Keywords

1 Introduction

On a sunny day in December 2018, I visited the Pesantren Waria al-Fatah in Yogyakarta. Among many pesantren (traditional Islamic boarding schools) in Indonesia, Pesantren Waria al-Fatah is unique because its students are all waria (male-bodied individuals who identify themselves as women). Waria in Indonesia face challenges in everyday life as many of them are socially excluded (see Fitriah 2020), even though there is historically a diverse transgender heritage in Indonesia, such as the bissu, androgynous shamans who are neither male nor female (Davies 2010). State agencies exclude them in several ways. For example, only two genders are possible on the identity card, male and female. The decisive factor for this differentiation is the sex at birth; transgender people must also carry this after their gender transition. Organisations with the name “waria” in their title have been forced to change their name, such as the Waria Association of Surabaya, which had to change its name to Surabaya Organisation for Diversity (Fitriyah 2020).

Fig. 3.1
A photograph of a gazebo with a mattress, cushions, and stool inside. The board in the background exhibits text in a foreign language. The surrounding has plants and flowers.

Pesantren Waria Al-Fatah Yogyakarta. Photo credit: Anwar Kholid, 27 November 2022

At the pesantren I met Ibu Shinta Ratri, one of its founders.1 Established in 2008, the pesantren has two primary objectives. First, it serves as a space for waria to learn about Islam. The more than 40 students usually meet once a week on Sundays at 3 pm to recite the Quran, discuss religious and social issues and pray together under the guidance of an ustadz (male Islamic teacher). Second, Pesantren al-Fatah aims to become a platform for the waria to advocate for themselves. Besides building discourses for their spiritual peace, the pesantren also become a place to educate the surrounding community about waria. It serves as a social sign to counter assumptions and stigmas that put transgender people at odds with Islam.

This pesantren is a thorn in the side of Islamist forces, which became particularly clear when the Islamic extremist organisation Front Jihad Islam (FJI) attacked on 19th February 2016. Due to the attack, the police and village apparatus forcibly closed the pesantren to avoid further unrest. When I met Ibu Shinta, she told me about the closure of her pesantren:

The FJI once raided us in February 2016. They forced us to close because, according to them, God only created men and women. If waria want to worship, we must first repent (bertobat), back to our nature as a man, and then we may pray. That is what they wanted … of course, we reported this case to the police, but they did not investigate the incident. It seems like the government and the police just let it go. Then 2 or 3 days after the incident, we were brought to the village hall. Community leaders were invited, including Pak RT, Pak RW, and several representatives of Muhammadiyah. Maybe because this is a Muhammadiyah village, they were invited to witness the closure of our pesantren. At that time, I could only come with my ustadz to the meeting. That is where we were tried morally. There is no written evidence that we were closed, but in essence, the Pesantren al-Fatah was declared closed that night by FJI, the police, and the village apparatus.2

The closure of Pesantren al-Fatah was a result of the criminalisation of LGBT people.3 In early 2016, a wave of hatred against gender and sexual minorities swept Indonesia. Many scholars describe this event as a sexual moral panic (Hegarty 2022; Rodríguez and Murtagh 2022; Thajib 2022; Wijaya 2022; Wieringa 2019). All forms of non-normative gender and sexuality were framed under the acronym of LGBT and then portrayed as a threat to the state, nation and religion. Various parties, including politicians, religious leaders, academics, and journalists, constructed and disseminated this wave of hatred and stigma.

Anti-LGBT sentiment in Indonesia has been cultivated primarily through the construction of dualities that pit them against Indonesia and Islam. Through these constructions, the power relationship between the majority (Muslim and heterosexuals) and the minority (LGBT people) is established. They create a hierarchy in which the majority becomes superior to the minority, leading to the marginalisation and dehumanisation of the disadvantaged group, which is evident in the context of LGBT people in Indonesia.

Islamic organisations take an active role in the criminalisation campaign of LGBT. Their main argument is that homosexuality and transgender identity are against Islamic norms and threatens the morality of the nation and future generations. In addition to being campaigners, these organisations also provide religious legitimacy in the discourse on LGBT criminalisation. However, their intolerance is often accompanied by affective care and concern. They openly criticise reactions that violate civil rights and show cruelty to LGBT people, such as violence by police or fundamentalist groups. Referring to the character of Islam as a religion of peace, Islamic organisations prohibit violence and discrimination against LGBT people. They argue that the behaviour is condemned, not the person (Muhammadiyah.or.id 2022). More than that, some foster equal dialogue and cooperation with LGBT communities.

Scholarly literature specifically addressing the stance of Islamic organisations on LGBT issues in Indonesia is scarce. This chapter, therefore, makes a contribution to this issue. It addresses the following question: How have Indonesia’s most influential Muslim mass organisations Muhammadiyah and Nahdlatul Ulama displayed an ambivalent attitude towards LGBT people between criminalisation and caring? To examine this ambivalence, I draw on insights from the discourse of criminalisation of non-normative gender and sexuality in Indonesia (Hegarty 2022; Wieringa 2019) and the discourse of affection and care to soften the violence against gender and sexual minorities (Thajib 2022; Rodríguez 2022). Methodologically, I base my analysis on interviews and desktop research. I conducted interviews with activists of Muhammadiyah and NU and members of the LGBT community in 2018 and 2019. I collected the grassroots data in Yogyakarta.

2 Making Sense of LGBT in the Indonesian Context

In this article, I employ the term LGBT as a political term to describe a group of people with non-normative genders and sexualities who are often discriminated against and persecuted in Indonesia. Nonetheless, it is necessary to understand more deeply how this term is used in popular discourse in Indonesia.

