Tuesday, 23 October 2018

13. Conclusion: Symbols and Society


Welcome to the final section of Symbols and Society. In this conclusion, I consider the limitations of what we have studied in this subject. I also introduce other directions to pursue in your journey into anthropology.

Summary of the course

By now you are probably developing your own sense of the history of the social sciences and anthropology. After all, in this subject, you have covered some of the major thinkers in social theory (Durkheim, Freud, Jung, Levi-Strauss, Geertz) and in anthropology (Frazer, Ortner, Wolf etc.). I would now like to suggest what do with your developing knowledge. How can you use these theories like a scholar?

To start with think of the theories as 'explaining tools'. The more tools you have, the more chance you can get the job of explaining done. By doing this course you have learned to use some of the most important explaining tools so far available anthropologists studying symbols. These explaining tools are so powerful that their use is not limited to just analyzing symbols. They are also used for analyzing religion and culture more broadly. Nevertheless, we have used the tools specifically to explain symbols in "Symbols and Society". Seeing as humans are unique in the way we use symbols; if we can understand symbols better, we might be able to understand some of the unique aspects of human life.

You need to be able to evaluate the pros and cons of each explaining tools. It's not necessarily easy to compare the theories. This is because the different theorists look at different kinds of symbols. Freud wouldn't have been too interested in Ortner's key symbol such as the body as a machine, for example. Nevertheless, you need at least to be able to evaluate the pros and cons for using any of the theories to analyze a particular symbol.

Because each theory of symbols has pros and cons, none is perfect. At the very least, I hope you've been able to identify the theories about symbols that you had before you started this subject, and that now you can compare the your old theories with the new theories you've learned.

Making this more challenging, new theories rarely emerge to provide a different answer to the same old question. Rather they purport to provide a new answer to a new question. One way to think of this is, effectively:

  1. Frazer asked, "where do symbols like the kissing under the mistletoe come from?". 
  2. Durkheim asked, "what function do symbols play in society?" 
  3. Freud asked, "why do we make slip up and mistakes in ways that indicate unconscious traumas?"
  4. Jung asked, "how come all these famous symbols have a similar form?"
  5. Levi-Straus pondered, "how come there is an underlying structure to myths, painting, social structures?"
  6. Wolf asked, "how do different groups/classes find the same symbol meaningful in different ways"
  7. Turner asked, "how do symbols connect up with other symbols; how do people explain the symbols in their lives; how are symbols actually used in ritual?"
  8. Geertz asked, "how do symbols make life meaningful for us?"
  9. Ortner asked, "what are the central symbols in a culture? how come some are worshipped, others not? How do the non-worshipped ones fit in?"
  10. Douglas asked, "if symbols make imperfect models of the world, what do we do with the things that don't fit in to our models?"

Possibly, I'm putting getting this the wrong way around, because, let's face it, all these theorists already had their answers to their own questions ready! Irrespective, they are posing different questions and providing different analyses.

That said, ways to interweave these theories present themselves. If we analyzed the Virgin of Guadalupe we could easily interweave Durkheim's sacred symbols, Wolf's multivocal, Geertz's deeply meaningful models of, and Ortner's key symbol of the summarising variety! Wolf also pointed to a Freudian Oedipal interpretation of the Virgin. Being able to combine theories indifferent ways is part of your developing scholarly/analytical thought.

The next step is to analyze what all the theories constitute together. Together they form part of the sub-discipline of Anthropology we call "Anthropology of Symbols". As a subdiscipline, the Anthropology of Symbols sits beside Kinship, Political Anthropology, Economic Anthropology etc. In other words, it is one of the classical subdisciplines of Anthropology. You also need to be able to analyze at this sub-discipline.

The decline of the Anthropology of Symbols

To repeat anthropology of symbols is a field of study within anthropology. Symbolic anthropology (which is a particular approach to anthropology particularly associated with Geertz and called 'culturalist' or 'interpretive') was merely one approach to the study of symbols in anthropology. But with the decline of Symbolic Anthropology, the Anthropology of Symbols went out of fashion too. After the 1970s, anthropology lost interest in symbols. You can probably gather, if you have followed this course from start to finish, that I think this is a great loss! So what happened?

Limitations of the anthropology of symbols

If nothing else, the critical thinking you've developed during the course of this subject, should cause you to call into question the entire validity of anthropological approaches to symbols. This presentation covers some of the more obvious reasons to be sceptical about the Anthropology of Symbols.

Turn to emotions

One critique of the Anthropology of Symbols relates to emotions. The critique, as first expounded by Rosaldo in "Grief and a Headhunter's Rage:, holds that focusing on meaning overlooks the significance of emotion. Of course, Geertz and Durkheim make reference to emotions in the context of rituals; they said that the emotions make the meanings seem more profound and real. But Rosaldo and then a whole new sub-discipline, the Anthropology of Emotions, came to take precedence over symbols.

