30-Islam and The Making of The Nation PDF

Islam
and the making
Islam and the making of the nation

Recently Kartsowiryo and the Darul Islam have become heroic
symbols of the Islamist struggle. The author looks beyond the of the nation
popular dichotomy between rebel and martyr and unveils a
Kartosuwiryo and Political Islam
politician whose legacy has been shaping the role of Islam in
Indonesian politics for over fifty years. She thereby offers an in 20th century Indonesia
alternative view of Soekarno as the leader of the republic and Chiara Formichi
his antagonism with the Islamic state.
In a blend of archival sources, printed material, and oral
accounts, the author follows the career and ideology of
Kartosuwiryo. The chapters delineate the gradual radicaliza-
tion of the Islamic party and of Kartosuwiryo’s own ideals from
the 1920s to the 1950s.
A testament to the relevance of historical research in under-
standing contemporary politics, Islam and the making of the
nation guides the reader through the contingencies of the
past that have led to the transformation of a nationalist leader
into a ‘separatist rebel’ and a ‘martyr’, while at the same time
shaping the public perception of political Islam and strength-
ening the position of the Pancasila in contemporary Indonesia.
Chiara Formichi (1982) has a PhD from School of Oriental and
Chiara Formichi
African Studies, University of London and she is Assistant
Professor of Asian and International Studies at the City
University of Hong Kong. Her interests include the political his-
tory of Indonesia, Islam in Southeast Asia, transnational Islamic
movements and inter-Asian intellectual flows. She is co-editor
of Beyond Shi’ism: Alid piety in Muslim Southeast Asia.
ISBN 978-90-6718-386-4
9 789067 183864
ISLAM AND THE MAKING OF THE NATION
V E R H A N D E L I N G E N
VAN HET KONINKLIJK INSTITUUT
VOOR TAAL-, LAND- EN VOLKENKUNDE
282
chiara formichi
ISLAM AND THE MAKING

OF THE NATION
Kartosuwiryo and political Islam in
twentieth-century Indonesia
KITLV Press
Leiden
2012
Published by:
KITLV Press
Koninklijk Instituut voor Taal-, Land- en Volkenkunde
(Royal Netherlands Institute of Southeast Asian and Caribbean
Studies)
P.O. Box 9515
2300 RA Leiden
The Netherlands
website: www.kitlv.nl
e-mail: [email protected]
KITLV is an institute of the Royal Netherlands Academy of Arts and

Sciences (KNAW)
Cover: samgobin.nl
ISBN 978 90 6718 386 4
© 2012 Koninklijk Instituut voor Taal-, Land- en Volkenkunde
KITLV Press applies the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCom-

mercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License (http://creativecommons.
org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/) to selected books, published in or
after January 2011.
Authors retain ownership of their copyright, but they permit any-

one unrestricted use and distribution within the terms of this
license.
Printed editions manufactured in the Netherlands

To my mother,
and the loving memory of my father
Contents
acknowledgements xi
note on spelling and transliteration xiii
list of abbreviations xv
preface: new perspectives on political islam

in twentieth-century indonesia 1
Scholarly approaches to Islam and politics 3
Kartosuwiryo’s motives 6
About this book 8
Structure of the book 9
A note on the sources 12
1 planting the seeds: java, the nationalist movement and

kartosuwiryo in the 1920s 15
From desa to kota: a nationalist leader in the making 15
Colonial perspectives 15
Surabaya 19
Batavia 25
Back to the desa: building local networks 29
West Java 29
Malangbong 32
Islam, authority and leadership in the Priangan 34
Developing an Islamic nationalist ideology 38
Concluding remarks 46
2 political islam in changing times: sarekat islam and masyumi

under the dutch and japanese occupations (1930-1945) 47
Kartosuwiryo: a rising star? 48
Redefining Partai Sarekat Islam Indonesia’s priorities 50
Pan-Islamism and non-cooperation 50
The Islamic movement and secular nationalism 53
The consequences of non-cooperation 56
| Contents
The Brosoer sikap hidjrah PSII and Daftar oesaha hidjrah 60

Reflecting on the ‘Middle East’ factor 64
Kartosuwiryo’s weakening support and withdrawal from politics 66
New regime, new approach: Dai Nippon and Islamic politics 70
The rise of secular nationalism 75
3 religious resistance and secular politics: laying

the foundations of the indonesian state (1945-1947) 79
Shifting centres of power: Tokyo, Jakarta, London, The Hague 81
Masyumi’s islamization of the ideological struggle 85
Kartosuwiryo’s Haloean politik Islam 89
Troop polarization in West Java 92
Seeking a structure 92
The Linggadjati agreement and the Dutch invasion 96
Consequences for West Java 98
The Limbangan incident 100
West Java on the eve of the Renville agreement 102
Ideological radicalization: calling for holy war 103
Kartosuwiryo’s Perang sabil 103
Kartosuwiryo’s ‘holy war’ 105
Government reception of Masyumi’s and Kartosuwiryo’s
calls for a jihad 106
4 building the islamic state: from ideal to reality

(1947-1949) 109
Groundwork (November 1947-May 1948) 111
Imagining the Islamic state 111
Laying the foundations of the Islamic state 114
Early reactions 117
Initial expansion 120
A step closer to establishing the Islamic state
(May-December 1948) 121
Institutional and territorial consolidation 121
Structuring the Islamic state 123
Reaching out: promoting the common goal 125
Growing apart (December 1948-August 1949) 127
Tentara Islam Indonesia and the Siliwangi in West Java:
an uneasy cohabitation 127
…and an easy divorce 130
viii
Contents |
Opposing reactions: clashing military and political

interests 131
Declaring an Islamic state in ‘occupied’ West Java 134
The proclamation of the Negara Islam Indonesia 135
The NII’s criminal code 136
The NII’s Islamic martial law 137
Initial attempts to reconciliation (August-October 1949) 139
5 the ‘war of the roses’: the islamic state and the pancasila
republic (1949-1962) 145
Shifting approaches: between negotiation
and condemnation (1949-1954) 146
The ‘Commission for the solution to the
Darul Islam problem’ 146
‘Silently resorting to great military force’ 150
The duty to restore peace 152
The unitary state: ‘a modern form of colonialism’ 153
A new round of negotiations 154
Soekiman’s ‘more resolute way’ 155
Soekarno’s Pancasila national state and its opponents 156
‘Final operations’ against the enemies of the state 160
The demise of Masyumi and Darul Islam (1955-1962) 161
Political defeat 161
Darul Islam and the regional rebellions 165
Operation ‘annihilate’ 167
6 from rebellion to martyrdom? 171

Speculations and the rhetoric of betrayal (1948-1950) 172
Darul Islam and Communism 173
The DI: a scheme of ‘(D)utch (I)nfiltration’ 176
Missing ideological reactions to Kartosuwiryo’s NII 178
Building the image of a ‘sterile rebel’ 181
Condemnation: mysticism, violence and defeat 182
Reconciliation: keep your friends close, but your enemies
closer 186
Glorification 190
Kartosuwiryo and contemporary visions of Islamic law
in Indonesia 193
Comparing the codes: crimes and punishments 196
ix
| Contents
Beyond condemnation and glorification 199

conclusion: the development of political islam

and the making of the indonesian state 203
appendix: articles and pamphlets authored
by s.m. kartosuwiryo 207
glossary 213
bibliography 215
index 233
x
Acknowledgements
This book would never have materialized without the support of

many individuals and institutions. Above all are my PhD supervisor
William Gervase Clarence-Smith at the School of Oriental and Afri-
can Studies (SOAS) at the University of London, my post-doctoral
mentor Michael Feener at the Asia Research Institute (ARI), and
the colleagues, family and friends who supported my decision to
embark on a doctoral programme and have encouraged me to fur-
ther expand the thesis into a monograph.
I began this research in 2006 as the foundation for the PhD
dissertation I defended in the History Department of SOAS, in
September 2009. The research was conducted with the invariably
resourceful administrative help of the Faculty of Arts and Humani-
ties at SOAS. It had the financial support of this Faculty, the Univer-
sity of London Central Research Fund, the Royal Historical Society
and the Sir Richard Stapley Educational Trust. During the period of
archival research in The Hague and Leiden, I was affiliated with the
Koninklijk Instituut voor Taal-, Land- en Volkenkunde (KITLV),
which proved to be a most valuable source of inspiration, informal
mentoring and long-lasting friendships. That KITLV Press pub-
lished the final product of this research is an honour to me. I am
indebted to the ever helpful staff at the library, and to Rosemarijn
Hofte who has been a committed editor.
Fieldwork in Indonesia would have been impossible without
Universitas Islam Negeri (UIN) Syarif Hidayatullah in Jakarta, the
Fakultas Ilmu Budaya of the Gadjah Mada University in Yogyakarta
and the staff members of the National Archives in Ampera and the
National Library in Salemba. The Priangan would still be a mysteri-
ous place had it not been for my assistant Dede Syarif, lecturer at
the IAIN Bandung, and my friend Dede Rohati.
Many have untiringly listened to my conference presentations,
giving valuable feedback and insights. Some have gone through
the burden of reading early drafts of the dissertation and chap-
ters of this book. Amongst them, I wish to thank William Gervase
Clarence-Smith, Michael Feener, Bob Elson, Martin van Bruines-
sen, Michael Laffan, Henk Schulte-Nordholt, Gerry van Klinken,
| Acknowledgements
Annelieke Dirks and Juliana Finucane. Regardless, all mistakes

remain mine.
My utmost gratitude rests with my keluarga angkat in Yogyakarta,
who took me in as a daughter and a sister and took care of me
throughout the drafting of the dissertation. The Pujos’ affection
and guidance is what ultimately made it possible for the results of
this research to see the light, whilst keeping me sound in body,
mind and heart. To Claudia, Andi and little Anna goes my affection
for the many Sundays and evenings spent trying to get Kartosu-
wiryo out of my mind. With them I was able to experience a glimpse
of normal life at an otherwise very difficult time.
The lengthy, and at times painful, process of rewriting the dis-
sertation into this book was undertaken during a post-doctoral fel-
lowship at the ‘Religion and Globalization’ research cluster of the
Asia Research Institute, National University of Singapore. I can’t
express enough how important the administrative, intellectual and
human support received at ARI has been to me, and a special dedi-
cation goes to my colleague and dear friend Juliana Finucane.
xii
Note on spelling and transliteration
Addressing the political manifestation of Islam in modern Indo-

nesia carries the problems of transliteration from Arabic and
pre-reform spelling. First, Arabic Islamic terminology has been,
throughout the centuries, adapted to the local languages of the
archipelago; secondly, bahasa Indonesia radically changed its spell-
ing rules in the 1940s. In this book I have followed the conven-
tion of modern Indonesian spelling as it appears in the Kamus Besar
Bahasa Indonesia (2001 edition) for all terms still in use today, unless
quoting directly from a source, in which case the original spelling
has been retained. The ‘old’ Dutch-influenced spelling (where u
is rendered by oe, j by dj, and y by j) has been retained in names of
organizations, institutions, newspapers and periodicals, as well as in
personal names when these are commonly written in the pre-con-
version spelling (Hizboellah, but Masyumi and Nahdatul Ulama)
List of abbreviations
AABRI Arsip Angkatan Bersenjata Republik Indonesia

AAS Archief van de Algemene Secretarie, 1944-1950
ABRI Angkatan Bersenjata Republik Indonesia
AIntel Archief van de Marine en Leger Inlichtingendienst,
Netherlands
Forces Intelligence Service en Centrale Militaire
Inlichtingendienst in Nederlands-Indië
AMK Archief van het Ministerie van Koloniën, 1900-1963
AMK RI Archief van het Ministerie van Koloniën, Rapportage
Indonesië, 1945-1950
Amusa Angkatan Muslim Sedar
ANRI Arsip Nasional Republik Indonesia
APG Archief van de Procureur-Generaal
APRA Angkatan Perang Ratu Adil
AS Archieven Strijdkrachten in Nederlands-Indië
BAKIN Badan Koordinasi Intelijen Negara
BPRI Barisan Pemberontak Rakyat Indonesia
CMI Centrale Militaire Inlichtingendienst
DI-TII Darul Islam/Tentara Islam Indonesia
DPOI Dewan Pertahanan Oemmat Islam
EI2 Encyclopaedia of Islam, 2nd Edition, Brill Online,
2008
FO Foreign Office
GAPI Gaboengan Politik Indonesia
Gerindo Gerakan Rakjat Indonesia
GMr Geheime Mailrapporten
Golkar Partai Golongan Karya
GPII Gerakan Pemoeda Islam Indonesia
ICMI Ikatan Cendekiawan Muslim Indonesia
JI Jemaah Islamiyah
JIB Jong Islamieten Bond
JogjaDoc Jogjakarta Documenten, 1946-1948 (Archive)
| List of abbreviations
K.H. Kiyai Haji

KabPerd Kabinet Perdana Menteri Republik Indonesia Yogya-
karta, 1949-1950 (Archive)
KabPres Kabinet Presiden Republik Indonesia, 1950-1959
(Archive)
KemPert Kementrian Pertahanan Republik Indonesia (Ar-
chive)
KepNeg Kepolisian Negara Republik Indonesia, 1947-1949
(Archive)
KITLV Koninklijk Instituut voor Taal-, Land- en Volken-
kunde
KNIL Koninklijk Nederlands Indisch Leger
KNIP Komite Nasional Indonesia Pusat
KPK-PSII Komite Pertahanan Kebenaran-PSII
KR Kedaulatan Rakyat
KVG Kabinet Verbaal Geheim
Masyumi Majelis Syuro Muslimin Indonesia
MD Ministerie van Defensie
MDPP Markas Dewan Pimpinan Perdjoeangan
MIAI Majelis Islam A’la Indonesia
MMI Majelis Mujahidin Indonesia
MO Majelis Oelama
MOI Majelis Oemmat Islam
MPOI Majelis Pertahanan Oemmat Islam
MPPP Majelis Persatoean Perdjoeangan Priangan or Mar-
kas Pimpinan Perjoeangan Priangan
NA Nationaal Archief
NAUK National Archives of the United Kingdom
NEFIS Netherlands Forces Intelligence Service
NIAS Nederlandsch Indische Artsen School
NICA Netherlands Indies Civil Administration
NII Negara Islam Indonesia
NU Nahdatul Ulama
OSVIA Opleidingsschool voor Inlandsche Ambtenaren
Parindra Partai Indonesia Raja
Partii Partij Politiek Islam Indonesia
Partindo Partai Indonesia
PAS Parti Islam Se-Malaysia
PDI Partai Demokrat Indonesia
PDRI Pemerintah Darurat RI, 1949 (Archive)
xvi
List of abbreviations |
Permesta Perdjuangan Semesta

Persis Persatuan Islam
Perti Persatuan Tarbiah Islamiyah
Pesindo Pemoeda Sosialis Indonesia
Peta Pembela Tanah Air
PII Partai Islam Indonesia
PKI Partai Komunis Indonesia
PMI Pemoeda Moeslimin Indonesia
PNI Partai Nasional Indonesia
PNI Perserikatan Nasional Indonesia
PNI Baru Pendidikan Nasional Indonesia
PNRI Perpustakaan Nasional Republik Indonesia
PPO Politiek-politioneele overzichten van Nederlandsch-
Indië
PPP Partai Persatuan dan Pembangunan
PPPKI Permoefakatan Perhimpoenan-Perhimpoenan Poli-
tiek Kebangsaan Indonesia
PRRI Pemerintah Revolusioner Republik Indonesia
PSI Partai Sarekat Islam (Indonesia)
PUSA Persatuan Ulama Seluruh Aceh
Putera Pusat Tenaga Rakjat
RI Republik Indonesia
RIS Republik Indonesia Serikat
RIS ANRI Kabinet Presiden Republik Indonesia Serikat, 1949-
1950 (Archive)
RTP Resimen Tentara Perdjoeangan
SEAC South East Asia Command
SI Sarekat Islam
SIAP Sarekat Islam Angkatan/Afdeeling Pemuda
SMIAI Soeara MIAI
STOVIA School tot Opleiding van Inlandsche Artsen
TII Tentara Islam Indonesia
TKR Tentara Keamanan Rakyat
TNI Tentara Negara Indonesia
TRI Tentara Republik Indonesia
WO War Office
xvii
Preface
New perspectives on political Islam in twentieth-
century Indonesia
No understanding of jihadism in Indonesia is possible without

understanding Darul Islam and its very extended family1
The idea for this book came from an interest in understanding

recent developments in Indonesian Islamism as well as some
advice given by my doctoral supervisor, who convinced me that
there was little use in analysing the 1970s-1980s jihadist phenome-
non without first looking into its roots in the late colonial period.
Following this wise advice, in this study I assert the crucial impor-
tance of the historical method in understanding the contempo-
rary world.
I do so by treating Islam not as an unchanging theological truth
but rather as an element of broader social and political realities
that has been influenced by geographical and historical factors.
I have made this decision with full awareness of the struggle that
scholars face over how much weight to give to the statement that
Islam represents the union of dīn wa-dāwla, or religion and govern-
ment, and over whether or not to differentiate between Islam as
primarily a set of religious beliefs and Islam as a source of inspi-
ration for politics. The fact that some Muslims consider it a reli-
gious duty to pursue the establishment of a government based on
Qur’anic precepts makes Islam not so different from communism
or secularism, in which followers strive to achieve political victory in
order to implement their vision of a ‘just’ society. This study refers
to Islam in its ideological manifestation as Islamism, an ideology
that has been just as powerful and politically viable in the process of
establishing and consolidating the independent state of Indonesia
1 Sidney Jones, ‘Recycling militants in Indonesia: Darul Islam and the Australian embassy
bombing’, Asia Report (Singapore/Brussels: International Crisis Group, 2005), p. 31.
| Preface
as secular nationalism or communism.2 In 1926 Soekarno identi-

fies Islam, nationalism and Marxism as the three streams of the
Indonesian anti-colonial movement.3 With the benefit of hindsight
I choose the terms secular nationalism and communism instead.
On the one hand I argue that ‘nationalism’ should not be seen
only as prerogative of Soekarno’s group, and on the other hand
left-leaning politicians were more varied in their approaches than
dogmatic ‘Marxism’.
These premises have encouraged me to see Indonesia’s Islamism,
including its radical and jihadist branches, as a homegrown phe-
nomenon. Sekarmaji Marjan Kartosuwiryo (1905-1962), a promi-
nent member of the anti-colonial Sarekat Islam party, formed the
Darul Islam group in West Java in 1947-1948 with the goal of fight-
ing the Dutch and eventually establishing the Islamic State of Indo-
nesia. Although Kartosuwiryo’s motivations lay in domestic politics,
these events cannot be analysed in isolation from contemporary
developments in the wider Muslim world, from Cairo to India, and
his vocabulary and strategies of legitimization found parallels out-
side of Southeast Asia.
The territorial unity of the ummah has been fragmented at least
since Genghis Khan’s conquest of Baghdad in 1258. During the
nineteenth and twentieth centuries, when Muslim lands were ruled
by European powers, theologians theorized about the adaptation of
Islam to modernity, as well as ideas of ‘Islamic nationalism’. In 1924
Mustafa Kemal erased the last vestiges of a transnational Islamic
authority by abolishing the Ottoman Caliphate and creating a secu-
lar Republic of Turkey. But the ideal of a global caliphate has not
disappeared from the Islamist discourse, and it is still the object of
much political debate both in the Middle East and in Indonesia
(see the Hizb ut-Tahrir movement, for example).
Religiously inspired anti-colonial movements repeatedly swung
between pan-Islamism and Islamic nationalism, a fact of history
that emphasizes we cannot look at Indonesian Islamism in isola-
tion from the wider Muslim world. Sarekat Islam archival documen-
tation and Kartosuwiryo’s own writings from the late 1920s-1930s
highlight both this tension and the gradual transformation of pan-
Islamism from a goal of the anti-colonial struggle to a tool with
2 Although ‘Indonesia’ as a political entity was only formed in 1945, Robert E. Elson has amply
demonstrated that ‘the idea of Indonesia’ was already well established in the early 1920s, and it
is in this sense that I use the term. See Elson, The idea of Indonesia: A history (Cambridge: Cam-
bridge University Press, 2008).
3 Sukarno, ‘Nasionalisme, Islamisme dan Marxisme’, in Dibawah bendera revolusi (Jakarta: Pani-
tia Penerbit Dibawah bendera revolusi, [1926] 1960).
2
Preface |
which to achieve national freedom. In the 1950s we witness one

further development, as the goal of the Darul Islam’s armed strug-
gle against the Republic became articulated as the creation of an
Islamic federation encompassing some regions of the archipelago
and other Muslim nations.4
The Darul Islam movement was terminated only in the mid
1960s, by which time it had turned into a rebellion that challenged
the Indonesian Republic and had reached Aceh, South Sulawesi
and South Kalimantan. For reasons that will become apparent
below, I am here primarily concerned with the Darul Islam in West
Java, specifically its ideological foundations as developed by Karto-
suwiryo, and the movement’s eventual transformation into a rebel-
lion. Despite its name and goals, the group’s allegiance to Islam
was not evident to an entire generation of colonial administrators
and Western scholars. Most works produced between 1949 and the
1980s downplayed the role of religion in Darul Islam’s motives for
action, highlighting instead its violent turn in later years and its
opposition to the established political authority.
This failure to take seriously the importance of Islam in the
Darul Islam movement has gone hand-in-hand with a more general
marginalization of Indonesia in discussions of political Islam until
very recently. Comparative analyses of political Islam and Islamic
rebellions, which flourished in the aftermath of the Iranian revolu-
tion of 1979, tended to exclude the Indonesian case. It was only
with the second wave of interest in political Islam in the early 2000s
that Indonesia was brought to centre stage, and in this context the
Bali bombings of 12 October 2002 are often interpreted as an after-
shock of al-Qaeda’s attacks on the World Trade Center in New York.
scholarly approaches to islam and politics
In the past century, everything and its opposite has been written
about Islam and its relation to politics, nationalism, and laws in
Indonesia. The following paragraphs are far from being a complete
review of this literature, as I wish to weave only some threads useful
to understanding the scholarly context in which this work is set.
Takashi Shiraishi’s portrayal of Sarekat Islam and Michael Laffan’s
investigation into the Jawi-Middle East connection in the first quar-
ter of the twentieth century form my starting points. The first work
4 Chiara Formichi, ‘Pan-Islam and religious nationalism: The case of S.M. Kartosuwiryo and
Negara Islam Indonesia’, Indonesia 90 (October 2010): pp. 125-46.
3
| Preface
has highlighted the key role played by this Islamic organization in

the development of the pergerakan; the latter has focused on Islam,
in particular its ability to adapt to changing circumstances while
maintaining an unchangeable and universally recognizable core,
as the driving force behind the initial conceptualization of an idea
of nation. Bob Elson, however, denies this characterization, placing
Islam ‘at the margins’ of the nationalist discourse.
What they all agree on is that by the mid 1920s, Islam had begun
moving slowly towards political inconsequentiality. Locally, Sarekat
Islam was weakened by internal splits and colonial repression. And
internationally, the aspirations of political Islam were quashed by
the failure of post-Ottoman debates on the caliphate and by a surge
of nationalism across the Islamic world.5
Harry Jindrich Benda’s 1958 masterpiece on Islam during the
Japanese occupation of Indonesia aptly points to the short-lived
prominence granted by the Dai Nippon to the Islamic leadership
and the quick turning of the tables that followed in 1945. Recent
works addressing the position of Islam in Indonesian politics and
law constantly return to the crucial day when Soekarno proclaimed
that Indonesian independence was to be founded on the non-con-
fessional Pancasila state philosophy, thereby ignoring the pleas of
Islamic parties that requested the inclusion of the Jakarta Charter,
a preamble generally interpreted as enforcing the obligation for
Muslims to abide by sharia law.
As influential as Soekarno’s decision was, there is more to the
failure of political Islam than this, and occasionally scholars have
addressed some of the other factors involved. Greg Fealy, in his
work on Nahdatul Ulama, has given much attention to this party’s
secession from Masyumi in 1952 and its impact on the overall out-
come of the 1955 elections, as well as on future developments of
Islam during the Guided Democracy and New Order periods. To a
certain extent, and with some confusion, Bernhard Platzdasch has
put back on the table the issues related to the delayed formation
of a constitutional assembly and Masyumi’s decline whilst await-
ing elections (due since 1946), but Nadirsyah Hosen and Masdar
5 Elson, The idea of Indonesia; Michael F. Laffan, Islamic nationhood and colonial Indonesia: The
umma below the winds (London: Routledge, 2003); Nikki R. Keddie, ‘Pan-Islam as proto-nation-
alism’, The Journal of Modern History 41-1 (1969): pp. 17-28; Takashi Shiraishi, An age in motion:
Popular radicalism in Java, 1912-1926 (Ithaca, NY/London: Cornell University Press, 1990). Ked-
die makes the very interesting point that Pan-Islam came to signify that all Muslim peoples
should cooperate with each other in their individual efforts to gain independence from infidel
rule, and, possibly (but not necessarily), unite under a single spiritual and political leadership.
She defined this as ‘proto-nationalism’, a movement built upon a mixture of anti-imperialism
and Islamic ecumenical sentiments. Kartosuwiryo argued the same in the 1920s and early 1930s.
4
Preface |
Hilmy seem to be content with jumping from 1945 to 2000, when

