Ethnography

There have not been many academic writings on Aceh that mentioned women’s organizations other than Flower Aceh. Flower Aceh has often received more of both national and international recognition.

Since it was officially established in 1998, MISPI has been able to maintain and even expand its programmes. The organization began from the activities of Syiah Kuala University activists and graduates who were concerned about the life of Acehnese women. In the early stages, MISPI works on improving women’s access to economy. It received its first grant from the Canadian International Development Agency (CIDA) in 1998 to work on improving Acehnese women’s economy.

One reason to select MISPI as the case study is the fact that compared to other local women’s NGOs, MISPI has demonstrated a unique character in the broader context of promoting women’s awareness of their status, such as equality in Islam and women’s civic and political rights. MISPI has, for example, actively sought to advocate public policy reform while at the same time introduce the rights of women in Islam since Islamic law was introduced in 1999. MISPI believes that women are a social group that could be disadvantaged by the implementation of Islamic law. In pursuing this agenda, MISPI has organized various programmes from training law-makers on legal drafting and gender awareness, organized seminars and workshops with religious male and female Ulama, jurists, scholars and civil society activists, on issues pertaining to women and sharia, as well as providing legal aid to female victims of violence.

Organizational capacity

At the time of my research, MISPI employed seven professional staff. Three of them were working as administrative officials, while three others were responsible for running programmes, and one of them was a lawyer.

MISPI’s office is located at Simpang Lima, in the heart of the city of Banda Aceh, walking distance from the landmark Grand Mosque of Baiturrahman,⁹ and close to the central market of Banda Aceh.¹⁰ MISPI’s new office is in a three-storey building that it has rented since the tsunami. MISPI’s previous office was destroyed by the tsunami, causing huge losses to its archives.

The arrival of foreign NGOs and international donors has allowed MISPI to develop more networks, with the result that MISPI has been inundated by various projects. In my observation, many of the international donors and foreign institutions have more interest in working and building cooperation with MISPI than with more newly-established women’s NGOs. One official of an international NGO said that the decision to work with MISPI was based on the assessment that MISPI has demonstrated its capacity to run programmes on women’s issues (interview, Banda Aceh, 12 March 2007). In addition, foreign donors regard MISPI as one of the local women’s NGOs that has gained wider recognition among the local Acehnese, including that it has a wide network with policy-makers and the government offices. This can be understood as international NGOs often just want to be practical and make sure that their programmes will run well. They do not want to take the risk of working with a new, untested organization. So, for example, the country manager of UNIFEM (interview, Banda Aceh, 23 March 2007) said that international NGOs have to make a pragmatic decision in choosing a local partner because they are responsible to donors to ensure their money is well spent.

Inundated by programmes from donors, MISPI usually organizes two or three consecutive trainings and seminars in a given week. It was remarkable for me to see how effectively a relatively small number of staff can organize these training and workshops, designed for different audiences and on different issues. For example, on the first three days in one week, I observed MISPI organize and deliver training on empowering local women Ulama in different districts in Aceh. Over the next three days, it organized training on building women’s peace networks with Acehnese men and women of different social backgrounds. In the following week, MISPI organized a seminar on empowering women members of local parliament. From these activities, MISPI works heavily in line with the campaigns on women’s equality, which in this case is equality based on Islamic teachings and women’s civil and political rights.

All the seminars, workshops and training that MISPI organizes are usually held in three- or four-star hotels in Banda Aceh. However, as explained, this really depends on the support they receive from donors. MISPI provides participants with hotel accommodation, especially for those who come from outside Banda Aceh. MISPI also reimburses participants for transportation costs incurred and they also receive an honorarium, about IDR 150,000 per day, equal to AUD$ 90.¹¹ I asked an official of an international NGO about paying money to those who participate in these seminars, and it was explained that the money is to compensate for the time that the participants have to spend to attend seminars, instead of at their usual activities (interview with IDLO staff, Banda Aceh, 12 March 2007). Other expenses incurred from these activities include the cost of renting the venue, provision of food during the training and honoraria for speakers. During the time of my fieldwork, MISPI obtained support from foreign NGOs including the Asia Foundation, UNDP (United Nations Development Program), UNIFEM (United Nations Development Fund for Women) and Yayasan TIFA, as well as several other foreign NGOs.

Leadership

Effective NGO leaders are able to balance a range of competing pressures from different stakeholders in ways that do not compromise their individual identity and values (Hailey and Rick 2004, 343). Since NGOs work for the marginalized and disadvantaged members of communities, the leadership of NGOs face extraordinary challenges as they work with very limited resources, in uncertain and volatile political situations and economic circumstances. Based on this, it becomes important to analyse the leadership of MISPI in order to understand how MISPI has obtained legitimacy from a range of institutions such as local governments, donors and its grassroots constituency.

