Learning from Munir's perspective on Islam

Mochtar Buchori, Jakarta

There is a Javanese proverb that speaks of a rare phenomenon. It says, Kebo nyusu gudel, meaning literally "adult buffalo suckling breast milk from its young". This proverb is used to denote an instance when a mature and experienced person seeks wisdom from a younger person.

I had the feeling of being this old buffalo when I read a story about Munir in Kompas daily's Oct. 6 edition. It was the story of how the late Munir transformed himself from being a militant and exclusivist Muslim to a front-runner in the building of Indonesia's democracy.

It was also the story of how Munir transformed himself from being a Muslim who always assumed a defensive position, vis-a-vis people with different religious leanings, to eventually becoming a staunch defender of human rights in the country -- without stopping to consider the religions of those he was defending.

And it was also the story of how he gradually left behind his view of Islam, which emphasized the acquisition of political power, and adopted a view that Islam is always searching for justice and siding with the weak and the oppressed. The picture that emerged from these three metamorphoses was of Munir as a courageous, yet very humble person.

He spent the last fifteen years of his relatively short life -- he was born on Dec. 8, 1965 -- fighting for those who were oppressed by brute tyrannical power. He did this in the face of many dangers and threats to his personage.

Munir died on Sept. 7, while traveling to Holland to continue his studies at the University of Utrecht. He died fifteen minutes before his plane landed at Schiphol Airport, Amsterdam.

The part of his life that touched me most deeply was his transformation, from being a radical and intolerant Muslim -- who had no mercy for anyone who differed with him in the interpretation of Islam -- to being a Muslim who took it upon himself, as a moral obligation, to defend the poor and the weak.

He said that between 1984 and 1989, when he was still a student at Brawijaya University in Malang, he was armed with knives wherever he went. He said that he did this in order to defend Islam.

But, over time, he felt that this kind of attitude was not right. Echoing Gus Dur, he often asked himself whether God really needs bodyguards to spread His teachings. During that same period, he gradually felt that, by being exclusive in the name of Islam and shutting himself off from communities that were dissimilar to his own, the truth of Islam was eluding him. He felt a kind of spiritual emptiness.

The decisive moment came when he met Malik Fadjar, then rector of Muhammadiyah University in Malang, who bluntly told him: "I have never met a person as stupid as you are. You bring with you the spirit to fight, wherever you go, and you use religion as an instrument in relinquishing your desire to conquer other people. You say that you are a member of the Association of Muslim Students (HMI).

"If you really are a member of that organization why don't you examine once again what the real function of that organization is. Is it a training ground for political warfare, or is it a breeding ground for carriers of social missions?"

It was Malik Fadjar who told him that Islam is liberal in spirit, and that Islam accommodates differences. Based on this encounter, he began to realize that he had no right to shut out others whose opinions were different from his own.

He also began to realize that, in real life, there are those who oppress and those who are oppressed. Islam sides with those who are oppressed. "Thus, Islam does not side with Islam itself, but with those who are oppressed; this is for the sake of creating justice. And I do not think that justice should be upheld for the purpose of creating an exclusive society as many of us suppose," Munir said.

Reflecting on his past experiences as a member of a radical and extremely militant Islamic group, he said that what he lamented the most was that this extreme and militant character stems mainly from the desire to acquire political power, and not so much from understanding the sources of intolerance that ultimately results in discrimination against others. It also overlooks the empirical fact that being discriminated against is a bitter and painful experience. He said that being extremely radical and militant, for want of political power, was much more dangerous than being extremely radical and militant because of a lack of religious knowledge.

Another kind of social situation that makes many Islamic groups exclusive is the fear of the political defeat of Islam. Whenever such Muslims feel threatened or cornered, they think that they will loose their freedom to go to the mosque, or will no longer be able to attend religious meetings. Then they think that the state should interfere.

Munir said that it is wrong to think in that way. "When a Muslim is saying their prayers, they are turning their face to Justice. When you do this five times a day, you will not be able to escape the fight for justice. And injustice happens everywhere, all the time. If you kept silent in the face of glaring injustice, would you still be able to complete your prayers and face Justice?

I was really -- and still am -- struck by the eloquence of this reasoning, which eventually made him a staunch defender of human rights. I think he did this, not just for humanity. But, deep in his heart, he did this in the name of Islam.

Every time I read Munir's words, they touch the very core of my heart.

The writer is a former rector of IKIP Muhammadiyah, Jakarta, and has a Ph.D. in education from Harvard University.