President Megawati Sukarnoputri re-opened the constitutional
debate on the position of Islam in the legislation.6 The struggle for
the inclusion of religion in the constitutional text and the state’s
structure is thus commonly considered by most scholars as ending
at some point between 1945 and 1955, to be reopened only in 2000.
With few exceptions, the ‘new’ post-2002 wave of literature
addressing Islamic activism and militancy in Indonesia treads the
path of looking at external influences to explain domestic events,
an approach with foundations in the colonial depiction of Indone-
sian Islam as a ‘thin veneer’ coating Hindu and Buddhist beliefs.7
Accordingly, local Muslims would be ‘more tolerant’ than their co-
religionists across the globe.8 While rejecting the idea that Indone-
sian Islam is more tolerant or apolitical because of the historical
dynamics that surrounded its spread in the archipelago, my study
is also far from suggesting that there is anything inherently violent
or intolerant about it.
6 Harry Jindrich Benda, The crescent and the rising sun: Indonesian Islam under the Japanese occupa-
tion, 1942-1945 (The Hague: Van Hoeve, 1958); Greg Fealy, ‘Wahab Chasbullah, traditionalism
and the political development of Nahdatul Ulama’, in Greg Barton and Greg Fealy (eds), Nah-
datul Ulama, traditional Islam and modernity in Indonesia (Clayton: Monash Asia Institute, 1996),
pp. 1-41; Bernhard Platzdasch, Islamism in Indonesia: Politics in the emerging democracy (Singapore:
Institute of Southeast Asian Studies, 2009); Nadirsyah Hosen, Shari’a and constitutional reform in
Indonesia (Singapore: Institute of Southeast Asian Studies, 2007); Masdar Hilmy, Islamism and
democracy in Indonesia: Piety and pragmatism (Singapore: Institute of Southeast Asian Studies,
2010). Also, see Chiara Formichi, ‘Review article: Is an Islamic democracy possible? Perspectives
from contemporary Southeast Asia’, Journal of South East Asian Research, 20-1 (2012b): pp. 101-6.
7 Greg Fealy, Martin van Bruinessen and Andree Feillard have advanced ‘historical arguments’
and explained radicalism as a homegrown phenomenon.
8 See for example Anthony H. Johns, ‘Islam in Southeast Asia: Problems of perspective’,
reprinted in A. Ibrahim, S. Siddique, and Y. Hussain (eds), Readings on Islam in Southeast Asia
(Singapore: Institute of Southeast Asian Studies, 1985), pp. 20-4 (originally printed in 1976);
Merle C. Ricklefs, ‘Islamization in Java: Fourteenth to eighteenth centuries’, reprinted in Ibra-
him, Siddique, and Hussain (eds), Readings, pp. 36-43. For the idea of abangan (‘local, nominal’
Muslims) versus santri (‘orthodox’ Muslims), see Clifford Geertz, The religion of Java (Chicago/
London: The University of Chicago Press, 1960). More recent reformulations have been
advanced by Johan H. Meuleman and Azyumardi Azra in numerous publications. Adam Schwarz
and Robert Hefner have both pointed to the non-political aspect of Islam until the 1970s-1980s
global revival; see Adam Schwarz, A nation in waiting: Indonesia’s search for stability (St Leonards,
NSW: Allen & Unwin, 1999) and Robert W. Hefner, Civil Islam: Muslims and democratization in
Indonesia (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2000). The more sensationalist trend, suggest-
ing al-Qaeda’s monopoly on militant Islam in Indonesia, is best represented by Bilveer Singh,
Jemaah Islamiyah in Southeast Asia (Singapore: ISEAS, 2004); Mike Millard, Jihad in paradise: Islam
and politics in Southeast Asia (Armonk, NY: M.E. Sharpe, 2004); Zachary Abuza, Militant Islam in
Southeast Asia: Crucible of terror (Boulder: Lynne Rienner Publishers, 2003); and Rohan Gunara-
tna, Terrorism in the Asia-Pacific: Threat and response (Singapore: Eastern Universities Press, 2003)
and Inside al-Qaeda: Global network of terror (New York: Columbia University Press, 2002).
5
| Preface
kartosuwiryo’s motives
Despite the name and goals of the Darul Islam and despite Karto-
suwiryo’s long career in the Islamic nationalist movement in the
1920s-1940s, scholars have failed to take seriously the role of Islam
– and more specifically, the project of an Islamic Indonesian state
– as the main motivation behind this movement’s activities. This
dismissal, an approach dominant in the 1970s and 1980s, emerged
from three considerations: first, that the Darul Islam emerged and
gained strength because of the frustration of regional military
commanders who were side-lined in the formation of a national
army and because of popular discontent towards agrarian reforms
and political centralization in Jakarta. Second, that Kartosuwiryo
could not have been genuinely committed to the Islamic state ideal
because he had not received religious training, and because he was
a Sufi, thus his religious understanding must have been apolitical
and incompatible with a formalistic view of Islam. And third, that
Islam is intrinsically opposed to the idea of ‘nation-state’, as the
concept of ‘unity of the Islamic brotherhood’ (ittihad al-ukhuwwa
al-Islamiyya) is paramount over the creation of a territorially dis-
crete entity.
This book intends to bring religion back into the analysis of the
Darul Islam, taking Islam not just as a means for rallying popular
support or as a rhetorical exercise for gaining legitimacy, but rather
as the ideological foundation of Kartosuwiryo’s activities.
The first academic book on the Darul Islam, Cornelis Van Dijk’s
Rebellion under the banner of Islam, is representative of the framework
described above.9 This breakthrough study gave Darul Islam the
attention it deserved fifteen years after its disbandment by the army,
reconstructing the roots of Kartosuwiryo’s endeavours while investi-
gating the connections between the West Java Darul Islam and the
regional rebellions that swept through the archipelago in the 1950s
and 1960s. To the reader familiar with Van Dijk’s work, the con-
gruencies and divergences between our two historical reconstruc-
tions will be apparent, and I have chosen not to repeatedly refer
back to Van Dijk’s findings. However, it is evident that dramatically
different approaches have informed our analyses. Two points have
already been mentioned: Van Dijk places great emphasis on agrar-
ian reforms and social struggles, as well as on arguing that Karto-
suwiryo was closer to Sufism than to Islamic modernism and thus
9 Cornelis van Dijk, Rebellion under the banner of Islam: The Darul Islam in Indonesia, KITLV Ver-
handelingen no. 94 (The Hague: Nijhoff, 1981).
6
Preface |
did not fit into the Sarekat Islam environment (this latter point is
addressed in detail in Chapter 1). Because of the time at which the
book was written, and the sources he used (limited to newspaper
articles and official army publications), Van Dijk also ignores the
impact of Kartosuwiryo and Darul Islam’s legacy on Indonesia’s
political Islam.
Furthermore, in addressing Van Dijk’s broader approach to the
Darul Islam, what most greatly differentiates our two works is that
he analyses this movement as a rebellion and, perhaps more impor-
tantly, as a single movement with four or five different embodiments
in those regions that wished to secede from Soekarno’s Republic.
Van Dijk qualifies the limits to, and rationale behind, treating the
Darul Islam as a single entity by stressing the importance of find-
ing ‘common denominators’ and the evidence of contacts between
regional leaders. Yet he also admits that the nature of the conflict
varied from province to province.10 The major implication of Van
Dijk’s claim is thus that joining the Darul Islam-Negara Islam Indo-
nesia project was an afterthought for the leaders of ongoing rebel-
lions in Aceh, Sulawesi and Kalimantan. In this way, Van Dijk is able
to consider Islam not as a ‘motivation’ (motivations were as diverse
as the number of rebellions under study) but, rather, as merely a
‘justification’. The very title of the book suggests that Islam was used
to legitimize the rebellion and to rally popular consensus, and even
in his attempt to reassert Islam as a motivating force, the author
places the Islamic state ideal back in the picture as a ‘rallying point
for resistance’ rather than as a political project.11 In my view, the
root of Van Dijk’s confusion over the role of religion lies in his
addressing the Darul Islam as a rebellion, thus removing its early
development and goals from his analysis. This approach leads him
to turn the question, ‘Why did people join the Darul Islam?’, into
what ‘induced people to rise against the established government?’.12
Rebellions in the other regions of the archipelago had their
roots in ‘the relation between the official Republican Army and the
irregular guerrilla units, the expansion of Central government’s
control […], changes in landownership, and Islam’.13 The Republi-
can government’s increasing attempts to control the provinces and
side-line local guerrilla commanders in favour of ‘regular’ officers
certainly played a key role in fomenting dissent among regional
leaders and inspiring a number of full-fledged separatist rebellions.
10 Van Dijk, Rebellion under the banner of Islam, p. 340.

12 Van Dijk, Rebellion under the banner of Islam, p. 340; emphasis in original.
7
| Preface
Van Dijk aptly describes Central Java’s rebellion as ‘an off-shoot’ of

West Java’s; South Sulawesi’s as the struggle of the ‘disaffected guer-
rillas’; South Kalimantan’s as that of ‘the oppressed’; and Aceh’s
as the ‘rebellion of the Islamic scholars’. In so doing, Van Dijk is
pointing to the rebels’ social revolution against local bearers of
authority and their dedication to the Islamic state project. In this
argument, Aceh stands out as the only province where the primary
motive for rebelling against the Republic in the 1950s was religion.
Edward Aspinall’s Islam and nation is a new milestone in the liter-
ature on Islam and politics in the Indonesian archipelago. Aspinall
describes the Acehnese rebellion as embedded in ethnic dynamics
and separatist aspirations, yet he also recognizes the Islamic roots of
the Darul Islam, the importance of the tensions between regional
and national politics, and the complex ties connecting ethnicity,
religion and historical circumstances.14
Despite the different forces motivating popular mobilizations
in South Kalimantan, South Sulawesi, West Java and Aceh, the aura
of Islam inspired many inhabitants of the Indonesian archipelago
to fight for independence from colonial domination alongside
Sarekat Islam, Masyumi and the Darul Islam in name of religion.
What is needed, though, is a deeper understanding of the appeal
of an Islamic state project during this time. The nuances of this
struggle, both in terms of the changing historical context (from
colony to independence) and its shifting geographical scope (from
nation to province) are crucial in understanding the position of
Islam in Indonesian politics throughout the twentieth century and
in the first decade of the twenty-first century.
about this book
This book is a historical investigation of the interaction between

Islamic groups and government institutions in Indonesia from the
late 1910s to today. This effort is aimed at affirming the religious
foundations of Kartosuwiryo’s Darul Islam and shedding light
on the failure of political Islam in the 1950s, when the first elec-
tions were held in independent Indonesia, and again in the 2000s,
when the country’s democratic institutions were fully restored. The
thread will be the life, career and legacy of Sekarmaji Marjan Kar-
tosuwiryo (1905-1962), Secretary General of Sarekat Islam in the
14 Edward Aspinall, Islam and nation: Separatist rebellion in Aceh, Indonesia (Singapore: NUS
Press, 2009).
8
Preface |
1930s and Imam of the Islamic State of Indonesia (Negara Islam

Indonesia) beginning in 1949.
Kartosuwiryo’s Darul Islam has been the eponym for separat-
ist, regional, anti-Republican rebellions, as decades of state propa-
ganda under General Suharto’s rule stripped the movement of its
religious motives. In more recent times, the same name has been
used to rally Islamist sympathizers who aspire for an Islamic state
around a well-known, albeit almost mythological, forefather, as
militant groups in the pre-Jemaah Islamiyah era hailed from Darul
Islam networks and more often than not carried the same name.
The truth lies somewhere in between: Kartosuwiryo and the
Darul Islam were neither arch-enemies of the Pancasila Republic,
as conveniently argued by the state between the late 1950s and the
1980s, nor were they the ultimate synthesis of Islamic religious piety
and political accomplishment, as claimed by Indonesian Islamists
today.
In this book, Kartosuwiryo is approached as a journalist and
politician who refused to be co-opted by the colonial administra-
tion simply because of having received a Dutch education, and
who instead reacted to social, economic and political injustice by
becoming a prominent figure in the anti-colonial Islamic party and
dedicating his efforts to the struggle for independence in religious
terms.
structure of the book
Kartosuwiryo’s vision of the anti-colonial movement was framed

within the understanding that only through religion – ‘with Allah
and for Allah’ – could the Indonesian people be freed from the
physical and ideological oppression of the West, and that the future
of Indonesia as an independent nation-state could only be ensured
if based on Islam and on sharia law. Islamic groups in Indonesia,
as elsewhere in the Muslim world, were influenced by political and
theological developments in the Middle East, especially Egyptian
modernism. But the movement’s activities were dictated by local cir-
cumstances, as shown by the alternating fortunes of pan-Islamism
and religious nationalism in the 1920s and 1930s, the relation
between religious and secularist parties, and Kartosuwiryo’s chang-
ing approach toward the Dutch in the 1930s and toward Japan in
the 1940s.
The first chapter contextualizes Kartosuwiryo’s intellectual
development in the dynamic landscape of Java during the 1920s,
9
| Preface
following his move from his native village in the eastern part of the
island to Surabaya, Batavia and the rural Priangan in West Java. In
this chapter I argue that Kartosuwiryo’s reaction to socio-economic
injustice and colonial authority in religious terms was the outcome
of a Dutch education, Tjokroaminoto and Haji Agus Salim’s influ-
ence, as well as his involvement with a Sundanese menak.
Chapter 2 is set in the 1930s, and here I address the fragmen-
tation and re-shaping of the anti-colonial movement along well-
defined ideological lines: communism, secular nationalism and
Islamism. Kartosuwiryo has by now smoothly risen to the highest
echelon of Sarekat Islam’s hierarchy, strengthening his support
base in West Java and putting political weight on the promotion
of political Islam and non-cooperation with the Dutch. Amidst
the shrinking of political space led by the new Governor General
Bonifacius Cornelis de Jonge, commitment to the hijrah policy will
cause Sarekat Islam’s isolation and Kartosuwiryo’s expulsion. The
Japanese occupation, also covered in this chapter, marks the return
of Kartosuwiryo on the political stage as well as the rise and fall of
Islamic groups as the dominant force in the political sphere.
The end of War World II, and the subsequent turmoil and power
contest in Java between Japanese, Allied Forces, Dutch and emerg-
ing Indonesian forces, are key to understanding the establishment
of the Indonesian state. Chapters 3 and 4 follow the events that
took place between Soekarno’s proclamation of the Pancasila-based
republic in June 1945 and the transfer of sovereignty in December
1949.
I analyse the emergence of Indonesia as a non-confessional
state. Soekarno’s diplomatic approach towards the Dutch during
the revolution years is thus placed in relation with Masyumi’s role
in Islamizing the struggle by calling for a holy war and making pro-
paganda in favour of an Islamic state of Indonesia. Kartosuwiryo is
still a major actor on the stage of formal politics, but the Dutch inva-
sion of West Java in July 1947 instigates radical changes. As Islamic,
Republican and Dutch troops confront each other and form loose
alliances at the local level, the West Java branch of Masyumi is grad-
ually transformed into a resistance movement aimed at establishing
an Islamic state.
Chapter 4 focuses on Kartosuwiryo’s initiative to re-organize this
regional branch of Masyumi into the Darul Islam group and the
party’s armed wings into the Islamic Army of Indonesia; the expan-
sion of this group across and beyond West Java; and its relation-
ship with Soekarno’s Republic in Yogyakarta. This chapter covers
the events that occurred until the proclamation of an independent
Islamic state in August 1949, stressing how at this stage the Negara
10
Preface |
Islam Indonesia saw itself as a separate state, in no ways competing

or challenging the authority of the Republic of Indonesia. This atti-
tude did not prevent opposing sides from engaging in episodes of
armed confrontation. The chapter also includes an analysis of the
Islamic state’s declaration of independence, its constitution and
criminal code.
The core argument of Chapter 5, supported by a wide range of
archival sources, is that while on the ground republican and Islamic
troops often clashed, the republican government held an ambigu-
ous approach to the NII for almost a decade. It was only in 1953
that Soekarno’s republic labelled the Darul Islam as an ‘enemy of
the state’ and called for the military repression of the movement;
and the Republican Army did not begin organized and systematic
operations until 1958-1959.
The political instability of the federal state (and the unitary state
since August 1950) emerged in the frequent changes of ministe-
rial cabinets, the antagonism between Masyumi and Partai Nasi-
onal Indonesia (PNI, National Party of Indonesia), the continuous
power-struggle between the civilian government and the army, and
the rebellions that dotted the archipelago. This context led to the
lack of a coherent policy towards the Darul Islam-Negara Islam
Indonesia. The Islamic groups, spearheaded by Muhammad Natsir
and Masyumi in general, were committed to a political solution to
‘the Darul Islam problem’, but the secular nationalist faction, fear-
ing for the unity of the country, invoked ‘the duty to restore peace’.
Masyumi’s political capital withered: it lost the elections in 1955
and it was dissolved in 1960. Kartosuwiryo was captured, tried and
executed in 1962, and by 1965 the army had quashed the Darul
Islam from Aceh to Sulawesi.
The last chapter, ‘From rebellion to martyrdom’, reflects on the
changing debates about Kartosuwiryo’s motivations and leadership,
from the 1950s until the 2010s, and on the legacy of Kartosuwiryo.
This second point is also addressed by comparing the different
impact of the NII’s legal texts in the early 1950s and in the 2000s.
I have identified four approaches to Kartosuwiryo’s motivations in
his struggle for an Islamic state of Indonesia, and I suggest that
these portrayals are useful in examining public attitudes towards
political Islam in Indonesia in the past sixty years.
The first phase spans from the 1950s to the 1970s, and reflects
the Republic’s interest in keeping Islam thoroughly separated from
politics. In this context, the Soekarno and Suharto governments
promoted an official image of Kartosuwiryo as a rebel with no ideo-
logical commitment beyond the desire to achieve power for him-
self – this is what I call the creation of a ‘sterile rebel’. The second
11
| Preface
approach is that of reconciliation, developed amidst the New Order

co-optation of Islamic groups and Suharto’s gradual embrace of
Islamic symbols. This new phase begins in the 1990s, with Suhar-
to’s attempt to separate the condemnation of Darul Islam’s violent
means from expressing sympathy for Kartosuwiryo’s desire to estab-
lish an Islamic state. After the fall of the regime in 1998 and the re-
opening of the public and political spheres to Islam, a wide range
of literature has emerged ‘glorifying’ Kartosuwiryo’s struggle and
framing him as a martyr of Islam. It is only since 2010 that non-
politicized authors have made substantial efforts to assess Kartosu-
wiryo’s memory and legacy in contemporary Indonesia, initiating a
fourth trend.
a note on the sources
Memories of Kartosuwiryo and the Darul Islam were suppressed for

decades and altered to fit the needs of the Republican regime. Yet
since the end of the New Order regime, the political climate has
changed, and historical revisionism has affected the literature on
the Darul Islam.
The Darul Islam and Kartosuwiryo himself have been defined as
terrorists, bandits and rebels by Indonesian officers, the press and
Western observers alike. But Kartosuwiryo has also been described
as a hero and a martyr by revisionist historians and veterans. These
representations and descriptions are all part of the story, and what
I aim at is a balanced account and assessment of Kartosuwiryo’s role
in shaping the relationship of Islam and politics in Indonesia over
the past century. I do so making use of official sources as well as
oral recollections and the movement’s own materials. Each of these
sources bears its own biases, which one must contextualize.
Approaching Kartosuwiryo as a politician and thus going beyond
the crystallized dichotomy between rebel and martyr has been pos-
sible only by analysing sources produced by many different actors
on the stage of Indonesian history, both at the time of the events
and in the following decades. The material referred to in this
book draws on colonial government files stored at Het Nationaal
Archief (NA, National Archives of the Netherlands), The Hague;
Dutch colonial newspapers and Darul Islam-Negara Islam Indone-
sia pamphlets found at the Koninklijk Instituut voor Taal-, Land-
en Volkenkunde (KITLV, Royal Netherlands Institute of Southeast
Asian and Caribbean Studies), Leiden; Indonesian newspapers and
magazines stored at the Perpustakaan Nasional Republik Indonesia
12
Preface |
(PNRI, National Library of the Republic of Indonesia), Jakarta; and

official documentation produced by the Indonesian government in
the 1940s found in the Arsip Nasional Republik Indonesia (ANRI,
Indonesian National Archives), Jakarta, and the Indonesian army
in the 1940s-1960s (or, at least, those files that were made available
to me at the Military Archives, Museum ABRI [Angkatan Bersenjata
Republik Indonesia], Ruang Dokumentasi, Jakarta). Data on the
short SEAC interim period were collected at the National Archives
of the United Kingdom (NAUK) in Kew. Both Dutch and Indone-
sian archival files include several documents produced by the Darul
Islam and NII organizations throughout the years, and some of Kar-
tosuwiryo’s pamphlets and ‘announcements’ have been recently
republished as individual publications or appendices to books.
This book is a substantial revision of my doctoral dissertation,
submitted to the History Department of the School of Oriental and
African Studies, University of London, in September 2009. The
related research was conducted between 2006 and 2009 in Indo-
nesia, the Netherlands and the United Kingdom, under the com-
mitted and attentive guidance of my supervisor, Professor William
Gervase Clarence-Smith.
13
1
Planting the seeds

Java, the nationalist movement and Kartosuwiryo
in the 1920s
In 1918 Kartosuwiryo was a dear friend. We worked side by side

with Tjokro[aminoto] for our country. In the ‘20s in Bandung we
lived, ate, and dreamed together. However as I [Soekarno] progressed
on nationalistic principles, he worked solely along Islamic principles.1
from desa to kota: a nationalist leader in the making
Colonial perspectives
The beginning of the twentieth century was marked by deep

changes in the social structure and political configuration of colo-
nial Indonesia. The emergence of a new administrative local elite,
the increase in urbanization, the formation of workers’ unions
and the reforms in the religious sphere all contributed to the rise
of what Takashi Shiraishi has defined as the pergerakan, or ‘move-
ment’, of the indigenous population towards achieving social, cul-
tural, economic and political advancement.
Sekarmaji Marjan Kartosuwiryo was born in 1905 in Cepu, a
small town between East and Central Java. Kartosuwiryo’s family
belonged to what in the early twentieth century was called the ‘low-
priyayi’ class, a status earned through employment in the colonial
administration rather than through aristocratic birth. His father
was an opium trade supervisor. Kartosuwiryo, educated in the
Dutch system from primary school to the tertiary level, is represen-
tative of a new social group in the Indies that emerged from the
government-promoted ‘Ethical Policy’.
During the 1800s, the Dutch colonial administration had
maintained a system of indirect rule, in which ‘Europeans’ and
1 Cindy Adams, Soekarno: An autobiography (Indianapolis: Bobbs-Merrill, 1965), p. 272. The

date mentioned by Soekarno might be wrong.
| Islam and the making of the nation
‘Natives’ were separated. However, after a hundred years of domi-

nation, the central government in The Hague had called for a new
approach, what they called ‘Ethical Policy’. Aimed at uplifting the
indigenous population, the Ethical Policy promoted education,
tackled irrigation challenges and encouraged migration to relieve
over-populated areas of the archipelago. A major outcome of the
expansion of Western-style schooling promoted by the Ethical Pol-
icy was the dissemination of European history, politics, culture and
values among local elites. Dutch advocates of this policy promoted
the pursuit of higher education in the Netherlands (especially in
Amsterdam and Leiden), further exposing this new generation of
indigenous intelligentsia to ideas about self-determination, nation-
alism, workers’ rights and student organizations.2 The anti-colonial
nationalist awakening which in the mid-twentieth century would
eradicate colonial domination had emerged from within this circle
of Western-educated elites. Nonetheless, Western ideals were not
solely responsible for motivating these anti-colonial efforts.
While some sectors of the population in the Netherlands
inveighed against the capitalist system and other Europeans engaged
in anti-imperialist debates, Muslims in Mecca and Cairo discussed the
issue of independence from ‘infidel’ colonial rule and the possibility
of establishing a transnational Islamic state. The debates in Europe
were considered innocuous by colonial governments, who saw these
as a source of intellectual enrichment for indigenous populations.3
Yet at the same time, the pilgrimage to Mecca and the spread of pan-
Islamism were perceived by the authorities as threats, fostering fears
of a pan-Islamic anti-colonial movement. This resulted from the fact
that Java and Sumatra were integral part of trans-oceanic networks of
Islamic authority, education and political activism.
Advances in seafaring greatly increased the numbers of Jawi vis-
iting the holy places of Islam. Jawi, the collective name used in the
Middle East to describe Southeast Asian Muslims, had been under-
taking the journey to the Arabian Peninsula for centuries, and by
the late 1800s Jawi constituted the largest group of pilgrims.4 It was
a long-established tradition that pilgrims would extend their stay in
2 R. van Niel, The emergence of the modern Indonesian elite (The Hague: Van Hoeve, 1960), Chap-
ter 2. This is still the most exhaustive treatment of the Ethical Policy and the formation of an
indigenous intelligentsia in the early twentieth century. Specifically on Ethici and Islam, see Laf-
fan, Islamic nationhood.
3 Van Niel, The emergence, p. 57.
4 R. Michael Feener, ‘New networks and new knowledge: Migrations, communications, and
the refiguration of the Muslim community in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries’, in
Robert Hefner (ed.), The new Cambridge history of Islam, vol. 6 (New York, NY: Cambridge Univer-
sity Press, 2010), p. 63.
16
1 Planting the seeds |
the region to meet other Muslims who came from different corners
of the world, to exchange experiences and opinions, and to share
their knowledge about religious matters. For centuries Mecca had
been the destination par excellence for religious studies when, at the
turn of the twentieth century, Cairo made its appearance on the
map of Islamic learning. At this time, Muhammad ‘Abduh (1849-
1905) and Rashid Rida (1865-1935) developed an innovative dis-
course engaging both religion and modernity, which would soon
be described as ‘Islamic reformism,’ attracting increasing numbers
of students to al-Azhar University.
Though at the end of the 1800s approximately 5,000 Jawi were
based in Mecca,5 Egypt’s appeal was slowly increasing. In 1912 there
were only twelve Jawi in Cairo,6 in 1919 there were roughly fifty or
sixty Indonesians, and by 1925 more than two hundred Southeast
Asian students were living in the Egyptian capital.7
Although it is at the juncture of Western education and Islamic
networks that we find most leaders of the religious nationalist move-
ment in the Indies, including Tjokroaminoto (1882-1934), Muham-
mad Natsir (1908-1993), Ahmad Hassan (1888-1958), Hadji Agoes
Salim (1884-1954), and several others who received both secular
and religious education,8 Kartosuwiryo was a product of the Indies’
Dutch schooling and society. When in the late 1920s he expressed
concerns about the weakness of the Indies’ independence move-
ment, Kartosuwiryo pointed to the negative effects of Dutch educa-
5 Zamakhsyari Dhofier, ‘The intellectualisation of Islamic Studies in Indonesia’, Indonesia