The success of MISPI in organizing seminars, workshops and training cannot be separated from the role of Syarifah Rahmatillah, the current leader of MISPI. Syarifah is considered one of the most important female figures in Aceh during the post-tsunami reconstruction period. In her capacity as the leader of MISPI, Syarifah has tried to represent herself as an Acehnese Muslim woman who strongly upholds her religious and cultural values, as I will explain later.

From a number of conversations I had with activists, government officials and lawmakers, Syarifah’s family are believed to be the descendants of the Prophet Muhammad. This belief derives from the Acehnese tradition that only descendants of the Prophet can name their daughter ‘Syarifah’.

Syarifah’s identity as an NGO activist is influenced by her previous involvement in the 1990s student movements. She started her activism while taking a law degree at Syiah Kuala University, having completed her primary and secondary education at a public school in Banda Aceh. When she was at the university, she became involved in the university student association (Badan Executive Mahasiswa or BEM), the Faculty of Law Student Senate and also the university-level Student Senate. She later joined KOHATI (Korps HMI-Wati), a women’s wing of the nationally based Muslim Student Organization or Himpunan Mahasiswa Islam (HMI), before being elected as head of the organization. When she graduated, Syarifah continued her activism by joining ICMI (All Indonesian Union of Muslims Intellectuals), created in December 1990 in Malang, East Java.¹² Syarifah is married to the former leader of HMI Banda Aceh, who later became a lawyer and in 2004 was elected as a member of a local legislature representing Partai Bulan Bintang (PBB or the Crescent Star Party).¹³ Syarifah then became a civil servant (PNS or Pegawai Negeri Sipil) at the Badan Pertanahan Nasional or Indonesian National Land Agency in Banda Aceh. Before the 2004 general election, Syarifah became a member of the KPU (Komisi Pemilihan Umum or the General Election Commission).¹⁴ Although a public official, her enthusiasm for social activism did not stop, as she was then involved in Duek Pakat Inong Aceh (Aceh Women’s Congress), being elected to its steering committee, and later its board.

Many believed that Syarifah’s HMI activist background and her strong network among former members of HMI in the government bureaucracy and in civil society organizations have influenced her rise in civil society activism. This is probably true, as I observed that in her capacity as the leader of MISPI, Syarifah used her HMI and KOHATI networks to develop her organization. For example, she recruited only those who have KOHATI backgrounds to work at MISPI. To this, Syarifah argued she had to be pragmatic in terms of recruiting former HMI- KOHATI activists. With limited resources, MISPI did not have enough resources to train women to be activists. These HMI-KOHATI activists already understand civil society activism, are familiar with problems faced by women, and know what it is like to work in an organization. Her position at KPU also further enhanced her access among government officials from the district to provincial level. All these links add to Syarifah’s credentials, and boost her leverage among other local women activists.

Islamic piety

This section discusses how personnel at MISPI express their religious piety. This is because it is important to understand how MISPI staff understand their religion, and how it is reflected in their work as NGO activists.

As mentioned earlier, at the time of my research there were about six permanent and four casual staff working at MISPI. As in all other women’s NGOs in Aceh nearly all the staff at MISPI are women. There is only one male employee, and he works as a general helper, with tasks that include cleaning the office and acting as a porter. This is interesting. MISPI is actually not the only women’s organization that employs men as the office general helpers. One of the staff told me that it is part of their campaign that male employees are engaged to do all the general household jobs, when normally in Indonesia these jobs are assigned to women and are perceived to be ‘women’s jobs’.

As said before, MISPI activists come mostly from a KOHATI-HMI background. Religious piety is clearly visible in the everyday activities of the office. At every prayer time, all staff members perform the prayer. After lunch, staff will queue to perform the ablutions required before prayer. In the afternoon, before they go home, they also perform Ashar or afternoon prayer at the office. Everyone brings their own prayer clothing. There is no special room for them to pray so they just do it next to their desks. Even during busy times, for example, in the middle of training, they still perform their prayers, in turn.

Women who work at MISPI wear Islamic dress, like other Acehnese women: skirt, blouse, tunic and jilbab. In her research on RAHIMA, a Muslim women’s organization based in Jakarta, Rinaldo (2008, 4) observes that women activists at RAHIMA wear a different style of Muslim clothing. She observes that the younger staff at RAHIMA wear a more ‘stylish ensemble of Muslim clothing’ such as tight jeans with tight shirts, while the senior workers wear more modest clothing. I noticed a different situation at MISPI. Staff that work on a casual basis, many recent graduates from university, wear more conservative Muslim attire. This difference might be attributed to the desire of the younger generation to abide by the Islamic law or it may also be understood as a result of Acehnese youth wishing to express a higher level of Islamic piety than Muslim youth in Jakarta.