Turn to the body

Another critique relates to the body. Anthropologists began to see the body as more significant in cultural life than symbols.  This was in part thanks to theories of embodiment (derived from the philosophers Merleau-Ponty and Heidegger). It was also partly due to the work of anthropologist Bourdieu who, drawing on Mauss's idea of Techniques of the Body, came to see habitus (the culturally- and class-specific ways in which our body operates in space) as crucial in understanding human life.

Ortner: Marxism rose and Culturalism fell

Ortner (2016) has another explanation. (Remember studied Ortner's Key Symbols approach in Section 10.) According to Ortner's history, in the 1960s, interpretive anthropology, which Ortner calls the 'culturalist' wing was associated with Geertz. This was pitted against a Marxist wing. The Marxist was associated with Wolf, who, after writing The Virgin of Guadalupe" became increasingly materialist in outlook. The Marxist wing evolved in the 1970s into new critiques of anthropology:
 in the 1960s and 1970s American anthropology was dominated by a split between a “culturalist” wing, led by Clifford Geertz (e.g., 1973) and his students, and a Marxist or materialist wing....  From the point of view of the culturalists, the work of the political economy scholars was reductionist: people’s motives were reduced to simplistic “interests,” and people’s lives were seen as reflexes of mechanical forces. From the point of view of the materialists, on the other hand, the work of the culturalists...ignored the harsh realities of power that drove so much of human history. The culturalist perspective prevailed through much of the 1960s and 1970s, at least in the United States. At the same time, and partly overlapping with the Marxist/political economy approach, new critiques were taking shape that also insisted on the importance of taking questions of power, inequality, domination, and exploitation into account. . The practitioners of these new kinds of work ... all agreed, at least implicitly, that anthropology had to start paying attention to issues of power and inequality, and in the long run, starting somewhere in the 1980s, they came to prevail.
Is this how it happened? What do you think?

Final words

Speaking personally, teaching this subject is a wild conceptual ride for me. The world appears radically different through each of the various perspectives we have studied. Considering the theories together, I feel amazed by the extraordinary power of our species to create symbols. Immersed in symbols make me not only human but also part of a specific society and culture. Yet the theories shatter the simple confidence I had that my understanding of the world, but reflects the world as it is. They suggest that what is meaningful to me emerges not out of the world but something else. It could be that meaning emerges the thought of our ancient ancestors, maybe our infantile trauma or universal archetypes, deep structures or cultural systems. Symbols, and thus the way I make sense of the world, are ordered according to principles that emerge from culture and society, and not from the world itself.

Thursday, 6 September 2018

Slametan: Javanese Ritual Meals (Special Topic 4)

In this special topic from the subject Symbols and Society, we'll work on the concept of multivocality in relation to a ritual meal known as the "slametan". But first, a word of warning; this topic requires managing a lot of detail.

Women preparing sweets for a slametan at my fieldsite in Banyuwangi, Java.

What is a slametan?
The word slametan refers to a kind of ritual meal frequently held in Java. As I have written:
Ritual meals are...an important aspect of orthodox [i.e. traditional Islamic] religion. Geertz called them “slametan”, and different words might also be used in different circumstances. The host invites neighbours, family, friends for a child’s birthday, to ensure the successful sale of land, or farewell a nephew visiting from the city. The guest’s wives help the host’s wife prepare a small plate of rice with some meat on the side at the host’s house. Usually, the husbands gather in the front room (ruang tamu) of the host’s house, after evening prayers, and lead by someone knowledgeable, recite passages from Koran. Then they gulp down the rice dish, share a joke, smoke a cigarette, then leave with a takeaway pack of the food. Leftovers are seized by any wives and kids who happen to be around (Herriman 2014)
The red dot marks the location of Pare, Java, Geertz's fieldwork location, where, in the 1950s, he analysed slametan.

What does a slametan look like?

 For an overview, you could look at my 1 page explanation of ritual meals in Banyuwangi, Java, my first fieldwork location .

Slametan in Java (my first fieldwork location 2001-2002)
You can see the similarities between ritual meals in Java (my first fieldwork location) and  ritual meals among the Cocos Malays (my second fieldwork location). I have also blogged about specific ritual meals among the Cocos Malays, including a Feast for the Spirits of the Dead and  ritual meals at the end of Ramadan, the Fasting Month.

Men filling bags with takeaways at the end of a ritual meal on the Cocos (Keeling) Islands

The Cocos (Keeling) Islands, where I have done fieldwork 2012-, are indicated at the bottom left of this map.