Circle 58 (1992): p. 21.
6 Michael F. Laffan, ‘An Indonesian community in Cairo: Continuity and change in a cosmo-
politan Islamic milieu’, Indonesia 77 (April 2004): p. 7.
7 William R. Roff, ‘Indonesian and Malay students in Cairo in the 1920s’, Indonesia 9 (April
1970): p. 74. On the impact of al-Azhar Islamic reformist movement on Indonesia see Azyu-
mardi Azra, The origins of Islamic reformism in Southeast Asia (Honolulu, HI: University of Hawai‘i
Press, 2004). M.C. Ricklefs’s Polarizing Javanese society: Islamic and other visions (c. 1830-1930) (Sin-
gapore: NUS, 2007), pp. 57-60, offers a valid overview of the dynamics and data related to the
hajj, whilst the formation of a self-conscious religious intelligentsia in Java and Sumatra resulting
from this network has been thoroughly examined in Laffan’s Islamic nationhood.
8 Tjokroaminoto, Muhammad Natsir, Ahmad Hassan and Hadji Agoes Salim are all further
discussed at various stages in this book. It is important to keep in mind that they all had key roles
in shaping Islamic views in Indonesia in the 1920s-1960s, and substantially interacted with Karto-
suwiryo. Tjokroaminoto and Salim were Kartosuwiryo’s teachers within Sarekat Islam, whilst he
came in contact with Natsir and Hassan through Persatuan Islam (Persis) in Bandung. As Persis
gathered most of the religious-oriented nationalist intelligentsia in Bandung, Ahmad Hassan
soon became a close friend and peer of Kartosuwiryo. Natsir, who was already a member of the
Jong Islamieten Bond (JIB) in Sumatra, moved to Bandung and joined the local youth branch
before entering the more active Persis. In more recent years, Natsir has admitted that it had
been Kartosuwiryo who had introduced him to the ‘Negara Islam’ and ‘Darul Islam’ terminol-
ogy in the 1930s (in ‘Mereka yang dikecewakan’, Panji Masyarakat, 24 November 1997, p. 20.)
17
tion on the Indonesian youth: it alienated them from their original

social and cultural contexts.
Kartosuwiryo compared the indigenous elite to ‘a locomotive
pulling the carts from far ahead’, as the leaders had been sepa-
rated from society and were unable to act ‘for the people’ and to
‘mix with them’.9 It is from this perspective that we should consider
Kartosuwiryo’s choice to write in Malay and to give his speeches in
local dialects, even though at times it entailed the employment of
a translator, as in October 1929. But as soon as June 1930 Karto-
suwiryo delivered his first speech in Sundanese. Thirty years later,
Van Niel and Benda would suggest a similar idea, commenting that
these elites acted as an ‘isolated social group’,10 a group of intellec-
tuals removed from indigenous society and only representing their
own interests and aspirations.11
In 1911 Kartosuwiryo entered the Tweede Klasse Inlandsche
School (Second-Class Native School), and after four years there he
was admitted to the Hollandsch-Inlandsche School (Dutch Native
School). This kind of institution had existed since 1914 for the
children of natives employed within the colonial administration.
Classes were taught in both Malay and Dutch, and attendance gave
its pupils access to Dutch secondary schools. After following his
father to Bojonegoro, in 1919 Kartosuwiryo enrolled at the Europ-
eesche Lagere School (European Elementary School). Attending
this school was considered a high privilege, as here European and
high-status native pupils sat in the same classes.12
Thanks to this curriculum, at eighteen Kartosuwiryo succeeded
in being admitted to the Surabaya Medical School, the Nederland-
sch-Indische Artsen School (NIAS), commonly known as Sekolah
Dokter Jawa.13 There is no information available about this period
of Kartosuwiryo’s life. What is known is that he attended the medical
school until 1927, when he was expelled under uncertain circum-
stances, possibly for his involvement with communism. This was not
the only time Kartosuwiryo would be linked to communism, as vari-
ous accusations were made throughout the 1940s-1960s. However,
9 Kartosuwiryo, ‘Politiek djadjahan dan igama IV’, Fadjar Asia, 14 June 1928. All translations
from Indonesian and Dutch languages are my own.
10 Van Niel in Harry Jindrich Benda, ‘Non-Western intelligentsias as political elites’, The Aus-
tralian Journal of Politics and History 6 (1960): p. 96.
11 Benda, ‘Non-Western intelligentsias’: p. 97.
12 For more details on Western-style education in Java and Madura, including statistics, see
Shiraishi, An age in motion, pp. 28-9.
13 Pinardi, Sekarmadji Maridjan Kartosuwirjo (Jakarta: Badan Penerbit Aryaguna, 1964),
pp. 20-1, 35. The data on Kartosuwiryo’s life until 1923 are based on Pinardi’s book, as no other
source is available.
18
these charges seem unfounded and largely aimed at discrediting

his commitment to creating a social and political order that con-
formed with Islamic values.14
Reflecting the complexities of Islamic belief in Java, Kartosu-
wiryo’s religiosity has been depicted in many, often contrasting, ways.
He has been perceived both as a ‘fundamentalist’, because of his com-
mitment to Islamic politics, and as a Sufi, because of his propensity
towards mysticism and popular beliefs. Others have argued that Kar-
tosuwiryo used religion as nothing more than a thin veil masking his
ambition for political power. If on the one hand Islam emerges in the
sources as the core of his political ideology and as his main strategy
to achieve independence and establish a post-colonial state, on the
other hand Kartosuwiryo’s individual religious experience can only
be understood through such contested representations. These repre-
sentations are addressed later in this chapter to further illustrate his
leadership patterns, and then again in the last chapter of this book.
Surabaya
By the early twentieth century, Surabaya had become one of the

major cities in Java – and, by default, of the Indonesian archi-
pelago. Between 1900 and 1914, Surabaya underwent a sudden
increase in industrial employment, with colonial statistics suggest-
ing that by 1915 there were at least ten thousand workers employed
in industrial establishments across the city and its residency. World
War I pushed the colony to change its production patterns, and
the manufacturing of materials that had typically been destined for
the export market – like sugar, tobacco and textiles – was largely
replaced by the metallurgical, machinery and building-materi-
als sectors. All told, these industries employed around twenty to
twenty-five thousand workers in 1920.15
14 This point is further discussed in Chapter 6. Pinardi mentions that whilst attending NIAS,
Kartosuwiryo was boarding with his uncle Marco Kartodikromo, and claims that it was Marco
who initiated Kartosuwiryo to politics, thus leading to his expulsion from NIAS in 1927 (Pinardi,
Sekarmadji Maridjan, p. 21). Marco was an early member of the reformist movement, who soon
shifted from pan-Islamism to communism. He had entered the Semarang Sarekat Islam branch
with Semaoen in 1917 and had steadily gained authority in ‘red’ SI circles to the point that
in 1924 he was nominated chairman of the Surakarta PKI and ‘red’ SI branches. It must be
mentioned, though, that between 1923 and 1927 – the years that Kartosuwiryo spent in Sura-
baya – Marco was first based in Surakarta; then, after the 1926 communist revolts, he was exiled
to the Boven Digoel prison, from which he never returned (Shiraishi, An age in motion, pp. 81,
299). This timeline indicates that Kartosuwiryo could have not possibly been living with Marco.
15 Howard Dick, Surabaya, city of work: A socioeconomic history, 1900-2000, Research in Interna-
tional Studies (Athens, Ohio: Ohio University Press, 2002), pp. 262-70.
19
In Soekarno’s often-quoted words, ‘In 1916 Surabaya was a bus-

tling, noisy port town, much like New York. […] [A] key industrial
area with […] a large influx of mariners and merchantmen who
brought news from all parts of the world. […] The town was seeth-
ing with discontent and revolutionaries.’16 It is partly because of its
overwhelmingly proletarian population and partly because of its
distance from the colonial administration that Surabaya became
host to a lively intellectual (mostly socialist) anti-Dutch movement,
in much the same way that Bandung would in the 1920s-1930s for
the Islamic movement.
In 1912, Oemar Said Tjokroaminoto transformed Surabaya’s
batik traders’ union, the Sarekat Dagang Islam, into a political orga-
nization known as Sarekat Islam (SI, Islamic Union). Together with
Boedi Oetomo, Sarekat Islam constituted the groundings for the
anti-colonial movement. Though Boedi Oetomo is generally con-
sidered the first nationalist organization in the Indies, the group
had originally been an association advancing Javanese cultural val-
ues. Van Niel has described it as the first Indonesian organization
structured along Western lines, but, as it was aimed at representing
the interests of one particular cultural group, this organization had
‘no pretensions about establishing a nation’.17 Boedi Oetomo, liter-
ally meaning ‘beautiful’ or ‘noble’ endeavour, was established in
1908 under the leadership of STOVIA (School tot Opleiding van
Inlandsche Artsen, Training School for Native Doctors) alumnus
and village aristocrat Dr Wahidin Soedirohoesdo in Weltevreden,
which is now known as Menteng, in central Jakarta. Aimed at the
advancement of both Javanese aristocrats and the Javanese people
(bangsa Jawa) in the fields of education and culture, Boedi Oeto-
mo’s only nationalist aspiration was at the ethnic level.18
The desire to see the natives advance to the same level as the
Europeans was to take different forms. For the colonial establish-
ment, this advancement was to be achieved through education and
integration into the administrative system. For some local aristo-
crats, progress involved the promotion of ethnic culture and val-
ues. For others, especially those who in the long run would become
advocates of the nationalist movement, mobilization was aimed at
social and political change. Raden Mas Tirto Adhi Soerjo (1880-
1918), who founded the Sarekat Priyayi (Priyayi Union) in 1906,
soon joined Boedi Oetomo, hoping that this group would be a
16 Adams, Soekarno, p. 34.

17 Van Niel, The emergence, p. 56.
18 M. Balfas, Dr Tjipto Mangoekoesoemo, demokrat sedjati, Seri Tjermin Kehidupan (Jakarta:
Penerbit Djambatan, 1952), pp. 36, 46.
20
better vehicle for inducing radical change in the Indies. Tjipto

Mangoenkoesoemo was of a similar mind. However, their efforts to
transform Boedi Oetomo into a socialist party dedicated to improv-
ing the masses failed, as they found the Boedi Oetomo environ-
ment too entrenched in Javanese aristocratic values. Tirto and
Tjipto then took separate paths in their common efforts. Tirto, bet-
ting on the dynamism of the Muslim trading class, established the
Sarekat Dagang Islam (Islamic Trading Union) together with Hadji
Samanhoedi. Tjipto joined the socialist Indische Partij (Indies’
Party) in 1911.19
The Sarekat Dagang Islam was the first embodiment of what
would later be known as Sarekat Islam. It originated as an organiza-
tion whose main stated aim was the economic protection of Muslim
batik traders against the powerful Chinese textile industry.20 In a
statute submitted to the Dutch authorities, Tirto portrayed Sarekat
Islam as ‘an association of Muslims working for progress’, in which
Islam, as Shiraishi has argued, was the signifier of nativeness.21 As
Laffan has shown, this group soon developed as the political orga-
nization that ‘formed the true basis for the nationalist movement’.22
In its early years, Sarekat Islam’s strength lay in Tjokroamino-
to’s ability to create a bridge between socialism and Islam. From
a mixed santri-priyai background, Tjokroaminoto succeeded in
reaching farmers, coolies and intellectuals alike, addressing issues
of social and economic inequality as well as pointing to Islam as
the foundation of society. Tjokroaminoto assumed leadership in
1912 and retained it until his death in 1934. He had attended the
Opleidingsschool voor Inlandsche Ambtenaren (OSVIA, Train-
ing School for Native Officials) in Magelang and the Burgerlijke
Avondschool (Civil Evening School) in Surabaya, where he became
proficient in the English language and at the same time received
a religious education. As long as Tjokroaminoto led the group,
Sarekat Islam was primarily concerned with advancing the socio-
economic conditions of the widely exploited Javanese peasantry.
19 Bob Hering, Soekarno: Founding father of Indonesia, KITLV Verhandelingen n.192 (Leiden:
KITLV Uitgeverij, 2002), pp. 32-4; Van Niel, The emergence, pp. 58-9.
20 For different reconstructions of the origins of Sarekat Islam, see Safrizal Rambe, Sarekat
Islam: Pelopor nasionalisme Indonesia, 1905-1942 (Jakarta: Yayasan Kebangkitan Insan Cendekia,
2008), pp. 2-3. Benda, The crescent and the rising sun, p. 42; Ruth Thomas McVey, The rise of Indone-
sian communism, (Singapore: 1st Equinox ed., 2006), p. 8; Van Niel, The emergence, p. 90; Natalie
Mobini-Kesheh, The Hadhrami awakening: Community and identity in the Netherlands East Indies,
1900-1942 (Ithaca: Cornell University Southeast Asia Program, 1999); Shiraishi, An age in motion,
pp. 41-3; Laffan, Islamic nationhood, p. 167.
21 Shiraishi, An age in motion, p. 43.
22 Laffan, Islamic nationhood, pp. 166-7.
21
Despite the fact that Tjokroaminoto’s socialism had its philosophi-

cal foundations in Islam, thereby rejecting Marx’s theory of his-
torical materialism, he was still able to ensure close cooperation
between Sarekat Islam and the Indische Sociaal-Democratische
Vereeniging (Indies’ Social-Democratic Association). Charisma
and political strategy allowed Tjokroaminoto to attract those elite
factions concerned with the economic and social conditions of the
Indies, as well as the disaffected masses. Shiraishi describes the fas-
cination and excitement surrounding the peasants’ experience at
the rallies, and interestingly reverses the traditional understanding
of Tjokroaminoto as the Just King: people did not ‘flock to the
SI out of their “millenarian” and “messianic expectations”’, but
‘rather the unusual and strange experiences people had […] gen-
erated the language of the Ratu Adil’.23
Tjokroaminoto was soon aided by Hadji Agoes Salim, also a
Dutch-educated intellectual, whose religious understanding had
been influenced by his cousin Ahmad Khatib, a Shafi’i imam in
Mecca. Hadji Agoes Salim had joined Sarekat Islam in 1915 as an
informant for the colonial secret police, but he soon converted
to the cause, becoming the party’s religious soul and second only
to Tjokroaminoto in the party structure. Salim’s influence on the
young recruit Kartosuwiryo is undeniable, and it emerges with
particular clarity when considering Salim’s dedication to the pan-
Islamic ideology. Working at the Dutch consulate in Jeddah had
shaped both Salim’s religious piety and his way of interacting with
the colonial authorities. On the one hand, he should be seen as
the figure who most significantly contributed to the Islamization
of Sarekat Islam’s policies, and on the other hand, as the one who
favoured cooperation with the colonial authorities.
In the late 1910s, as the Indies’ manufacturing industry was
booming, increasing the number of industrial workers as well as
accelerating urbanization, Sarekat Islam rapidly expanded across
and outside of Java. Pointing to the violence sparked in Central
Sulawesi and West Java in the name of Sarekat Islam’s struggle for
economic justice, and to the colonial authorities’ reaction, Shirai-
shi sees 1919 as a turning point for Tjokroaminoto’s decline and
eventual failure to reconcile the communist and religious souls
of Sarekat Islam.24 During Tjokroaminoto’s jail term, Salim took
control of the 1919 Congress, and capitalizing on his familiarity
with both the colonial and religious elites, he pushed SI towards
23 Amelz, H.O.S. Tjokroaminoto: Hidup dan perdjuangannja (Jakarta: Bulan Bintang, 1952),
vol. 1, pp. 48-111; Shiraishi, An age in motion, pp. 66-7.
24 Shiraishi, An age in motion, pp. 113-6.
22
Islam and away from communism. The 1923 Madiun Congress pro-
claimed ‘party discipline’ against members of the Partai Komunis
Indonesia (PKI, Communist Party) and changed the organization’s
name to Partai Sarekat Islam-Hindia Timoer (Islamic Union Party-
East Indies), marking the beginning of its existence as an explicitly
Islamic party.
In the early 1920s, the party was increasingly Islamized. Tjok-
roaminoto’s attempts to maintain a focus on the socio-economic
empowerment of the indigenous population were overpowered by
the impact of Mustafa Kemal’s decision to abolish the Caliphate in
March 1924. The activities of the Khilafat movement in India had
stirred admiration across the Muslim world in general, and in Java
in particular, such that in 1925 the al-Islam Congress in Yogyakarta
decided that an envoy would be sent to India to establish relations
with the Central Khilafat Committee. In 1924, Sarekat Islam party
leaders had already established a Central Comite Chilafat in Sura-
baya, and later that year the same city hosted the al-Islam Congress
to discuss how to approach the Caliphate question. Tjokroami-
noto attended the Meccan Moe’tamar ‘Alam Islami (International
Islamic Congress) in 1926, and Hadji Agoes Salim was sent as the
Indies’ delegate in 1927.25 The al-Islam movement would re-emerge
in 1930, but with a different aim (see Chapter 2).
As the Middle East was hit by the internal dismantling of the
caliphal institution and the external fragmentation of the Otto-
man Empire, pan-Islamism was also losing support in favour of
pan-Arabism and nationalism. Yet it is at this historical juncture
that Muslims ‘at the periphery’ of the Islamic world began to play
a crucial role in the revival of the caliphate ideal.26 The fact that
the Caliphate question began to gain support in the Dutch Indies
only in the 1920s, when the rest of the Islamic world was shifting
from pan-Islamism to nationalism, should be analysed in conjunc-
tion with the state of political activism in the archipelago. Hadji
Agoes Salim first asserted the centrality of religion as the founding
principle of Sarekat Islam with the establishment of the al-Islam
Congress in 1923. On this same year Salim had reoriented Sarekat
Islam’s approach to the colonial administration by pushing for the
approval of the non-cooperation hijrah policy.27
25 Amelz, H.O.S. Tjokroaminoto, pp. 163-51, 174. For an extensive investigation of the Indies’
Muslims’ reaction to the abrogation of the caliphate, see Martin van Bruinessen, ‘Muslims of the
Dutch East Indies and the Caliphate question’, Studia Islamika 2-3 (1995): pp. 115-40.
26 For more on the Khilafat movement, see A.C. Niemeijer, The Khilafat movement in India,
1919–1924 (The Hague: Nijhoff, 1972); and S. Oliver-Dee, The Caliphate question: The British
government and Islamic governance (Lanham, MD: Lexington Books, 2009).
27 McVey, The rise, pp. 76-104; Rambe, Sarekat Islam, pp. 90-145.
23
Before the 1920s the Indies’ anti-colonial movement had not

yet been ideologically defined. I suggest that the Indonesian
nationalist movement emerged as a result of a transformation that
took place in the 1910s. Accepting the fact that the first organiza-
tions to advocate independence from colonial rule were Boedi
Oetomo and Sarekat Dagang Islam, I argue that the nationalist
movement emerged from fractures within, and reorganizations
of, these two groups, a reshaping that occurred along ideological
lines.
This process of moving away from a general idea of ‘indigenous
advancement’ towards the formation of well-defined Islamic, com-
munist and nationalist parties, with agendas molded according to
domestic needs and international models, passed through a tran-
sitional period in which each organization had multiple political
souls. Sarekat Islam had split into a socialist and an Islamic wing in
the mid 1920s. In following years, the caliphate issue, the Islamic
state ideal and the pan-Islamic project would quickly become
important elements in rallying support among the Indies Muslims,
and in further widening the chasm between the various groups.
Appeals to a transnational network of alliances based on Islam
strengthened Sarekat Islam’s position against Soekarno’s nation-
alism and Semaoen’s socialism. The case for independence from
colonial rule as part of a transnational religious movement was
made even stronger by the argument that striving for the unity of
the ummah was a religious duty.
The abrogation of the Caliphate, together with the Saudi con-
quest of Mecca in the Arabian Peninsula and the already heated
Palestinian question, dominated political debates in Indonesia as
in other Muslim countries. These became powerful elements to
rally Muslims’ sympathies and channel them into the anti-colonial
struggle, but the goals of the religious groups were to gradually
shift away from the creation of a transnational caliphate and instead
towards the establishment of an independent nation-state.
Scholars of colonial Indonesia have argued that by the mid
1920s, political Islam in the Dutch East Indies was in steep decline,
with communism and secular nationalism taking its place among
the indigenous population. I contend, however, that although
Sarekat Islam had been seriously weakened by its internal divi-
sion, and by the soaring enthusiasm for Soekarno’s Perserikatan
Nasional Indonesia, the Islamic party did not decline but, instead,
entered a new phase. The party’s focus was no longer on relieving
the indigenous population from colonial mistreatments, but on lay-
ing out the platform for an independent state of Indonesia based
on Islamic precepts.
24
Amidst these events Kartosuwiryo moved to Surabaya in 1923.

It is unclear how he entered the Sarekat Islam circle, but it is likely
that during his days at the medical school, his interest in politics
brought him to the steps of Tjokroaminoto’s house. In the 1910s
and early 1920s Tjokroaminoto’s residence also functioned as
Sarekat Islam’s office and was a known hub for socio-political dis-
cussions. Soekarno would recall his boarding days at Tjokroami-
noto’s in 1915-16 as crucial to his political formation.28 In 1962,
Kartosuwiryo reportedly stated that it had been during a trip with
Tjokroaminoto to Cimahi, north of Bandung, West Java, that he
had first met Soekarno in 1927.29 This meeting could be connected
to Kartosuwiryo’s presence at the Pekalongan Congress discussed
below, a congress in which both Tjokroaminoto and Soekarno par-
ticipated. The congress would also explain Kartosuwiryo’s presence
in Batavia in early 1928, soon after Tjokroaminoto’s moving there
and establishing Fadjar Asia’s office in Weltevreden in November
1927.30
Batavia
What Kartosuwiryo did in the aftermath of his expulsion from med-

ical school in 1927 has not been recorded. However, by March 1928
he was in Batavia, dedicating much of his time to Sarekat Islam
activities. It is possible that he served as General Secretary at the
12th PSI Congress held in Pekalongan between 28 September and
2 October 1927, as a Dutch account reports a ‘Kartodiwirjo’ fulfill-
ing this position, a name that does not appear before or after this
congress and could have been a misspelling of ‘Kartosuwirjo’ by the
Dutch administrator.31
This congress highlighted Tjokroaminoto and Salim’s dif-
ferences over what to prioritize within the wider context of the
anti-colonial struggle. Salim’s speech focused on Islam, Islamism
and nationalism, as well as on the party’s organization and its
connection with the international anti-imperialism league, while
Tjokroaminoto highlighted the relevance of the unfair economic
conditions of the Indonesian people in the fight for political free-
28 Amelz, H.O.S. Tjokroaminoto, p. 55.

29 Kartosuwiryo’s confession letter to Kodam Siliwangi VI in Pinardi, Sekarmadji Maridjan, p. 34.
30 Amelz, H.O.S. Tjokroaminoto, pp. 172-7.
31 ‘Programma van het XIVe Congres der Partij Sarekat Islam Oost-Indië to Pekalongan vanaf
28 September tot 2 October 1927’ [1927], Archief van het Ministerie van Koloniën, 1900-1963
[hereafter AMK]: Geheime Mailrapporten [hereafter GMr], no. 52, Het Nationaal Archief
[hereafter NA], The Hague.
25
dom, stating that ‘the intellectuals should not be oriented towards

capitalism’.32 It seems that Kartosuwiryo did not participate in two
events on the Sarekat Islam agenda in January 1928. These were
the Cianjur open meeting and the al-Islam Congress. While the for-
mer was a local event,33 the latter involved 150 delegates represent-
ing more than forty branches across Java. As Salim had requested
at the 1927 congress in Pekalongan,34 Salim and Tjokroaminoto
established the Majelis Oelama (Assembly of Islamic Scholars) as
an institution representing the ulil amri as a form of Islamic consul-
tative and judicial authority.35
Documentary evidence marks Kartosuwiryo’s first unequivocal
participation in the party’s activities in March 1928, when his name
appears in Fadjar Asia as a donor to the ‘Indonesian Students’
Mutual-Help Committee’, and then again on 2 April when his first
article was published. From then on, he would be a regular con-
tributor to the party’s daily newspaper.36 In his early articles, Karto-
suwiryo reported news of socio-political relevance and wrote about
religious-political issues, but his focus gradually shifted towards
Islam, Islamic nationalism and Islamic law.
Kartosuwiryo’s interest in Islam as a political instrument soon
attracted the Dutch authorities’ attention. They started reporting
news about this young journalist’s ‘religious fanaticism’ and com-
menting on his articles in the pages of their press overviews.37 This
attention began in August 1928 and continued for several months,
with the authors of the Overzicht van de Inlandsche (Maleisisch-Chinee-
sche en Arabische) Pers even suggesting that publishing Kartosu-
wiryo’s opinions and giving him too much space was compromising
Sarekat Islam Party’s leadership.38 Kartosuwiryo was described as a
young anti-European journalist who was fanatical in his religious
views and behaviour.39
32 ‘Het congres der Partij Sarekat Islam te Pekalongan van 28 September – 2 October 1927’
[1927], pp. 23, 26-7, AMK GMr, no. 53, NA.
33 ‘Verslag der openbare P.S.I. Vergadering te Tjandjoer op 22 Januari 1928’ [1928], AMK
GMr, no. 57, NA.
34 Amelz, H.O.S. Tjokroaminoto, p. 175.
35 ‘Islam Congres’ [1928], AMK GMr, no. 57, NA.
36 Fadjar Asia is stored at the Perpustakaan Nasional Republik Indonesia (PNRI) in Jakarta,
where continuous issues are available from 8 November 1927 until 31 July 1930 with a gap
between 15 November 1929 and 1 January 1930. For a list of Kartosuwiryo’s contributions, see
the Appendix.
37 See the General Overview of the Indigenous (Malay-Chinese and Arab) Press, Algemeen
Overzicht van de Inlandsche (Maleisisch-Chineesche en Arabische) Pers, and the weekly Overview of
the Indigenous and Malay-Chinese Press, Overzicht van der Inlandsche en Maleisisch-Chineesche Pers.
38 Algemeen overzicht, August 1928.
39 Algemeen overzicht, August 1928 and October 1929.
26
Kartosuwiryo made his first official appearance at the second

