these same tactics worldwide to marginalize “the other.”  Perhaps it’s time to let go of our reductionist gestures, and let the world unfold in a complex and marvelous unity of interdependence.