Slametan as multivocal

Geertz
This apparently simple ritual meal has sparked a lot of academic controversy; at least in relation to Java. To start with, could read the first chapter of Geertz's classic Religion of Java. You might also like to look at my summary of this. What anthropologists of symbols take away from Geertz on slametan is that that 3 different groups come together at a slametan and the 3 groups get three different kinds of meaning out of the ritual. We anthropologists of symbols could thus say the symbols are multivocal, just like the Virgin of Guadalupe. To understand the three groups' perspective, we need to look at the larger topic of Islam in Java.


Islam in Java = Syncretic Islam

As in other parts of the world, the Islam in Java has unique features—it has been indigenized or domesticated such that it reflects both local as well as foreign influences. It is thus what anthropologists call "syncretic". Clifford Geertz’s (1960) seminal work on Islam in Java assessed these influences on the religion of the Javanese people, who primarily inhabit central and eastern Java. 

Islam in Java: 3 variants

On the basis of fieldwork in Pare, the author characterized Javanese religion as being composed of 3 ‘variants’, which correspond with the tripartite structure of Javanese society:

  1.  abangan, the peasantry, whose ‘socio-structural nucleus’ was the village. The abangan or folk religion is “a balanced integration of animistic, Hinduistic, and Islamic elements”;
  2. santri, small traders, whose ‘nucleus’ was the market (in the sense of “the whole network of domestic trade relationships on the island”). The santri religious tradition is “a purer Islam, less contaminated with either animism or mysticism” (1960:5). I will also refer to this religious culture as “orthodox Islam”; and,
  3.  priyayi, the gentry, formerly the aristocracy, whom the Dutch had transformed “into an appointive, salaried civil service” and whose “socio-structural nucleus” was the bureaucracy (1960:6). The priyayi religion is Hindu, incorporating “etiquette, art, and mystical practice” (1960:238).


Hence, Javanese religion was a syncretic Islam with the abangan ‘variant’ emphasizing animistic elements; the santri, Islamic; and the priyayi, Hindu elements within this syncretism. They call came together at the slametan ritual, which they all interpreted differently. Geertz insisted that these three variants were entirely separate in their mental outlook. 

Different interpretations of the slametan

What did the slametan mean to the 3 variants/groups in Java. 

  1. The slametan is central to abangan life. A commonly held ritual meal, the slametan expresses abangan belief in the importance of harmonious relations with other humans, spirits, ancestors and gods. 
  2. For santri, the emphasis in slametan is to worship Allah, the One, so these overtly pious Muslims they politely overlook reference to supernatural beings which are condemned by dogma.  
  3. Where the abangan might be animist, the santri monotheist, the priyayi engages in slametan from a mystical perspective. The priyayi sees deeper significance to the symbols of the slametan which connect the self with God and the universe. 
In these ways, the slametan could be seen as multivocal--providing different symbolic meaning to different groups

Wider application of Geertz's model?

 Geertz’s typology has been the most influential in the study of Javanese religion. It has even been applied more widely to describe various political historical phenomena through out Java (Hefner 1987b:534-5), even though Javanese are just one (admittedly the largest) ethno-linguistic group in Java. (Other ethno-linguistic groups of Java include Madurese, Sundanese, Osing). Even though some authors have felt the model as wider significance than even Geertz argued for, other scholars have questioned the model. Indeed, as a model for religion in Java, it has been subject to revisions, eight of which are discussed in the following paragraphs.

 8 revisions to Geertz

1. Religion and class do not always align.

Hefner (1985:3-4 nn.) records that “a number of scholars” have pointed out “that variation in religious orthodoxy cuts across class lines”.  One can find peasants or aristocrats whose Islamic beliefs and practices are as orthodox as santri.

 2. Using local ideas and terms does not provide accurate analysis

Closely related is the second revision, namely that Geertz employs the terms that his research participants to describe society. As such it could be called an ‘indigenous sociology’ or an ‘emic’ or as Geertz would prefer, an ‘experience-near’ account. However the use of the term “priyayi” to denote a religious culture by Javanese people has been questioned on the basis that it usually only denotes a class—the aristocracy.

3. Regional variation much more important 'socio-structural nucleus'

 Regional variation within Java is more important than socioeconomic class in explaining religious culture. For example, areas along the north coast (pasisir) have tended to be more orthodox, upland mountain areas have tended to cling to Hindu-Buddhist or animist beliefs (Hefner 1985; Koentjaraningrat 1985:318)

4. Geertz's fieldwork location was particularly divided


A fourth revision relates to the particularity of Geertz’s fieldwork location setting. The tense relationship between orthodox Islam and Javanist Islam that Geertz describes can be traced to historical factors such as a Communist Party revolt (Madiun) and intense party-politicking in rural areas which focused on, and heightened, differences in religious culture (known as aliran politics) (Hefner 1987b)

5. There are really only two variants.

A fifth revision has been to reject the tripartite structure. Koentjaraningrat (1985:316-7), for example, recognizes only two variants of Javanese Islam:

Variant A: “Islam of the religious people” (Agami Islam Santri) incorporates animistic and Hindu-Buddhist elements but “is much closer to the formal dogma learnings of Islam.”