Youth Congress, held in Weltevreden on 27-28 October 1928. On
this occasion, representatives from several youth organizations and
newspapers – including Jong Java, Jong Batak Bond, Jong Islami-
eten Bond, and the Chinese daily Keng Po – issued a pledge, the
Sumpah Pemuda, affirming their commitment to the establishment
of an Indonesian nation in which the unity of the homeland would
prevail over different ethnic and linguistic communities. The
Sumpah Pemuda was a milestone on the road towards the forma-
tion of a politically conscious youth and future political elite who
were attempting to articulate an anti-colonial discourse in terms
broader than ethnicity or religion. The conclusion of the pledge,
signed by Kartosuwiryo and others, stated: ‘We, young men and
women of Indonesia, accept to belong to one motherland, Indo-
nesia; we, young men and women of Indonesia, accept to belong
to one nation, Indonesia; we, young men and women of Indonesia,
hold high one language, Indonesian.’40
Kartosuwiryo, however, could not refrain from pointing to Islam
as a necessary element of the anti-colonial discourse in Indonesia.
He later reported on Fadjar Asia that
this writer, as a child of Indonesia, and especially as a child of Indo-

nesia who embraces Islam, meaning the religion of the Indonesian
nation (kebangsaan Indonesia), [reminds you] that because this is
the religion embraced by a large part of the Indonesian people
in general, and also the religion that functions as a bond between
several groups and peoples that have settled in our homeland Indo-
nesia, it is because of that that it is appropriate and not far from
the truth to say that if in this meeting [the Youth Congress] we
want to talk, our opinions should be exclusively based on Islam and
Islamization.
His speech was interrupted soon after he started it, as the chair
of the congress argued that, ‘Certainly unity does not demand
religion, especially not Islam’. To this statement, Kartosuwiryo
answered: ‘Even foreigners see the truth of this, that Islam is an
important and big issue – if not the biggest – in our motherland,
40 Suswadi, and Endang Pristiwaningsih (eds), Sumpah Pemuda: Latar sejarah dan pengaruh-
nya bagi pergerakan nasional (Jakarta: Kementerian Kebudayaan dan Pariwisata Indonesia,
2003), pp. 87, 100. For a discussion of the significance of this pledge and the congress in the
pre- and post-independence periods, see Keith Foulcher, ‘Sumpah Pemuda: The making and
meaning of a symbol on Indonesian nationhood’, Asian Studies Review 24-3 (2000): pp. 377-
410.
27
especially in relation to colonization politics […] Why, then, do

those youth still not see it?’41
Two months later, Kartosuwiryo represented the party at the
Jong Islamieten Bond Congress in Bandung (22-26 December
1928).42 The Islamic Youth League had been established in 1925
as an off-shoot of Jong Java, with the explicit mission to ‘Islamize
educated people’ and breed future cadres for the religious nation-
alist movement.43 According to a Dutch press report, on this occa-
sion Kartosuwiryo called for ‘peace through religion’.44 However,
his speech seemed far from peaceful, as the only available excerpt
quotes him accusing the colonial government of implementing
policies of Christianization with the specific intent of weakening
the Islamic political movement.45
Throughout 1929, Kartosuwiryo was extremely active in Fad-
jar Asia as well as in the Jakarta branch of PSI. On 1 March, the
party announced the creation, under Kartosuwiryo’s initiative, of a
Komite Zakat-Fitrah,46 a committee for the collection of Islamic tax,
which can be considered a prototype for the Japanese-era bait al-
mal (Islamic treasury). More than a decade later, during the occu-
pation, Kartosuwiryo would create this treasury within the structure
of the Majelis Islam A’la Indonesia (MIAI, Islamic Superior Council
of Indonesia).47 As Agoes Salim organized his journey to Geneva to
attend the International Labour Conference, which was hosted by
the League of Nations in July 1929, the editorial team of Fadjar Asia
was restructured, and on the eve of Salim’s departure aboard the
Prins der Nederlanden, Kartosuwiryo became editor.48
41 Kartosuwiryo, ‘Lahir dan bathin’, Fadjar Asia, 29 October 1928. On the second day of the
congress, he was also reported as replying to Anta Permana’s speech on the need to abolish
polygamy so hastily that the congress chairman felt it necessary to ask participants not to dis-
cuss issues linked to religion; see Kholid Santosa, Jejak-jejak sang pejuang pemberontak: Pemikiran,
gerakan & ekspresi politik S.M. Kartosuwirjo dan Daud Beureueh, 2nd ed. (Bandung: Sega Arsy,
2006), p. 64.
42 ‘Adviseur voor Inlandsche Zaken Verslag van het 4e congres den JIB gehouden te Band-
ung’ [1929], AMK GMr, no. 384x/29, in Abdurrahman, ‘Jong Islamieten Bond, 1925-1942 (seja-
rah, pemikiran, dan gerakan)’ (thesis, IAIN Sunan Kalijaga, 1999, p. 139). I have not seen the
original document.
43 For more details on JIB, see Deliar Noer, The modernist Muslim movement in Indonesia, 1900-
1942 (Singapore: Oxford University Press, 1973) and Yudi Latif, Indonesian Muslim intelligentsia
and power (Singapore: Institute of Southeast Asian Studies, 2008), pp. 203-11 (quote on p. 204).
44 ‘Vrede door religie’, in Algemeen overzicht, 22 December 1928.
45 Abdurrahman, ‘Jong Islamieten Bond’, pp. 139-40.
46 Kartosuwiryo, ‘Seroean oemoem komite zakat fitrah’, Fadjar Asia, 1 March 1929.
47 See Chapter 2.
48 Algemeen overzicht, July 1929 and Fadjar Asia, 30 April 1929. Salim’s journey was announced
by Tjokroaminoto and Kartosuwiryo, ‘Ma’loemat Loedjnah Tanfidhijah P.S.I. Indonesia’, Fadjar
Asia, 20 April 1929 and Kartosuwiryo, ‘Selamat djalan’, Fadjar Asia, 2 May 1929.
28
From then on, Kartosuwiryo’s contributions appeared in the

newspaper almost every day, providing a clear picture of his activi-
ties and the development and reception of his ideas in 1929 and
1930. As Kartosuwiryo was gaining attention on the political scene,
his statements became part of journalistic debates, as Darmokondo,
Bintang Timoer and Oetoesan Hindia often reacted to his writings.49
back to the desa: building local networks
West Java
In mid August 1929, Kartosuwiryo was in Garut at the West Java Pro-
vincial Congress acting as Secretary of the party’s executive com-
mittee (a position he had held since March).50 On this occasion
Tjokroaminoto changed the party’s name to Partai Sarekat Islam
Indonesia (PSII, Party of the Islamic Association of Indonesia) to
further stress the party’s nationalist stance and its vision of a future
Indonesian nation.
The August provincial congress, which marked Kartosuwiryo’s
entry to the West Java branch of the party, was attended by 800-1,200
representatives of Islamic as well as secular organizations, including
some who in later years would become prominent figures in local
Islamic politics. In the absence of the West Java chairman, Abdoel-
moetallib Sangadji, the congress was opened by Tjokroaminoto and
Kadar, who was president of the Jakarta branch, and was chaired by
Aroedji Kartawinata, the director of the PSII school in Garut who
in the 1940s would become a military commander in the Tasikma-
laya area. Among those who participated were Kiyai Ardiwisastra
(president of PSII-Malangbong), Kiyai Joesoef Taoeziri (chairman
of the Garut branch of the Majelis Oemmat Islam [MOI, Council of
the Islamic Ummah]), Kiyai Hadji Moestafa Kamil (national MOI
leader) and the PSII-Garut women’s organization, along with vari-
49 It is on one of such occasions that Kartosuwiryo’s disgruntled comments on Dutch attempts
to establish a National Bank of Indonesia (Bank Kebangsaan Indonesia) were picked up and
used as an example of his unwillingness to cooperate, and his ‘fixation’ with linking national-
ism to Islam. Bintang Timoer excerpt republished in Kartosuwiryo’s ‘Lagi tentang persatoean I’,
Fadjar Asia, 12 March 1929; Kartosuwiryo, ‘Naik tiang pengantungan’, Fadjar Asia, 25 July 1929;
‘Oentoek collega S.M.K. I’, Darmokondo, 9 July 1929 and ‘Oentoek collega S.M.K. II’, Darmo-
kondo, 10 July 1929. The content of the articles and the nature of the dispute are analysed in the
last section of this chapter.
50 ‘Klachten gehuit [sic.] tydens de provinciale congressen van de PSII’ [1929], AMK GMr,
no. 70, NA. The congress was held on 16-19 August 1929.
29
ous members of Persis (Bandung), the Majelis Ahli’s-Soennah and

Persatoean Oelama (Madjalengka). In addition to these Islamic
nationalists, also in attendance were Soekarno and Gatot Mangko-
epradja from the Bandung branch of PNI, Mirza Wali Ahmad Bey
of the Yogyakarta-based Lahori Ahmadiyah, and the Perserikatan
Chauffeurs (Drivers’ Union).
It is interesting to note that despite the conflict between Sarekat
Islam and PNI leadership on the establishment of PPPKI (discussed
below), Soekarno participated at this congress. The most notable
absentee was, in fact, Muhammadiyah.51 In 1925 Tjokroaminoto
had begun translating into Malay the English version and commen-
tary of the Qur’an made by the Ahmadi scholar Maulvi Muhammad
Ali. The project – and the Ahmadi group of Yogyakarta in general
– had been initially supported by Muhammadiyah’s Kiyai Haji Mas
Mansur. However, as this particular instance of the Qur’an’s trans-
latability was brought to the attention of Rashid Rida in Cairo,
Muhammadiyah felt compelled to withdraw its support and com-
ply with its own alignment to Cairene modernism. Rashid Rida’s
legal opinion against this translation was published in al-Manār
in July 1928, yet in September the Sarekat Islam council allowed
Tjokroaminoto to continue his work, which was published later the
same year.52
Sarekat Islam, then, reaffirmed its character as a modernist, yet
Indonesia-centred, Islamic organization, of which Kartosuwiryo was
an exemplary representative. In April 1928, in his effort to decon-
struct the misperception of Islam as an element foreign to the
Indies’ culture, Kartosuwiryo argued that the Qur’an speaks to all
peoples, at all times and in all languages, and that a Malay transla-
tion would have been a step in the direction of the consolidation
of nationalism, while at the same time strengthening individual
piety.53
At the 1929 provincial congress, speeches addressing socio-
economic issues related to rural life went hand-in-hand with pow-
51 Muhammadiyah was established by Ahmad Dahlan upon his return from Mecca, in 1912;
this organization had the stated goal of ‘purifying’ Indonesian Islam from innovation and local
traditions.
52 Nur Ichwan has looked at this instance of Qur’an translation to conclude that Rashid
Rida’s objection to a Malay (English, Dutch or Turkish) Qur’anic text was a marker of ‘the
attitudes of Arabic-speaking Muslims towards non-Arabic-speaking Muslims’. The absence
of such debates in Indonesia, Nur Ichwan continues, should then not be seen as a deviation
from Islamic modernist thought, but rather as a practical implication of the fact that most
Muslims did not speak Arabic. See Moch Nur Ichwan, ‘Differing responses to an Ahmadi
translation and exegesis: The Holy Qur’ān in Egypt and Indonesia’, Archipel 62 (2001):
pp. 143-61.
53 Kartosuwiryo, ‘Bertoekar fikiran: Agama dan politiek II’, Fadjar Asia, 4 April 1928.
30
erful speeches on the Islamic basis of nationalism and recitations

of Qur’anic verses accompanied by takbir. Notably, Kartosuwiryo’s
contribution stands out for its lack of references to nationalism and
Islam, focusing instead on problems of irrigation and land owner-
ship. Beginning with a complaint about the contamination of water-
ways, which had caused the death by malaria of about 90 people in
the Cianjur area, Kartosuwiryo then swiftly moved to criticize the
granting of agricultural land to Indo-Europeans at advantageous
premiums. Kartosuwiryo pointed to local and national implications
of these policies: on the one hand villagers from Lampung, afraid
of government authorities and the police, had fled their villages,
burning houses and trees, and on the other hand he was concerned
that once independence was achieved, this land still would not
belong to the Indonesian people.54 Kartosuwiryo’s words suggest
that he saw Indo-Europeans as more European than Indonesian.
The issue of the relationship between ethnicity and citizenry would
become an important aspect of the nationalist debate, as Indone-
sian Chinese and Arabs were gradually pushed out of the picture
as ‘foreigners’.
Gatot Mangkoepradja and Soekarno delivered their speeches
in Malay rather than Sundanese, and the content – as well as the
medium – shows how PNI gatherings would usually address an
urban audience. They focused on the Russo-Japanese war, labour
workers, and the necessity of overcoming differences in the name
of cooperation. It is only in looking at the political milieu of these
congresses that we can understand the balancing act attempted by
Tjokroaminoto, who in his concluding speech mentioned the evils
of imperialism and capitalism, comparing them to Gog and Magog,
at the same time invoking the blessing of the One and Only God.
At the aftermath of this congress, Kartosuwiryo spent some
time in West Java, and between August and October 1929, he
often visited the Priangan region to represent the central execu-
tive committee.55 Nonetheless, it is evident that he was still based
54 ‘Aanbieding van verslagen van Provinciale PSII congressen in Midden-Java van 2 tot 5
Augustus en in West-Java van 16 tot 1[9] Augustus’ [1929], AMK GMr, no. 69, NA. This issue
is also discussed in Kartosuwiryo, ‘Perkara tanah: Bangsa mendjadi oekoeran hak’, Fadjar Asia,
16 August 1929. Another aspect of Dutch policies mentioned in his speech is colonial expan-
sion through religion, land and trade. The adviser for internal affairs, Gobee, commented on
Kartosuwiryo’s speech, saying that ‘even though this case might be important, the speech was
useless because of the unbelievably incorrect one-sided view of affairs’. See also Politiek-politioneele
overzichten van Nederlandsch-Indië [hereafter PPO], August 1929, pp. 184-5.
55 Fadjar Asia, 13 August 1929. Kartosuwiryo is sent to Cianjur together with other party offi-
cers to solve unspecified ‘party problems’; in Fadjar Asia, 5 October 1929 and 8 October 1929,
Kartosuwiryo is representing the Ladjnah Tanfidziyah (executive committee) of PSII at a propa-
ganda meeting in Nagrek (Cicalengka).
31
in Jakarta, where he was active in the youth group. In August he

established the Taman Marsoedi Kasoesastran, an educational
institution that held classes on subjects ranging from science and
English to Dutch and Arabic, and which also had a bookshop.56
During these months Kartosuwiryo regularly lectured members
of the Sarekat Islam Angkatan Pemoeda (SIAP, SI Youth Group)
in Jakarta, cultivating these youngsters’ morals and strengthening
their debating skills.57 Every Thursday night, his house would host
educational tabligh sessions, during which he focused on the fun-
damental principles of Islam, the sciences, and the youth move-
ment in general.58
We can see the importance Kartosuwiryo placed on the youth
branch through his own eyes: when introducing the new Solo-
Surabaya PMI (Pemoeda Moeslimin Indonesia, or Indonesian
Muslim Youth) branch, which was another local youth wing of
Sarekat Islam not appreciably different from SIAP,59 Kartosu-
wiryo explained that Islamic youth groups had great potential
to combine strong religious dedication, a deep desire to act for
the benefit of the people, the nation and religion, and a thirst
for knowledge of Islam, general sciences and speech-giving. All
this, he argued, would eventually create a group of ‘perfect Mus-
lims’, whose minds would be filled with faith and knowledge and
whose actions would be fully dedicated to the implementation of
Islam.60
Malangbong
The complicated nature of local network politics during this time is
evident in Kartosuwiryo’s connection to Malangbong, a village situ-
ated on the busy winding road that connects Bandung to Ciamis
and Banjar in the heartland of the Priangan region in the moun-
tainous province of West Java.
The Jakarta branch of PSII, where Kartosuwiryo was actively
involved, established a women’s wing in late August 1929. The
Sarekat Islam Bagian Isteri (SI Women’s Group) was, in a way, led
by ‘party wives’, as its chairwoman was Siti Roehati, wife of the PSII
Jakarta vice-president, and its vice-secretary was Siti Kalsoem, iden-
56 Fadjar Asia, 15 August 1929, 16 September 1929 and 26 September 1929.
57 Fadjar Asia, 18 September 1929: untuk mendidik budi pekerti, the same expression later used
to describe the Soeffah Institute.
58 Fadjar Asia, 22 October 1929.
59 Kartosuwiryo, ‘Pergerakan pemoeda dan politiek’, Fadjar Asia, 19 April 1929.
60 Kartosuwiryo, ‘Halangan PMI Solo’, Fadjar Asia, 28 June 1929.
32
tified as Kartosuwiryo’s wife.61 In a society in which socio-political

networks dictated one’s fortune and misfortune, such a marriage
was quite likely to represent an alliance between Kartosuwiryo and
PSII in West Java, as Siti Kalsoem was the daughter of Kiyai Ardi-
wisastra, chairman of the party’s Malangbong branch.
A second important aspect related to this union is the social
status brought along by Kiyai Ardiwisastra’s position as a represen-
tative of an important aristocratic (menak) Sundanese family and
a revered Islamic scholar. These two elements played an impor-
tant role in transforming Kartosuwiryo into a bearer of traditional
authority in the years that followed, as well as in the deepening of
his own religious knowledge.
Reportedly, Kartosuwiryo used to spend long hours with local
kiyai, among whom were party leaders Moestafa Kamil and Joesoef
Taoeziri, mentioned above.62 Moestafa Kamil (born 1884) was him-
self the son of a well known kiyai in Garut and had long studied in
pesantren in West and East Java and also in Mecca. It was in Mecca
that he first encountered Hadji Agoes Salim, and first heard of
Sarekat Islam. Upon his return to Garut, Moestafa Kamil joined the
ranks of the local branch and soon became a prominent political
figure who was also often imprisoned by the colonial police.
Joesoef Taoeziri (died 1982), too, was renowned for his religious
knowledge and was among the early members of the Sarekat Islam
branch in Ciparay. Both kiyai were arrested with Tjokroaminoto in
relation with the Cimareme Afdeeling B affair in 1919, during which
the Dutch authorities suspected some Sarekat Islam members of
having established a ‘section B’ of the party aimed at exterminating
all Europeans and Chinese in Java.63
Taoeziri entered the Party Central Board in 1931 and left in
1938, one year before Moestafa Kamil became a member. Where
these two politicians differed was in their approach to Islamic poli-
tics during the Japanese occupation. In the 1940s Moestafa Kamil
was recruited as a lecturer for West Java’s armed wing of the Islamic
61 Fadjar Asia, 29 August 1929. This seemed to happen quite often. See also the women’s
wing of PSI in Sungai Batang, Meninjau, Sumatra, in Fadjar Asia, 1 August 1929. Pandji Poestaka
reported that the initiative of creating a women section of PSI had been spearheaded by Tjok-
roaminoto’s wife, and that this group’s leadership reflected that of the general Sarekat Islam
party. ‘Kroniek Hindia’, Pandji Poestaka no. 72, 6 September 1929, p. 1144.
62 Pinardi, Sekarmadji Maridjan, pp. 24-5, and an interview conducted by the author in Malan-
gbong, 6 February 2008.
63 On Afdeeling B see Else Ensering, ‘Afdeeling B of Sarekat Islam. A rebellious islamic move-
ment’, in Dick Kooiman, Otto van den Muijzenberg, and Peter van der Veer (eds), Conversion,
competition, and conflict: Essays on the role of religion in Asia (Amsterdam: VU Uitgeverij, 1984);
William A. Oates, ‘The Afdeeling B: An Indonesian case study’, Journal of Southeast Asian History
(March 1968).
33
party, the Hizboellah (literally ‘Party of God’) troops, and after the
capitulation, he joined Kartosuwiryo’s Darul Islam. Taoeziri, on the
other hand, rejected military intervention and established his own
school in Ciparay, pesantren Daroel Salam (Abode of Peace), dedi-
cating his full attention to teaching.64
Islam, authority and leadership in the Priangan
In 1925, Adviser for Domestic Affairs (Inlandsche Zaken) R.A. Kern

observed that the Dutch East India Company’s takeover in West
Java had increased the religious authority of the bupati (regents),
as they were called imam or khalifa and considered substitutes of
the kings of Mataram, the sixteenth-century Islamic empire of Cen-
tral Java.65 More recently it has been suggested that in rural West
Java the local aristocracy – the menak – had been transformed into
a political elite by the Mataram Empire and kept as such by the
Dutch East India Company and the colonial government. Herlina
Lubis has argued that this phenomenon eventually resulted in the
merging of the roles of bupati and ulama (religious scholar), as the
menak succeeded in maintaining both the political power bestowed
upon them by the Dutch and the people’s recognition as bearers of
traditional authority.66
Ardiwisastra was not only a member of the menak aristocracy
and a kiyai pesantren, but also the local PSII chairman, and the vice-
bupati. By marrying his daughter, Kartosuwiryo strengthened his
political standing in Sarekat Islam and gained a position within tra-
ditional patterns of authority. In the 1970s, Karl Jackson argued that
Darul Islam followers joined in the rebellion because of networks
of authority. However, he referred to individual village kiyai, while
downplaying Kartosuwiryo’s role as the movement’s leader.67 What
64 Biographic data for Moestafa Kamil are from Ismail, ‘Perjuangan K.H. Mustofa Kamil
pada masa penjajahan dan kemerdekaan di Garut antara tahun 1914-1945’ (thesis, IAIN Sunan
Gunung Jati, 1998). For Joesoef Taoeziri, see Dudung, ‘Peristiwa Cipari’ (thesis, Universitas
Padjadjaran, 1987) and Wahyudi, ‘Aktivitas K.H. Yusuf Tauzirie dalam mengembangkan syiar
Islam di desa Cipari kecamatan Wanaraja kabupaten Garut (1926-1981)’ (thesis, UIN Sunan
Gunung Jati, 2006). On Moestafa Kamil as dewan partij member, see Berita Priangan, 17 July 1939.
65 Letter from R.A. Kern, 9 June 1925, p. 12, in Mohammad Iskandar, Para pengemban amanah:
Pergulatan pemikiran kiai dan ulama di Jawa Barat, 1900-1950 (Yogyakarta: MataBangsa, 2001),
p. 66.
66 Nina Herlina Lubis, ‘Religious thoughts and practices of the kaum menak: Strengthening
traditional power’, Studia Islamika 10-2 (2003): pp. 5-7.
67 Karl D. Jackson, Traditional authority and national integration: A study of Indonesian political
behaviour (Berkeley/London: University of California Press, 1980 [1971]). His argument is fur-
ther analysed in the concluding chapter to this book.
34
I am suggesting, instead, is that traditional networks of authority

worked to the advantage of Kartosuwiryo’s career, allowing him to
start creating a following well before the rebellion began.
Herlina Lubis develops her argument from the observation
that Priangan society displayed several examples in which the link
between local aristocracy and Islam is embodied in members of the
menak group who were also ulama, as in the cases of Hadji Hasan
Moestafa of Garut (1852-1930) and Raden Hadji Moehammad
Moesa (1822-1886). While recognizing the exceptionalism of these
figures, Lubis nonetheless concludes that ‘all kaum menak were
required to make Islam a factor in their political thoughts and prac-
tices’. The kaum menak obtained religious legitimation by closely
aligning their social and political life with Islamic values and institu-
tions. For example, they often attended and sponsored the build-
ing of pesantren, thereby creating strong bonds with local ulama.
A body of legends claiming that kaum menak families descended
from the Sultan of Pajang – an extension of the Demak Sultanate in
sixteenth-century Java – or from Prabu Siliwangi of Pajajaran – the
pre-Islamic Sundanese Empire – also served to further strengthen
their connections with traditional religious and political authority.
More relevant to Kartosuwiryo’s case, the political authority
embodied by this elite was founded on local concepts of power,
described as pulung in Javanese or wahyu in Arabic, a term that also
indicates a ‘divine revelation’. These local ideologies tended to
identify authority as something bestowed either from a previous
king or a bupati, or directly through God’s blessing. When consid-
ered alongside the fact that a bupati who could display religious
knowledge and understanding was held in higher regard than one
who could not, it can be concluded that the adoption of Islamic
values in kaum menak’s traditions was pursued in favour of their own
political interests.68
Villagers often perceived these bupati as ‘holy people’, from
whom blessings could be obtained because of their alleged supernat-
ural abilities and connections with the world of magic. Nonetheless,
among these ulama-bupati aristocrats there was still a strong tendency
towards orthodoxy and towards the implementation of sharia law.
Material testimony of Priangan menak’s syncretism can be found in
the maintenance of their heirlooms, which usually consisted of keris
(daggers with undulated blades deemed to possess spiritual essence),
spears, swords, books, puppets, and the like. These were deemed to
possess magical powers, but at the same time were considered reli-
gious symbols, as they often featured Qur’anic inscriptions, and were
68 Lubis, ‘Religious thoughts’: pp. 10-8.
35
used in Islamic ceremonies, such as the Prophet’s birthday (Maulid

Nabi).69 This characterization of Sundanese menak as bridge between
the supernatural world of magic and Islamic orthodoxy fits well with
later tales of Kartosuwiryo’s charismatic leadership.
In his first biography, published in 1963, just one year after his
capture and execution, Kartosuwiryo was presented as having a com-
plex character. He was described as a mystic, believed by his follow-
ers to practice the ilmu Joyoboyo (‘science of prophecy’, see footnote)
and to be the Imam Mahdi (Islamic messianic figure) or Ratu Adil
(Just King).70 In this biography, much attention is dedicated to the
accounts of Kartosuwiryo’s followers, some of whom maintained that
God had chosen him as their leader through divine revelation. Oth-
ers claimed that he had received the wahyu Cakraningrat Sadar, which
among all the wahyu is the only one bestowed upon kings, and that he
had been invested with the title of Kalifatullah seluruh ummat manusia,
or representative of God to the entire Islamic community. It was said
that he owned amulets (jimat) that protected him even from bullets,
as well as a keris and a cundrik (a small keris with a straight blade). Put
simply, his followers deemed him to have sakti (divine power) .71
This representation of Kartosuwiryo as both a fanatical Muslim
and a mystic quickly became predominant in the literature, espe-
cially as writers made increasing use of tales recounted by Darul
Islam/Tentara Islam Indonesia (DI-TII) members. Pinardi, the
author of Kartosuwiryo’s other major biography, reports the com-
ment of one TII militiaman, who recalled Kartosuwiryo as
a very fanatical religious man with strong mystical beliefs. To several

of his followers he once admitted to be the reincarnation of Raden
Patah, one of the most famous men of religion and the first sultan
of Demak, the first Sultanate of Java. He told his devotees that for
long he had desired to establish the NII [Negara Islam Indonesia]
and that only he could become the leader, or imam, because he had
been predestined for that by God […] Kartosuwiryo once said he
had received the wahyu Cakraningrat Sadar from God, this was like a
beam of bright light from the sky down onto him.72
69 Lubis, ‘Religious thoughts’: pp. 18-20, 26.