The term LGBT stands for lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender. It includes both sexual orientation and gender identity. Lesbian and gay refer to individuals who are romantically, emotionally and sexually attracted to the same sex and gender. Bisexual refers to individuals who are romantically, emotionally and sexually attracted to multiple sexes or genders. Meanwhile, transgender refers to an individual whose gender identity or expression differs from that typically associated with their assigned sex at birth. Thus, most simply, LGBT is a term for individuals based on their sexual orientation (LGB) and gender identity (T).

While the terms to identify non-normative genders and sexualities, such as wadam (hermaphrodite, transvestite), which then changed to waria, gay, lesbi and tomboi, have been used in Indonesia since the 1980s (Boellstorff 2007; Blackwood 2010), the specific use of the acronym LGBT is relatively new for many Indonesians. It began to appear in public discussions around 2014.4 Afterward, the sexual moral panic that engulfed Indonesia in 2016 popularised the term LGBT in the country.

Due to its foreign origin, there has been confusion and vagueness among many Indonesians in understanding the term LGBT. Instead of its complexity, LGBT has been viewed as deviant sexual behaviour primarily associated with same-sex sexual relationships (i.e. anal intercourse between men). Moreover, LGBT is also often equalised to zina (adultery). As Arnez and Nisa (2023, this volume, chapter 2) explain, zina is considered a severe sexual offense in Indonesia. Therefore, in this light, LGBT is perceived as a gross violation of religious and social norms. Because LGBT is understood as deviant behaviour, many believe it should be disciplined, changed and corrected. Thus, many Indonesians believe being LGBT is not a problem if it is not expressed and practiced. In other words, LGBT, as discussed within the Indonesian mainstream discourse, is not about being but about doing.

LGBT is not only interpreted as deviant sexual behaviour, but also with political movements to promote same-sex marriage, which is associated with Western culture. Anti-LGBT sentiment is usually based on fear of attempts to legalise same-sex marriage in Indonesia. In this context, there are two lines of arguments to denounce LGBT. The first line serves to cater to nationalist sentiments by portraying LGBT as a proxy of Western culture that seeks to destroy Indonesian culture and morality. In this narrative, rejecting LGBT means protecting the integrity of the Indonesian social order from Western domination. The second line is to appeal to personal emotion by stoking the fear that LGBT poses a threat to families and children. In this way, LGBT rejection is seen as an effort to maintain the sanctity of heterosexual marriages and to protect children from sexual perversion.

3 Criminalisation and Care

Ali (2016, p. xxi) highlights that in Muslim communities the acceptance of a particular faith or practice, especially concerning women, gender and family, depends on whether they are “legitimately Islamic.” In the Indonesian context, Ali’s observation is precise. Islam has become the most influential religion in Indonesia, permeating Indonesian social and political affairs in every possible way. As part of the social order, it sets the standards for how people interact and perceive one another. Therefore, it is seen as rightful, and its principles are a foundation of the social order that must not be shaken.

In LGBT discourse, Islam has become the most crucial factor in sha** public opinion. The 1998 political reforms that overthrew the authoritarian government of the New Order opened the floodgates for the re-emergence of political Islam, which had previously been suppressed. The vital agenda of political Islam is to uphold the ideology of religious morality, creating a sense of nationhood and moral citizenship based on the ideology of the heterosexual nuclear family (Platt et al. 2018; Boellstorff 2007). In other words, gender, sexuality and family are deeply rooted in the Indonesian political agenda. Where heterosexuality is the central concept that organises the morality of Indonesian life (Arnez 2013; Davies 2010; Blackwood 2010; Boellstorff 2007), LGBT becomes foreign and beyond imagination. It is classified as a form of transgression and, therefore, a target for criminalisation and punishment.

According to Hart, criminalisation of an act or omission is “to announce to society that these actions are not to be done and to secure that fewer of them are done” (Hart 1968, p. 6). Criminalisation targets individuals or groups who, because of their background or profession, must face a forced legal process, which includes discrimination, excessive force and deliberate efforts to stall their legal cases (Kontras et al. 2016). When the state uses its legislative apparatus and condemns people, it can have very serious consequences. By criminalising various acts and making them criminal offenses, the state exercises its ultimate power over its citizens by taking away some of their fundamental rights. For example, when the state arrests a person, that person loses the right to liberty, the right to work, or the right to hold a position in the government if they are classified as a suspect. When people are criminalised, depending on the circumstances, this can be a form of discrimination and oppression of citizens by the state.

Since the era reformasi (era of reforms) a strong “regulatory zeal” can be observed, an eagerness to increasingly “protect, control and enforce sexual morality at all levels, from national to regional” (see Arnez 2023, this volume, chapter 1). While there is no national law that explicitly criminalises homosexual acts in Indonesia, there are other laws that are used for this purpose. For example, police and state prosecutors have used Law 44/2008 concerning Pornography to prosecute men and women who engage in a same-sex relationship.5 Although this law regulates pornography, the explanation of article four on deviant sexual acts includes a prohibition on homosexuality.6 According to Human Rights Watch n.d., nearly all 300 LGBT Indonesians arrested in 2017 were charged under this law (Harsono and Knight 2018). In addition, several regional regulations target same-sex sexual relationships, such as in Aceh, Banten and Palembang.7 They include provisions to eradicate prostitution and the sin of engaging in same-sex sexuality and expressing non-normative gender identity (Wieringa 2019). Moral standards in these laws are used to enforce moral standards set according to Islamic rules. No real crimes are being fought, but LGBT people are being criminalised. As Islam sets the standard of morality in Indonesia, it is safe to argue that Islamic morality underlies these laws.

