Safeguarding NU's Dignity at the Crossroads of Its Second Century
The 35th Muktamar of Nahdlatul Ulama, to be held at the end of August at Pondok Pesantren Tambak Beras Jombang, is not merely a five-yearly stage for contesting national leadership positions. For millions of Nahdliyin, this gathering on the threshold of the organisation’s second century is a mirror for self-reflection: will this jamiyyah remain a bastion of communal shelter, or will it gradually decay into a cold bureaucratic machine abandoned by the spirit of its movement?
The shadows of post-Reformasi politics have grown increasingly dense. Research by Edward Aspinall and Ward Berenschot on patronage politics in Indonesia sharply records how flows of money, lobbying networks, and transactional influence have penetrated the nerve centres of civil society organisations.
NU has not escaped this encirclement. Ahead of the gathering at the end of August, three major obstacles are intertwined: the disease of transactional politics, the magnetic pull of power, and the widening chasm between the organisation’s elite and its grassroots members.
The danger signals of money politics are growing louder. From Jakarta, the Chairman of PWNU DKI Jakarta, Kiai Samsul Ma’arif, openly warned of potential outside capital intervention seeking to infiltrate the Ahlul Halli wal Aqdi (AHWA) forum. This warning is not a baseless whisper.
When market logic seeps into the consultative chambers of the ulama, the measure of leadership automatically changes. Depth of religious knowledge, track record of service, and moral steadfastness are slowly pushed aside by the thickness of financial capital and the agility of political lobbying. If this practice is allowed to proceed unchecked, the legitimacy of NU’s moral leadership will collapse.
The younger generation of Nahdliyin must stand at the forefront to block rent-seekers and ensure the AHWA forum does not become an arena for power bargaining.
If money politics gnaws from within, then an overly cosy relationship with the palace threatens NU’s independence from without. This magnetic pull of power becomes increasingly apparent when various government strategic programmes—from Free Nutritious Meals to the strengthening of Village Cooperatives and People’s Schools—are extended directly to Nahdliyin social bases in rural areas.
At a superficial level, the arrival of these programmes is often regarded as a form of ‘state concern’ or the success of NU elite networks in lobbying the centre. But therein lies the logical trap. In studies of power relations, the relationship between the state and mass-based religious organisations rarely stands on equal footing. It almost always leads to an unequal symbiotic exchange: the state provides budget allocations, project licences, and administrative legitimacy, while the organisation reciprocates with the two things rulers need most: moral authority and mass support.
Herein lies the risk of co-optation. When NU institutions—from pesantren and cooperatives to regional management structures—begin to depend on project niches and government partnerships for their livelihoods, the organisation’s critical function is automatically compromised. NU risks structural dependency. Officials will think twice about speaking out loudly against state policies that displace farmers’ land or damage the environment, because there are programme taps and budgets at stake.
NU could slowly transform from a critical bulwark of civil society into merely an implementing agent (vendor) of government policy. Yet independence is the historical breath of this jamiyyah. NU was born, grew, and expanded from the infaq coins of its congregation, voluntary contributions from village entrepreneurs, and sincere service to kiai without salary—not from the support of state projects that are ephemeral and laden with political interests.
The younger generation of Nahdliyin must dare to assert a healthy boundary: supporting government programmes that genuinely improve citizens’ welfare is reasonable, but exchanging them for the organisation’s autonomy and critical capacity is a very expensive transaction.
Fragility in the economic sector is a historical challenge that has shadowed Nahdliyin for generations. Amid the squeeze of national inequality, discourse on self-reliance often stops at religious rhetoric or organisational jargon. However, if one looks to the grassroots, pathways to building economic welfare have long been alight and operating in various regions.
These models of self-reliance can be found in local economic ecosystems that continue to grow from below. In various areas, networks of congregation-based sharia cooperatives, independent pesantren business units, and community savings and loan groups have proven capable of driving local economic wheels. The presence of minimarket communities, agricultural processing units, and business entities based on environmental management are clear evidence that citizens can empower themselves without holding out their hands for central project assistance.
Important lessons from these good practices show that NU’s future in its second century requires a concrete people’s economy foundation built from the bottom up. Economic sovereignty is not obtained through project proposals to the capital, but woven through the consolidation of citizens’ potential. Congregation cooperatives, pesantren entrepreneurship, advocacy for land sovereignty, and mutual-aid trade networks between regions are proven instruments for breaking the chain of dependency.
The task of NU’s educated generation today is to facilitate, expand, and replicate these self-reliance models to various corners of the regions. By strengthening an economic ecosystem based on the values of tawazun (balance) and tasamuh (tolerance), NU not only succeeds in liberating its members from economic fragility but also gains tangible bargaining power before the state and the market.
The 35th Muktamar is ultimately a contest to safeguard the meaning of the movement.