Shame and the Value of Women in Contemporary Madura
While much has changed in the institutional structure of the island (Indonesian independence in 1945 and Madura's integration into Indonesia in 1950, bureaucratic expansion of the courts in the towns and police and military posts down to the subdistrict and village level), rural Madurese in many areas still rely on self-help before they submit to the rule of law or turn to local or religious structures for conflict resolution.
In some areas where, until recently, violence was endemic, heads of Koranic schools and other religious leaders have significantly reduced violence through their influence and their ability to act as mediators. Yet, although violent crimes are less prevalent today than they were in colonial times, the Indonesian legal system has had only partial success in curbing carok, notwithstanding the occasional denial by urban elites that carok still exists. A “culture of violent solutions” (Elias 1997) seems to persist, not because the Madurese are inherently violent, but because structural, economic, and social pressures still provide an environment where violence is perceived to be one of the few means available for resolving certain problems.In examining contemporary carok, we may get a more tangible idea of the conditions likely to trigger violence and the dynamics of confrontations. There are several key idioms that are used to explain and justify violent action. The most important of these are shame )t.odus), anger (ghighir or dhuka), fear (tako), and revenge (balessan). Evoked alone or in combinations, they give emotional expression to conflicts that are often material in nature.
One opinion of colonial observers still heard today is that Madurese violence results from disputes over “insignificant” matters. A carok case in 1994, still much discussed in judicial circles, originated out of the cutting of kite strings, and, one year later, escalated to multiple manslaughter.
In this case, the past history of rivalry between the families, and the succession of events between the kite incidents and the killings would of course have to be elucidated before any judgment can be made concerning the motives involved. Rarely is such information inscribed in court records, but we must assume these issues were taken into consideration by the judges. Even kites could have been enough to warrant such a reckless act of vengeance. Kite flying is a competitive sport in Madura (opponents even glue crushed glass to their lines and try to cut each other's strings), thus disputes over kites may be expected to break out from time to time as they do in other Madurese pastimes like bull racing or card playing. Other incidents probably built on the enemy relationship (amosowan) that had developed between the two families regularly trying each other's self-esteem. The word for enemy, moso, also denotes an opponent in a game or sport. As in many other societies placing a high value on personal honor, one cannot afford to appear weak in the eyes of one's enemies (Kiefer 1972). The twenty-year sentence imposed in this case ranks among the longest applied in Madura for carok.
Everyone today who has any familiarity with carok is in agreement that the most common motive is advances toward another man's wife, whether or not adultery occurs. When conflicts over affronts to the honor of female kin (broken engagements, malicious rumors, and the like) are included, then conflicts involving women account for slightly over half of the carok cases examined. Although most townspeople and many educated village youths claim that they would not seek revenge in such situations, most rural men would feel extreme anger (ghighir or dhuka) and public humiliation. For many, even the hint of infidelity or rumors of the same are cause for action.
Protagonists evoke shame (todus') to explain reluctance to seek arbitration by village or religious leaders. Fear of letting on to the enemy that one is actively planning retribution is another reason cited for keeping an affair under wraps.
Variations on the saying popularized in the writings of the Madurese poet K. H. Zawawi Imron, “better white bones than white eyes” (ango 'an pot.da tolang Otdmbhangpot.o mata) serve to justify violence to counter shame. Likewise, many justify carok by what they see as cardinal rules of Islam forbidding violations of Islam itself, another person's property, or another man's wife.Sentimental love, expressed in Madurese as love (tresna), compassion (neser), and sexual desire (cinta) provide reasons enough to defend the honor of one's wife or, for a few, entice another's, since “your wife is where you hang your heart” (“liver” for the Madurese). Among Indonesian societies, Madurese society is noted for placing an especially high value on a woman's sexuality within marriage (Niehof 1985), which for a woman usually occurs soon after menarche. Numerous potions (for which the Madurese are famous), incense, and treatments are used to enhance a woman's attractiveness to her husband. Compassion, desire, and sexuality are also the basic themes in Madurese theatre, danced-singing, and songs that accompany gamelan or oboe (saronen) music (Bouvier 1994). The virtually total male control over the portrayal of Madurese women in performing arts means that the most extreme images of female sexuality, desire, and behavior can be used if necessary to please audiences. To what extent these images can lead to adultery and indirectly to violence is uncertain; in recent years Islamic teachers and their students have had success in reducing the impact of some popular art by suggesting as much. Although sexuality is highly valued, premarital experimentation is strictly forbidden. Madurese see no contradiction here, but do suggest that the immaturity of partners in arranged marriages creates situations where adultery and carok can arise.
Women are fought over to save social face and for sentimental feelings but also because day-to-day existence becomes unmanageable for a man without his partner.
Shame is a “key idiom” (Kiefer 1972:55) that may be evoked in substitution for more material interests. A man who loses his wife for whatever reason becomes a dependent. He will have to move in with family or have female kin come cook his meals and do other gender specific tasks. He loses income from her trading and her labor power, the loss of either often meaning the difference between outright poverty and just getting by.One who has defeated his wife's lover, or suspected lover, will not necessarily divorce her. If he must go to jail, he will need her to take care of his house, fields, and children, as well as bring him supplemental food and tobacco in jail. The question of what actually happened can be left for later, and is usually forgotten. As long as there is a possibility that nothing happened, that becomes the story. Not surprisingly, it is said that a man will have a difficult time finding a new wife if he has gained a reputation for losing one. A few generations back, it is said, a man could not marry in some villages if he had never engaged in carok. Wives or others sometimes goad a reluctant man into taking action to redress a wrong by questioning his masculinity. A few recent cases demonstrate this; perhaps in other cases outside pressure is hidden to avoid implicating close ones.
Other causes that can lead to carok include misunderstandings of various kinds (such as encounters on paths at night where one or both parties fear attack), and disputes over interests that are more obviously material. Disputes over small (but for poor Madurese, significant) amounts of money, or over land boundaries, irrigation water, and animal fodder are examples of valued resources for which many rural Madurese are prepared to fight and risk their lives over. Whatever the costs involved, they have to be weighed against the consequences of inaction.
Unpaid debts can lead to violence because the lender feels shame in calling in a debt, and the borrower feels shame at being unable to pay or in being late in reimbursing. When accounts are settled, careful calculations and exhaustive discussions assure the parties that all debts are paid (lonas), and that the borrower has not forgotten a debt that the lender is too ashamed to remind him of. The fear of course is that this oversight could fuel latent hostility. In unusual instances the use of paid scapegoats and contract killers may come into the picture; in one documented case the issue was to revenge a death blamed on witchcraft by a traditional healer (dhukon).
Rumors occur often enough, though proof of wrongdoing is sometimes sought if this will not alert the suspected offender. One individual who was certain that his child had been killed by a rival through black magic declared that he would trap him one day by
sending someone to seek his services. If his enemy agreed to provide black magic, this would be proof enough to authorize his execution.