The research

The data for this research comes from an ethnographic approach. It is based on analysis of primary and secondary resources in both Indonesian and English. The primary data for this book was obtained through in-depth interviews, field notes and journal writings from participating in participant-observations during six months of fieldwork in Banda Aceh.

As there are many local women’s NGOs in Banda Aceh, I chose to focus only on those whose programmes and activities are confined to issues related to the implementation of Islamic law. In post-reconstruction Aceh, there are many other local women’s NGOs who work to provide support to fulfil women’s basic needs and healthcare. I obtained the name of local women’s NGOs from a handbook published by the Women’s Empowerment Bureau or Biro Pemberdayaan Perempuan (BIRO PP) in 2006, which compiled a list of women’s NGOs in Aceh after the tsunami. This compilation includes information on their establishment and the work they are doing.

Conducting research in Aceh at that time was quite challenging. Many foreign NGOs, international donors, and foreign consultants and international researchers were also in Aceh conducting their own research and implementing development programmes. The Acehnese were overwhelmed by ‘research’ as they talked to a large number of researchers, interviewing them to gather information. Doing fieldwork in Aceh was also challenging as many Acehnese were very traumatized by all the events they have endured, the military conflict and tsunami.

The positive side of doing research while Aceh was inundated by donors was that many of these organizations organized seminars, training or workshops on women’s issues and Islamic law. I attended more than five seminars on this subject and several other small and close discussions between activists, which allowed me to listen and talk not only with NGO activists who organized the events, but also with speakers and participants from different areas in Aceh.

The secondary data in this book includes archival materials, including local newspapers, research reports carried out by various international and national NGOs, and previous studies on Aceh. It is difficult, however, to find articles or books writing on Acehnese women, local women’s NGOs or the Acehnese women’s movement. My interviews, field notes and observations try to capture and generate firsthand experiences and data through this ethnographic approach. In analysing the data and observations thus generated, I tried to take into account the following issues. First, the way Acehnese women in various social classes observe Islam as their religion, including to what extent factors like education, economic and socio-religious backgrounds affect the way Acehnese women observe and incorporate Islamic teachings into their behaviour and their interactions within families and societies. Second, how women in general respond to the perceived victimization of women by Islamic law. In analysing this, I seek to uncover the backgrounds of women’s organizations that make Aceh’s women’s movements, their institutional capacities and the socio-educational, political and religious backgrounds of activists within these organizations. Understanding this has helped me uncover the objectives of women’s organizations and their approaches. The establishment and activisms of local women’s organizations also needs to be looked at within the context of the socio-economic and political background of Aceh.

The ethnographic field

I focused my research only in the capital city of Nanggroe Aceh Darussalam Province, Banda Aceh.⁶ I choose to focus my research here, because it is where most local, national and international organizations have their offices. Focusing on Banda Aceh also allowed me to directly observe the interaction of local activists with national-based and international activists. As the capital city, Banda Aceh is the centre of the reconstruction and rehabilitation processes in post-tsunami and post-conflict Aceh. It is not hard to see foreign people walking around the central market in the city. The four-wheel-drive vehicles of many international institutions and NGOs, such as the UN (United Nations), UNICEF (United Nations Children Fund), Oxfam, UNDP (United Nations Development Programs), GTZ (the German Technical Cooperation, aid agency), the Red Cross and Save the Children, dominate the main roads of Banda Aceh. These international organizations and foreign NGOs employ foreign expatriates as well as Indonesian nationals.⁷ This situation during my research was a great contrast to what Aceh looked like during the conflict, when it was hard for foreigners to get access. Internet cafes and Western food chains were scattered across every corner of the city, making Banda Aceh into a small international town.

My first visit began by attending the First International Conference of Aceh and Indian Ocean Studies (ICAOS), held on 24–27 February 2007.⁸ This event provided me with the opportunity to meet Acehnese scholars and activists, as well as dozens of scholars from international institutions working in Aceh.

The arrival of foreigners and other Indonesian nationals in Aceh created new social settings. The presence of foreign NGOs and international institutions has changed the socio-religious and traditional values of the Acehnese, while boosting Aceh’s economy. Some Acehnese people complained and worried about the future of Aceh when all the money goes away. With money from international donors and foreign NGOs, the inflation rates in Aceh have increased significantly. By 2005, the inflation rate reached 41.5 per cent, the highest compared to previous years. In 2006, it decreased to 9.54 per cent but rose again to 11 per cent in 2007, still higher than the national inflation rate of 6.7 per cent. This high inflation led to a rise in consumer prices and services (Furqon 2008; Kasim 2008). Acehnese and NGO workers from other parts of Indonesia call the rocketing prices ‘NGO prices’, or ‘harga NGO’, implying that the increasing prices were the result of the arrival of foreigners working for international NGOs, and, of course, their money.¹⁰

This new economic setting posed particular challenges in living in Aceh. Accommodation was in high demand as the result of the arrival of foreign workers and non-Acehnese Indonesian nationals. Not only that, the price of rental accommodation was soaring, exceeding even the average price of rental accommodation in Jakarta. In the city area, the cost of renting one bedroom in a shared house could reach almost IDR 3 million per month, equal to AUD$ 353.