Such laws are not developed in a vacuum but are also underpinned by Islamic regulations. A case in point is fatwa (legal opinions) No. 57 against homosexuality, sodomy and obscenity, issued by the Majelis Ulama Indonesia (Indonesian Ulama Council, MUI), in 2014. The Front Pembela Islam (Islamic Defenders Front, FPI), for example, used it to justify acts of violence against LGBT people.

To understand the desire to criminalise LGBT in Indonesia, we might refer to the “dual process of prejudice” (Sibley and Duckitt 2013). Certain social groups in society are identified based on perceptions of the threat they pose, and the stereotypes associated with them. In the Indonesian context, condemnation of LGBT people is politically fostered through efforts to associate them as a threat to the nation. For example, by focusing on criminal cases involving the exploitation of minors, news and television programmes present LGBT as threats to the family and potential perpetrators of child sexual abuse (Hegarty 2022). At the same time, stereotypes that portray LGBT as a disease, both psychologically and sexually, continue to be perpetuated (Thajib 2022).

Even though the new Criminal Code, which was passed on 6th December 2022,8 outlaws all forms of extramarital sexual relationships, it does not specifically criminalise LGBT people. Nonetheless, the anti-LGBT campaign in Indonesia has been successful. For example, Hegarty (2022) demonstrates how the criminalisation of LGBT takes place through the media and becomes an entertainment show. He illustrates how the state is driving the public discourse on the perception of same-sex sexuality as a crime. By broadcasting images of police raids on private events claimed to be gay parties, the state positions itself as the protagonist in a drama against evil homosexuals. Images depicting immorality and sexually motivated crimes, Hegarty says, pique the public’s interest and spark speculation about who “the criminal” was. If the purpose of criminalisation is to tell society that certain actions should not be done (Hart 1968), the media spectacle of LGBT works successfully and in a harmful way. In addition to exacerbating the fear, hatred and dehumanisation of LGBT people in society, the drama of police raids also forces them to hide further in silence without being able to do much to defend themselves.

Because violence is morally unacceptable, perpetrators need justification for their actions to be socially approved. In this context, criminalisation becomes a justification for violence against certain groups (Daskin 2016). This is particularly evident in the case of violence against LGBT people in Indonesia. Hegarty’s (2022) study reveals that the nationally broadcasted images of police raids on gay parties become a source of justification for violence and discrimination against sexual and gender minorities across the country. More explicitly, Listiorini (2020) points out that the increasingly negative coverage of LGBT in the media corresponds with the growing discrimination and violence experienced by this minority group.

In addition to the criminalisation of LGBT people in Indonesia, which is taken up in the above studies and becomes a legitimising tool for violence against gender and sexual minorities, there is another discourse, not as strong, that revolves around care. Care is more than an affective concept; it involves ethicopolitical practices and obligations. Santos (2020, p. 128) defines care as “a species activity that includes everything that we do to maintain, continue, and repair our “world” so that we can live in it as well as possible.” Citing Joan C. Tronto, Santos elaborates that what he means by the world encompasses “our bodies, ourselves, and our environment;” thus, caring necessitates defending ourselves and others against “extraordinary incursions of violence or other forms of disruption into our daily lives.” According to Carol Gilligan (as cited in Tronto 1987), care has three fundamental characteristics. First, the ethic of care is based on moral concepts of responsibility for the wellbeing of others and interpersonal relationships. Second, this morality is grounded in concrete circumstances and is not formal and abstract. Third, this morality is best expressed as an activity rather than a set of principles.

The exercise of care in relation to LGBT issues in Indonesia is not straightforward. For example, Thajib (2022) elucidates how caring is used to justify the criminalisation and oppression of LGBT people. He shows how AILA, in their petition to outlaw LGBT before the Constitutional Court in 2016, claimed that criminalising same-sex relationships was a form of care to protect children and the nation from a potential public health crisis and moral decay.” In his study, we see an unethical practice of care by AILA, who instrumentalise it to justify and legitimise their oppressive interests and views. They utilise care as a political tool to appeal to public sympathy, but at the same time, create a hierarchy separating the deserving and undeserving individuals. They work to save those considered innocent (e.g. children and society at large), but in so doing, they criminalise those considered a threat (LGBT people). In this sense, AILA’s care practice has nurtured the paternalistic culture that decides whose lives are worthy of consideration and whose are not.

This chapter sheds light on some genuine and ethical care practices in response to LGBT in Indonesia. To this end, I refer to Rodríguez’s (2022) study, which looks at several Indonesian progressive Muslim organisations and discusses how virtues like social justice, compassion and liberation have motivated them to embrace queer people. The emphasis on those moral virtues, combined with the understanding that Islam is a source of social support and connectedness, according to Rodríguez, leads these Muslim actors to be more concerned with orthopraxy than orthodoxy in their efforts to build a functioning and peaceful society. Drawing on the characteristics of care outlined by Carol Gilligan, we can safely argue that the actors observed by Rodríguez have practiced an ethic of care. They have prioritised responsibility, solidarity and concern for supporting and building equal relationships with Indonesian gender and sexual minorities.

4 Muhammadiyah and Nahdlatul Ulama (NU)

Muhammadiyah was founded in 1912 in Yogyakarta by Ahmad Dahlan. It can be seen as a reflection of religious awakening in the history of Islam in Java. Muhammadiyah, which means “followers of Muhammad,” portrays the process of Islamisation of Java at a time when many Muslims were dissatisfied with the existing religious situations. Muhammadiyah, according to Nakamura (2017), was a type of corrective action that sought to return Islamic teachings, whether in terms of rituals, morality and ethics, to what they imagined to be the standard of Islamic orthodoxy. Its mission was to modernise and purify the Islamic practices in Java from Kejawen, a Javanese religious tradition resulting from a blending of animistic, Buddhist and Hindu traditions (Beck 2019). Because it emphasises the importance of modernisation and purification of Islam from Kejawen, Muhammadiyah is often labelled a modernist and puritan movement.