70 Joyoboyo (or Jayabaya) is, generally speaking, a mystical foretelling (ramalan). Nancy Florida
describes Joyoboyo texts as follows: ‘texts of this genre turn on historical periodization, politi-
cal symbology, and, especially, prophecy.’ Florida, Writing the past, inscribing the future: History as
prophecy in colonial Java (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 1995), p. 273.
71 Amak Sjariffudin, Kisah Kartosuwirjo dan menjerahnja, 3rd ed. (Surabaya: Grip, 1963), pp. 7,
20-1. This text contains several biographical mistakes; nonetheless, it is still worth discussing its
approach to the character of Kartosuwiryo.
72 Pinardi, Sekarmadji Maridjan, p. 41.
36
The story goes that whilst Kartosuwiryo was in the jungle, a ray of
light appeared in front of him and an ‘essence’ (zat) drew the kali-
mat shahadat (Islamic profession of faith) on his forehead. Pinardi
concluded that this aura of mystery, mysticism and fanaticism was
Kartosuwiryo’s key ‘leadership skill’, or seni kepemimpinan.73
In the mid 1970s, the idea of mysticism as an aspect of Kartosu-
wiryo’s leadership was reaffirmed in the pages of his psychological
evaluation:74
Kartosuwiryo’s intelligence is great, […] Intuition has empowered

him as a leader, […] and has also induced his interest in mysticism
and metaphysics. At the same time, his rationality was so developed
that his objective critical capacity was dominant, and it has become
representative of his thinking and actions. His mystical activities
were neither essential nor fundamental to him, and he approached
them in a critical way. So the mystical path that he might have expe-
rienced was maybe something meaningful on a personal level. His
mystical activities – the little available news on these – were used as
a tool to strengthen the implementation of his ideas. Thus, he used
mysticism as a tool neither essential nor crucial to him, but rather
as an element of authority in the face of the masses he led.75
Hiroko Horikoshi, in her study of Darul Islam’s following, takes

a similar approach. In explaining the initial success of the Darul
Islam, she places the appeal of Kartosuwiryo’s charisma on the
same level as the failure of national Islamic parties, and the paral-
lel military and historical circumstances. Horikoshi ultimately con-
cludes that Kartosuwiryo succeeded in gathering support as a result
of the combination of military-political circumstances, Islamic poli-
tics, and personal characteristics:
He evidently possessed the invaluable quality, typical among Java’s

jago (champions) of being gagah (translated in a colloquial sense
as ‘having guts’) [...] Men who are gagah fear nothing but God and
are strongly convinced of their cause (yakin). They tell the truth
73 Pinardi, Sekarmadji Maridjan, p. 45.

74 This investigation examined intelligence, emotional behaviour, motivation, personal devel-
opment since 1950 and prognoses for the future. It is interesting to note that the doctors explic-
itly stated that Kartosuwiryo’s motivation for pursuing the rebellion was rooted in childhood
developments and therefore impossible to assess at that point in time.
75 Dinas Sedjarah TNI, Penumpasan pemberontakan D.I./T.I.I., S.M. Kartosuwiryo di Jawa Barat
(Bandung: Dinas Sejarah Tentara Nasional Indonesia Angkatan Darat, 1982 [1974]), p. 35,
quote p. 33.
37
even to the authorities without any fear of the consequences. Such

a charismatic man inspires awe (segan) in his followers. […] Where
gagah behavior is associated with a high cause, it commands great
respect and obedience. In rural Java high causes have traditionally
been based on the values of communal peace, prosperity, and social
justice, and expressed either in indigenous (Ratu Adil) or Islamic
(Imam Mahdi) idioms.76
Mysticism and ‘uncompromising advocacy of Islamic ideals’ are

the markers of Kartosuwiryo’s success, an ideal combination for
being recognized as a leader in Java.77 It is surprising that subse-
quent scholars have not taken this suggestion more seriously,
focusing instead on either belittling Kartosuwiryo’s commitment
to the establishment of an Islamic state or sanctifying his endeav-
ours while erasing his charisma and mysticism. I further address
this point in the concluding chapter of this book. To Horikoshi’s
analysis, I would add that Kartosuwiryo’s becoming part of a menak
bupati-ulama family in the early stages of his career in West Java
further enhanced his appeal as a successful leader in the Priangan.
developing an islamic nationalist ideology
Within the first four months of beginning to contribute to Fadjar

Asia, Kartosuwiryo had already addressed the major topics that
would constitute his ideology: criticism of colonial policies, socio-
economic injustice, abuse of power by police, governmental inter-
ference in religious matters, religious and political neutrality, the
internal nationalist debate, Islam’s modernity and the international
dimensions of the nationalist struggle.
Kartosuwiryo’s articles appeared in Fadjar Asia between April
1928 and May 1930 and show a coherent, if somewhat fragmented,
picture of how he viewed the state of the indigenous population
and its relation both to the colonial administration and to the inter-
national anti-colonial and anti-capitalist movements. In April 1929
Kartosuwiryo lamented that
in politics, economics, but also society, the world still searches and
gropes in the dark. The strong ones inevitably rule, and the weak
76 Hiroko Horikoshi, ‘The Dar-ul-Islam movement in West Java (1942-62): An experience in
the historical process’, Indonesia 20 (1975): p. 73.
77 Hiroko Horikoshi, ‘The Dar-ul-Islam movement’, p. 73.
38
are governed, the rich accumulate material things and the poor fail
to do so, and every day the burden to be carried increases. Hun-
dreds of thousands of traders and businessmen fail in their trades.
Hundreds of thousands are the old farmers who don’t own any land
anymore because it has been bought off by someone else, and they
are now transformed into labourers, [dragged] deep into slavery
and humiliation.78
Kartosuwiryo applied his understanding of socio-economic oppres-

sion, which emerged from his direct experience in Java, to similar
situations across the world and history. The examples he produced
were from Russia, China, and France, but his heart and mind were
in Sukabumi, where taxes and the cost of living had increased to
the point that local farmers were forced to sell their land to pay
current expenses, and then to rent back smaller pieces of their own
sawah paddy field to sustain their families.
The absence of, and quest for, justice is at the centre of more
than twenty articles, in which socio-economic injustice takes sev-
eral different forms in various aspects of the indigenous popu-
lation’s life. In addition to focusing on the constant economic
harassment by the colonial administration at the local and
national levels, Kartosuwiryo dedicates considerable attention to
police intrusions at political activities and religious gatherings.
Sarekat Islam party members were jailed, party cadres questioned
and prayer sessions broken up with little apparent reason other
than creating difficulties for the gerakan, in the rural areas as
much as in Batavia.
Such occurrences were lessons Kartosuwiryo would use to
enlighten his readership on the party’s political strategy and on the
reasons Islamic nationalism offered a more solid foundation upon
which to build an anti-colonial movement than did secular nation-
alism, which professed neutrality towards religion.
The very first article Kartosuwiryo wrote for Fadjar Asia was titled
‘Religion and politics’, and it imagines a fictional debate between
a ‘modern’ Muslim, and a pious ‘conservative’ Muslim.79 The fig-
ures are opposed to explain how being pious does not mean being
‘traditional’, but rather means looking at the socio-political prob-
78 Kartosuwiryo, ‘Keber’atan ra’iat’, Fadjar Asia, 27 April 1929.

79 This debate between kaum muda and kaum kolot (or kaum tua) was also often featured in
Taman Pewarta; however, here the modernized man works within the framework of the colonial
policy, whilst the ‘traditional’ man is the one that fears the loss of his Javaneseness because of the
Dutch-ification of customs, rather than his religious values. See Paul Tickell, ‘Taman Pewarta:
Malay medium-Indonesian message’, in The Indonesian press: Its past, its people, its problems, Paul
Tickell (ed.), Annual Indonesian Lecture Series (Melbourne: Monash University, 1987).
39
lems of the Indies’ through the lens of religion. The pious man
addresses the modern man, saying,
Maybe, then, you don’t know that religion embodies rules, rules
for this world and the hereafter. Hence, religion is political. Aren’t
you aware that in the history of Islam there are Islamic empires,
Islamic wars, and so forth? Colonial politics itself is founded on
religion, especially the Christian religion; there is a policy named
Kersteningspolitiek, aimed at Christianizing the Indonesian popula-
tion. Hence, religion is an important factor in colonial politics.
Upon hearing this statement, the modern Muslim, who works for
the Dutch administration, is easily convinced and sets aside the
common, secular understanding of religion as a private matter. He
replies: ‘If that is so, Islam is also political.’80
Throughout Kartosuwiryo’s writings, the focus is on the need
to obtain freedom, independence, merdeka. Achieving indepen-
dence, however, is not important for its own sake, but rather for
the sake of creating an environment favourable to the implementa-
tion of Islamic laws and the establishment of a government based
on Islam.81 In this understanding, the way out of oppression and
poverty is religion:
Hold on to the ties connecting the Islamic ummah! Hold on to Islam

truly! Follow the orders of Allah, and stay away from that which He
forbids. Clearly this is the noble way to obtain freedom for the peo-
ple and the motherland in a more encompassing and true sense,
liberated from all forms of slavery, humiliation and subjugation,
which are still now affecting us Indonesians in general and Muslims
in particular.82
But these are not just empty words of propaganda, aimed at rallying
the support of disenchanted peasants; this is a political platform, in
which ‘Islam’ and ‘the orders of Allah’ are to be translated into a
free, independent, sovereign Islamic state:
We must prioritize and put our deepest efforts into establishing

and building such [Islamic] government, so that we can succeed
in becoming one ummah, holding its laws, implementing such laws
80 Kartosuwiryo, ‘Bertoekar fikiran: Agama dan politiek’, Fadjar Asia, 3 April 1928.
81 Kartosuwiryo, ‘Faham koeno dan faham moeda’, Fadjar Asia, 12 September 1928.
82 Kartosuwiryo, ‘Keber’atan ra’iat’, Fadjar Asia, 27 April 1929.
40
independently, and having sovereignity over our own land. In short:

[we have to do this] so that we can follow Islamic sharia law in its
most perfect and complete way, in all matters.83
Such a bold statement, made in May 1930, must be seen in rela-

tion to the repeated intrusions of the colonial government in the
activities of the Sarekat Islam Party and in its religious gatherings in
Malangbong. His claim should be read in light of the debate on the
government’s supposed ‘neutrality’ towards religion, a stand that,
according to Kartosuwiryo, had been broken when the government
requested that each mosque obtain official permission to hold con-
gregational prayers on Fridays.84
This concept of being ‘neutral’ towards religion was first formu-
lated by Snouck Hurgronje, who, according to Kartosuwiryo, had
suggested that
the government must be careful on matters relating to Islam. On

Islamic understanding, the government must be neutraal. Never
make a comment on the Caliphate question, especially on pan-
Islamism […], educate Indonesian children, and give them classes
on all subjects but religion […], seek friendship between Holland
and Indonesia on matters of politics and nationalism, but do not
envisage friendship in religion.
This effort towards establishing ‘neutral education’ is defined by

Kartosuwiryo as ‘associationist’ and an attempt to westernize not
just education but, ultimately, the Indies’ population by stripping it
of its nationalist sentiment.85
Himself the product of Dutch schooling, Kartosuwiryo felt that
the imposition of higher education in the language of the colonial
administration was part of the Dutch policy to ‘divide and rule’,
ultimately aimed at fragmenting the unity of the Indonesian peo-
ple. It is along these lines that Kartosuwiryo argued in favour of the
use of Malay for intellectuals and nationalist leaders.86
Neutrality soon became the core issue of the debate within the
nationalist movement. However, the exact meaning of ‘neutrality’
was far from clear. Secular nationalists took it to mean a rejection
of religion as a political ideology in favour of ‘nationalism’. For
83 Kartosuwiryo, ‘Lagi tentang oelil amri’, Fadjar Asia, 24 May 1930.
84 Kartosuwiryo, ‘Boepati dan agama Islam’, Fadjar Asia, 21 April 1930.
85 Kartosuwiryo, ‘Politiek djadjahan dan igama IV’, Fadjar Asia, 14 June 1928.
86 Kartosuwiryo, ‘Bangsa dan bahasa’, Fadjar Asia, 8 May 1928, and Kartosuwiryo, ‘Politiek
djadjahan dan igama V’, Fadjar Asia, 16 June 1928.
41
many religious organizations, including Muhammadiyah, ‘neutral-

ity’ entailed safeguarding their own survival by stepping out of the
political arena entirely, and concerning themselves only with social
activities without opposing those organizations that involved them-
selves with it. For Kartosuwiryo, neither attitude made sense, nor
could either lead to success.
In another fictional conversation, Kartosuwiryo presents the
‘modern’ man as employed in the colonial bureaucracy and con-
vinced that only by being ‘neutral’ can he keep his position. For
him, neutrality means ‘not mixing with Indonesian political orga-
nizations’, especially Sarekat Islam.87 It was this very audience, the
Indonesians employed in the colonial administration and fearful
of political-religious involvement, that Kartosuwiryo targeted when
explaining that it is impossible to be neutral. To those who argued
that the principle behind their organizations is ‘only Indonesian
nationalism’ – as did Jong Java and Pemoeda Indonesia – Karto-
suwiryo answered that the ‘neutral effort’ was an ‘empty effort’:
‘Our measures are the Qur’an and the hadith [prophetic tradi-
tions]. Instead they have… science, intelligence, and whatever else.
But most people would admit that science changes and expands,
depending on theories; in a word, science is not constant’.88
To Kartosuwiryo, those who based their nationalism solely
on their love of the motherland without recognizing any higher
unchanging principle were doomed to become political ‘chame-
leons’.89 Similarly, when commenting on the nationalist anthem,
Indonesia Raya, which refers to the motherland as Ibu and Dewi, Kar-
tosuwiryo deplored this form of nationalism as ‘chauvinistic’ and
easy to ‘turn into capitalism and imperialism’.90
Where Kartosuwiryo interpreted the Dutch ‘divide and rule’
approach as an attempt to fragment indigenous society and one
that might have been countered, for example, by using the Malay
language, Soekarno instead saw it as the ideological fragmenta-
tion of the anti-colonial front from within, which could only be
overcome through internal collaboration. Following on his early
attempt to merge the nationalist, religious and socialist movements
into one, which he expressed in his 1926 Islamisme, nasionalisme, dan
Marxisme pamphlet, in 1927 Soekarno succeeded in establishing
the Permoefakatan Perhimpoenan Politik Kebangsaan Indonesia
(PPPKI, Agreement of Indonesian People’s Political Associations).
87 Kartosuwiryo, ‘Pertjakapan di dalam kereta api’, Fadjar Asia, 15 May 1928.
88 Kartosuwiryo, ‘Sambil laloe: Soeara baroe! Model lama’, Fadjar Asia, 4 May 1929.
89 Kartosuwiryo, ‘Faham koeno dan faham moeda’, Fadjar Asia, 12 September 1928.
90 Kartosuwiryo, ‘Indonesia Raja dan… kerbau’, Fadjar Asia, 6 August 1929.
42
This federation was the outcome of the collaborative efforts of

Soekarno, Tjokroaminoto and Salim, and was an attempt at unify-
ing the nationalist front.
For the first two years Sarekat Islam argued that PPPKI was just
a federation of parties and not a union (persatuan), and therefore
allowed participating organizations to maintain their autonomy. In
March 1929, however, Sarekat Islam took a stronger position against
PPPKI and its attitude of cooperation with the colonial authorities
(a point further discussed in the next chapter), and it gradually
distanced itself from the federation. As several branches of PSII
had not obtained permission from the party’s executive committee
to participate in the August 1929 PPPKI congress, a rumour began
circulating in secular circles that Kartosuwiryo had influenced the
decision to exclude these groups in support of his anti-cooperation-
ist approach. Fadjar Asia responded to this accusation by explaining
that the decision had been made on financial grounds. To this offi-
cial response, Kartosuwiryo added his personal perspective on the
issue of ‘unity’, stating that a true and genuine union can only be
based on Islam, as any other form of persatuan would only be based
on fear of the enemy.91
Kartosuwiryo took the idea that genuine unity could only be
obtained within the frame of Islamic groups and extended it to
the international dimensions of the anti-colonial struggle. As
Tjokroaminoto had already pointed out in his Islam dan sosialisme,
socialism and Islamism both relied on international networks for
the achievement of their socio-political goals. However, where
Tjokroaminoto and Soekarno had used this commonality to bridge
differences, Kartosuwiryo used it to prove Islam’s superiority over
secular ideologies.
Even though it might appear to conflict with the nationalist
objectives of the Sarekat Islam party, what follows shows that the
shifts between Islamic nationalism and pan-Islamic transnational-
ism cannot be understood apart from their historical contingen-
cies, an approach that I also apply to understanding this same
phenomenon in the 1930s-1950s period.92
91 On PSI and PPPKI see Kartosuwiryo, ‘Sambil laloe: Lagi tentang persatoean’, Fadjar Asia,
12 March 1929; ‘Sambil laloe: Lagi tentang persatoean II’, Fadjar Asia, 15 March 1929; ‘Kongres
P3KI kedoea’, Fadjar Asia, 10 August 1929; ‘Liga, Perhimpoenan Indonesia dan kita’, Fadjar Asia,
31 August 1929; ‘Boekan merintangi, melainkan tidak toeroet’, Fadjar Asia, 4 September 1929;
‘Sambil laloe: Pikiran sehat’, Fadjar Asia, 7 September 1929; ‘Soe’al persatoean’, Fadjar Asia, 10
September 1929; ‘Warta bagi pers’, Fadjar Asia, 13 September 1929. See also PPO, August 1929,
p. 177.
92 An earlier draft of this section has been published in Formichi, ‘Pan-Islam and religious
nationalism’.
43
Kartosuwiryo first raised the issue of Islamic transnationalism in

July 1928. Arguing for the primacy of Islam, Kartosuwiryo pointed
to the socio-political dimensions of the hajj pilgrimage as a physi-
cal manifestation of Islamic brotherhood, crossing boundaries of
ethnicity, language and nationality.93
The term pan-Islamism appears for the first time in late Sep-
tember 1928. When commenting on the colonial authorities’ mis-
management of justice, Kartosuwiryo calls for Indonesian Muslims
to ‘wake up’ and join the one organization, PSII, that defends
the people and is ready to sacrifice itself to ensure its top priority,
pan-Islamism: ‘Our movement dedicates each and every bone of
its body to pan-Islamisme.’94 At this point in time Kartosuwiryo saw
pan-Islamism not as a goal per se, but rather as a political tool, an
orientation that became clearer in subsequent articles.
I am not suggesting that Sarekat Islam was instrumentalizing
pan-Islamism as an element of its political propaganda, but rather
that the idea of a global community united by the same religious
beliefs and striving for the same freedom from foreign domina-
tion was considered a powerful rallying point for political action. It
would only be in the 1950s that Kartosuwiryo developed a vision of
pan-Islamism as the final goal of his struggle. This he would repre-
sent as the creation of a transnational political entity, namely, a state
based on Islamic laws that unified the ummah worldwide. Despite
the existence of several secular political parties that claimed to be
inter-Asiatic, Kartosuwiryo believed that only Islam called for pure
and genuine cooperation across borders, untainted by political
opportunism.
Showing how difficult it was to balance nationalism and pan-
Islamism intellectually, Kartosuwiryo added that an additional
function of Islamic internationalism – which he also referred
to as inter-Islamism – was the creation of a network of Islamic
countries that desired to cooperate with one another on the road
to nationalism.95 This apparent contradiction, which recalls the
ideological shift in the Indian Khilafat movement, soon attracted
the attention of the Chinese-Malay newspaper Keng Po. In Novem-
ber 1928 its lead article argued that, ‘In Islam there is neither
nationalism nor internationalism’. But this polemic, instead of
harming the Islamic faction, became an ideal platform for Fadjar
Asia to further enlighten its readership about the political duties
of Muslims.
93 Kartosuwiryo, ‘Perdjalanan ketanah soetji’, Fadjar Asia, 20 July 1928.

94 Kartosuwiryo, ‘Aniajaan dan siksaan’, Fadjar Asia, 26 September 1928.
95 Kartosuwiryo, ‘Pertjaja kepada diri sendiri dan …’, Fadjar Asia, 31 October 1928.
44
Kartosuwiryo’s argument was twofold. On the one hand he

demonstrated Islam’s commitment to nationalism by invoking the
Prophet’s alleged saying, ‘Love for the homeland is a part of faith’.
On the other hand, he identified the struggle to become one uni-
fied Muslim nation as the political implication of the religious con-
cept of ummah, and pointed to the duty to perform pilgrimage as
the ‘broadest, purest, and holiest’ manifestation of this struggle.
Kartosuwiryo thus concluded that secular nationalists did not fully
understand the complexity of Islamic nationalism, which was aimed
not at the freedom and promotion of one people, one race or one
kingdom, but was instead pursued for the prosperity of ‘the One
God, One belief, One Prophet, One flag’ of Islam.96
Kartosuwiryo’s articles published in 1929 focused on domestic
politics, but as the debate among indigenous parties intensified,
Kartosuwiryo offered his reflections on the different characteristics
of nationalist ideologies in the Indies. In ‘Islam dan nasionalisme’,
Kartosuwiryo succeeded in balancing his warnings that national
pride might result in international confrontations together with
his effort to preserve the notion that one should love the mother-
land. To avoid this potentially ‘deviationist attitude’, Kartosuwiryo
argued that patriotism should follow the model of monotheism,
and thus should be directed towards what he called ‘Mono-Hoeman-
isme’, a term here used to described ‘the unity of the human race
to become one ummah’ (persatoean manoesia mendjadi satoe Oemmat).
Islam is ‘not just a way to establish relations between humans
and God’, but it can guide relations between humans and orga-
nizations. As such, it can help shape a wider concept of national-
ity (kebangsaan) that is not limited to its ‘usual understanding’.97 A
couple of months later Kartosuwiryo explained these differences,
contributing to the vigorous public debate over how nationhood
should be perceived under colonial rule. For Boedi Oetomo,
nationalism is ‘Javanese nationalism’; for Soekarno’s PNI, it is ‘pan-
Asianism’. But for Kartosuwiryo and the PSII, kebangsaan was not
to be linked to worldly desires nor was it limited by any territorial
boundary. It was wide and broad, and connected only to religious
affiliation and to the unity of Islam: Islamic nationalism was solely
committed to the prosperity of God.98
96 Kartosuwiryo, ‘Islamisme, nasionalisme dan internasionalisme I’, Fadjar Asia, 3 November
1928, and ‘Islamisme, nasionalisme dan internasionalisme II’, Fadjar Asia, 7 November 1928.
Quote from Keng Po and Qur’anic verse (in Indonesian) included in: Kartosuwiryo, ‘Islamisme,
nasionalisme dan internasionalisme I’.
97 Kartosuwiryo, ‘Islam dan nasionalisme’, Fadjar Asia, 24 May 1929.
98 Kartosuwiryo, ‘Berekor pandjang (pers dan politiek)’, Fadjar Asia, 2 July 1929.
45
concluding remarks
Born in a low-priyayi family and educated in the Dutch system,

Kartosuwiryo was to become a prominent political proponent of
anti-colonialism and anti-Western ideologies. He soon gained the
attention of authorities for his work as a journalist and the atten-
tion of Tjokroaminoto for his political engagement. And while the
former accused him of fanaticism, the latter reared him as a god-
son.
Gradually shifting his attention from socio-economic concerns
towards Islamic modernism, from condemning the colonial state for
ignoring the importance of religion in Indonesians’ lives to accus-
ing secular nationalists of doing the same in politics, Kartosuwiryo’s
own development mirrored the changes in the Sarekat Islam party.
Initially incorporating socialists and Islamists and embodying this
double soul in its leader, Tjokroaminoto, Sarekat Islam had clearly
defined itself as an Islamic political party in opposition to Soek-
arno’s secularism and Semaoen’s socialism by the end of the 1920s.
Exposed to international dynamics originating both in Europe and
the Middle East, regional and ethnic cultural organizations were
transformed into political parties that were increasingly defined by
their founding ideologies.
Kartosuwiryo’s dedication to gathering popular support in the
countryside, fostering the urban youth as ‘perfect Muslims’, and
creating new family connections in order to be recognizable as a
bearer of local and traditional authority were all key elements in his
leadership in subsequent decades. As the Dutch curbed political
activities, the anti-colonial front became increasingly fragmented,
with each party further radicalizing its position.
46
2
Political Islam in changing times

Sarekat Islam and Masyumi under the Dutch
and Japanese occupations (1930-1945)
Djadi, berdiri di luar, bukan berdiam diri!!

(So, we stand outside, we are not staying silent!!)1
The same forces that had ensured economic growth and prosper-
ity in the 1920s were, a decade later, pulling the Indies down the
road towards stagnation. The Great Depression that hit the West
inevitably reached the colonies, stalling exports of manufactured
goods and crop production. Schools were producing thousands of
unemployable graduates, and trained clerks were forced to take up
menial jobs, while older employees were fired to make room for
younger (cheaper) workers. Nonetheless, in urban Java real wages
increased, socio-economic conditions were no worse than usual and
the general economic distress did not stir political discontent, much
to the surprise of colonial authorities and nationalist leaders alike.2
The 1930s were characterized by the further fragmentation of
the nationalist movement, which experienced external pressure
from the heavy-handed colonial authorities, as well as internal
pressure from the movement’s own inability to find solid common
ground for a unified front. For Partai Sarekat Islam Indonesia, this
decade marked its isolation from mainstream politics, as the party
pulled out of PPPKI’s ‘brown front’,3 rejected any form of coopera-
tion with the Dutch and, under Kartosuwiryo’s guidance, became
increasingly concerned with Islamic politics.
Sarekat Islam’s commitment to non-cooperation is often
considered an earthquake second in damage only to the split
1 Kartosuwiryo, Sikap hidjrah PSII, 1936.

2 John Ingleson, ‘Urban Java during the depression’, Journal of Southeast Asian Studies, 19-2
(September 1988): pp. 292-309.
3 Soekarno had begun to refer to a ‘brown front’ in late 1927, in opposition to Dutch talks of
establishing a blank front (white front) under the leadership of the hardliner H.C. Zentgraff; see
Hering, Soekarno: Founding father, pp. 134-4.
between the ‘red’ and ‘white’ wings that occurred in 1923, as

membership dropped, leaders were expelled and splinter parties
mushroomed.
Yet, as anticipated by the changes in the party statutes in Decem-
ber 1929, the 1930s should also be seen as a time when the reli-
gious soul of the party gained prominence, ‘freed’ as it was both
from the controlling hand of Tjokroaminoto, who died in 1934,
and from diplomatic efforts to establish a common strategy with
the secularists. Even as Japan took over Java and Sumatra in 1942,
effectuating major changes in the independence movement, the
two groups were to remain separated, each with its own ideological
and strategic concerns.
kartosuwiryo: a rising star?
In January 1930 the Dutch authorities welcomed Kartosuwiryo’s

disappearance from the pages of Fadjar Asia, praising the editorial
board for ‘coming to its senses’ and realizing the threat presented
by his ‘fanatical’ and ‘intense’ articles. The Overzicht also voiced
its disapproval of the party’s choice to keep Kartosuwiryo within
the leadership cadres.4 Kartosuwiryo had only been appointed in
mid November 1929, as Agoes Salim had embarked for Geneva to
attend the International Labour Conference meeting in Decem-
ber, but the brevity of his appointment was not tied to his ideas, as
the Dutch had instead assumed.5
Kartosuwiryo continued to hold tight his position in the party;
if anything, the immediate future saw his influence on shaping
PSII policies increase. This holds true for the period between the
1930 Yogyakarta Congress, when the non-cooperation hijrah pol-
icy became central to the party, and 1936, when the party’s sturdy
commitment to this approach led to the deterioration of rela-
tions between Kartosuwiryo and Agoes Salim, a rift that ultimately
resulted in the fragmentation of the leadership.
It is likely that Kartosuwiryo’s withdrawal from the editorial
board was related to Salim’s return to Batavia and to his own bad
health, rather than to changing winds in the party. Fadjar Asia
advertised Kartosuwiryo’s presence at a PSII-Jakarta meeting on
5-6 January 1930, mentioning that he had participated ‘although
he has now [9 January] retreated to the mountains near Malan-
4 Algemeen overzicht, January 1930.

