The Jakarta Globe, Budi Tomaso Mar 13, 2014
This, dear reader, is the ninth in a continuing series of articles examining that unique Asian republic – Gilanesia – as it revs up the national engine room in a historic election year.
Now first let me point out that this blog will be the shortest in this series. And why is that?
In Gilanesia if you write or say anything about God or religion, or behave in a way that does not conform to religious custom and belief, you run the risk of being imprisoned. All it takes is for someone to ‘take offense’ at your question or comment and claim you have ‘insulted’ their religion, even if your intention is obviously academic. And the next thing you know you are charged with ‘heresy’ or causing social unrest.
In secular democratic countries elsewhere there is separation of religious beliefs and political institutions. But in Gilanesia, although the country describes itself as a modern Asian ‘secular’ democracy, it is in fact a theocratic state. That’s why this secular democracy has a Ministry of Religion and all citizens are bound by law to practice some state sanctioned religious belief.
As for religious toleration and inter-religious harmony?
A few religious minorities are tolerated — up to a point. But don’t press your luck.
Religious tolerance in Gilanesia is for export only. It’s a public relations exercise marketed to a gullible, admiring outside world who wouldn’t have a clue about actual conditions that prevail in the country. Occasionally international awards for fostering religious harmony and diversity are conferred on Gilanesian statesmen despite the fact that figures showing the rise of religious intolerance speak otherwise.
Politicians often play ‘the religious card’ by appealing to the religious sensibilities of a largely under-educated population in order to gain political advantage. Some politicians and officials in secular, democratic Gilanesia demand that those who work in their public administrations observe various religious rituals. Failure to do so can result in lack of promotion or even suspension of employment.
And if a politician wants to undermine another all he has to do is question his opponent’s religious credentials. Usually the one under threat will then respond quite publicly with a rebuttal. For instance, he will have posters of himself and family attired in customary religious dress displayed in the streets — which clothing at anytime they wouldn’t normally wear. But this is deemed enough to calm public anxieties and establish their credentials as ‘devout’ and ‘observant’.
Religious dress, by the way, is often also the preferred mode of dress for those female politicians and officials who find themselves clapped up in the corruption courts. Speaking of which, recently at a work place I questioned a woman about the prevalence of a certain style of religious dress.
“What if one of your fellow workers chose not to wear it?”
“Don’t worry”, she said. “The rest of us would put so much pressure on her, she would conform.”
That left a question hanging in the air but I did not pursue it with her but kept it to myself. You may draw your own conclusions as to why.
And that, dear reader is all I feel I can safely write about religion and its influence in secular, democratic Gilanesia.
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zo 16 maa 2014 - 21:24