Nahdlatul Ulama, which means “Awakening of the Ulama,” was founded by Hasyim Asy’ari in 1926 in East Java. It was founded primarily to defend traditionalist Islamic practices that allow for incorporating local culture into religious rituals. In other words, NU arose in response to modern Islamic movements in Indonesia, such as Muhammadiyah, which opposed the incorporation of local Javanese cultural traditions influenced by Hindu and Buddhist traditions into Islamic practices. Deliar Noer elucidates that NU was established because “the traditionalist in Java felt as if they had been attacked from two different directions: in the cradle of Islam by a new regime that had come to power, imbued with ideas which they could not tolerate; at home by reformist ideas, which they considered to be similar to Wahabism and which had gained substantial ground” (Noer 1973, p. 228).

Based on the history of the two organisations, many scholars argue that NU and Muhammadiyah represent two distinct groups in Indonesian Islam. NU represents the traditionalist group that defends acculturation between Islam and local cultural traditions, and Muhammadiyah represents the modernist and reformist group that calls for puritanism and Islamic orthodoxy (Sila 2020; Suwarno 2019; Hasbullah 2014; Barton 2014). However, despite these differences, these two organisations have quite fundamental similarities. Apart from the fact that they are social and intellectual movements driven by philanthropic ideas based on educational initiatives and school networks, NU and Muhammadiyah embrace the values of moderation in Islam. Despite their paradoxical character, which is “compatible with democracy but also with certain types of authoritarianism” (Menchik 2019, p. 419), NU and Muhammadiyah continue to uphold Indonesia’s commitment to religious pluralism, reproduce democratic norms, reject the idea of an Islamic state based on sharia law and forge a political compromise between liberalism and religious conservatism in Indonesia (Hefner 2019; Menchik 2019; Brown 2019). Even though they value diversity and tolerance, they reject liberalism because they do not want to separate the public sphere from religion because, for them, religion is integral to peaceful coexistence (Menchik 2016).

Both organisations have a very heteronormative family ideology. Muhammadiyah calls its family ideology Keluarga Sakinah, which means a family that is formed based on legal marriage between a man and a woman, has the blessing of God, and can foster feelings of love among its members so that they have a feeling of security, calm, peaceful and happy in trying to achieve prosperity in this world and the hereafter (PP Aisyiyah 2017). Meanwhile, the family ideology of the NU is called Keluarga Maslahah, which means that the family is beneficial and always brings good to the environment by following the will of God (Mujiburrahman 2017). A keluarga maslahah has five foundations that must be maintained: the need to protect al-din (religion), al-nafs (soul/self), al-nasl (lineage/offspring), al’aql (reason) and al-maal (property) (Salim 2017).

In general, both ideologies emphasize the heteronormative family with an asymmetrical division of roles between husband and wife, where the husband acts as the head of the family and a caring, loving, responsible breadwinner and the wife as a mother who is obedient and loyal to her husband. Therefore, pervasive heteronormativity in NU and Muhammadiyah means rejection of the existence of LGBT, thus following the narrative of LGBT as a sin and an illness.

5 Muhammadiyah’s Non-Confrontational Approach Toward LGBT

During the 2016 sexual moral panic, Muhammadiyah issued no official statements concerning LGBT people. According to the Secretary-General, Abdul Mu’ti, Muhammadiyah wishes to promote dialogue to avoid “unproductive public arguments” because theological edicts will not resolve the controversy (The Jakarta Post 2016). Despite this decision, many prominent Muhamamdiyah figures have publicly condemned LGBT people. For example, Haedar Nashir, the General Chairman of Muhammadiyah, stated that LGBT people violate the Pancasila (Indonesian ideology), religious values and human nature (Suara Muhammadiyah 2018). He called for the government to outlaw LGBT in Indonesia. In August 2022, Anwar Abbas, a member of Muhammadiyah’s central leadership board, stated that LGBT is a disease that can be cured if there is a will (Republika.co.id 2022). On the same occasion, he also said that LGBT contradicts religion and the Indonesian Constitution Article 29 (1), which states that Indonesia is based on one true God. He declared that those who try to legalise LGBT are tantamount to going against their religious teachings and the Indonesian Constitution.

The public condemnation of LGBT people by Muhammadiyah elites contradicts the organisation’s original intention to engage in productive dialogue on the issue. How did this contradiction come about? According to Bapak Hikam, a member of Majelis Tarjih and Tajdid Muhammadiyah, a council that tackles Islamic legal issues in the organisation, Muhammadiyah’s decision not to issue a statement was pragmatic. He acknowledged that the LGBT is a sensitive issue and that there are various points of view within Muhammadiyah. As a result, an official statement may spark unnecessary conflict and division within the organisation. He said:

Muhammadiyah cannot be a proponent or opposer of such sensitive issues, but Muhammadiyah will let its members take any stance. It is the strategy. It is how I read the situation. For sensitive issues, Muhammadiyah will not take an official position. Why? Because Muhammadiyah’s members have diverse opinions. If Muhammadiyah takes a firm stance that is different from the views that exist among its members, these members may terminate their memberships. However, as a member of Muhammadiyah, one may take his/her stance, and they are encouraged to do so. If one is a proponent of the issue, he/she may defend it. It is how Muhammadiyah maintains its existence.9

Bapak Hikam’s view above is in line with Latief’s (2017) observation which highlights the contestation of official and unofficial opinions within the organisation. The official opinion reflects Muhammadiyah`s perspective that has been issued in writing and signed by the general chairman, whereas an unofficial opinion is a personal perspective of a Muhammadiyah member. Even though unofficial, personal perspectives may significantly influence opinions within the organisation. Despite this distinction, in practice, multiple but similar personal opinions expressed by Muhammadiyah`s prominent figures and relayed by the media could easily be misinterpreted by the public as the organisation’s official position.