Smith-Hefner (2007) writes on her research in Yogyakarta that Muslim women use different styles of Muslim dress, including wearing headscarves with jeans. At MISPI, women also express their religiosity through different styles of Muslim fashion. As mentioned earlier, those who have recently joined MISPI tend to choose stricter Muslim attire. They wear the jilbab, which Smith-Hefner (2007, 390) describes as ‘a large square piece of fabric, which is drawn tightly around the face to cover hair, ears and neck completely’. The large fabric square may cover the shoulders and chest, although some hang down to the navel. Women mix Muslim attire with wearing loose blouses that cover down to their knees, and ankle-length skirts and socks. During my time in the field, I never saw younger or newly-employed staff wearing pants.

The senior staff, however, prefer different ways of wearing their Muslim attire. Unlike the younger ones, these senior staff (most in their early and mid thirties) rarely wear skirts, nor do they wear the same style of big jilbab. Although their jilbab is typically made of the same kind of fabric, they wear smaller versions, which only cover their hair, ears and neck. Their blouses are not loose and on occasion some choose to wear tight or ‘fitted’ clothes. Senior staff also demonstrate a strong passion for creative Muslim fashion, and seem to be obsessed with wearing fake-branded handbags and watches.¹⁵ In fact, it becomes part of their lunch conversation about going to Medan, in North Sumatra province, a 30-minute flight from Banda Aceh, to buy these fake handbags, Gucci and Louis Vuitton. To me this simply reflects Smith-Hefner’s argument that veiling can also be seen as a symbol of women’s engagement in a modern, albeit deeply Islamic, world (2007, 395).

Syarifah, however, has her own style of Muslim attire. She often wears a traditional, Aceh-type baju kurung, which consists of a loose-fitting tunic draped down to her knee and loose skirts that cover up to her ankle. Unlike her casual staff, she chooses bright colours, and complements the baju kurung with silk or chiffon colourful jilbab. She matches her jilbab with her clothes, and puts a matching and colorful brooch on her jilbab. She also always wears a small amount of makeup. One of the staff once told me that Syarifah is actually very strict on the Muslim dress issue. So, for example, she always warns her staff not to wear tight blouses, tight pants or small jilbabs. She especially emphasized this to those staff that are responsible for organizing events. She does not want participants who attend MISPI’s events to judge them by their clothing. This is because the conservative religious community, including the Ulama and government officials, still believe that women can be divided into good/bad Muslims only by looking at the way women choose their dresses and how they cover their hair.

MISPI staff are aware that their clothing attracts the attention of people at the events they organize. In one of the workshops attended by men and women Ulama at the Hotel Sultan in Banda Aceh in January 2008, Murni, one member of the MISPI staff, received a cynical comment from a male Ulama regarding the dress that she was wearing. She was wearing tight jeans, and a tight-fitting blouse with a small jilbab, covering only her hair and neck The male Ulama whispered to her that she should wear something else. She was annoyed and grunted:

They called themselves Ulama, but they do not understand that there is a verse in the Qur’an that calls men to protect their eyes from seeing any [bad] thing.

This teaching is contained in Surah An-Nur 30:31 of the Qur’an, in which it says, ‘Katakanlah kepada laki-laki yang beriman, agar mereka menjaga pandangannya’ or ‘tell the believing men to watch where they look’. In her understanding, this verse teaches that the Ulama or men should avoid looking at her [woman] if he thinks that her dress is inappropriate. Thus, she said to me that she wished she could yell back at the Ulama, and tell him to stop looking at her dress.¹⁶ Murni graduated from the Faculty of Sharia of the State Institute of Islamic Studies (IAIN) Ar-Raniry. She understands well the debate on women’s clothing in Islam. She is also familiar with the discourse introduced by Fatima Mernissi, Amina Wadud and Asghar Ali Engineer on gender equality message in Islam.

I notice that this issue of women’s dress does indeed occupy Syarifah’s attention. One day, for example, she told me that she resented the way some of her colleagues in the women’s movement show reluctance to wear what she considered to be ‘proper’ Muslim clothing and jilbab.¹⁷ By ‘reluctance’ (malas) Syarifah wanted to say that these activists do not properly wear a modest jilbab like she does.¹⁸ Apart from saying that it is part of the Islamic tradition, Syarifah is mostly concerned that for the movement to gain acceptance, they need to first win the hearts and minds of the society, in particular, the religious Ulama. It is, she said, not too hard to be done. Most of the women activists involved in the movement wear small jilbab covering their hair into their neck, or kerudung or scarf, draped over their hair, and some of them even only wear a shawl and let it drape to their shoulders.¹⁹

MISPI’s position on Muslim clothing as discussed above clearly shows its Islamic credentials, which for many conservative Acehnese is an important gesture. I would add that from her position on the issue of women’s clothing and veiling, Syarifah shows that veiling and women’s clothing cannot be seen merely as symbols of Islamic traditionalism or domestic confinement. Syarifah’s veiling proves that it can be also a vehicle for women to exercise their mobility and to gain public acceptance for their political activism, as Smith-Hefner has argued (2007, 397).