The political failure of Indonesian Islamists

Indonesian Islamist politicians must be looking with envy at the victory of Islamist parties in Egypt and Tunisia in the wake of the Arab Spring. The Islamist parties here have contested three democratic elections since Indonesia turned to democracy in 1998, but despite their 14-year head start they pooled only 26 percent of the votes in the last election in 2009. Their own fragmentation hasn't helped; the election spoils are shared by four political parties.

Indonesia is often cited in the West as the ideal model that emerging Arab democracies should follow. Muslims officially account for more than 85 percent of its 240 million people, making Indonesia not only the country with the largest Muslim population, but also often cited as the largest democracy among Muslim-majority nations. Some would even describe Indonesia as the "largest Muslim democracy," although this is something of a misnomer considering that Indonesia is not an Islamic state (the constitution guarantees freedom of religion) and the Islamists are not anywhere close to ruling the country.

Indonesia had its own spring fourteen years ago with the end of three decades of Suharto's authoritarian rule, which had suppressed political Islam. But even with their newfound freedom, the Islamists have been struggling to convince the majority of Muslim voters to support their causes, which range from implementing sharia to making Indonesia an Islamic state.

The lion's share of the votes in all three elections (1999, 2004, and 2009) has gone to secular and inclusive parties that campaigned on more popular issues, such as anti-corruption, economic prosperity, justice, and freedom. Religion is not a popular political commodity.

The large electoral victories in the post-Arab Spring elections give the new rulers in Egypt and Tunisia a relatively free hand in pushing their Islamist agenda. Turkey, another Muslim-majority democracy, is also ruled by an Islamist party.

In Indonesia, all four Islamist parties represented in the House of Representatives squeezed themselves into power by joining the coalition government under President Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono. But with minimal voter support, the Prosperous Justice Party (PKS), the National Mandate Party (PAN), the United Development Party (PPP), and the National Awakening Party (PKB) are treated as junior partners in the coalition, leaving them little room to push their Islamist reforms. The PKS, which shares the same ideology as the Muslim Brotherhood in Egypt, is the largest of the four, winning 7.8 percent of the votes in 2009 and now has three seats in Yudhoyono's cabinet. The other Islamist parties have two seats each.

Any suggestion that the election victories for Islamists in the emerging democracies in North Africa would somehow rub off on Indonesian voters seems more like a pipe dream.

Recent opinion polls indicate that the Islamist parties may be further marginalized in the next elections in 2014, with none making it in the top five most popular parties among voters. The field is still dominated by parties that project themselves as nationalists and inclusive such as President Yudhoyono's Democratic Party, the Golkar Party, and the Indonesian Democratic Party of Struggle (PDI-P). Even two new and up-and-coming parties, the Greater Indonesia Movement Party (Gerindra) and the National Democratic Party (Nasdem), are more popular among voters than the Islamist parties.

Some westerners, who tend to be more concerned about the rise of the Islamists in Arab countries and what this means for the Israel-Palestinian conflict, ask why the secular Arab parties couldn't have prevailed the way secularists have in Indonesia. In Indonesia, among the Islamists, the question tends to be posed the other way around: Why haven't the Indonesian Islamist parties managed to triumph like their Arab brothers, given that 85 percent of the people are Muslims?

One factor is the constant infighting that has dogged the Islamists. They may share the same ideology, but not everyone is on board with the move to sharia or the transformation of Indonesia into an Islamic state. The PKB and the PAN, for example, are trying to project themselves as inclusive parties and count non-Muslims among their constituents. They are considered Islamic because they are backed primarily by major Islamic organizations, respectively the Nahdlatul Ulama and Muhammadiyah, but have never really pushed the Islamist political lines like the other two.

Initiatives to unite the Islamist parties into one single big coalition to contest the elections tend to crash as soon as the talk turns to the issue of leadership. Everyone insists on leading the party, and more importantly, on securing the presidential nomination for one of their own leaders.

Corruption is another major factor that affects their public image, with voters likely to punish the Islamist parties more harshly than the equally scandal-ridden secular parties. The simple reason is that the Islamists come across as greater hypocrites when their foibles are juxtaposed against their supposedly moral messages.

More important, however, is the voting behavior of Indonesians. While most Indonesians of all religious persuasions run their lives observing religious rituals and traditions, not everyone agrees in mixing religion and politics. Some may be persuaded that they are obliged by their religion to vote for Islamist parties, but their number has not been large enough to give the Islamists enough political power to run the country.

The nearest they ever come was in Indonesia's first democratic election in 1955, when together they pooled more than 40 percent. An informal coalition between the two largest Islamist parties, Masyumi and Nahdlatul Ulama, did not last long as each had a different agenda. The Islamist parties were suppressed throughout the Suharto years, but when they were allowed to contest elections in a more democratic Indonesia after 1999, they learned that conditions have changed and that a more democratic and educated society has even less appetite for mixing politics and religion.