6 Aisyiyah’s Press Release: LGBT Disapproval

While Muhammadiyah did not issue an official statement, its autonomous women’s organisation, Aisyiyah, issued a press release considering the LGBT controversy in 2016. The press release, titled Pernyataan Sikap Pimpinan Pusat Aisyiyah tentang LGBT (Lesbian, Gay, Biseksual, Transgender) [(The Official Statement of Aisyiyah’s Central Leadership regarding LGBT (Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender)], was published in the magazine Suara Aisyiyah page 16, 4th edition, April 2016. As an official document, the press release was signed by the Chairwoman of Aisyiyah, Siti Noordjanah Djohantini.

Aisyiyah’s statement contains four essential points. None of these four points explicitly condemn or propose punishment for LGBT people, but they only express disapproval. First, by referring to heterosexual marriage as a basis of sexual behaviour that is “correct, good, and healthy religiously, socially, legally, and biologically,” Aisiyah implies that LGBT is wrong, evil and unhealthy. Therefore, although this phrase does not directly condemn LGBT, it clearly conveys to the public that people should not engage in same-sex relationships and transgender expressions. According to Aisyiyah, the Marriage Law 1/1974, which prescribes heterosexual marriage, and Islamic norms contained in the Quran, including Quran (29: 31–35), which refers to the story of the Prophet Lot, are the rules for social and sexual relations of Muslim communities in Indonesia. Second, Aisyiyah’s rejection of LGBT is inextricably linked to heteronormativity, which is the foundation of its gender and family norms. Aisyiyah suggests that within the ideology of Keluarga Sakinah, the family is the central pillar in providing sexual education for children. Thus, the family is the main bulwark to protect children from LGBT influence. Third, Aisyiyah’s opposition to LGBT is motivated by its concern about the movement seeking to legalise same-sex marriage. However, several studies have refuted this fear, pointing out that the LGBT movement in Indonesia has never sought to legalise same-sex marriage (see, for example, Wijaya 2022; Thajib 2022). Fourth, without explicitly mentioning it, Aisyiyah’s press release indicates that although they consider non-normative gender and sexuality wrong, it is human. Therefore, Aisyiyah insists that sexual orientation should not be used as a basis for discrimination or violence. Aisyiyah cites the Quran (21: 107), which speaks of Islam as a religion of mercy. Moreover, it refers to the Quran (2: 183), which speaks of Islam as a religion that guides and enlightens humanity.

Aisyiyah’s press release adds to the complexity of examining Muhammadiyah’s response to LGBT. While it is an official statement, it is issued by an autonomous organisation, so its power within the Muhammadiyah association is not entirely clear. According to Bapak Hikam, Aisyiyah’s official statement can be considered to represent Muhammadiyah’s views because, during its formulation, a representative from Muhammadiyah was involved. However, Ibu Alimatul Qibtiyah—a member of Majelis Tarjih and Tajdid Muhammadiyah and the Chairwoman of the Research and Development Unit (LPP) Aisyiyah—expressed a different opinion. She said that Aisyiyah’s statement was only an appeal specifically aimed at Aisyiyah’s members, even though Muhammadiyah’s members, in general, may also read it.10 As an appeal, she continued, this statement was not organisationally binding, so members are free to follow it or not without consequences. Furthermore, because this statement was formulated and signed by the Chairwoman of Aisyiyah, Ibu Alimatul suggests that it only represents Aisiyiah’s opinion and may not be assumed to represent the perspective of Muhammadiyah as a whole.

7 NU’s Religious Edict: Condemning LGBT

During the 2016 anti-LGBT moral panic, NU became Indonesia’s most influential Islamic organisation to issue an official statement condemning LGBT. The religious edict of the organisation advocates for the criminalisation of LGBT people, urging the government to criminalise any LGBT-related activities or campaigns. The statement, titled Sikap dan taushiyah PBNU tentang perilaku seksual menyimpang dan penanganannya (PBNU’s attitude and message regarding deviant sexual behaviour and its handling), was delivered to the public by the deputy chairman, Kyai11 Miftakhul Akhyar, on 25th February 2016 in Jakarta (NU Online 2016).

The statement begins by affirming that Islam protects reproduction rights as an essential factor in human survival and that these rights can only be exercised through the institution of legal heterosexual marriage. Therefore, NU proposes that all sexual relations outside legal marriage should be considered a crime against humanity. In this context, NU condemns LGBT as a deviant behaviour that violates human dignity and human reproductive rights. This condemnation extends to all parties in Indonesia who promote and support the existence of LGBT people.

NU conveys three important messages in its statement. First, they reject any ideas and movements that allow or recognise the existence of LGBT. This rejection is based on their understanding that LGBT is a deviant “behaviour that violates human nature” that should be “rehabilitated.” This suggestion leads to the second message, where NU calls for the government to make rehabilitation mandatory for LGBT people. These rehabilitation efforts, according to NU, should be a shared responsibility between the government and society. Finally, NU’s third message calls for punishment against any effort and campaign that seeks to normalise “LGBT activities.” In seeking to criminalise LGBT, NU emphasises two crucial points: NU proposes to the government to ban all forms of LGBT propaganda, including foreign intervention and financial assistance supporting LGBT activities, and NU advises the parliament (DPR), especially the members who come from the organisation, to draft a law that classifies LGBT as a crime, recommends rehabilitation for LGBT people and prescribes punishments for those who propagate the normalisation of it.

