God willing, please don't confuse us

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