The arrival of foreigners has also changed the attitudes of the Acehnese to academic work. Siapno (2007) noted that the huge amount of money poured into Aceh has affected the attitudes of academics and students in Aceh. University students are more interested in attending seminars, training or joining a research team than attending classes at university. Similarly, academics spend much of their time as researchers at international NGOs or as consultants for foreign organizations. Students chose to do this instead of attending class because of the relatively high financial compensation available. One informant, a student at the Law Faculty at Syiah Kuala University, told me that if she gets invited to be a participant in a seminar or training she receives IDR 400,000 (equal to AUD$ 48) per day, which is about half the money she receives from her parents every month, and each seminar usually lasted for two to three days (interview, Banda Aceh, 10 March 2007).

It was not only students and academics who financially benefited from the NGO-ization in Aceh. People in the market and teachers at schools also benefit. One high school teacher in Banda Aceh told me she was once asked to answer a questionnaire by an NGO (interview, Banda Aceh, 20 March 2007). After answering all the questions, which took her less than an hour, she was given an envelope with IDR 75,000 (almost AUD$ 9). She said that her school was visited three times in one week by three different NGOs conducting surveys. Each time she received an envelope containing almost the same amount of money. By contrast her weekly salary might only be IDR 200,000 or about AUD$ 23.

Some Acehnese, however, resented the changes that took place during Aceh’s reconstruction period. One local woman activist based in Lhoksemauwe blamed the international donors for changing social attitudes among the Acehnese (interview, Banda Aceh, 12 March 2007). She said that the Acehnese have changed their perception of their own environment, since foreign donors and international bodies such as the UN introduced the ‘cash for work’ programme immediately after the tsunami. This programme introduced the Acehnese to a system where people get paid for any kind of work they do, including cleaning their own gardens, their own houses and their own village or mosque. According to her, this created a perception among the Acehnese that they are entitled to receive money for their participation in any activity. She is therefore not surprised that people now demand payment for their involvement in research or surveys.

As the Acehnese are, in fact, inundated by surveys and research, an Acehnese man who worked for Oxfam reminded me that conducting research during this period of time is not easy (interview, Banda Aceh, 14 January 2008). He also mentioned how the money issue has changed Acehnese attitudes. He is concerned that some Acehnese may have not really told the truth when asked about their experiences. According to him this is because many Acehnese feel tired of being questioned. He referred to the giant billboard posted at Simpang Lima, the very centre of the city of Banda Aceh, which says:

Data itu Mahal: Membangun Tanpa Data Merpuakan Pekerjaan yang sia-sia untuk itu Bantulah Petugas Statistik Dengan Memberikan Data yang Benar. [Data is expensive. To build without data is a useless job. Therefore, help the statistician by providing the right data.]

The research positioning

Conducting research in a place where sharia is formalized offers unique challenges. As a female and Muslim researcher, the implementation of Islamic law presented another issue that I needed to deal with. Ziba Mir-Hosseini (1998, 45–46) believes that every researcher who is doing research on gender in Islam needs to clearly state her or his position on the issues. She is aware that for Muslim researchers, doing research on gender in Islam may make the researchers ‘feel at ease’ because they see Islam as part of their identity, their way of life, their culture and their value system. At the same time, Muslim researchers may also find that they are in a painful and ambiguous relationship, because according to Mir-Hosseini (1998, 46), ‘It is not easy to distinguish the personal from the political, what we see from what we want to see, while claiming that we have retained academic impartiality’.

I grew up in a pious Muslim family, and I am aware that my argument about the Acehnese women and their agency in reforming Islamic law may be influenced by my personal experience. My lived experience being a daughter of a pious Muslim family has not hindered me from feeling the freedom to express my views on various issues, however, as Muslim woman, I am aware of the discriminatory practices found in many Muslim communities that impede women’s liberation and freedom to choose, including in places like Aceh. My experience of being a female teenager who grew up during Indonesia’s authoritarian and militaristic administration meant that I did experience discrimination against women in Indonesia, albeit caused by the state’s gender policy. Therefore, I agree with Kandiyoti (1995), who has argued that it is a gross generalization to say that Muslim women are oppressed because of their religion. In her opinion, when analysing women’s lack of freedom in many Muslim societies it is necessary to consider whether encounters by Muslim societies with colonialism and post-colonial nation-building projects may have contributed to women’s subjugation (Kandiyoti 1995, 23–24).