5 Hadji A. Salim, ‘Ma’loemat’, Fadjar Asia, 14 November 1929.
48
2 Political Islam in changing times |
gbong due to health problems’.6 These health concerns faded by

mid 1930 and did not prevent Kartosuwiryo from retaining his rank
in the party. This early January meeting, as well as the subsequent
party congress in Yogyakarta at the end of the month, were pivotal
in shaping Sarekat Islam’s future strategies, especially in relation
to the secular nationalist movement represented by Soekarno, his
PNI and the PPPKI federation. The initial attempt to set aside dif-
ferences over the role of religion and the level of cooperation with
the colonial authorities was doomed to fail, thus pulling PSII out of
the ‘brown front’ and radicalizing the Islamic and non-cooperative
attitudes of its members.
While in Malangbong, in April 1930 Kartosuwiryo started once
again to write for Fadjar Asia. The following year, further affirming
his stronghold in the Priangan, he was nominated Garut editor of
a new Sundanese newspaper, Sora Ra’jat Merdika, whilst Tjokroami-
noto was its editor in Bogor. Kartosuwiryo began travelling across
the region on propaganda tours in May. He headed a PSII-Garut
branch meeting to organize political action against the ‘wicked
and evil’ requirement of corvee.7 Along with Moestafa Kamil, Joe-
soef Taoeziri and other local leaders, Kartosuwiryo chaired an open
meeting of the Garut MOI to expound his political views, and his
choice of topics ranged from the impact of the plague epidemic
that had affected the region since February, to the duty to follow
Islamic law. This meeting was attended by some 3,500 people, and
Kartosuwiryo delivered his speech directly in Sundanese, an indica-
tion that he had already spent some time in West Java.8 It should
be remembered that Kartosuwiryo had already been married to Siti
Kalsum since August 1929, at least. On 10 June 1930, he addressed
the party constituency in Cilame on the right to assembly for Friday
prayers, and on 14 June he was in Leles at the local MOI meeting.9
Under Tjokroaminoto’s protection, Kartosuwiryo was reaching
the highest echelons of the party, as evidenced by his recurrent
invitations to lead propaganda campaigns10 and to chair party con-
ferences outside of Java.11
6 Fadjar Asia, 9 January 1930; Pinardi also mentions health problems for Kartosuwiryo around
1929. Pinardi, Sekarmadji Maridjan, p. 23.
7 Fadjar Asia, 7 May 1930.
8 Fadjar Asia, 4 June 1930. At a previous propaganda meeting in October 1929, a local repre-
sentative of PSI-Cicalengka acted as translator; see Fadjar Asia, 8 October 1929.
9 Fadjar Asia, 10 June 1930 and 14 June 1930. On Sora Ra’jat Merdika, see Algemeen overzicht, July
and August 1931, p. 14.
10 Overzicht, 18 June 1932, 10 September 1932 and 26 October 1935 report his many trips
across West Java.
11 Overzicht, 22 December 1934 and 11 May 1935.
49
redefining partai sarekat islam indonesia’s priorities
Pan-Islamism and non-cooperation
The 1930 party congress in Yogyakarta held in late January marked

the height of the friction between PSII and the PPPKI federation.
Despite Tjokroaminoto’s conciliatory tone and his efforts to revoke
past criticisms, Kartosuwiryo’s position was gaining stronger sup-
port, as his new role as commissar for West Java and member of
the executive committee gave him increased space to influence the
membership. What was at stake in these debates was Sarekat Islam’s
integrity as an Islamic party, as the condition for affiliation with
PPPKI was that members must be ‘Indonesian’ and thus affirm the
group’s identity as an ‘Indonesian’ party, while PSII (despite hav-
ing recently added the second ‘I’ to its name) was open to Muslims
from all over the world.12
This conflict was more than a mere matter of principle or the-
ology; it sheds light on the implications of being an Islamic party
that could not limit itself to a geographically defined area. This
position would be formalized on 28 December 1930 with Sangadji’s
statement that PSII, as an Islamic party, could no longer be part
of the Indonesian federation PPPKI, nor could it cooperate with
a despotic foreign ruler. A few months later, at the party congress,
Soekiman, who had initially co-founded the PPPKI with Soekarno,
concluded that ‘without any doubts, the PPPKI is imperialistic!’,13 a
claim that marked the final rupture.
The new party statute, as published in Fadjar Asia in mid January
1930, shows a change in priorities and a complete shift from being
12 PPO, January 1930, pp. 291, 293. The PSII Congress was held in Yogyakarta from 24 to
27 January 1930; ‘Verslag van het 16de congres der PSII, gehouden op Jogjakarta op den 24sten
tot den 27sten Januari 1930’ [1930], AMK GMr, no. 230x, NA, suggests that Kartosuwiryo was the
executive committee’s member for agriculture. The party board was represented by Tjokroami-
noto, Salim, Soerjopranoto, K.H. Anwaroedin, Wondosoedirdjo, Pardikin and Kadar, whilst the
other members of the executive committee were Soekiman and Kiyai Taoefiqoerachman, com-
missars for finance and for sharia and ‘ibada, respectively; Kiyai Taoefiqoerachman later, in 1945,
signed Masyumi’s call for jihad against the Dutch. Major points of discussion at this congress
were hereditary property, the poenale sanctie and guru ordonnantie, as well as opium consumption,
prostitution and gambling; these issues were specifically mentioned in an action programme
released on this occasion and named programma van actie (jihad). The 1945 call for jihad is further
investigated in Chapter 3.
13 ‘Verslag van de op 28 December 1930 te Batavia delegde [sic.] vergadering der PSII’ [1931],
AMK GMr, no. 327x, NA; ‘Verslag van het 17de Congres der Partai Sarekat Islam Indonesia’
[1931], AMK: Kabinet Verbaal Geheim [hereafter KVG] no. 5, NA. The congress was held
between 16 and 22 March 1931.
50
an Islamo-socialist organization to becoming an Islamic party com-

mitted to pan-Islamism. The PSII executive committee now added
a new first article titled ‘unity in the Islamic community’ (persatoean
dalam oemmat Islam), which stated that the unity of Indonesian Mus-
lims was ‘a step towards the unity of the Islamic community across
the world’. This goal was more important – at least as a matter of
principle – than ‘national freedom’, which became the second
article of the party’s ‘foundation statement’ (keterangan asas). This
concept, that Indonesian Muslims’ unity was a stage in the develop-
ment of a worldwide unity of the ummah, was then repeated in the
first and second articles of the constitution, titled persatoean perger-
akan dan organisatie (‘unity of the movement and organization’)
and toedjoean (‘aims’), respectively.14
In harmony with such a redefinition of aims and strategies, in
March 1931 Tjokroaminoto opened the party’s 17th congress with
a quote from the leading member of the British Indies’ Khila-
fat movement, Maulana Muhammad Ali: ‘It is a wrong concep-
tion of religion that you have, if you exclude politics from it; it is
not [just] dogma, it is not [just] ritual.’ While this congress was
strongly oriented towards the state of Muslims abroad, particu-
larly the Berbers of Morocco and the Palestinians, it also sought
and received affirmation of the Indies’ position on the global map
of Islam, as Tjokroaminoto received a telegram from the Mufti of
Jerusalem, Sayed Amin al-Husayni, that discussed the situation in
Palestine and, more significantly, condemned Soekarno’s PNI for
its secularism.15
A couple of months later, Tjokroaminoto began to promote
the creation of a permanent al-Islam Committee, to be based in
Surabaya under the leadership of Wondoamiseno. The commit-
tee’s broader aim was to advocate and promote pan-Islamism via
local publications, like the new magazine al-Djihad, and building
an Islamic Union (Islam-bond) together with foreign organizations,
such as the British-Indian Muslim Association. This committee was
also charged with tackling the anti-Islamic feelings that had sur-
faced in secular circles.16
14 ‘Persatoean oemmat Islam se-doenia’, Fadjar Asia, 21 January 1930. The statute was edited
between October 1929 and January 1930.
15 ‘Verslag van het 17de Congres der Partai Sarekat Islam Indonesia’ [1931], AMK: KVG
no. 5, NA.
16 Soetomo’s Persatoean Bangsa Indonesia (Association of the Indonesian Nation) had been
generic in its anti-Islamic propaganda, but the Surabaya Studieclub, for example, had attacked
the pilgrimage to Mecca (belittled vis-à-vis banishment to the Dutch penal colony in Boven
Digul, Papua), and nationalist women groups condemned polygamy. ‘Oprichting “Centraal
Comite al-Islam”’ [1931], AMK GMr, no. 716x, NA.
51
The first al-Islam meeting gathered in Batavia in October 1931,

and the second in Malang in April 1932. Neither of these meet-
ings made any progress in connecting Muslims in the Indies with
the rest of the ummah. However, the committee succeeded in
pulling together political and non-political Islamic groups under
the banner of the Pergerakan al-Islam Indonesia (Indonesian al-
Islam Movement), which reached a total membership of around
4,000 individuals in 1931-32. 17
First established in the 1920s in the aftermath of Mustafa Kemal’s
abolition of the Ottoman Caliphate, the al-Islam committees were
tasked with suggesting ways to bring about a new worldwide Islamic
order. Nevertheless, it would be a mistake to see the significance
of these committees in the 1930s in this same light. Attempts to
recreate a global caliphate had long since been abandoned, and
even in the British Indies, where the Khilafat movement was more
persistent and dedicated, the focus and priorities of the movement
had shifted away from the caliphate and towards nationalism. The
caliphate as the basis of a political platform reappears only in more
recent times, with Kartosuwiryo’s call for a federation of Muslim
nation-states in 1950, and later with Jemaah Islamiyah’s propa-
ganda for a transnational Islamic state in the 2000s.18
The 1930 Yogyakarta congress and the discomfort that emerged
from participation in the PPPKI are representative of the issues at
the core of the party and, more generally, of the debates dominat-
ing this decade. On the one hand, there was opposition to secular
nationalism and commitment to religiously informed politics; on
the other hand, there was the issue of (non-)cooperation. Both had
been central concerns for Kartosuwiryo since his early days as a
journalist, and his growing influence on the executive committee
resulted in Partai Sarekat Islam’s policies being increasingly deter-
mined by his views. Partai Sarekat Islam Indonesia had thus begun
shaping itself along these two projects of Islamic politics and non-
cooperation. However, as political winds in the Indies changed, this
redefinition had to be halted.
17 ‘Vergadering van het al-Islam-comite te Batavia op den 11den October 1931’ [1931], AMK
GMr, no. 939x, NA; and ‘Verslag van het 2e al-Islam congres in de maand April 1931 te Kalang
gehouden’ [1932], AMK GMr, no. 472x, NA. The latter congress was held between 16 and
18 April 1932.
18 Jacob M. Landau, The politics of pan-Islam: Ideology and organisation (Oxford: Oxford Univer-
sity Press, 1994); Formichi, ‘Pan-Islam and religious nationalism’. On the impact of the abolition
of the Ottoman Caliphate in 1924, see Chiara Formichi, ‘Mustafa Kemal’s abrogation of the
Ottoman Caliphate and its impact on the Indonesian nationalist movement’, in al-Rasheed,
Kersten and Shterin (eds), Demystifying the caliphate: Historical memory and contemporary contexts
(London: Hurst Publishers; New York: Columbia University Press, 2012a), pp. 95-115.
52
Within two years of his appointment as Governor General in

1931, the conservative Bonifacius Cornelis de Jonge had dramati-
cally reduced the political space in the Indies, and by 1933 only
openly cooperative organizations and parties were allowed to oper-
ate freely in the political sphere. Sarekat Islam’s 18th congress, held
in Bandung at the end of 1931, was mostly concerned with local
economic and social issues. Salim focused on new press limitations,
Soekiman invoked social legislation, Sangadji complained about
agrarian reforms, and Tjokroaminoto attacked the cultuurstelsel as a
manifestation of ‘capitalism’s baneful influence’.19 This ‘cultivation
system’ had been in place for a century, with the Dutch government
determining what crops Javanese peasants had to produce in order
to ensure the steady supply of tropical products in which the trad-
ing company was interested.20
The Islamic movement and secular nationalism
It is often mentioned that in the 1930s the Islamic movement was

deeply fragmented, having neither a strong leadership nor a clear
strategy, and that these two factors together were crucial to the
decline of PSII’s influence at the national level. The same holds
true also for the secularists.
Following Soekarno’s arrest in December 1929, Sartono – who
had taken up the leadership of the movement – dissolved the PNI
to establish, in 1930, the more accommodating Partindo (Partai
Indonesia, Indonesian Party). This new party did not satisfy all of
the old PNI membership, so in late 1931 the Study Clubs merged
into a ‘new’ PNI, the Pendidikan Nasional Indonesia (PNI Baru,
Indonesian National Education). When Soekarno was released
from prison in December 1931, Soetan Sjahrir and Mohammad
Hatta had already returned from the Netherlands, and Sartono
was holding tight his leadership of Partindo. Their contrasting
approaches resulted in a splintered movement, and the shattering
of Soekarno’s achievements in unifying the movement in the previ-
ous decade.21
19 ‘Verslag van het 18de PSII congres te Bandoeng gehouden sinds December 1931’ [1932]
AMK GMr, no. 518x, NA. The congress was held between 25 and 27 December 1931.
20 For more on the cultuurstelsel, see Cornelis Fasseur, The politics of colonial exploitation: Java,
the Dutch, and the cultivation system (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Southeast Asia Program,
1992).
21 John David Legge, ‘Daulat Ra’jat and the ideas of the Pendidikan Nasional Indonesia’, Indo-
nesia 32 (October, 1981): pp. 151-68.
53
The fragmentation of the nationalist front was not simply a

matter of leadership and power, but, rather more significantly, a
matter of strategy about how to strengthen the movement and
how to relate to the colonial authorities. On the first count, Hatta,
Sjahrir and the new PNI believed in forming highly educated and
intellectualized cadres, whilst Partindo and Soekarno focused on
stirring mass agitation. On the second count, Hatta and Soekarno
differed on the issue of cooperation: in 1929 Hatta announced
that ‘non-cooperation is the only correct weapon’ in the current
colonial relationship between Indonesia and the Netherlands,
and in 1931 he criticized Soekarno for using non-cooperation
only to provoke the masses, but not to educate them about the
ongoing political battle. But by 1932-33 the tables had turned, with
Hatta’s acceptance of the candidacy for the Dutch parliament as
a member of the Onafhankelijke Socialistische Partij (Indepen-
dent Socialist Party). Soekarno declared that ‘non-cooperation
is not only struggle, it is also a principle of that struggle’, thus
accusing Hatta of betrayal for participating in the Dutch parlia-
ment. Yet, when he was arrested again in November 1933, Soek-
arno abandoned Partindo and non-cooperation, an act that Hatta
described as the ‘Soekarnoist tragedy’: ‘it was not yet ten months
since Soekarno had beaten his breast and cried out that non-coop-
eration excluded cooperation with the masters in every field, and
had called for unremitting struggle’22 when he decided instead to
accept the Dutch hand.
The arrest of Soekarno was followed by those of Hatta and Sjah-
rir in February 1934. Soekarno – probably in exchange for soften-
ing his political rhetoric – was sent to Flores, but the more radical
Hatta and Sjahrir were exiled to Digul until the Japanese invasion
of Java and Sumatra in 1942. The colonial government’s treatment
of Soekarno, Hatta and Sjahrir proved to most nationalists that
non-cooperation was no longer politically viable, and thus that they
needed to change strategy.
After Partindo abandoned non-cooperation in December 1934,
nationalist groups tended to be generally ‘cooperationist’, in the
sense that they agreed to participate in the Volksraad to advance
their demands for increased autonomy, as Susan Abeyasekere
22 Hatta’s quote from Indonesia Merdeka, in Greta O. Wilson (ed.), Regents, reformers, and
revolutionaries: Indonesian voices of colonial days (Honolulu: University Press of Hawaii, 1978),
p. 136; Bernhard Dahm, Soekarno and the struggle for Indonesian independence (Ithaca and Lon-
don: Cornell University Press, 1969), Chapter 4. Soekarno’s quote from Dibawah bendera rev-
olusi, in Dahm, Soekarno, p. 161; Hatta’s quote from Daulat Rakjat 30 November 1933, in Dahm,
Soekarno, p. 168.
54
points out. This ‘People’s Council’ had been established in 1917 as

an elected proto-parliament, where Europeans, ‘Foreign Orientals’
and ‘Indigenous’ members could voice ‘independent opinions’.
Because of the electoral policies implemented, however, the coun-
cil was not representative of the indigenous population, nor did it
have any decision-making powers. In 1925 the council was trans-
formed into a semi-legislative body, and in 1929 for the first time
European members were the minority.
One example of the nationalists’ cooperationist tendencies
is Soetomo’s decision to merge his Persatoean Bangsa Indonesia
(Union of the Indonesian People) with Boedi Oetomo to form a
new organization, Partai Indonesia Raja (Parindra, Great Indone-
sia Party). Protected by their immunity, several of the Volksraad
members – especially those belonging to Mohammad Hoesni
Thamrin’s political wing in Parindra – made radical statements,
as they appeared to be coming to terms with their participation
in the councils only so far as doing so was an avenue to inde-
pendence. Yet, their grudging support for the councils did not
translate into their support for gradual reforms. The Soetardjo
petition of 1936 requested a conference to discuss the possibility
of autonomy from the Netherlands. However, not only did the
petition fail to gather the votes of the nationalist movement (as
this proposal had emerged from a moderate and assorted group),
but it was also rejected by the Dutch government in November
1938.23
In December 1936 Partindo dissolved, leaving Parindra as
‘the chief political organization’ until Amir Sjarifuddin’s found-
ing of Gerakan Rakjat Indonesia (Gerindo, Indonesian People’s
Movement) in 1937. Though it represented the left wing of the
nationalist movement and was ‘inherently militant’, Gerindo took
an overall cooperationist attitude,24 thus making Sarekat Islam the
only remaining party practising non-cooperation, a commitment
that came with a high price.
23 Susan Abeyasekere, ‘The Soetardjo petition’, Indonesia 15 (April 1973): pp. 80-108; the peti-
tion was signed by Soetardjo Kartohadikoesoemo (a patih), Ratu Langie (a Christian represen-
tative of the Minahasa Union), Kasimo (the Javanese president of the Political Association of
Indonesian Catholics), Datoek Toemenggoeng (a Minangkabau aristocrat) and two representa-
tives of ethnic minorities, a Chinese and an Arab. Susan Abeyasekere, ‘Partai Indonesia Raja,
1936-42: A study in cooperative nationalism’, Journal of Southeast Asian Studies, 3, 2 (September,
1972): pp. 262-76. Since 1931 the composition of the Volksraad had been half Dutch and half
Indonesian, with one third of its members nominated, and the rest elected from amongst the
civil servants.
24 George McTurnan Kahin, Nationalism and revolution in Indonesia (Ithaca: Cornell Southeast
Asia Program Publications, 2003 [1952]), pp. 95-6.
55
the consequences of non-cooperation
Maintaining its commitment to non-cooperation was no easy task.

For one, it resulted in radical changes in the PSII party leadership.
The first purge occurred in March 1933, when Soekiman – at that
point vice-president of the executive committee – and Surjopranoto
– leading member of the dewan partij – were expelled.25 The official
reason for their expulsion was related to mismanagement of funds,
yet it is not far-fetched to suggest that it was also connected to the
anti-cooperation contingent’s gaining strength. After their forced
exit from PSII, Soekiman and other former party members formed
a new cooperationist party, the Partij Politiek Islam Indonesia (Par-
tii, Indonesian Islamic Political Party), which in 1938 added several
Muhammadiyah members and re-organized as Partai Islam Indone-
sia (PII, Islamic Party of Indonesia).26
In the meantime, PSII continued its double-track policy of pro-
moting non-cooperation and upholding Islamic politics. Under the
guidance of Agoes Salim, for example, it established a commission
to solve the conflict between traditional adat and Islamic law. The
commission suggested the replacement of adat with sharia, with
particular attention to the realm of family law, a motion strongly
backed by Tjokroaminoto at the 1934 congress, just a few months
before his passing.27
Tjokroaminoto’s death left the leadership vacant, and the whole
party in shock. Kartosuwiryo, Salim and Abikoesno now led the
directorate and took charge of the transition.28 Without Tjokroami-
noto, the fragile balance within the leadership could not hold, and
by January 1939 Dutch authorities reported that if PSII members
had lost interest in their party, it was mostly because of a loss of
authority at the leadership level.29
At the Malang congress of July-August 1935, Salim took Tjok-
roaminoto’s place as president of the dewan partij, while Sangadji
sat as chairman of the executive committee. Abikoesno took Soeki-
man’s place as president of the executive committee, and Karto-
suwiryo maintained his position as secretary. The party’s branches
had withered from 140 in 1934 to 90 at the time of the congress,
25 PPO, March 1933, pp. 268-9; Overzicht, 8 April 1933.

26 Rambe, Sarekat Islam, pp. 251-2.
27 ‘PSII congress te Bandjarnegara in 1934’ [1934], AMK GMr, no. 756x, NA. The congress
was held between 20 and 26 May 1934.
28 ‘Maklumat H. Agoes Salim, Abikoesno, dan Kartosowirjo, Ma’lumat No. 33’, Ladjnah Tan-
fidzjah PSII kepada terhormat seluruh Ladjnah Afdeeling PSII, Jakarta, 17 December 1934 in
Amelz, H.O.S. Tjokroaminoto, pp. 146-8.
29 PPO, January 1939, vol. 4, pp. 256-7.
56
even as they still counted a total membership of around 45,000.

The youth, divided between Pemoeda Moeslimin Indonesia and
SIAP, had an overall membership of 5,000, and the women’s sec-
tion had 6,000 members scattered across 34 branches.30
Throughout the year, the latent disagreement between Salim
and Kartosuwiryo on the hijrah policy grew into an open conflict.
Salim asked the executive committee to revise the policy, concerned
that the government would further limit the party’s activities if it
did not assume a more moderate attitude. Salim also asked permis-
sion to re-join the Volksraad, where he had been a member from
1921 to 1924. Nevertheless, the 1936 congress shows that Kartosu-
wiryo’s position, which was seconded by Abikoesno, was not even
questioned by the remainder of the leadership and was instead
actually reinforced as the party’s official policy. The politics of PSII
were rooted in Islam, and non-cooperation was ‘the best way’ to
further the interests of the Islamic community.
Salim was ousted, and by the time the party convened for the
Jakarta congress, the leadership had already been changed. The
dewan partij was presided over by Wondoamiseno and Kartosuwiryo,
who had brought along several members from the West Java branch
to fill positions in the executive committee. Amongst its members
were Latief, Moestafa Kamil, Toha, Kamran, and Joesoef Taoeziri;
Abikoesno was nominated as president and Kartawinata as secre-
tary.31
These changes meant that PSII was not to pursue indepen-
dence by cooperating with the colonial government, as Salim had
recommended, but that it would instead fight for it. In propagan-
dist terms, this reorientation was articulated in the drafting, by
the central party leadership, of a Brosoer sikap hidjrah PSII (‘Pam-
phlet on PSII’s non-cooperation policy’, discussed below). At the
end of the congress, the task of articulating the party’s goal in this
way was handed over to Kartosuwiryo, who had the assignment of
‘clarifying, explaining and giving his opinion’ on the origins of the
party’s non-cooperation policy. In the words of Pandji Islam, which
reviewed the booklet in mid-September, ‘For the Islamic struggle of
Indonesia, there should be more books on political Islam, like this
one, published and distributed among the people of our nation’.32
To Kartosuwiryo this pamphlet represented the political platform
30 ‘Congres van de Partij Sjarikat Islam Indonesia te Malang van 31 Juli tot 4 Augustus 1935’
[1935], AMK GMr, no. 963x, NA.
31 Overzicht, 18 July 1936; Soeara PSII, 25 April 1937. The congress was held in Jakarta between
8 and 12 July 1936.
32 ‘Pertimbangan Boekoe’, Pandji Islam no. 36-37, 15 September 1936, p. 9391.
57
for a new era of the Partai Sarekat Islam Indonesia,33 but for Salim
this marked the end of his career in the party.
Agoes Salim responded to Kartosuwiryo’s brochure with a
series of articles published in the periodical Pergerakan, which in
August of the same year became a pamphlet in its own right.34
In his Pedoman politiek (‘Political directive’), Salim stated that he
was no longer prepared to work within a party that continued to
seek conflict with the colonial government.35 Salim still desired
to return to the Volksraad. After his request to do so had been
rejected by both Kartosuwiryo and the executive committee’s
chairman, Sabirin,36 he felt increasingly marginalized in his coop-
erative efforts, and eventually left the party in 1937. Salim was
followed by Sangadji, Mohammed Roem and Wibisono, amongst
others. On 17 February, they held the first meeting of the Komite
Penjadar PSII (PSII Awareness Committee), which was attended
by some 500 people, including several members of Muhammadi-
yah, Persis and PMI.37
At the Bandung congress of 1937, Kartosuwiryo and Wondo-
amiseno were still advocating the hijrah policy as a political and eco-
nomic strategy, although throughout the year at least 21 branches
had made known their discontentment with this approach, with
some even moving their allegiance to Salim’s Komite Penjadar.38 It
was reported that at Bandung, out of a total of 131 PSII branches,
only 70 participated, and that of the party’s 40,000 members, at
least 200 had moved to the Penjadar faction.39 Although this was
quite a rescaling of PSII’s attendance, comparing these numbers to
secular nationalist followers shows that Sarekat Islam still garnered
much broader support.40
33 Kartosuwiryo, Sikap hidjrah PSII, Introduction.