8 Aisyiyah Yogyakarta: Mutual Respect Through a Healthcare Programme

In Muhammadiyah, there is a different approach between the central and regional leadership in addressing LGBT issues. This difference was revealed during my conversations in Yogyakarta. At the suggestion of the regional board of Muhammadiyah Yogyakarta that gender, sexuality and family issues are Aisyiyah’s areas of expertise, I visited the regional board of Aisyiyah Yogyakarta. During my visit, it became apparent that they keep religious beliefs separate in their social programme. While they believe same-sex sexual relationships and transgender expression violate Islamic norms, they employ the ethics of care in their discursive practice.

Aisyiyah Yogyakarta has a public health programme that integrates the LGBT community. In the TB-HIV care programme,12Aisyiyah Yogyakarta works closely with other HIV prevention organisations, such as Yayasan Kebaya dan Yayasan Victory Plus, where many transgender women and gay men work. This cooperation is primarily in screening and assisting patients with TB and HIV. Ibu Zulaikha Ajron, the Chairwoman of Aisyiyah Yogyakarta, explained the programme as follows:

The collaboration through the HIV program is only a few years old. We used to work specifically on TB issues. However, we found that people with TB, if their sexual behaviour is not healthy, may get infected with HIV. So, we assist TB and HIV patients at the same time. If those whom we assist are from the poor, we accompany them to the health center or hospital, find a shelter house and help them with nutrition from the donations of Aisyiyah women, such as eggs and milk, and other nutritious foods.13

When asked how this cooperation may foster dialogue with the LGBT community, Ibu Zulaikha proposed a separation of religious beliefs from human values. Despite her belief that LGBT people should return to their fitrah (nature), i.e. heterosexuality, she insists that as part of a society that needs support in health care, LGBT people deserve to be treated as such with respect and compassion. She argues that Islam’s universal values of equality, kindness and compassion should be the impetus in fighting for humanity. Thus, for her, religious belief on a specific issue should not interfere with the humanitarian mission. If requested, she says, Aisyiyah will provide religious assistance such as pengajian or religious counselling, but otherwise, they focus on treating TB and HIV patients without judgment. She then narrated her personal experience of socialising with her transgender neighbour:

For me, they are human beings just like us, created equally by God. Therefore, I do not look at them based on their behaviour or social class. If it is a matter of humanity, I have no problem with it. I have a neighbour who is like that (transgender). When she gets sick, I visit her. When she is in trouble, I help her. I invite her to return to her fitrah, but whether or not she does is not my concern.14

For Aisyiyah Yogyakarta, the collaboration with other HIV prevention organisations also provides a learning opportunity for their members and cadres. For example, Aisyiyah University of Yogyakarta collaborates with the Yayasan Kebaya, Kebaya Foundation.15 Yayasan Kebaya (Keluarga Besar Waria Yogyakarta or Yogyakarta Transgender Family) is an NGO that provides free shelter and assistance to waria and people with HIV/AIDS. With an MoU which took effect in 2015 and ran until 2021, Yayasan Kebaya provided lectures and a place for internship for the university’s nursing students regarding HIV/AIDS patient care. Through such cooperation, the students should learn to accept and respect differences that go against the existing societal norms.

Yan Michael, my interlocutor at Yayasan Victory Plus, confirmed Ibu Zulaikha’s statement and said there have never been any problems working with Aisyiyah. He emphasised that his staff, whether gay men or transgender people, can easily mingle and cooperate with members of Aisyiyah Yogyakarta. He narrated how they can work together without difficulties:

Our staff is 80% HIV positive. They are from different backgrounds; many are gay men and transgender people. Yet, Aisyiyah remains open and tolerant of them. There is no discrimination. Even in every activity, such as training for their cadre, they also involve us. Whomever we send to join in their events, they receive them well. Whomever it is. There have never been any complaints. So far, they have been open and never restrictive.16

9 NU Yogyakarta: Religious Advocacy for Pesantren Waria Al-Fatah

NU Yogyakarta also uses an ethic of care in its discursive practices related to LGBT issues. For example, at the beginning of this chapter I referred to the Pesantren Waria al-Fatah in my introductory vignette. Kyai Hamroeli Harun, an ulama (religious scholar) from NU, was instrumental in supporting the establishment of this pesantren in 2008. He encouraged the establishment of the pesantren and provided protection and teaching assistance. This support continues until today. Moreover, in 2020, Fatayat, NU’s women’s organisation, established an official partnership with the pesantren to provide ustadzah (female Islamic teacher). Ibu Shinta shared her experience with NU Yogyakarta:

Throughout the journey of this pesantren, ulama who approached us and wanted to guide us were from NU. In my view, they are very open. They embrace us because they believe that waria are human beings with the right to religion and worship. We studied the Quran together. We studied the verse (Quran 24:31) that indicates the acceptance of waria in Islam …. We also have activities together with Fatayat. Waria is socially regarded as a woman. The National Commission of Women has decided this since 2012. Therefore, Fatayat includes us in their activities because we are part of women’s issues.17

In 2015, the University of NU Jepara and the State Islamic University (UIN) Sunan Kalijaga Yogyakarta teamed up to offer Pesantren al-Fatah to develop a fiqh18 waria. The aim was to clarify the position of waria in Islam, particularly concerning prayer procedures. This offer, however, became a source of contention for the pesantren, leading to its closure in 2016 by the FJI and the police. Concerning this controversy, I spoke with Ustadz Arif Nuh Safri, one of the teachers at the pesantren who has been teaching since 2010.