Variant B: “Javanese religion” (Agami Jawi) is an “extensive complex of mystically inclined Hindu-Buddhistic beliefs and concepts, syncretistically integrated in an Islamic frame of reference” (Koentjaraningrat 1985:317).
 In this way, Koentjaraningrat (1985:316-7, 336) apparently subsumes the beliefs of Geertz’s priyayi and abangan religious variants into the single term “Javanese religion”.

6. Religious difference can be plotted along a continuum.

The sixth revision holds that the distinction between Javanist Islam and santri Islam is actually a continuum.  Geertz explicitly excluded this possibility of continuum, treating the different variants as discrete entities:
even amongst the most kolot [old-fashioned] of santri there has been a crucial shift when a man… becomes a santri. Nor can one simply say that the kolot-to-moderen scale measures the degree to which the principles have taken hold in the essentially abangan mentality of the Javanese (Geertz 1960:160).
Notwithstanding the idea that there is a continuum between santri Islam and Javanist Islam can be found in studies of Islam in Java, such as Woodward (1989:7) and Beatty (1999).

7. Sufism more important

A seventh revision pertains to the historical roots of Javanist Islam: namely, that it has been more influenced by mystical Islam or Sufism, than by pre-Islamic elements, such as Hindu-Buddhism (Woodward 1989:3, 242).  This could be attributed to the likelihood “that many of the merchants and travelers who introduced Islam to Southeast Asia were Sufis” (Barton 2002:64). Woodward (1989:6) argues that the distinction between Javanist Islam and santri Islam does not correlate with a distinction between “orthodox and syncretist Islam”, but rather a distinction between legalistic and mystical interpretations of Islam.

Perhaps the only safe conclusion one could make on the basis of these revisions is that there are two general trends in Islam in Java:

  1.  Javanist Islam emphasizes indigenous, Hindu-Buddhist, and/or Sufi elements, while
  2.  orthodox, normative, or santri Islam emphasizes ‘purifying’ Islam of these elements

8. The important distinction is between Civil and regimist Islam.


Finally, a new typology of Islam in Indonesia has been developed by Hefner (2000). Instead of defining his types in terms of differences of class or doctrine and practice, Hefner characterizes Indonesian Islam in terms of two emergent and rival traditions regarding the political role of Islam. “Civil Islam” is “pluralist” (2000:6) and affirms “democracy, voluntarism, and a balance of countervailing powers in a state and society” (2000:12-3). This is contrasted with a regimist Islam, which strives for an Islamic state without checks and balances (Hefner 2000:20).

 Accepting revision 5 for the sake of the argument leaves us with two major kinds of Islam in Java: Javanist Islam and santri Islam. This is the starting point for Beatty’s work Varieties of Javanese Religion.

The red dot indicates Banyuwangi, Java where Beatty did fieldwork in the 1990s, and I also did fieldwork 2001-2002.

Beatty’s mystical, practical Islam & pious Muslims

Beatty
This major contribution to the study of religion in Java is based fieldwork on research a village in mountain Banyuwangi given the pseudonym “Bayu”, as well as apparently shorter research periods in a traditional orthodox Islamic village and a Hindu community. Beatty is critical of accounts that explain religion from the perspective of ‘experts’ (urban Islamic preacher/scholars, sect leaders and so on) and instead searches to find the common- or middle- ground. For Beatty (1999:115-117) this religious common ground is what he calls “practical Islam”. Practical Islam is in the middle of a continuum with two ends:

  1.  Proponents of a purer version of Islam, whom Beatty labels “santri.” 
  2. Javanese mysticism is at the other side of the continuum. This  emphasizes worldly symbols of divinity (such as the human body, forests, foods) (Beatty 1999:158-186). 




Red and White porridge

Like Geertz, Beatty identified the multivocality of the slametan: people interpret the symbolic meaning of different rituals in their own way, and are not aggrieved by different interpretations (1999:49-50). Again from the two ends:

  1. For a pious Muslim, the red and white porridge of a ritual simply represent Adam and Eve.
  2.  For the mystic, Adam and Eve are “mere intermediaries”. 
The majority of people, i.e. those adopting, practical Islam,  have an opinion “falling somewhere in between…the two extremes (1999:38).

Aside from multivocality, another method by which local people deal with their religious differences is that the differences are brushed over such that questions of religion are not “spoken about, let alone debated” (1999:125-126).