34 ‘De PSII brochures “Hidjrah”’ [1937], AMK GMr, no. 101x, NA.
35 Overzicht, 22 August 1936.
36 Overzicht, 11 January 1937.
37 ‘Vergadering van het “Comite Penjadar Barisan PSII” te Batavia op Februari 1937’ [1937],
AMK GMr, no. 227x, NA.
38 Overzicht, 30 January 1937. The 21 branches were: Batavia, Bandung, Kebarongan, Sidareja,
Cilacap, Banyuwangi, Serono, Tempeh, Probolinggo, Pasuruan, Malang, Bululawang, Surabaya,
Babat, Ngronggot, Paree, Kota Bumi (Sumatra), Biaro (women’s wing), Bukittinggi, Dangung-
Dangung (women’s wing), and Surau Pinang Biaro. In early January the provincial congress
of Sulawesi, in Gorontalo, had issued a press release voicing its disappointment over the hijrah
policy. See also PPO April-October 1937.
39 ‘Congres PSII te Bandoeng Juli 1937’ [1937], AMK GMr, no. 703x, NA. The 23rd congress
was held between 19 and 23 July.
40 In mid 1933 Partindo counted around 20,000 members, and at the same time the new PNI
barely had 1,000 members. The old PNI, at the height of its popularity, gathered 10,000 support-
ers. Parindra, instead, jumped from 3,200 in 1936 to 19,500 in 1941.
58
At Bandung, Kartosuwiryo focused on two of the issues

of major concern for the Islamic party: the new limitations
imposed on the authority of the religious courts, and the hijrah
policy. These limitations were seen as yet another means to con-
trol the indigenous population and their religious affairs, as
they revoked the relative autonomy granted to Islamic courts
since 1882 in family- and inheritance-related matters. With the
support of Muhammadiyah, Nahdatul Ulama and Persis, PSII
passed two motions against the new regulations, recommend-
ing the establishment of a temporary majelis ulama (assembly of
scholars) to settle conflicts arising from inheritance problems
and a majelis syari’ (sharia assembly) to officiate at weddings.
More importantly, the motion prohibited PSII members from
making use of the Landraad, the colonial civil courts set up for
indigenous Indonesians.
Anticipating the subject of his speech for the 1938 Majelis Islam
A’la Indonesia congress, at Bandung Kartosuwiryo questioned the
appropriateness of the government’s intervention in religious mat-
ters, as he believed religious affairs should be self-regulated by the
Muslim population. Kartosuwiryo also blamed the community for
referring to the colonial authorities rather than to local leaders
when seeking solutions to their daily problems.41 In this system,
inheritance-related matters were reassigned from Islamic courts to
the Landraad, and all of the former’s decisions had to be approved
by the latter’s president. Kartosuwiryo, voicing his disapproval of
this system, returned to these issues at the first MIAI al-Islam con-
gress, held in February 1938. This federation of Islamic organiza-
tions, modernist and traditionalist alike, had been established in
September 1937 with the aim of forming an Indonesian parliament
based on Islamic legislation,42 possibly as a reaction to the Soetardjo
petition of 1936.
Using his vigorous oratorical skills, Kartosuwiryo, representing
PSII, tackled the problem of implementing Islamic law from two
sides: on the one hand, he blamed the Indonesian ummah for not
following Qur’anic precepts, and on the other hand, he accused
the Dutch of not abiding by their pledge to maintain religious
neutrality and to grant freedom of religious expression. This
41 ‘Congres P(artij) S(jarikat) I(slam) I(ndonesia) te Bandoeng, Juli 1937’ [1937], AMK GMr,
no. 830x, NA.
42 ‘Letter of Ladjnah Tanfidzijah Partij Sjarikat Islam Indonesia Batavia-Centrum 2044/L.W.
Sidang Congres Majelis-Islam-A’laa-Indonesia di Soerabaja, LT-PSII [executive committee] Vice-
President S. Latif and 2nd Secretaris H.Tjokroaminoto’ [1938], Archief van de Procureur-Gen-
eraal [hereafter APG], no. 1007, NA. On MIAI see Overzicht, 9 December 1939.
59
was an easy opening for Kartosuwiryo to stress the importance

of harmonizing political and judiciary systems. The sole solution
to ensure full adherence to Islam, he argued, was a satisfactory
implementation of Islamic law, which by itself would only be pos-
sible through the combination of religious judges (hakim) and
religious authority (such as the wali-al-amr, amir-ul-mu’minin or ulil
amri).43
Once the conflict with Salim had been settled by his withdrawal
from the party, the hijrah remained the key point on PSII’s agenda,
but also something that Kartosuwiryo felt compelled to clarify and
justify at every given occasion. In Bandung he reiterated its ‘mul-
tidimensionality’ as a socio-economic as much as a religious and
political effort. To further reinforce the membership’s conscious-
ness of its value, the party established an Oesaha hidjrah committee
with Kartosuwiryo as chairman, which was tasked with the compila-
tion of the Daftar oesaha hidjrah, a pamphlet that was finally released
in 1940,44 even though a first draft had already been approved at
the Surabaya congress in 1938.
the brosoer sikap hidjrah psii and daftar oesaha hidjrah
In the Brosoer sikap hidjrah PSII and Daftar oesaha hidjrah pamphlets,
Kartosuwiryo focused at length on the origins and aims of the non-
cooperation policy. He first identified its roots in Tjokroaminoto’s
decision to withdraw from the Volksraad in 1923, and then labelled
all subsequent attempts to join any colonial representative body
or to cooperate with the Dutch as manifestations of an ‘accommo-
dationist’ approach; he referred explicitly to Salim and Soekarno.
Notably there was no reference to the Indian Khilafat’s movement
constitution, drafted in 1919.
As a figurative migration from the ‘Indonesian Mecca to the
Indonesian Medina’, the hijrah marked the transition from a
regime of adat to a religious ideological framework articulated
43 ‘Preadvies tentang Raad Agama dan Mahkamat Islam Tinggi, berhoeboeng dengan pemin-
dahan hak-waris dari Raad Agama kepada Landraad, dihidangkan pada Al-Islam-Kongres jang
ke-10 di Soerabaja, pada tg. 28 Februari menghadap 1 Maart 1938’ [1938], APG no. 1007, NA.
44 Kartosuwiryo, Daftar-oesaha hidjrah PSII bagian muqaddima (Malangbong (SS W/L)) (Java:
Poestaka Dar-oel-Islam, March 1940) in Al Chaidar, Pemikiran politik proklamator negara Islam Indo-
nesia S.M. Kartosoewirjo: fakta dan data sejarah Darul Islam (Jakarta: Darul Falah, 1999), pp. 461-76.
‘Pertimbangan Boekoe’, Pandji Islam no. 36-37, 15 September 1936, p. 9391, indicates Daroel
Oeloem as the publisher.
60
as the darul Islam, an ideal Islamic state.45 This transition was a

priority in the party’s political platform, and could only be made
possible as a result of jihad. To realize the pan-Islamic project
was as important as the Islamization of Indonesian politics (as
opposed to its Westernization), the education of Indonesian
Muslims or the establishment of contacts with other Muslim
communities outside of the archipelago. Ultimately, Kartosu-
wiryo declared that PSII was neither communist nor fascist and
inspired by neither Arabism nor ‘Indonesianism’, as its founda-
tion was only Islam.46
The Sikap hidjrah pamphlet, arranged in two parts, was pub-
lished under Kartosuwiryo’s signature in September 1936 following
deliberations by the Party’s 22nd Majelis Tahkim. The Sikap hidjrah
was conceived as a new manual for all members of the party, who
had the duty to understand and implement the ‘Supreme Direc-
tives’ of the party’s non-cooperation. Abikoesno and Kartawinata
admitted that its content might have sounded like ‘new stuff’ to
readers, yet they nevertheless were confident that it would rapidly
become an exemplary model for Islamic politics. The pamphlet
aimed at illustrating the religious foundations of the party’s non-
cooperation policy by focusing on the theology and history of the
Prophet’s migration as much as on its political implications. How-
ever, Dutch officials saw the pamphlet in isolation from its context,
claiming it was purely the outcome of Muslims’ unwillingness to
cooperate with kafir (infidel) rule.47
The first part of the pamphlet is mostly concerned with laying
the historical and theological foundations for the second part. It
begins with the events surrounding Muhammad’s migration from
Mecca to Medina in 622, before considering the following eight
years of his leadership, the structure of the first Islamic institutions
in Medina and the political outlook of this first ‘Islamic state’.
Throughout most of the first part, the discussion does not stray
from standard theological teachings. However, at the end of each
section, Kartosuwiryo skilfully connects these principles to PSII’s
politics. In explaining the relations between the Creator and His
creatures (khalik and makhluk), for example, Kartosuwiryo argues
that it is because of this strong and enduring relation that Islam
45 Here, ‘dar al-Islam’ and ‘dar-ul-Islam’ refer to the principle of ‘house of peace’, or ‘territory
of Islam’, its spelling depending on the source; ‘darul Islam’ refers to the ideal of an Islamic state
in Indonesia. ‘Darul Islam’, in capital letters and set in roman, refers to Kartosuwiryo’s group.
46 ‘PSII congres 1938 te Soerabaja’ [1939], AMK GMr, no. 1170x, NA. The congress was held
between 30 July and 7 August 1938.
47 ‘De PSII Brochures ‘Hidjrah’’ [1937] AMK GMr no. 101x, NA.
61
offers directions in all aspects of life: both in this world and in the
afterlife, to individuals as well as communities, one nation and the
whole of humanity, for glory in this world and happiness in the
next. In short, all the rules needed for internal and external con-
duct can be found in Islam, from the smallest to the biggest.
In this way, the Qur’an and the Prophet are portrayed as the mod-
els of behaviour in social and economic life.
As humans can be divided into three categories depending on
their proximity to God, so can the history of PSII be organized in
this same way: first, the party had a ‘materialistic’ existence (hidup
hissy)48 from its establishment in 1912 until the Madiun congress
of 1923. Then, the expulsion of communist members had ensured
a deeper concern for the afterlife (hidup ma’nawy). But it was not
until the 1930 congress in Yogyakarta that the PSII shifted its focus
from ‘pure action’ to ‘belief’. The party had subsequently pro-
moted the further elevation of the party to a life freed of material
concerns and in perfect harmony with Islam (hidup ma’any).
The main engine behind this shift – from focusing on a material-
istic existence to rooting itself in pure belief – is identified in mem-
bers’ adherence to Islamic precepts, fear of God, faith in Allah and
His One-ness, and complete surrender (tawakkal Allah). This sur-
render, however, must not translate into inertia, but rather should
result in isti’anah (the act of seeking help) and istiqamah (knowl-
edge that help will come from God), thus instigating istitha’a, or
the power and willingness to act. In political terms, this meant that
party members would abide by God’s laws, involving themselves in
the anti-colonial struggle and believing in the sole efficacy of not
cooperating with the Dutch.
As Muhammad and his followers had left Mecca and migrated
to ensure the supremacy of justice over evil, and of monotheism
over polytheism, so Partai Sarekat Islam Indonesia had to seek hap-
piness (falah) and victory (fatah) by pursuing its own hijrah and
starting a new era. It is on these reflections that part two of the
pamphlet is opened, explaining how in this context Mecca is not
a dot on the map of the Middle East, but instead represents the
metaphorical situation of oppression and ignorance that can be
found in every kampong and country of the world, and thus a situa-
tion that needs to be (figuratively) abandoned in favour of Medina-
48 The Islamic term hissy can also be translated as ‘sensationalist’ or ‘sensuous’. However, as
here it is opposed to lives inspired by deep concern for the afterlife or lives conducted in full
harmony with Islam, I chose to translate the term as ‘materialistic’, suggesting a life grounded
in worldly matters and goals.
62
Indonesia, where the law of God rules and the ummah is happy and
victorious.
Where the second part surpasses the first is in its focus on PSII’s
strategies and aims. Above all, the hijrah to Medina-Indonesia – and
hence to an Islamic state – is marked by three steps: jihad, iman
(faith) and tauhid (unity). This path is well trodden, as it places Kar-
tosuwiryo in an intellectual and strategic tradition that connects al-
Ghazali (1058-1111), Ibn Taymiyyah (1263-1328), Hasan al-Banna
(1906-49), Abu ‘Ala Maududi (1903-79), Sayyed Qutb (1906-66)
and contemporary Islamist militants.49 As mentioned in the Pref-
ace, I see Kartosuwiryo’s radicalization as a development strictly
correlated with domestic political and social dynamics. However,
it would be erroneous to consider developments in Indonesia in
isolation from events occurring in the Middle East. I will explore
this point further in the next section.
Kartosuwiryo dedicates several pages to explaining the mean-
ing of jihad, iman and tauhid, making generous use of Qur’anic
quotations and bringing forward their practical implications for
the political struggle. Having established that in the Qur’an there
is no hijrah without jihad, Kartosuwiryo is careful to explain that
the ‘positive’ struggle is the jihad of the tongue and the heart (the
jihad al-akbar, led by iman), and not that of the sword – the jihad
al-asghar, defined instead as negative and destructive. The Program
djihad partij, or ‘programme of action’, issued by the Yogyakarta
congress in 1930, should therefore be understood as a ‘progamme
of the greater jihad’.
Reconnecting with the earlier discussion of the relation between
God and His creatures, Kartosuwiryo blames the West for severing
the ties linking religious duties to believers’ daily activities, thereby
breaking the unity of religion and politics (agama dan kerajaan)
and shifting the hijrah unto the realm of ‘ibada (worship). Never-
theless, Kartosuwiryo emphasizes that the jihad ubudiyah, based
on faith in unity, has to be complemented by the jihad ijtima’iyah
which embodies the social, economic and political dimensions of
hijrah and jihad, and represents the foundation of PSII. Politically
it calls for Islamic politics; economically, for cooperatives and self-
reliance (for which Kartosuwiryo uses the Indian term swadeshi);
and socially, for the benefit of public interest (maslaha).
The last section of the pamphlet is fully dedicated to the party’s
agenda, which is summarized as ‘achieving the implementation of
the laws of God, on the way of God, because of God’. In essence,
49 John L. Esposito, Un-holy war: Terror in the name of Islam (Oxford: Oxford University Press,
2002), pp. 49-64.
63
this agenda was the implementation of sharia law and the creation
of a society in which it was possible for all Muslims to conduct fully
Islamic lives.
What had been generally defined as ‘Islamic politics’ was
expounded in three clear points: the propagation of Islamically
interpreted knowledge and politics amongst PSII members in par-
ticular and amongst Muslims in general; the establishment of rela-
tions with Muslims across the world to work towards the realization
of pan-Islamism as the unity of the Islamic ummah; and the dissocia-
tion of PSII actions from colonial bodies and policies.
The Daftar oesaha hidjrah, printed in 1940, complemented the
Sikap hidjrah by illustrating the anticipated Program djihad partij.
This short pamphlet laid out the necessary steps for the transfor-
mation from ‘Mecca-Indonesia’ to ‘Medina-Indonesia’, a goal
that could only be achieved through jihad. Weaving together the
threads laid out in the past decade, Kartosuwiryo argued that PSII
should direct its efforts towards improving the status of the Indo-
nesian population (meaning the natives) by expanding the reach
of the dar-ul-Islam and thus widening the constituency of the Mus-
lim society. Loyal only to God, and thus dedicated to the imple-
mentation of sharia on an individual (shakhsiyah) as well as a social
(ijtima’iyah) level, the party and the members of this Islamic society
were committed to pursuing pan-Islamism – here also referred to as
‘the unity of Islam and oneness of God’ (al-ittihad-oel-Islam dan wah-
danijat Allah)50 beyond the borders of the Indonesian archipelago,
implementing sharia law, and reuniting agama dan dunia (religion
and government), the link between which had been severed by
Western colonial domination.51
reflecting on the ‘middle east’ factor
In the previous chapter, I mentioned that the connections between

the Middle East and Southeast Asia were kept alive by the circula-
tion of pilgrims, students and printed material, which stimulated a
vibrant exchange of ideas across these regions. I also showed that
debates within Sarekat Islam often touched upon issues involving
the wider Muslim world. As far as Kartosuwiryo himself is con-
50 Arabic grammar dictates that the article of the first noun is dropped when followed by a
second qualifying noun. The mistake (al-ittihad-oel-Islam instead of ittihad-oel-Islam or al-ittihad-
oel-Islamiyah) might indicate a low level of familiarity with Arabic, or even an over-correction.
51 Kartosuwiryo, Daftar-oesaha.
64
cerned, there is not much evidence of direct contact with Middle

Eastern modernists or activists. However, there is enough evidence
to suggest a degree of influence that goes beyond ‘parallel devel-
opment’, as instead argued by Howard Federspiel in the case of
Persis leader Ahmad Hassan and Hasan al-Banna, for example.52
In this section, I do not suggest any causality or a direct reproduc-
tion of Middle Eastern patterns in Indonesia, but simply wish to
highlight instances in which foreign developments were brought to
bear upon Kartosuwiryo’s ideas since the late 1920s.
It is worth noting that C.A.O. van Nieuwenhuijze, in his Aspects
of Islam in post-colonial Indonesia, mentioned that whilst he was in
Egypt at a meeting with Muslim Brotherhood leaders, in 1950 he
was questioned on the Darul Islam movement of West Java. Van
Nieuwenhuijze defined their enquiries as an interest
supported by a good deal of rather detailed information, it seemed.

In fact, would it not be surprising if no relations existed between
movements, each so well settled – even though not legally – in its
own society?53
In more abstract terms, Boland also suggested possible influences

from the Muslim Brotherhood and Abu Ala Mawdudi on the Darul
Islam.54
I could find no indication of Mawdudi’s influence on Kartosu-
wiryo. However, some evidence of direct contact between Hasan
al-Banna’s group and the Indonesian community in Cairo can be
found in the existence of the post-independence group named,
in Arabic, Lajnatul-Difa’i’an Indonesia (Committee for the
Defence of Indonesia, in Indonesian: Panitia Pembela Indonesia).
It appears that Hasan al-Banna participated in its establishment,
together with other Brotherhood leaders and the Palestinian
leader Muhammad Ali Taher in October 1945. Further, when in
April 1946 the Indonesian Republic’s delegation visited Cairo, the
delegates were received by al-Banna and dozens of Brotherhood
members.55
52 Howard M. Federspiel, Islam and ideology in the emerging Indonesian state: The Persatuan Islam
(Persis), 1923-1957 (Leiden: Brill, 2001), p. 121.
53 C.A.O. van Nieuwenhuijze, Aspects of Islam in post-colonial Indonesia: Five essays (The Hague/
Bandung: Van Hoeve, 1958), p. xi.
54 B.J. Boland, The struggle of Islam in modern Indonesia (The Hague: Nijhoff, 1982), p. 147.
55 Rizki Ridyasmara, ‘Yang pertama kali mendukung kemerdekaan Republik Indonesia 1945’,
Majalah Saksi 4-21 (18 August 2004), http://hensyam.wordpress.com/2006/08/18/yang-per-
tama-kali-mendukung-kemerdekaan-republik-indonesia-1945 (accessed 5 May 2009).
65
The military publication Penumpasan pemberontakan D.I./T.I.I.,

S.M. Kartosuwiryo di Jawa Barat, itself a collection of Darul Islam
documents’ reproductions, as well as accounts produced after Kar-
tosuwiryo’s capture, report that in the 1950s Kartosuwiryo’s inten-
tion was to first consolidate his authority on the archipelago, and
then to build relations on the international level with Malaysia,
Pakistan and Egypt. Once linked with movements like the Muslim
Brotherhood, the Indonesian Islamic state would have been able to
establish a pan-Islamic dewan Khalifatullah fil’ardi (Council of God’s
Caliphate on Earth), which would assume a federal structure with a
rotating leadership of two-year terms.56
Finally, I would like to add some reflections on Kartosuwiryo’s
use of one specific term, sji’ar Islam, between 1929 and the mid
1940s. As explained below, this has a wide range of meanings.
Although at first glance ‘Nasib ra’iat Tjitjoeroek’ (published in
Fadjar Asia on 11 May 1929) might seem no different from other
articles in which Kartosuwiryo invoked Islam as the solution to all
social problems, it is worth noting that he uses the word sji’ar. In
traditional fiqh (jurisprudence), this term was used to define the
mark of sacrificial animals, pilgrimage ‘stations’, and sumptuary
laws. Though the use of this word has been increasingly common
in Islamist circles since the 1970s, it had not been present in the
Indonesian context in the preceding decades, leading scholars to
believe that it had been introduced only during the Islamic revival
period. I have, however, encountered the term on several occa-
sions, from this 1929 article to the Sikap hidjrah pamphlet, and the
Soeara MIAI magazine during the Japanese occupation. In its con-
temporary usage and in Kartosuwiryo’s understanding, the term
indicates a complete implementation of Islamic precepts, equat-
ing the expression Islam kaffah. What is most relevant to this study
is that it appears that Egypt’s Muslim Brotherhood was using this
sense of the term sji’ar Islam in their early days.57
kartosuwiryo’s weakening support and withdrawal

from politics
Between 1937 and 1938, no significant shrinking of the party’s con-

stituency was recorded, and at the Surabaya congress of 1938 Karto-
56 Dinas Sejarah TNI, Penumpasan pemberontakan, pp. 80-1.

57 For the above information on sji’ar Islam I am indebted to Michael Feener, who is research-
ing this subject.
66
suwiryo was still vice-president of the board. Yet, just one year later,
he would be expelled from the party, mostly as a result of his non-
cooperationist approach. Kartosuwiryo’s conflict with other party
leaders was aggravated by the clash of his hijrah policy with Abikoes-
no’s decision, in early 1938, to join Soetomo in forming the Gabo-
engan Politik Indonesia (GAPI, Indonesian Political Federation).58
The GAPI embraced ‘cooperative nationalism’, and set itself
the task of creating a united national front. As nationalist lead-
ers’ requests for self-government were becoming entangled with
developments in Europe, GAPI agreed to cooperate with the
colonial authority on two levels: internationally it would help to
fight Fascism, and nationally it would contribute to establishing a
democratically elected Indonesian parliament (the movement was
commonly referred to as Indonesia ber-parlemen).59 But Germany’s
occupation of Holland in August 1940 resulted, insofar as the
Indies were concerned, in the Dutch government having a strong
reason to stall any structural reform until the end of the war. This
uncommitted approach to Indonesia’s independence was further
stressed in Queen Wilhelmina’s London speech in May 1941, in
which she promised to revisit the relations between Indonesia and
the Netherlands after the war, but gave no indication that indepen-
dence as such would be discussed.60
At the same time as relations between Kartosuwiryo and the
leaders of other Indonesian parties were worsening on account
of their disagreement on the issue of cooperation, the central
board of PSII came under the impression that Kartosuwiryo had
pursued a wide campaign to propagate mystical teachings. Mem-
bers of the executive committee argued that Kartosuwiryo’s Sikap
hidjrah pamphlet contained the building blocks of a Sufi tarekat,
which they saw in full opposition to the principles of PSII in par-
ticular, and of Islam in general. It was suspected that these teach-
ings had spread across the region, and mass expulsions were led
in Garut and beyond.61 The party’s leadership became concerned
58 The first organizational meeting was held in March 1938 and was led by Abikoesno and
Soetomo. However, as Soetomo died in May 1938, the leadership shifted to Thamrin. The first
gathering of GAPI was held in May 1939, and it was joined by Parindra, Pasoendan, Gerindo,
PSII, PII and several other smaller parties.
59 ‘Actie in Nederlandsch-Indië voor een volwaardig parlement’ [1939], AMK GMr, no. 101x,
NA.
60 Susan Abeyasekere, One hand clapping: Indonesian nationalists and the Dutch, 1939-1942.
Monash Papers on Southeast Asia 5 (Clayton, Australia: Centre of Southeast Asian Studies,
Monash University).
61 PPO, January 1939, p. 257. None of the sources explain which elements of the Sikap hidjrah
pamphlet indicated an alignment with the tarekat movement, and I could not detect any such
indications from my reading of the text.
67
that the interests of Sarekat Islam had been compromised, and

as Kartosuwiryo refused to stop the re-printing of the brochure,
he was eventually expelled too.62 A later issue of the Overzicht sug-
gested that in addition to the conflict over the non-cooperation
policy, there was also a theological one on the nature (sifat) of
the Qur’an. This statement is, however, left unexplored by the
sources.63
Kartosuwiryo was not the only victim of this purge: several
other leading figures, together with the entire memberships of
the Malangbong and Tejamaya (Tasikmalaya region) branches64
and of eight other branches (including some in Central Java),
incurred the same fate.65 In late January 1940 Wondoamiseno
declared that the party had ‘long since abandoned the non-coop-
eration policy’ and had changed its strategy from hijrah to tauhid,
joining in the wider cooperative effort to establish an Indonesian
parliament.66
Kartosuwiryo’s activities between mid 1939 and early 1940 are
unknown, but the suggestion that he had established a new party
– a third PSII splinter group – was first aired at the 1939 PSII con-
gress and later publicized by several newspapers between late Janu-
ary and early February.67 A more detailed account appeared later
in April in a report by Statius Muller, Adviseur voor Inlandse Zaken,
explaining how after a few months of inactivity – or, more likely, of
preparation – on 24 March 1940 Kartosuwiryo had formed a new
party headquartered in Malangbong.
The Komite Pertahanan Kebenaran-PSII (KPK-PSII, Commit-
tee for the Defence of the Truth-PSII) was labelled by the Dutch a
sect rather than a party, and was supported by around 1,500 mem-
bers originating from 21 different PSII branches, including
those in Padang Panjang (West Sumatra) and Manado (North
Sulawesi).68 The Malangbong branch, at the centre of this new
splinter party, held a public meeting to discuss the decision of
the Palembang congress to expel Kartosuwiryo in May 1940. They
decided, first, that the central board’s expulsion was against the
62 Overzicht, 17 June 1939.

