God willing, please don't confuse us

JAKARTA (JP): Insya Allah, the Arabic expression meaning "God willing", is in popular usage in Indonesia. When you ask someone whether he or she can come to dinner, the usual answer is Insya Allah.

The idea is sincere enough because nobody is expected to surpass God's will as He decides everything about everyone. Now that's religious submission!

But my neighbor, someone with good ties with Middle Eastern embassies here, was shocked by the comeback of an Arab diplomat after he had used Insya Allah.

"Is that the Indonesian or Arabic Insya Allah?" the diplomat asked.

He was taken aback for a moment before he understood the response. It was based on the fact that Indonesians have manipulated the meaning of the words. Instead of its true meaning of "I will come to your reception if there is no sudden hindrance which I cannot avoid", people here have long used the words to conceal a direct negative response. Or, at the very least, they are undecided on whether to attend.

To put it simply, they are veiling their insincerity.

Playing with language and confusing other people with popular or foreign terms is a long tradition here. Even "democracy" has a different meaning here from in Europe, where the concept was conceived.

We are also well known for our own creation of seeming muddled English terms which confuse British or Americans living here. One of them asked me one day what "security approach" means. Is it military approach?

The use of another popular Arabic word here has also been bastardized and now leaves many people confused. Bina, which originally means to build, in practice has also taken on the meaning to advise, to give orders or even to meddle in internal affairs of others in this country.

Misused

The word Almarhum (the late) has also been misunderstood and misused. Many years ago, to mock the Indonesian Communist Party (PKI) which was banned in 1966, many people took to calling it Almarhum PKI. This is completely erroneous usage because Almarhum, besides referring to the dead, also implies the hope, "May God bless him".

I will never forget the way Haryadi S., a literary essayist who died about 25 years ago, also used the term almarhum in reference to someone who remains very much alive today.

The writer was expressing his dismay at the actions of a senior editor whom he had once regarded as the most respectable newspaper editor in the solar system.

Haryadi was frustrated to find in the late 1960s that his idol had joined a political group which he saw as menacing Indonesian democracy. In his eyes, the editor's political idealism had died.

"After he joined the party and accepted an appointed seat in the nation's highest legislature, he was dead," Haryadi said.

Several months later at a social function, Haryadi had to bid farewell to the hosts who were standing in line by the door. In the receiving line was the very same editor.

Haryadi shook hands with everybody but pointedly skipped his fallen idol. When his friends asked why he had been so rude, he said: "How could I shake hands with an almarhum?"

There are more recent examples where Arabic expressions have been appropriated for unusual situations. After the results of the recent general election were announced, veteran politician of the Indonesian Democratic Party (PDI) Alex Asmasubrata suddenly exclaimed Inna lillahi wa inna ilaihi raji'un.

This is the heartfelt reaction a Moslem should make on hearing that someone has passed away. It is roughly equivalent to may he rest in peace, but its deeper meaning is "From God do we come and to Him we shall return."

Asked by Merdeka daily to comment on the party's disastrous showing in the polls, Alex spouted the Arabic expression. "The party is dead already," he added.

Alex also confessed to not voting as he claimed he was unable to find the designated polling booth.

-- TIS