My experience of Banyuwangi

A few years after Beatty, I also did fieldwork in Banyuwangi 2001-2002. I found evidence of the kind of religious diversity within Islam Beatty describes. It was apparent, of course, in Beatty's own fieldwork village and several surrounding villages. By contrast, elsewhere, in Banyuwangi, I was struck by the conformity of religious practice according to a pious, or santri Islam. Indeed, Beatty's fieldwork location was so unique that camera crews visited to film rituals there, it was set up as a tourist location, and the government has made a point of trying to preserve the special rituals. I decided to write a paper about that conformity of religious practice elsewhere in Banyuwangi. If you're interested, you can find it here.

Theoretical approaches to the symbolism of slametan

OK let's leave the debates over variants aside and rather focus on how the different theories might apply to the symbols in a slametan.
What would it look like if we applied Ortner's theory to something slametan and combined it with Geertz's theory?


Using Ortner, we could say that the slametan as an elaborating symbol of the ‘key scenario’ type. It's an elaborating symbol puts everything into context, helps you sort out ideas, explains how everything fits together, orders life. It's a key senario because it shows you how to live out life.

On top of this, we can also apply Geertz's ideas of models for and models. We could say that these elaborating symbols are models for how to behave. Maybe you act out gender roles, slamet is restored. It shows people how to act in the world: calm, resigned and peaceful. Also, as it is an unassuming and apparently insignificant ritual is not sacred like for example like prayers before fasting month.

Aside from the elaborating symbols, there are also models of. In the ritual how the world is and how to behave all hangs together For exathe colours of the porridge etc seem to be a model of Adam Eve etc.

As Geertz notes in rituals models of and for come together similarly the selametan is as much a model of society. We enact relationships with ancestors and with each other but is this in a symbolic way? Geertz says it symbolizes "the mystic and social unity of those participating in it" but is it a symbol or actually it? That is, it doesn't just make sense of the world, it actually creates order in the world. Anyway, it organizes their life: people are arranged equally, food is distributed, spirits are appeased and neutrality is achieved.


Final Words

There are no final words on the debate! Geertz started a fascinating conversation by analyzing a kind of ritual meal as having different meanings to different groups. The different groups could come together at the one ritual he observed. Ever since then different scholars have grappled with this idea. Maybe the debate has now run out of steam. But I hope not.

As for the different theories of symbols; I have applied Ortner and Geertz's own theory to the slametan. What other theories do you think illuminate aspects of the slametan?

Wednesday, 5 September 2018

Muslim Veils: Different Analyses (Special Topic 3)

Veils are piece of cloth that people wear around your head. Nuns of different cultures wear them. Jewish and Muslim women in different parts of the world wear veils too.



Issues surrounding whether Muslim women should or should not wear veils have been on-and-off the public agenda in many countries. In Western public discourse, you can find people supporting Muslim women veiling. Supporters might say "the veil is an expression of female agency" or "it’s just as an expression of religious piety". And you can find people opposed to it. Opponents might say, "it’s a rejection of all we stand for" or "it's simply an expression of male control over women". I find both views, for and against veiling,  uninformed by the kind of qualitative analysis anthropology gives.



Ostensibly, veiling is a religious issue. In the Q'ran, God says:
O Prophet! Tell thy wives and daughters, and the believing women, that they should cast their outer garments over their persons (when abroad): that is most convenient, that they should be known (as such) and not molested. And Allah is oft-forgiving, most merciful.
But this doesn't really help us anthropologists understand Muslim veils. Why?

In the study of religious adherence we tend to focus more on what ordinary, lay-folk believe. Some anthropologists focus on studying religious specialists (who in Islam might be called "clerics", "ustadz", "ulama", and other words). But although religious specialists are influential, as specialists, they are 'special', so we analyse their understandings as them as having very particular stances on matter.

In any case, what matters to us interpretation. As much as certain people would like to say there is only one correct interpretation of the Bible, Torah, Q'ran, Scriptures etc., they only say that because so many interpretations exist! As we can see from the research by Abu-Lughod and Lindquist the veil has a wealth of significance that can't be easily deduced from the Q'ran passage above.



I think the best way to  begin approaching this topic is an extension (literally) of the Hair Debate (Special Topic 2). The question of public vs. private symbolism remains crucial in understanding Muslim veils. From this one question anthropologists might ask is, "what do veils mean, personally, for women who wear them?"  The other question is, "what do veils mean in the cultures in which they are worn?"

In this, the third special topic, from my subject Symbols and Society, I consider two different accounts of veiling. From them, we get a sense of similarities and difference in the meaning attached to veils in two different Islamic cultures.


Image of Malay women wearing jilbabs (the Malay Muslim veil) at my field site, the Cocos (Keeling) Islands. These women are waiting to eat the food they have prepared for a communal meal.

