to the far side of high school go on to university. There are around 3,500 universities across the country, the vast majority of them privately run. As with so much else, gengsi comes into higher education in a very big way. Extravagantly overproduced studio portraits of sons and daughters in their graduation gowns adorn the walls of many Indonesian homes, and just how much prestige these images are worth is directly related to which university awarded the degree. The best of the hundred-odd state universities carry particular kudos (though none get much of an international ranking)—Gajah Mada in Yogyakarta (UGM), The Bandung Institute of Technology (ITB), The University of Indonesia in Jakarta (UI), and Airlangga in Surabaya (Unair). In the private sector, however, it’s hard to avoid the suspicion that the relative prestige often has more to do with the scale of the course fees than the academic standards.
Being a student in Indonesia does, however, earn you a certain level of well-deserved honor. The student community has had a role on the national stage since the early days of modern Indonesia. ITB in Bandung was a hothouse of the independence movement in the 1920s; the vast student protest movement was a decisive factor in the seismic shifts that brought an end to the New Order regime in 1998; and Indonesia’s huge student community continues to give rise to movements for social change.
I lived for a while close to the main UGM campus in Yogyakarta—a city with no fewer than 21 individual universities, plus various further education institutes and colleges. It was a brilliantly bustling neighborhood with a permanent hum of lively conversation. It also had an epic array of cheap and tasty food and trendy cafés. British students might spend most of their extensive leisure time in an alcohol-induced stupor, but their Indonesian counterparts tend to stick to the much more sensible business of eating, coffee-drinking, and conversation.
Women in Indonesia: An Interview with Devi Asmarani of Magdalene.co
It’s always difficult to make sweeping statements about the position of women in Indonesia. On the one hand, Indonesian women work; they study; they run businesses; they are elected to government. At a glance they don’t seem like an oppressed gender. But on the other hand there are powerful undercurrents of religious and social conservatism, weak legal protection and many other challenges. I’m neither Indonesian, nor a woman, so I thought it would be useful to get some insight about these issues from someone who’s both.
Devi Asmarani
Devi Asmarani is the chief editor of Magdalene.co, an online magazine which she set up with fellow journalist Hera Diani in 2013. It’s one of the most interesting and taboo-busting of all Indonesia’s media outlets, with articles—most in English—on many edgy subjects which you’ll rarely see discussed in the mainstream press, including race, sexuality, and above all, women’s issues. I asked Devi to share her thoughts.
Why did you decide to start Magdalene?
We realized there was a gap in the choice of popular reading for women who wanted to read something of substance, a publication that provides a different perspective when it comes to women-related issues. We thought we could offer a certain edge that other Indonesian media didn’t have.
There’s no way you could write and have a healthy and nonjudgmental conversation in the mainstream media about not wanting to have children, or about being gay and an observant Muslim, or about growing up being told your breasts were too big and you need to cover them up only to find out later that it’s OK to have big boobs. There is a very strong sense of self-censorship that we don’t encourage at Magdalene.
How do you see the situation with regards to women’s rights in Indonesia today?
Not as good as it should be. I’m worried about the growing religious conservatism that has had negative implications for women in many parts of Indonesia. There are real concerted efforts to keep women in the domestic domain. There are 365 legislative products of local governments across Indonesia that discriminate against women or have implications on women’s freedom of mobility or expression. Many of these bylaws were issued in towns and districts in Aceh, West Sumatra, West Java, and Sulawesi.
I also think that not enough resources are being channeled to address the basic issues when it comes to women’s rights. There is the insistence to maintain the legal marrying age at 16 (when even the Indonesian law on child protection defines a child as someone below the age of 18). And there is still poor handling of sexual violence, while a weak legal system lets the perpetrators off easily. Female single parents also often still face challenges in obtaining legal or social protection.
I’m usually pretty positive when describing the position of women in Indonesia to other foreigners; do you think I should be more critical?
Yes, you should be. Do Indonesian women have a high level of empowerment and equality? Yes, when compared to some other countries in Asia and the Middle East. But there is a lot of room for improvement.
So what are the biggest things that still need to change when it women’s rights in Indonesia?
For one, the whole government structure must have strong training on gender perspective to mainstream gender equality across all levels of the bureaucracy, law enforcement, and the legislative bodies. Right now, women’s issues, including women’s rights and protection, are seen as the scope of only one ministry: the Ministry of Women’s Empowerment and Child Protection.
The weight of tradition—a woman gets made up for a Javanese wedding in the traditional style.
This is very important in the efforts to reduce violence against women, but its implication will be seen in all areas from education to workplace, from the public domain (including the media) to the domestic domain. It will definitely empower women and allow for more conversation on gender inequality.
Some Westerners seem to think “Islam” and “women’s rights” are incompatible, and worry about the fact that more Indonesian women are adopting Muslim dress codes. But I get the impression that in Indonesia it’s sometimes possible for Muslim women to become more religiously observant, and more empowered at the same time. Do you have any thoughts on this?
You’re quite right on this one. What I love about Indonesian feminists who come from religious backgrounds is that they see their religious credentials as empowering assets to help them bring about change from within. They are informed and they are critical and, in a way, they are so much better at fighting patriarchy (and definitely so much more courageous) in a religiously conservative society than the rest of us, who can only criticize from “the outside”.
Kartini—an iconic role model from Indonesia’s colonial past.
Controversial writer and feminist Ayu Utami.
But one must also be cautious when applying this to the general trend of hijab-wearing women in Indonesia. I see the growing tendency of women wearing hijab as an issue of conformity. We are quite a communal people who generally loathe to be different. I find that some women feel