I am not ruling out the argument that Acehnese women may lose access to freedoms and to participate in politics as Islamic law is implemented. But I was also keen to see how Aceh’s transition to democracy, which is taking place within the context of a broader democratization in Indonesia, allowed Acehnese women to participate in politics, including by influencing government policy in the implementation of Islamic law.¹² Having friends with Acehnese backgrounds, I understand they have strong opinions about their religion. I was convinced that Acehnese women, in fact, have the ability to manoeuvre effectively within the spaces that are available to them to engage in policy-making, as can be seen from the making of some Qanun in Aceh.¹³

Despite my position towards this research, I encountered challenges as how I should position myself as regards the subjects of my research. Unlike female research students from abroad, as an Indonesian and a Muslim I must abide by Islamic law.¹⁴ Muslim clothing is one of my major concerns, as it is heavily regulated under Islamic law in Aceh. Although I have been wearing Muslim dress for more than 15 years and have covered my hair, I still fear that my understanding of what constitutes Muslim dress is not the same as that subscribed to by many Acehnese. I heard, for example, that it is not acceptable for women to wear trousers in Aceh, while I have often worn trousers and still saw myself as following Islamic norms. I considered the issue of how I should dress while undertaking research for my book to be an essential one, as Wolf (1996, 8) has argued that entering fieldwork is always difficult and may pose particular challenges for women because of their gender identity. Women are more likely to conform to local gender norms, which may create difficulties and dilemmas for feminist researchers. Thus, I tried to make sure that I followed Acehnese women’s practices in wearing Muslim clothing, as I did not want this issue to jeopardize my research and lead the Acehnese to form ‘negative’ impressions of me.

I was also aware of the problems that I might encounter by developing relationships with the subjects of my research. Harding and Norberg (2005) have pointed out that during fieldwork a researcher must negotiate her power and knowledge with the informant. I was aware that the Acehnese women activists who are the subject of my research might attempt to define or steer my project for several reasons, and indeed, in my first encounters with women activists, I found it challenging to position myself and my research. One of the senior activists asked me why as a non-Acehnese I researched about women in Aceh. When she found out that I am originally from West Sumatra, she asked me why I did not conduct research on Minangkabau women in West Sumatra as sharia-derived PERDA have also been introduced in this region. I also found that my identity as a Minangkabau woman did not make it easier for me to gain acceptance, although I had thought it would give me some advantage, due to the cultural and religious proximity between Aceh and Minangkabau. One Acehnese sociologist, however, explained to me that many Acehnese resent the Minangkabau, because some feel Islam developed faster in West Sumatra than in Aceh, where the Acehnese believe it first penetrated Sumatra (interview, Banda Aceh, 17 March 2007). Later, the Acehnese had to travel to West Sumatra to gain Islamic education from modern Islamic educational institutions.¹⁵

Another activist posed the question of why I was interested in looking at women under Islamic law, as many other foreign researchers have already done similar research. This activist was particularly troubled by the fact that those who write about women and Islamic law have no attachment to Islam, and no experience living under Islamic values, so she doubted that their work can really reflect reality. I am not Acehnese and I have no experience living under either conflict or Islamic law. These two factors created perceptions among the local activists, that I lacked adequate knowledge to approach my research. Finally, my identity as an international student who is doing a PhD based on a scholarship provided by a Western country added to the perception of the Acehnese that my research was deliberately arranged or manipulated by my university, that is ‘the West’. Two of my informants even bluntly asked me if my project was part of the agenda of the West to contradict Islamic law and universal women’s rights.

However, I did hear some other informants enthusiastically express their interest and argue that there was a real need to conduct research on the issues I was addressing. One activist stated that by being a Muslim myself, my research outcome might be different from similar research conducted by others [foreign researchers]. Many women expressed their concern over media reports that they felt judged Islam as being an oppressive religion. As a Muslim, I can understand these views. Having lived in a Western country, I have encountered incidents and heard comments that tend to grossly generalize Islam as a religion that spreads only oppression, hatred and violence.

For my interview, I followed what Frankenberg (1993, 30) has identified as ‘dialogical method’. I shared some information about my own life, particularly about juggling motherhood and studying. The fact that I was an Indonesian Muslim woman who has pursued a PhD in Australia with an Australian Government Scholarship also helped make them interested in me. The younger Acehnese women activists asked me the ‘tricks’ and ‘tips’ to win a scholarship, while the older Acehnese asked if their daughters or sons could also get a scholarship to study in Australia. I also discussed with some of my informants my position within the broader discussion of Islam, gender and the Western perspectives on these two issues. All these things finally made me feel like I had earned the respect of my respondents, and I could see that they started to believe that I am ‘part of them’, or at least not hostile to them. Kirsch (2005, 2164) reveals that it is important for researchers to be able to create a friendly relationship with their interviewees. She argues, ‘the more successful [one is] at forming [a] close relationship with interviewees, the more likely they [are] to reveal personal thoughts or feelings’.