 Abu-Lughod: Veiled Sentiments

Bedouin woman
GLOSSARY 
ghinnawa = poetry of yearning and love
hasham = modesty, shame, shyness, sense of being unworthy
tahasham = having hasham

It might be surprising given the title of the book, but in her Veiled Sentiments, Abu-Lughod only directly deals with the meaning of wearing a veil on p. 159. It must be remembered though, anthropology is mostly about providing context. Consistent with the idea of holism, anthropologists feel that one must have a picture of the whole culture and society (Awlad Ali Bedouins) before a single phenomenon (wearing a veil) can be understood. Also the word “veil” in the title is metaphorical; the ghinnawas, highly personal poetry, give veiled expression to highly personal and, in certain contexts, inappropriate poetry recited by women. So what does Abu-Lughod have to say about actual veiling in the physical? 

Bedouin Wedding Procession

The immediate context is tahashsham. I’m going for a simplified explanation that will leave the experts rolling their eyes: hasham is a feeling a shame, shyness, and unworthiness. Tahashsham refers to women who comport themselves in an appropriate manner. A woman who tahashsham is disinterested in sex; avoids contact with most men (aside from those of her father's family); is publicly disinterested in her husband. And most of all, for our purposes, women who tahasshsham wear a thick veil. They particularly do this in the presence of male superiors and strangers. To understand this in detail you'll need to read pp. 153-159 of Veiled Sentiments, which is available online at most university libraries. I have also tried to summarise it here:

Lindquist: Maju, malu and veils

Glossary:
Maju= advanced
malu = coy, shy, reserved
jilbab = veil which leaves face exposed

Located near Singapore and Malaysia, the Indonesian island of Batam is replete with modern factories and brothels. Singaporean men use it as a source of cheap labour and cheap sex. For an analogy, you might consider Tijuana; the Mexican city just over the border form San Diego, where young American men might go for buck's nights etc.




Factories in Batam as a rule typically only employ young women (it used to be the virginity was also tested!).  Lindquist writes about Indonesian women have migrated from all over Indonesia to Batam to work in the factories:


“As unexpected as it might seem, migrant women sometimes wear Muslim veils or take ecstasy in the same places and for the same reasons,” writes Lindquist. The factories, as a rule, employs only young single, high-school educated females. These young women may feel ashamed because they have travelled to demonstrate their personal development; but often fail to save money and ‘get ahead’ and be maju. To be maju is to be up-to-date, developed, cutting edge. A country that has made itself maju is Korea or Japan; a Muslim that has made herself maju would be sophisticated and embody the latest in practice and thinking about Islam [which would include wearing the veil]. The opposite of maju is to be backward, rural, traditional. Migration is about becoming maju and not malu (modest, shy, embarrassed).
Batamindo Industrial Complex

“In conversations with workers who wore the veil it was clear that most of them began to do so only after they had arrived on Batam. The typical response to my enquiry about this was that they had only just ‘become aware’ (baru sadar). For instance, Widya, from the city of Yogyakarta in Central Java, claimed that she had always wanted to wear a jilbab before she came to Batam, but that it was rare there. While in Java it was easy to be branded fanatik (cf. Brenner 1998:232), on Batam one gained support not only from roommates but also from the agencies and companies that recruited them. Widya continued: ‘one of the good things about working here is that there are a lot of religious activities. In the kampung [my village of origin] it is usually only on Hari Raya [the day of celebration that breaks the Islamic fasting month] that there is anything going on.’



One aspect of personal development these young migrant women can work on is religion—there are more religious activities and information sessions than where they came from. Wearing the veil (jilbab) is part of this religious development; they need not return to their home feeling malu, even if they have little money saved, at least the veil shows they are developed. Lindquist writes:
In the [Batam industrial] estate, however, it is possible to take part in religious activities on a daily basis, either in the main mosque or in a wide variety of organizations that are organized through particular companies or by community-based groups created by workers and supported by the estate management. The interests of the workers, the companies, and the local government appear to converge, as the movement of workers is restricted to the mosque (or the church), the dormitories, and the factory. The development of the [Batam] industrial estate is matched by the spiritual development of the worker” (Lindquist 2004, 493).

At a more complex level, Lindquist ties wearing a jilbab in with morality, affect, subjectivity, nationalism, migration and various other concepts. According to Winarnita (2011) for Lindquist, modesty/shame/shyness or malu is:
a key emotional trope [for female migrants to Batam]…Lindquist argues that in migration malu should be understood in relation to representations connected to the originating nation…to him malu is an important starting point for thinking about the motivations and actions of Indonesian migrants in negotiating their hopes and frustrations. [Lindquist] he sees the women migrants as having agency in which malu becomes a reflexive management of appearances in the face of dramatic economic and social change.
You want to show how advanced you are by succeeding in migration both in earning a wage and becoming a better Muslim. Thus wearing a veil symbolises to others that one has become advanced or maju.