For now and the foreseeable future, the Islamist parties will continue to play second fiddle to the secular and inclusive parties in Indonesia.


Democracy Lab

A political comic book comes back to life in Egypt

My father recently bought a new copy of an old book. We couldn't buy it earlier because it was virtually impossible to get one when Hosni Mubarak was president. You'll understand why when you hear the title: Dictatorship for Beginners: Bahgatos, President of Greater Bahgatia. (You can see a copy here -- in Arabic, but you don't have to understand the text to enjoy it).

It's a slim comic book, a pearl of Arab political satire, and the brainchild of caricaturist extraordinaire Bahgat Osman. Because it was banned for decades, I was recently surprised and delighted to find the book suddenly available on the Egyptian market -- and subsidized by the Egyptian government at that.

Let me explain.

Bahgatos, the book's protagonist, is the quintessential Arab dictator, and almost every Arab citizen (and beyond) will see parts of his or her ruler in him.

Clad in a military uniform festooned with bottle-cap medals, and surrounded by walls covered with portraits of his august ancestors (i.e., thieves and robbers), Bahgatos goes about his daily life, consolidating his dictatorship while enjoying the praise of his minions.

The book takes us through the life and practice of a tyrant, poking fun at Bahgatos' corruption, violence, idiocy, and hypocrisy, all through simple, amusing, and cringe-inducing drawings. Here are a few of my favorite bits: "Bahgatos takes a bath," titles the government newspaper -- and, then for good measure, follows up with "repercussions of Bahgatos' bath in world capitals." In another, he worships a dollar bill. In a third, one of his subjects, hands bound and clothes tattered, lies at his feet; in the adjacent panel, Bahgatos kneels at the feet of the U.S. ambassador. (In the image shown above, the statue of liberty is burning a book called "law." Bahgatos, on the right, is depicted seated on two of his subjects, above a caption reading "The Great Bahgatos, deeply settled in the hearts of the public.")

Bahgatia's minister of youth, we also learn, is a baby -- the dictator's son. Bahgatos decapitates a pen, bribes foreign journalists singing his praises, has a tailor for a lawmaker, and three faceless "see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil" counselors. My favorite picture depicts a Bahgatian ballot with three options: "yes," "two yeses," and "multiple yeses." The comics go on for 60 pages that I wish I could reproduce here.

Bahgat Osman (or simply "Bahgat," as he always signed his work) depicted his cartoon potentate with his own physical traits in order to avoid any similarities with existing dictators and hoping that this would give him a wider margin of freedom. The ruler took offense anyway. Bahgat was forced to leave Egypt to Kuwait in the 1970s after a spat with then-President Anwar El Sadat, only to return in the early 1980s, when he dedicated himself to his other passion, children's books and illustrations. From then on he eschewed all confrontation with the state. He quietly passed away in 2001.

A Lebanese publishing house published his Bahgatos booklet in 1989, but it was impossible to find in Cairo's libraries for the past two decades. New generations of readers were introduced to Bahgatos' adventures via the Internet. Friends downloaded copies of the PDF from free hosting sites and sent it to each other. But now Dictatorship for Beginners is on sale across the nation, available even from newspaper vendors for the modest price of two Egyptian pounds (33 cents US).

The book is one of many cheap books on sale every summer, the product of a subsidized publishing scheme administered by the "General Egyptian Book Organization" called "Reading for All." Each year GEBO sells hundreds of different titles at minimal prices. Until 2010, every single book published carried on its back cover the photo of the project's patron, Suzanne Mubarak. It is a truly amazing project, one which helped many Egyptians families over the past two decades to build an affordable home library that includes poetry, literature, philosophy, and other genres. Over the years I bought dozens of titles myself, from Biram El-Tounsi to Naguib Mahfouz and Kant, on topics ranging from genetics to politics. These subsidized books have probably helped shape the cultural consciousness of a generation of Egyptians.

As I browsed through the Bahgatos booklet, I found myself wondering why this book was unbanned, and why the people in charge of selecting titles for this year's campaign chose it. It's rather hard to escape the irony that the work is now enjoying broad exposure thanks, in part, to Ms. Mubarak, the wife of our own recent Bahgatos.

Did someone at GEBO want the Egyptian public to laugh at their previous military dictator? Did they see this as a way to differentiate the new civilian president from his predecessors? Or was this supposed to be a signal from the state about freedom of expression? If so, the latter will be hard case to prove. On the job for only a few weeks, Mohamed Morsi has quickly shown himself to be no more tolerant of the media than his predecessor. A look at the government mouthpiece Al-Ahram and other state-owned newspapers (not to mention the Muslim Brotherhood's daily pamphlet "Justice and Freedom," named after the Brotherhood's political party) shows that their editors are obediently reporting Morsi's every move and showering him with praise.

A little like Bahgatos, one might say.

Mohamed El Dahshan also blogs at, and you can follow him