At the beginning, I intended that my research would deal with two local women’s NGOs as case studies. However, when I returned to Aceh for the second time, from December 2007 to March 2008, I decided to only look at MISPI or Mitra Sejati Perempuan Indonesia (True Partner of Indonesian Women). I learned from activists within Aceh’s civil society, both female and male, that MISPI has a leading role in activism within the context of the implementation of Islamic law. I had already met MISPI leaders and activists when I had visited their office, and had developed acquaintances with them. During my second visit I expanded my range of informants to include not just women and male activists, but also the Head of Provincial Government’s Kantor Dinas Syari’at Islam or Office of Islamic Sharia, members of parliament, women judges, and other government officials. With people at MISPI I continued to develop a friendly working relationship, as I spent most of my time at their office. I sometimes shared lunch with them, a tradition that seemed to be common among them. This enabled me to observe conversations on various issues, from how they have to juggle work and domestic chores, how they see family structure in Islam, to dealing with participants at their workshops or seminars, and dealing with donors. During my two fieldwork visits, MISPI conducted various training on issues related to women and Islamic law. This was very helpful, as I could sit in on the events and try to make conversation with the participants. It also enabled me to observe the way NGO training programmes facilitate Acehnese women and men to have their say and conversation in a public forum.

Over a total of six months in Banda Aceh, I lived in three different places, which I later realized equipped me well to understand the everyday lives of the Acehnese in dealing with issue of Islamic law. During my first visit, I stayed at the house of Soraya Devi, the friend of a colleague in Jakarta. Soraya and I quickly became friends ourselves. She is a very open-minded and easy-going person. Born in Medan, Soraya spent most of her teenage years in West Sumatra, as her parents sent her to study at the Diniyah Putri¹⁶ in Padang Panjang. When I arrived Soraya had just been elected as the new head of Women’s Center or Pusat Studi Wanita (PSW)¹⁷ at the IAIN or the State Institution of Islamic Studies, Ar-Raniry in Banda Aceh. This fact in some ways helped me develop my networks among women activists. Her house in Lampriek is only three kilometres away from the governor’s offices and other official buildings.

During my second visit, I choose not to stay at Soraya’s house, because I thought I should experience something different. This time I chose to live with Sukma,¹⁸ an NGO worker from Jakarta who first came to Aceh a week after the tsunami, as a volunteer for Muhammadiyah, a modernist Muslim mass-based organization. She rented a small house with two other Acehnese students from Meulaboh and Aceh Selatan in Blang Krueng, a village close to the Darussalam area.¹⁹ The house that Sukma lived in was a new house built by an international NGO to replace village houses swept away by the tsunami. This area is close to the Krueng Aceh River and was totally destroyed by the tsunami. Sukma told me that the owner of the house refused to live in the new house, because it could not accommodate their big family. Instead, the family leased their new house and rebuilt their old one. This is very common.²⁰ I was told that many of the owners choose to rent their new houses out not only because they are not happy with the new house, but also because they could make money by doing so. I even heard that some chose to stay in the temporary shelters built after the tsunami and rent their houses to generate income.

During the last month of my second visit I moved to the female student dormitory near the campus complex of IAIN Ar-Raniry. I lived with about 20 female students who studied both at IAIN Ar-Raniry and Syiah Kuala University. These students were mostly in their early twenties, originating from different areas in the province. Having constant interaction with them helped me better understand the feelings and perceptions of young people about what was happening in Aceh, including perceptions of the implementation of Islamic law. Most of these students had grown up under severe military conflict. While previous studies on Aceh indicate that due to the history of conflict, the Acehnese resent Jakarta, I found these young Acehnese were, in fact, obsessed with Jakarta, including its pop culture. They perceived Jakarta as a place where they could achieve their dreams and many times I heard how they dreamt of the opportunity to go there. I observed that these young Acehnese have social rituals whereby, after their morning prayer, they turn on their stereo sets, playing Indonesian or Western pop songs. Their fashion styles and clothing were similar to teenagers in other places in Indonesia who match their jilbab with skirts and t-shirts and even tight t-shirts and tight blue jeans. At the same time, these female students were also obsessed with reading Islamic popular fiction, which was booming at that time in Indonesia. They discussed the famous Ayat-ayat Cinta, or Love Verses, a novel written by an Islamist that promotes polygamous marriage.