Symbolic Significance

The veil could thus be seen as symbolising something personal for the wearer herself (such as her personal journey to Batam). She also sends out message to others about herself, whether it be that she is malu or tahasham. To understand these different levels of symbolism it is useful to refer to the great anthropological debate regarding hair.

Summary

So for Lindquist failing in migration makes female workers feel malu. To deal with this feeling of malu, the sex workers take ecstasy. Those who work in factories want to feel like they have 'made it' and one way of showing of success is religious development. And one sign of religious development is wearing a veil. When the workers go back home, they wear a veil, they can feel less malu. Feelings of malu lie behind both taking ecstasy (for sex workers) and wearing a veil (for factory workers).
For Abu Lughod, writing about Bedouins, wearing a veil is also related to feelings of hasham

Reflection

I think of hasham and malu as important symbols and feelings. The feelings/states they relate to include modesty, humility, shame, shyness, coyness, chastity etc.

Tuesday, 28 August 2018

12. Bidasari: Interpreting a Fairytale (Revision)


In this section, I want to introduce to the enchanted Malay fairy-tale entitled "Bidasari". Bidasari is one of my favorite folk tales; I hope you'll enjoy it too. I've paraphrased Frazer's version of the story, but please feel free to read the original in The Golden Bough. Below the story, I have outlined Frazer's analysis and set you some questions in order to revise some other theories of symbols we have covered.



 The story of Bidasari

This is the story of a beautiful young woman called Bidasari and how a beautiful and evil Queen tried to kill her. It's like Snow White. 

“Once upon a time in the city of Indrapura there was a merchant who was rich, but he had no children. One day, as he walked with his wife by the river, they found a baby girl, beautiful like an angel. So they adopted the child and called her Bidasari. The merchant had a golden fish. Using magic, he put the soul of his adopted daughter into the fish. Then he put the golden fish in a golden box full of water. Then he hid the box in a pond in his garden. In time, Bidasari grew to be a lovely woman.

Now the King of Indrapura had a fair young queen. The young queen worried that the king might marry another woman. The young queen heard that Bidasari was beautiful and charming. The young queen decided to kill Bidasari. She started Bidasari. But Bidasari could not die, because her soul was not in her.

But Bidasari could not stand being hit by the queen. She  said to the queen, “If you want to kill me, you must bring the box which is in the pond in my father’s garden.” So the box was brought and opened, and there was the golden fish in the water. Bidasari said, “My soul is in that fish. In the morning you must take the fish out of the water, and in the evening you must put it back into the water. Do not let the fish lie about, but tie it on a string around your neck. If you do this, I shall soon die.”

So the queen took the fish out of the box and tied the fish around her neck; and no sooner had she done so than Bidasari fell into a deep sleep like she was dead. But in the evening, when the fish was put back into the water, Bidasari woke up again.

The queen realized that now she could control Bidasari; she didn’t need to kill Bidasari. So she sent Bidasari home to her adopted parents. To save Bidasari from further being punished by the queen any more, her parents took her away from the city. So in a lonely and remote spot, they built a house and took Bidasari there. There she dwelt all alone. 

Every morning the evil queen took the goldfish out of the box and tied it around her neck. And all day long, while the fish was out of the water, Bidasari remained in a deep sleep. In the evening, when the evil queen put fish back into the water, Bidasari woke up.

One day, the king went out hunting. He came upon the house where Bidasari lay in a deep sleep. He fell in love in love with her immediately; it was love at first sight. But when tried to wake her up, but couldn’t. The next day, towards evening, he came back to the house, but he found her still asleep. Later though, when darkness fell, Bidasari woke up and told the king the secret of her life. So the king returned to the palace, took the fish from the queen, and put it in water to stay there. Bidasari now could live a normal life, and the king married her. And they lived happily ever after. The end. 

Frazer's analysis

To analyze this, let's start at the beginning of modern anthropology, with Frazer. Frazer analyses this story as an instance of the (mistaken) magical belief that the soul is something that can be separated from the body. 


Unable to conceive of life abstractly as a “permanent possibility of sensation” or a “continuous adjustment of internal arrangements to external relations,” the savage thinks of it as a concrete material thing of a definite bulk, capable of being seen and handled, kept in a box or jar, and liable to be bruised, fractured, or smashed in pieces.
Even if separated, the soul can still keep the person alive: 
it may be absent from his body and still continue to animate him by virtue of a sort of sympathy or action at a distance. So long as this object which he calls his life or soul remains unharmed, the man is well; if it is injured, he suffers; if it is destroyed, he dies. Or, to put it otherwise, when a man is ill or dies, the fact is explained by saying that the material object called his life or soul, whether it be in his body or out of it, has either sustained injury or been destroyed.
In fact, it might be safer if it is kept separate: 
But there may be circumstances in which, if the life or soul remains in the man, it stands a greater chance of sustaining injury than if it were stowed away in some safe and secret place.
Frazer thus analyzes the Bidasari fairytale as an instance of the belief in the external soul in inanimate things.