Ustadz Arif’s decision to teach at Pesantren al-Fatah was initially motivated by curiosity. However, as he got to know his students better, realised the stigma and discrimination they faced, and saw how serious they were about learning and praying, he was moved and became more fervent in supporting and defending them. Concerning the fiqh waria controversy, Ustadz Arif argued that the most profound human rights for a human being are the right to religion and the right to worship because God created every human being equal. Thus, the offer of fiqh waria is a form of recognition of this equality. Fiqh waria, accrding to him, is necessary because it will provide clear guidance for people with non-binary gender identities in religious matters, particularly in congregational prayers. Thereby, he was disappointed that this plan was politicised.

The public finds it difficult to accept the presence of waria in the mosque. There is confusion regarding the procedure of prayer for waria; which row should they be in? Should they be in the male’s or female’s row? This is where we need to formulate this fiqh. We need to provide clarity. That is precisely the point of the fiqh waria. This kind of clarity (in prayer procedures) is what they need. When FJI raided the pesantren in 2016, it was because of the issue of fiqh waria. Well, the proposal to formulate the fiqh was actually not from us (Pesantren al-Fatah), but it was an offer from the sharia faculty UIN Sunan Kalijaga in collaboration with the University of NU.19

Ustadz Arif suggested that Muslims should be honest (\(j\!u\!j\!u\!r\)) in responding to LGBT issues. He gave an example that there are differences in the classical fiqh in viewing same-sex sexual acts according to which they are viewed as a transgression on the one hand but often overlooked on the other. He also emphasised that this classical fiqh was a product of the understanding of the jurists, influenced by the realities of life in their time, and that these legal products must therefore be constantly adapted to social developments. Finally, Ustadz Arif suggested not only giving due consideration to the history of classical fiqh, but also being open to the development of modern science, even if it comes from the West, which accepts homosexuality and transgender identity as part of human diversity. As he discussed the Muslim attitude towards LGBT, Ustadz Arif underlined the concept of Islam as rahmatan lil alamin, which means a blessing for the entire universe; he insisted that Islam does not create barriers that discriminate. Because Islam requires Muslims to engage in da’wah (proselytisation), he said, these efforts must carry the values of mercy, which means that, Muslims must not force and dominate in da’wah. He argued that “our job as Muslims is only to remind each other in goodness, whether or not someone changes after we remind them is no longer our business, but God’s.”

Carol Gilligan’s (in Tronto 1987) characteristics of care are helpful to explain how central and regional leaders in Muhammadiyah and NU approach LGBT differently. The regional leaders in both organisations practice an ethic of care because they are closer to the grassroots reality. Therefore, their experiences are grounded and connected to the concrete circumstances of daily life in their communities. Their views are also based on the realities and problems of the people they encounter daily. In contrast, the central leadership might live in a bubble detached from the reality of grassroots society. Hence, they operate on a more abstract, universal and formal level guided by principles of rights and rules. As they view LGBT from a prejudiced and stereotyped perspective and see them as a transgression and a threat to society, their desire to criminalise is an attempt to ensure that the guilty are punished, the innocent protected and the societal balance is preserved from the intrusion of evil.

10 Conclusion

This chapter has shown the ambivalent attitude of Indonesia’s most influential Muslim mass organisations, Muhammadiyah and NU, towards LGBT people. This ambivalence is reflected in the discrepancy in approaches between those at the national level, who condemn and advocate for the criminalisation of LGBT people, and those at the regional level in Yogyakarta, who embrace this minority group through interpersonal relationships and equal cooperation. This chapter has also discussed how Islam contributes to this disparity. On the one hand, the idea of God’s law and sin becomes the basis for the desire to criminalise LGBT people; on the other hand, the Islamic values of mercy and equality become the driving force in care practices.

Islam is a dominant source of social norms that should not be violated in Indonesia. The Islamic heteronormativity that governs Indonesian sexual culture allows sexual relations only within the framework of legal marriage; so same-sex relationships are foreign and incomprehensible. Non-heterosexual people are seen as outside the norm, which invites them to be referred to as sinful. The concept of sin enters the criminal justice system and serves as a justification for the criminalisation of LGBT people. In addition to religious narratives, the health narrative is also used in the anti-LGBT campaign. Homosexual acts are portrayed as contributing to the spread of sexually transmitted diseases, which reinforces the perception that LGBT people are a public health risk. Furthermore, they are presented as potential sexual child sex offenders. When religious and health narratives are combined, they provide a powerful justification for the criminalisation of LGBT people, which in turn justifies violence and discrimination directed at them.

I have found that the desire to criminalise LGBT people in Muhammadiyah and NU comes from the central leadership of the organisations. Unlike the NU leadership, which strongly opposes, condemns and campaigns for LGBT criminalisation, Muhammadiyah takes a more diplomatic approach. Organisationally, Muhammadiyah did not express religious condemnation of LGBT people; instead, the organisation encouraged open discussions to avoid sustained and counterproductive controversies. However, personal comments from its elites that uniformly condemn and call for the criminalisation of LGBT people reflect the dominant stance in Muhammadiyah. According to the official statement of Aisyiyah, while Aisyiyah does not explicitly condemn same-sex sexual relations, it considers them to be antithetical to heterosexuality. This implies that LGBT violates religious, legal, social and health norms. Nonetheless, these Muslim organisations’ denunciation of LGBT is always accompanied by calls to avoid violence and prohibit discrimination. They argue that Islam only prohibits the act; thus, the perpetrator must be embraced and rehabilitated.

As I have argued, the authorities at the regional level practice care as they are closer to the realities of grassroots life. Their perceptions are grounded and tied to their concrete experiences and interactions with LGBT people. This allows them to better understand the reality and problems that LGBT people face daily. The same may not be said for members of the central leadership boards, who live in a bubble disconnected from grassroots realities. As a result, their views on LGBT people are primarily based on abstract ideas and shaped by prejudice and stereotypes.

