Restructuring the Discourse on 'Hajj Ticket Wars'

There is one aspect of Hajj organisation in Indonesia that we have long considered normal, though it is not: queues stretching to decades. With millions of registrants, this system has become an “administrative fate” that is no longer questioned.

However, if we pause and reflect more deeply, there is a fundamental question worth asking: is it reasonable for someone to register for Hajj today, only to depart two or even three decades later?

This reality is not merely statistical figures. It touches deeper dimensions—about how we interpret worship itself. Hajj is not just a physical journey to the Holy Land, but an act of worship requiring complete readiness, or in Sharia terms, istitha’ah.

Yet, the long queuing system we operate today has slowly shifted that meaning. Hajj, which should be performed when one is able, has turned into a prolonged wait that may not end in the best condition. Someone registering in a healthy and productive state might only depart when aged, physically weakened, or far from ideal for performing the full rites.

At this point, we need to be honest. The long queues we have viewed as a form of justice actually harbour a significant paradox.

From Certainty to Legitimised Delay

So far, the queuing system is built on simple logic: first to register, first to depart. In many public services, this logic may be acceptable. But Hajj is not an ordinary public service.

It is an act of worship with highly complex spiritual, physical, and social dimensions. Reducing Hajj to mere administrative order is an oversimplification.

Furthermore, queues of 20 to 30 years are not truly certainty, but a delay legitimised by the system. We call it certainty because there is a portion number and departure estimate. But what kind of certainty demands waiting until much of one’s productive life has passed?

In many cases, pilgrims depart in non-ideal conditions. They go not out of readiness, but fear of losing a hard-fought turn. Here, the system creates significant psychological pressure.

‘Hajj Ticket War’ and Misunderstandings to Correct

In this context, the recently discussed discourse emerges: the term “war tiket haji”. This term elicits varied responses, from concern to rejection. Some see it as a threat to justice principles, even linking it to the liberalisation of worship.

However, such understanding needs correction.

As conveyed by Dahnil Anzar Simanjuntak, public discourse must not stop at terms but delve into substance. “War tiket” is not a standalone policy concept. It is merely a communicative metaphor—a simple way to describe the need for a more adaptive and responsive system.

The substance to promote is far more fundamental: ensuring Hajj quotas are filled by those ready in terms of istitha’ah for the current year.

In other words, this is not about who accesses the system fastest, but who is truly ready to depart—physically, financially, mentally, and in health.

Learning from Malaysia: When the System Becomes a Warning

In public policy discourse, we often debate new ideas without sufficiently examining other countries’ experiences with similar issues. Yet, in Hajj organisation, there is a real example that should serve as both a mirror and a warning: Malaysia.

Malaysia has long been seen as a country with relatively good Hajj governance, particularly through institutions like Tabung Haji. This system is often referenced for fund management and pilgrim services. However, behind this reputation lies structural problems now increasingly evident—and a serious alarm for other countries, including Indonesia.

Data shows Hajj waiting times in Malaysia have reached extreme levels. In 2023, waits were reported at around 140 years, with over 3.8 million registrants against an annual quota of about 31,600 pilgrims.

This figure is not just statistics. It depicts a vast imbalance between demand and capacity. Previous reports noted waits of 89 to 102 years, continuing to rise with more registrants.

Thus, someone registering today in Malaysia mathematically has almost no realistic chance of departing in their lifetime.

Further, analyses suggest that without significant quota increases, waits could permanently exceed a century.

At this point, we are no longer talking about long queues. We are discussing a system structurally misaligned with the purpose of worship itself.

Restoring the Essence of Istitha’ah

One of the most fundamental issues in our current Hajj system is the reduction of istitha’ah’s meaning. In practice, istitha’ah is often narrowed to the ability to deposit initial funds for a portion number.

Once obtained, it seems the obligation is “secured”. However, from a Sharia perspective, istitha’ah re