Other analysis

Now you might like to test yourself to see if you can apply the theories accurately. Imagine I wrote the following 7 passages drawing on different theorists for my analysis. Which theorist have I drawn on.  to help, I'll give you a clue: I've used all but one of the following theories: FrazerDurkheimFreud, Jung, Levi-Strauss, GeertzOrtner, and Douglas. Which of these theories is not represented in the following?

  1. Bidasari expresses unconscious desires. This is why we enjoy telling and hearing the story. The Oedipus story expresses the male's desire for union with his mother and resentment of the father as an intruder into his relationship. In the Bidasari story, by contrast, the young girl desires her father and resents the mother. She projects evil feelings towards her mother, in the figure of the wicked step-mother/queen. The King is a substitute for Bidasari's actual merchant father. 
  2. Bidasari expresses the unique status of the goldfish. My analysis holds that the golden fish that lives in a pond in the Bidasari tale is clearly a goldfish. The object of comparative interest in Malay culture, the goldfish does not fit into Malay symbolic categories. Malays have categories for fish that belong in the ocean; as well as, lakes and streams. But all of these are wild. The goldfish, by contrast, has been bred, domesticated, and can even be trained for hand feeding. It defies the normal categories of 'fish' in the Malay world. In all cultures, objects that do not fit into set categories may be attributed with supernatural powers. The goldfish for Malays could thus be compared to the frog figure in European fairy tales; an animal that belongs neither to land or water and yet possesses magical capabilities. 
  3. Bidasari expresses universally held tendencies to produce symbols of women with dual characteristics of evil (the King's first wife) or good (Bidsari, the King's second wife). 
  4.  Bidasari expresses an ancient belief that the soul can be safely stored in another object. The same motif of the soul of the priest/King can be stored in a tree 'branch' that occurs in the story of Balder the Beautiful. 
  5. Bidasari generates meaning from symbolic contrasts between life and death; human and animal, being childless and being fertile; night and day; being asleep and being awake. While the Queen has the fish, Bidasari is neither dead nor fully alive, but in a kind of zombie state. Bidasari is part human and part animal, in as much as her soul resides in a goldfish. Being adopted; she is part daughter and part not-daughter. She sleeps during the day and wakes during the night--which contradicts the usual association of sleep with night and being awake with the day.  
  6. Bidasari should not be read as an instance of 'savage', mistaken belief. In fact, in contemporary America, many people believe that the soul is something that can be separated from the body. Most who profess life after death hold onto some form of this 'doctrine of the soul' identified by Frazer. The soul does not refer to scientific reality, but rather a deeper reality. It's not a reality that can be tested through experiment. It is a reality that you must first believe in, then you will see. All cultures possess this deeper version of reality. It is one of the ways we make sense of life. 
  7. To understand the Bidasari story, we really need to turn to its social function. Who tells the story and where? How does the telling of the story assist in creating social connections in maintaining society? Just hearing the story out of context tells us nothing about Malay society. 
For more on this fairytale, you might want to read Bidasari: Jewel of Malay Muslim Culture.

Further Study: Bidasari & Snow White

You probably noticed similarities between the stories of Bidasari and Snow White. These include:
  1. Both are beautiful young maidens
  2. Both have lost their birth mother
  3. Both are hated for their beauty by an evil queen
  4. Both fall into a deep slumber.
  5. A ruler (king and prince) falls in love with, rescues, and marries both.
The two stories are recounted in different parts of the world. Snow White is a fairytale from Europe while Bidasari is from Malay areas of Southeast Asia. How do we account for these and other similarities?

It could be a coincidence that the two stories are similar.

It could be that the Bidasari story spread to Europe or the Snow White story spread to the Malay world. (This explanation would be an instance of what we call "diffusionism".)

It could be that an older story from our prehistoric ancestors tens of thousands of years ago has stayed with us as we humans spread from Africa to Europe and Southeast Asia. (This explanation views culture and language--including stories, beliefs etc.--as survivals of the past)

It could be that both stories serve a specific use in each society--if they didn't the stories would have disappeared. (This would be an instance of the functionalist approach)

In fact, we could turn to all of the theories we have studied in this course to try to explain the apparent similarities. Your job as a student is to understand the theories and make up your own mind about which fi any theories can apply. If none of the theories seem suitable, then your challenge is to come up with a new one!