In conclusion, based on my findings, I contend that while religious norms are often difficult to negotiate, Muslims must confront realities that are often at odds with the norms they believe in. Instead of condemning and marginalising, Muslim organisations could be the main actors in initiating an honest dialogue in a spirit of openness, equality and mutual respect with the stigmatised LGBT people. When specific religious norms cannot withstand differences, Muslims can always rely on universal Islamic values centred on compassionate humanity.

Notes

  1. 1.

    She transitioned as a teenager.

  2. 2.

    Interview with Ibu Shinta Ratri, co-founder of Pesantren Waria al-Fatah, carried out by Anwar Kholid on 12 December 2018, in Yogyakarta. As Ibu Shinta Ratri passed away in February 2023, the future of the pesantren is unclear.

  3. 3.

    As Ewing (2020) has rightfully pointed out, the term LGBT often carries a negative connotation in Indonesia. However, I use the term LGBT here—because it was used by my interlocutors.

  4. 4.

    Interview with Dédé Oetomo, a scholar and human rights activist, carried out by Anwar Kholid on 1st November 2019, in Surabaya.

  5. 5.

    In Law 44/2008, Pornography is defined as images, sketches, illustrations, photographs, writings, sounds, moving images, animations, cartoons, conversations, gestures or other forms of messages through various forms of communication media and/or public performances, which contain obscenity or sexual exploitation that violate the norms of decency in society.

  6. 6.

    Article four Law 44/2008 mentions various elements of pornography, one of which explicitly includes deviant sexual relation. The elucidation section of this article goes into more detail stating that what is meant by “deviant sexual relation” includes intercourse or other sexual activities with corpses, animals, oral sex, anal sex, lesbians and homosexuals.

  7. 7.

    Local regulations targeting LGBT are among others: a) in Aceh, article 63 (1) and 64 (1) of Qanun Aceh 06/2014 concerning the **ayat (acts prohibited by Sharia) Law punishes the perpetrators of liwat (anal intercourse) and musahaqah (lesbianism) with a maximum of 100 flogging, or a maximum fine of 1000 g of pure gold, or a maximum imprisonment of 100 months; b) in Banten, article 5 (4) of Serang district regulation 02/2020 concerning HIV and AIDS states that homosexual partners and “waria and transgender” as key populations in the spread of HIV/AIDS; c.). in Palembang, article 8 (2) of Palembang City Regional Regulation No. 02/2004 on the Eradication of Prostitution includes “homo sex,” “lesbian” and “sodomy” as acts of prostitution that are punishable by up to 5 years imprisonment and or a fine of up to Rp 5,000,000.00.

  8. 8.

    At the time of writing this article, the official document of the new Criminal Code has not yet been published. However, according to the final draft submitted to parliament by the government, article 415 (1) states that anyone who engages in sexual relationships with someone who is not his wife, or her husband shall be punished for adultery with imprisonment up to one year or a fine up to Rp 10,000,000.00. The final draft of the new criminal code is available at https://bphn.go.id/data/documents/draft_ruu_kuhp_final.pdf. Accessed 12 December 2023.

  9. 9.

    Interview with Bapak Hikam (not a real name as he wished to be anonymized), a member of Majelis Tarjih Muhammadiyah, carried out by Anwar Kholid on 16th January 2019, in UIN Sunan Kalijaga in Yogyakarta.

  10. 10.

    Interview with Ibu Alimatul Qibtiyah, a member of Majelis Tarjih Muhamamdiyah and the Chairwoman of the Research and Development Unit Aisyiyah, carried out by Anwar Kholid on 10th November 2019, in UIN Sunan Kalijaga in Yogyakarta.

  11. 11.

    Leader of a pesantren

  12. 12.

    TB-HIV care is a nationwide programme pioneered by the central leadership of Aisyiyah since 2003. It is a community-based movement for the prevention and mitigation of the spread of tuberculosis and HIV. In this context, Aisyiyah prepares their cadres for educating the public about these two infectious diseases, and to find patients and provide them with counseling and assistance in undergoing therapy.

  13. 13.

    Interview with Ibu Zulaikha Ajron, the Chairwoman of the Regional Board of Asyiyah Yogyakarta, carried out by Anwar Kholid on 7th October 2019 in the office of Aisyiyah Yogyakarta.

  14. 14.

    Interview with Ibu Zulaikha Ajron, the Chairwoman of the Regional Board of Asyiyah Yogyakarta, carried out by Anwar Kholid on 7th October 2019 in office of Aisyiyah Yogyakarta.

  15. 15.

    Universitas Aisyiyah Yogyakarta lists Yayasan Kebaya as one of its local networks at https://green.unisayogya.ac.id/local-network/. Accessed 12 December 2023.

  16. 16.

    Interview with Yan Michael, the Manager of Victory Plus, carried out by Anwar Kholid on 29th October 2019 in Yogyakarta.

  17. 17.

    Interview with Ibu Shinta Ratri, co-founder of Pesantren Waria al-Fatah Yogyakarta, carried out by Anwar Kholid on 12th December 2018 in Yogyakarta.

  18. 18.

    Fiqh is the codification of principles of conduct that religious scholars extract from the Qur’an and Traditions, an analogy of these two and a consensus of legal specialists. See Federspiel 1995, pp. 59–60.

  19. 19.

    Interview with ustadz Arif Nuh Safri, a teacher at Pesantren Waria al-Fatah Yogyakarta, carried out by Anwar Kholid on 8th January 2019 in Yogyakarta.