63 Overzicht, 3 February 1940.
64 PPO, January 1939, p. 257.
65 Overzicht, 17 June 1939.
66 Overzicht, 3 February 1940.
67 These were Pewarta Deli (25 January), Sinar Sumatra (26 January), Pertja Selatan (27 Janu-
ary) and Penjebar Semangat (3 February) – all mentioned in Overzicht, 10 February 1940 – and
Overzicht, 3 February 1940.
68 ‘Oprichting van een nieuwe politiek-godsdienstiege [sic.] partij door het KPK-PSII’ [1940],
AMK GMr, no. 529x, NA.
68
party’s principles, and second, that the KPK-PSII would autono-

mously continue to work along PSII lines, even keeping the same
flag and name.69 The Daftar oesaha hidjrah (discussed above) was
printed in March 1940 by Kartosuwiryo in Malangbong, and thus
the absence of any comments in the pamphlet on the split could
be read as a marker of this desire for continuity or, even, as a
manifestation of self-perceived authenticity and commitment to
the true PSII aims.
In his report, Statius Muller also made a note about an educa-
tional institution, the Soeffah. Through the development of intel-
lectual capacities and character building, members of the Soeffah
were seen as forming the core of an ‘Islamically perfect’ society.
While this was the same aim that Kartosuwiryo had set for the Bata-
vian Taman Marsoedi Kasoesastran in 1929, what he intended to
do in his enterprise in Malangbong by referring to it as a Soeffah
was to reconnect his efforts with Muhammad’s dual role as politi-
cal leader and teacher. In Medina, the Prophet used to expound
Islamic teachings in a sheltered corner of the mosque (in Arabic
called suffah), which at night also functioned as makeshift home for
the newly arrived migrants, the muhajirin.70
To Kartosuwiryo the prophetic suffah represented the place
where syariat Islam – the way of Islam – was taught in Medina
and where the muballighin practiced their teaching skills.71 In
the memories of one of his associates, life in this institution was
conducted in complete fulfilment of the Qur’an and the sunnah
of the Prophet. According to one of Kartosuwiryo’s grandsons,
whose house today still faces the lot where the Soeffah once stood,
this was a place where around one hundred religious teachers
were trained at any given time in what was still considered Tjok-
roaminoto’s political strategy for achieving independence: per-
siapan, kemerdekaan, Negara Islam (preparation, independence,
Islamic state).72
It is difficult to date the end of the KPK-PSII and the Soeffah.
According to the Overzicht, Kartosuwiryo’s PSII splinter group was
still active in mid January 194273 and a Dutch military report from
January 1948 mentions that Kartosuwiryo’s Soeffah was active
69 PPO, May-June 1940, p. 341.

70 An alternative explanation could be in reference to the Ikhwān as-Saffā; I am grateful to
Michael Laffan for pointing this out to me.
71 Kartosuwiryo, Sikap hidjrah PSII, IV/5 and V/3.
72 Interviews conducted by the author in Bandung, 16 January 2008, and in Malangbong,
6 February 2008.
73 Overzicht, 17 January 1942.
69
before the military campaign of July 1947.74 Oral sources provided

inconsistent information, as one stated that the Japanese bombed
its mosque, school and houses soon after the invasion, whilst
another remembered that the destruction of the Soeffah occurred
at the hands of the Dutch in 1947, thus triggering Kartosuwiryo to
move to Ciamis.75
new regime, new approach: dai nippon and islamic politics
The Japanese landing on Sumatra in February 1942 and their inva-

sion of Java the following month occurred at a time when relations
between colony and motherland were strained, as exemplified in
August 1941 by the Indonesian nationalists’ boycott of the bill on
native militias. The Dutch authorities in Java and Sumatra quickly
surrendered to the new occupier, which meant that significant
changes had to be made to ensure the survival, if not the success, of
the nationalists’ aspirations to independence.
Exiled nationalist leaders returned to the centre of the strug-
gle, boundaries between cooperationists and non-cooperationists
shifted, and the Japanese-led mobilization of the Indonesian popu-
lation all had consequences for the nationalist movement. Though
at first Japan had promoted the religious wing of the nationalist
movement, by the time Japan capitulated, Soekarno and the secu-
larists had gained the upper hand.
As short-lived as it was, the Japanese occupation was a forma-
tive experience for the Indonesian political leadership, as it gave
a structure to what until then had been just hopes, dreams and
visions of an independent state. Even more significantly, in the
beginning it strengthened politicized Muslims’ expectations for an
Islamic state.76 Japan sought to gather support for its anti-Western
Greater Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere by appealing to the anti-colonial
movement and the Islamic nationalists, and it is in this framework
that Japan had propagandized its support for Islam and its victories
against European powers for decades.
74 ‘Overzicht en ontwikkeling van de toestand 1 Jan 1800 uur tot 5 Jan. 1800 uur’, Territorial
ts. Troepencommandant West Java [1948], Ministerie van Defensie [hereafter MD]: Archieven
Strijdkrachten in Nederlands-Indië [hereafter AS], no. 2224, NA.
75 Interviews conducted by the author in Malangbong, 6 February 2008, and in Jakarta, 7 Feb-
ruary 2008.
76 The importance of the Japanese invasion and occupation of Southeast Asia has been
explored by Harry Jindrich Benda, ‘The structure of Southeast Asian history: Some preliminary
observations’, Journal of Southeast Asian History 3 (1962).
70
Japan also reversed the Dutch attitude of ‘regarding Indonesian

politics as a troublesome irritation’,77 and along with re-organizing
the bureaucratic apparatus at the local and national levels, it pro-
ceeded to substitute all existing political parties with broader mass
organizations. These two trajectories led, first, to the unintentional
politicization of the rural population, as traditional structures of
power were replaced by new organizations whose leadership was
entrusted to physically strong, administratively able and highly
cooperative youth.78 Second, it provided urban Indonesians with
ready-made mass organizations, thus facilitating the formation of
an Indonesian national identity beyond the regional and ideologi-
cal lines that had characterized the anti-colonial movement since
the 1910s.
The first such organization was the Gerakan Tiga A, which
hailed Japan as leader, protector and light of Asia. The group
was established within weeks from the Japanese arrival, as early
as April 1942. As all pre-invasion organizations and parties had
been abolished, the Triple A Movement was to include members
of both nationalist parties and government officials without dis-
tinction. The first sign that Japan was not going to sideline, but
instead would emphasize, the role of the Muslim leadership was
the formation of an Islamic sub-division of the Triple A Movement,
the Persiapan Persatoean Oemmat Islam (Preparation of the Uni-
fication of the Islamic Community), entrusted to Abikoesno in
July 1942.79
Japan’s arrival in March had been welcomed by all
constitutencies,80 and the Islamic leadership was particularly enthu-
siastic. Their enthusiasm was demonstrated, for example, by Won-
doamiseno’s comment in August 1942 that the Japanese arrival
was an event to be thankful to God for, as ‘the brave sacrifice of
the Dai Nippon’ had freed the Indonesian people of 340 years of
Dutch colonization and ‘had lifted it from the mud of subjugation
and humiliation […]; now there is no more ethnic differentiation,
77 M.A. Aziz, Japan’s colonialism and Indonesia (The Hague: Martinus Nijhoff, 1955); Benda, The
crescent and the rising sun. For additional details on the bureaucratic transition, see Shigeru Sato,
War, nationalism, and peasants: Java under the Japanese occupation, 1942-1945, Asian Studies Asso-
ciation of Australia (St. Leonard’s, Australia: Allen & Unwin, 1994), pp. 22-45; on mobilisation,
see Sato, War, nationalism, and peasants, pp. 36-59 and Benedict R.O’G. Anderson, Java in a time
of revolution: Occupation and resistance, 1944-1946 (Ithaca, NY/London: Cornell University Press,
1972), pp. 16-34; quote from Anderson, Java in a time of revolution, p. 31.
78 Kurasawa Aiko, ‘Japanese occupation and leadership changes in Javanese villages’, in Jur-
rien van Goor (ed), The Indonesian Revolution: papers of the conference held in Utrecht, 17-20 June
1986 (Utrecht: Rijksuniversiteit Instituut voor Geschiedenis, 1986), pp. 57-78.
79 Benda, The crescent and the rising sun, pp. 112-4.
80 Aziz, Japan’s colonialism, pp. 147, 149, 173.
71
everyone is equal, and this is the blessing of the leadership and

protection of our brother Japan’.
Wondoamiseno also suggested to the party’s local leaders
in Sulawesi that they follow the Japanese request to dissolve
the party, as it was expected that Japan would soon create an
Islamic organization independent from the Triple A Movement.
There was no reason to upset the new regime, argued Wondo-
amiseno, as it seemed committed to strengthening the Islamic
movement by providing it with a united organization. Until then
Sarekat Islam was to focus on education (tabligh) and economic
initiatives.81 The following month Japan re-established MIAI,
entrusting its leadership to Harsono Tjokroaminoto and Won-
doamiseno, who at that point were seen as the most cooperative
elements of PSII.82
Driven by the idea that Islam could be a viable way to pene-
trate Indonesians’ souls, and thus help their effort to gain popu-
lar support, in 1943 the Japanese begun to co-opt kiyai and ulama
by training them in pan-Asian ideology, hoping that this would be
integrated in their pan-Islamic vision.83
In March 1943 the Triple A Movement experiment was termi-
nated, and Japan created Putera in its stead (Pusat Tenaga Rakjat,
Concentration of the People’s Power). Putera brought together
all political and non-political nationalist organizations to work
towards establishing a form of self-government. Although in the
hands of secular nationalists - its directorate included Soekarno,
Hatta, and Ki Hadjar Dewantoro of the Taman Siswa - Putera also
gave a leading role to the former chairman of Muhammadiyah
K.H. Mas Mansur. In its attempt to seal a partnership with Islam,
Japan went as far as calling upon the Indonesian people to ful-
fil their ‘duty to defend themselves as an Asiatic race, to defend
the religion, the sovereignty, and justice as Muslems [sic], and to
support the realisation of Hakko Itjoe [Japanese for ‘the world as
81 ‘Letter of Ladjnah Tanfidzijah Partij Sjarikat Islam Indonesia Batavia-Centrum 2044’, APG,
no. 1007, NA.
82 Soeara MIAI [hereafter SMIAI], 1 January 2603 JIY/1943 CE.
83 The Japanese administration in 1943-44 established obligatory courses for religious teach-
ers. ‘Kiai-Cursus’, Archief van de Algemene Secretarie, 1944-1950 [hereafter AAS], nos. 5236,
5237, includes several exercise notebooks that show the high level of indoctrination on themes
such as pan-Asianism and the Co-Prosperity Sphere these teachers were subjected to. Kiyai were
also asked to answer questions such as ‘in which practical ways do you expect to cooperate with
the Dai Nippon?’. Also very interesting are the archives containing the registration modules of
participating kiyai. These offer extensive information on their family history and education, and
often also on the titles of the texts studied and taught.
72
one house’] as ordained by Allah’.84 The honeymoon between

the Japanese authority and the Islamic movement would only last
until late 1944, when Japan’s favour was transferred to the secular
nationalists, a shift that led Soekarno to cry: ‘to live and die with
Japan’.85
Kartosuwiryo was just as enthusiastic about the change of
regime, and he was ready to fight for the supremacy of Japan along
with other Islamic leaders. Returning to journalism, he became a
regular contributor to the bi-weekly magazine Soeara MIAI from its
inception in March 1943 until it dissolved at the end of the same
year.86 Kartosuwiryo promoted a profoundly cooperative attitude
towards the foreign authority, marking a dramatic change from his
earlier pieces published in Fadjar Asia.
Kartosuwiryo pledged support to Japan – which he described
as ‘earnestly endeavour[ing to advance] the common welfare and
prosperity of Greater East Asia’ – and stated that his own ‘modest
contribution’ to the war effort was, ‘whether one liked it or not,’
cooperation. Nonetheless, Kartosuwiryo also reminded his readers
that the duty to participate in building a Greater East Asia under
Japanese leadership was not to eclipse Muslims’ religious duties:
Indonesian Muslims had to persevere in their belief in the afterlife
and maintain patience in meeting their individual and communal
obligations through iman and tauhid 87.
At a time when Japan had expelled Fir’aun Belanda (the Dutch
Pharaoh) and thus had ‘opened the door to, and widened the
efforts towards, Islam’,88 the Indonesian ummah had to take advan-
tage of the changed circumstances and cooperate with Japan in
creating a ‘new world’.89
84 Helen Hardacre explains the concept of Hakkō Ichiu as ‘eight corners of the world under
one roof’. For Hardacre, the term suggests that ‘[t]he Japanese were a superior people with a
mission to rule the entire world’. Evidently, Indonesians understood this concept in a differ-
ent way. Helen Hardacre, Shintō and the state, 1868-1988 (Princeton: Princeton University Press,
1989), p. 40.
85 Words of Muhammad Zain Djambek in M. Slamet, The holy war ‘made in Japan, vol. II, ‘Japa-
nese machinations’ (Batavia, 1946), pp. 12-3.
86 Kartosuwiryo, ‘Bekal bathin dalam perdjoeangan’, SMIAI, 1 March; ‘Menoedjoe ke arah
dar-oel-Islam dan dar-oes-Salam’, SMIAI, 15 March; ‘Fardl-oel-‘ain dan fardl-oel-kifajah dalam
Islam’, SMIAI, 1 May; ‘Kewadjiban oemmat Islam menghadapi “doenia baroe”’, SMIAI, 15 May;
‘Baitoel-mal pada zaman pantjaroba dan tarich bait-al-mal zaman Rasoeloellah clm dan choelafa-
oer-rasidin r.a.a’, SMIAI, 28 June; ‘I’tibar madjazy dan ma’any’ SMIAI, 15 July; ‘Benteng Islam’
SMIAI, 1 September 2603 JIY/1943 CE.
87 Kartosuwiryo, ‘Bekal bathin dalam perdjoeangan’, SMIAI, 1 March.
88 Kartosuwiryo, ‘Bekal bathin dalam perdjoeangan’, SMIAI, 1 March.
89 Kartosuwiryo, ‘Bekal bathin dalam perdjoeangan’, SMIAI, 1 March; ‘Fardl-oel-‘ain dan
fardl-oel-kifajah’, SMIAI, 1 May.
73
The apex of Kartosuwiryo’s positive attitude toward Japanese

rule was reached in May 1943, when he wrote: ‘Whether one likes
it or not, each individual and group will become a member of the
Big Family, the Greater East Asia Family’, and each of its parts ‘has
to feel obliged to work, help, and support it with full conviction and
consciousness, in the effort to reach common prosperity’. Coopera-
tion with Japan had become wajib (obligatory).90
It is on this basis that Kartosuwiryo advocated the unification of
all those who had been contributing to building the Greater East Asia
sphere into one front. His understanding of Japan’s dunia baru (‘new
world’) as an embryonic Islamic state became explicit: the front was
called Benteng Islam (Islamic Front), and the new world represented
the bridge to the dar al-akhirat, the afterlife.91 The goal of the Benteng
Islam was to implement religious precepts and further Islamize Indo-
nesia under Japanese rule. To ensure the success of such a project,
the front had to rely on a combination of the ummah’s genuine belief,
the Islamic leaders’ knowledge and the Japanese national govern-
ment’s authority. Kartosuwiryo appeared very confident that Japan
would support this idea: ‘As the Supreme Government in Tokyo and
the military authority located here have already granted the Islamic
ummah the freedom to follow its religious duties, now all that is left
are the lower levels of the National government.’92
Even though at this point Kartosuwiryo still seemed pleased
with the Japanese attempts to coordinate the nationalist move-
ment, by 1949 he was to describe their rule as a circus in which
the animals (Indonesian nationalist leaders) were only free to act
within the limited range of movement allowed and orchestrated
by their trainer, Japan.93 Using less picturesque terms, Benda has
made a similar point about this tendency of the Japanese regime:
Until almost the end of the occupation […] it was they who held
the keys to all power, and it was they who rigorously maintained the
limits within which urban elites, especially, were allowed to move.
Whether nominally exercising the authority of ‘independent’ gov-
ernments or whether playing less elevated roles as leaders of as-
yet dependent peoples, the scope of nationalist elites was pitifully
restricted, their activities narrowly circumscribed, and their bar-
gaining power vis-à-vis the occupying power virtually non-existent.94
90 Kartosuwiryo, ‘Kewadjiban oemmat Islam menghadapi “doenia baroe”’, SMIAI, 15 May and
‘Benteng Islam’, SMIAI, 1 September.
91 Kartosuwiryo, ‘Kewadjiban oemmat Islam menghadapi “doenia baroe”’, SMIAI, 15 May.
92 Kartosuwiryo, ‘Benteng Islam’, SMIAI, 1 September.
93 Kartosuwiryo, ‘ad-Daulatul Islamiyah’, March 1949, in Al Chaidar, Pemikiran politik, pp. 815-20.
94 Benda, ‘The structure of Southeast Asian history’, p. 135.
74
Yet Kartosuwiryo’s support of Japan’s rule had apparently paid off.

In May 1943 he was reported to be mayor of Bandung,95 and by June
he succeeded in setting up a treasury for the Islamic community –
the bait al-mal – under MIAI’s sponsorship.96 As it was explained in a
series of articles published in Soeara MIAI, the function of the bait al-
mal was socio-economic. In this transitional period when the ummah
was ‘striving for the realization of the Co-Prosperity Sphere’, the bait
al-mal’s finances were to be used to support the war. During times of
peace, this treasury would have also collected wealth from unclaimed
inheritance, dhimmi’s (tax-paying non-Muslim monotheist) taxes and
war spoils, taking up all the functions of a treasury.97 The majelis bait
al-mal was operated at a regional level in the Bandung area by Won-
doamiseno and Wiranatakoesoema. Kartosuwiryo’s plan to extend
it to every province in Java soon encountered Japanese opposition.
As MIAI gained socio-political success, Japanese administra-
tors began to fear that the anti-Dutch sentiments predominant in
pre-invasion Islamic circles would be translated into anti-Japanese
sentiments. Furthermore, Benda has suggested that it was the cre-
ation of the bait al-mal as a monetary institution that tipped the
balance and brought Japan to the decision to disband MIAI entire-
ly.98 Within two weeks of the dissolution of MIAI, the Majelis Sjo-
ero Muslimin Indonesia (Masjoemi or, in current usage, Masyumi)
was established in its place.99 Masyumi’s leadership was entrusted
to Muhammadiyah and Nahdatul Ulama, whom the Japanese saw
as less politicized, thus leaving PSII and the other former political
parties with no role to play.
the rise of secular nationalism
At the end of 1943, Putera was also dissolved, and replaced with
the Jawa Hōkōkai, by far the most successful of all the Japanese
attempts to mobilize the Javanese population. This group retained
95 ‘Ketoea Dewan MIAI mengoetjapkan terima kasih’, Asia Raya, 18 May 1943.
96 The bait al-mal is a Qur’anic institution representing a communal treasury in which
Qur’anic taxes are deposited, and through which the community could support those in need
of financial help, such as widows, orphans and the poor. ‘Gambar soesoenan baital-mal M.I.A.I.’,
SMIAI, 1 July 1943; Kartosuwiryo was appointed secretary.
97 Kartosuwiryo, ‘Baitoel-mal pada zaman pantjaroba’, SMIAI, 28 June 1943.
98 Benda, The crescent and the rising sun, p. 145-6; for further details on the Japanese era bait
al-mal, see pp. 144-7.
99 ‘Pemboebaran MIAI’, Asia Raya, 2 November 1943, and ‘Majelis Sjoera Moeslimin Indone-
sia’, Asia Raya, 23 November 1943.
75
Soekarno as its leader, and throughout the year it enjoyed increased

freedoms and support from the Japanese – including the creation
of a military wing, the Barisan Pelopor (Pioneer Corps) – tipping
the balance in favour of the secular nationalists. As Japan was the
ultimate gate-keeper of the political sphere, the rising prominence
of the secular nationalists had wide-ranging effects. By the time the
government declared, in early September, that Indonesia would
obtain independence ‘in the near future’,100 the tables had turned
and Islamic groups’ dominance was limited to the social sphere.
It was not until late December, when Japan was increasingly los-
ing ground on the international scene, that local authorities once
again embraced Islam as a key element of their anti-Western pro-
paganda. In an attempt to identify their defence as a holy war, they
added a religious flavour to the Pembela Tanah Air, (Peta, Army
for the Defence of the Fatherland) by placing the Muslim crescent
on its flag. They also allowed Masyumi to have its own armed wing.
Hizboellah was placed under the direction of Wahid Hasyim and
was open to Indonesian Muslims between 17 and 25 years of age.
Trainees came from all over the archipelago, and in February 1945
the first group of 500 started military and ideological training in Ciba-
rusa, West Java, under the leadership of K.H. Zainul Arifin. Among
the several ulama providing spiritual training was K.H. Moestafa
Kamil from Singaparna, the above-mentioned Sarekat Islam leader.101
In April 1945 Kartosuwiryo became a trainer for the Banten branch
of the Barisan Pelopor; he was never a member of the Hizboellah.102 It
should not be a surprise that a leader of the Islamic nationalist move-
100 Benda, The crescent and the rising sun, p. 173.

101 K.H.M. Hasyim Latief, Laskar Hisbullah (Surabaya: Lajnah Ta’lif wan Nasyr PBNU, 1995),
pp. 11-22.
102 ‘Nama-nama kepala rombongan jang akan dikirimkan keloeroeh Syuu oentoek Hooshi-
II’, Indonesia Merdeka, 25 April 1945, p. 6. Several scholars have argued that Kartosuwiryo was a
Hizboellah leader in West Java (ranging from Pinardi, Sekarmadji Maridjan, p. 29 to Merle C.
Ricklefs, A history of modern Indonesia since c.1200, 3rd ed [Basingstoke: Palgrave, 2001], p. 227),
but I was unable to find any primary source supporting this statement. Hizboellah leaders in
Bandung were Aminuddin Hamzah, Kamran, Hoeseinsyah, Utarya, Gofur Ismail, Arustandi,
Ahim, Samsudin Hamid, Mokhtar, H. Junaedi, Kadar Solihat, Zainal Abidin and Syahbandar;
the Cimahi area was led by Umar Damiri and H Naswari; Kamran and Husainsyah coordinated
Hizboellah across West Java. The West Java branch of the Sabilillah armed wing - a sister organi-
zation of Hizboellah - were instead established in February 1946, and among its leaders figured
Isa Ansyari, Ismail Napu, KH Joesoef Taoeziri, H Jaenuddin, Ajengan Toha and A. Mokhtar.
Usman Jauhari, ‘Peranan Hizboellah-Sabilillah dalam perlawanan bersenjata terhadap Belanda
di Jawa Barat pada masa revolusi fisik (1945-1959)’ (thesis, Universitas Padjajaran, Bandung,
1987), pp. 34-5. The first group of Hizboellah fighters in West Java completed their training on
20 May 1945 under the leadership of Kahar Mudhakkar, the future DI leader in South Sulawesi;
‘Toendjoekkanlah kepada doenia, bahwa bangsa Indonesia adalah bangsa jang masih hidoep!’,
Asia Raya, 22 May 1945, in Benda, The crescent and the rising sun, p. 140.
76
ment became part of the cadre of the secular Pioneer Corps instead
of joining Masyumi’s military wing. As mentioned, former PSII mem-
bers had been effectively expelled from – or, perhaps more accurately,
had never been included in – Masyumi, to the extent that politicized
Islamic nationalists had infiltrated the Jawa Hōkōkai, gaining particu-
lar influence in Bandung and the Priangan area.103
Despite their mixed constituencies, their joint effort in prepar-
ing post-occupation institutions, their common goal of indepen-
dence and their agreement over the need to protect Japan against
the Allies, Masyumi appeared uninterested in Jawa Hōkōkai’s pro-
posal to merge the two organizations. The Muslim party was aware
that it would have meant the loss of its autonomy as well as of its
leverage in securing a role for Islam in the future state of Indonesia.
concluding remarks
Between 1929 and 1936 Kartosuwiryo was propelled towards the

leadership of Sarekat Islam, and they coordinated a radicalization
of Islamist politics and non-cooperation. In the aftermath of Tjok-
roaminoto’s death, the hijrah policy became a dominant feature
of the party’s policies, especially as secular nationalists retreated
towards cooperation with the Dutch to achieve self-governance. As
De Jonge’s repressive policies cornered Sarekat Islam and Kartosu-
wiryo, several long-standing members withdrew their support from
the party, eventually leading to Kartosuwiryo’s expulsion.
At the time of the Japanese landing in 1942, Indonesia and the
Netherlands had already been rapidly drifting apart. Dai Nippon
succeeded in finding its niche in the hearts of most Indonesians,
harvesting support in rural and urban areas by co-opting political
and administrative agents. The religious movement grew stron-
ger under Japanese rule, as it became more coordinated, created
a stronger structure and, most importantly, was provided with an
armed wing: in 1948 this would become the core foundation for
Kartosuwiryo’s Darul Islam.
While the Allied forces were making progress against the Axis
powers, Japan agreed to prepare Indonesia for independence.
Japan first supported political Islam as an instrument for deepening
its hold on the country’s population, but when the secular national-
ist elite was deemed more suitable for the task of laying the founda-
tions of the new state, the Japanese shifted their support accordingly.
103 Benda, The crescent and the rising sun, p. 266.
77
3
Religious resistance and secular politics

Laying the foundations of the Indonesian state
(1945-1947)
We didn’t want to leave West Java behind, we didn’t want to see the
ummah and the Indonesian people in West Java become slaves of the
evil Dutch, we didn’t have the heart to listen to the moans of the Republi-
cans who wished to retreat to Yogya[karta]. […] for whom were we with-
drawing to Yogya? And what would we do, then, if the Dutch took Yogya
as well? What would be the fate of the people left behind? Wasn’t that a
betrayal? […] Eventually, with resolute hearts, we decided not to join the
withdrawal to Yogya and to continue instead the resistance against the
occupying Dutch soldiers, joining the Sabilillah group in West Java.1
Japan had made new concessions to Islamic groups in the social

and religious fields, but it quickly stepped back when it came to
determining the position of Islam in the new state, fully delegat-
ing the definition of such relation to local leaders. In late April
1945 Japan formed the Komite Nasional Indonesia Pusat (KNIP,
Preparatory Committee for Independence), with the intention of
initiating a debate about the ideological foundations of the future
Indonesian state. On an increasingly dynamic political stage, the
inexperienced leaders of Muhammadiyah, Nahdatul Ulama and
Masyumi were quickly sidelined by the nationalist elite. When in
May the debate became polarized around the question of whether
Indonesia should be an Islamic or a secular state, Soekarno’s camp
emerged as the winner.2
The conclusive speech, delivered by Soekarno on 1 June,
ignored the controversy that had dominated the committee’s ses-
sions and proclaimed, in the name of national interest, unity and
harmony, that Indonesia was to be built on the Pancasila, or the five
1 Confession of Sjarif Hidajat, Darul Islam member, arrested on 2 July 1961. ‘Confession letter
of Sjarif Hidajat, former member of Kartosuwiryo’s group’, 10 September 1961, Penumpasan
DI-JaBar, [folii], Arsip Angkatan Bersenjata Republik Indonesia [hereafter AABRI DI], Jakarta.
2 Benda, The crescent and the rising sun, pp. 169-94 and pp. 179 onwards.
principles of kebangsaan (nationalism), perkemanusiaan (humanitar-

ianism), permusyawaratan-perwakilan (deliberation among represen-
tatives), kesejahteraan (social welfare) and ketuhanan (belief in One
God).3
A smaller committee was arranged to address the complaints
coming from the Islamic faction and to ease emerging frictions.
On 22 June the participants reached a common declaration meant
to serve as the new constitution’s preamble. While it did not rec-
ognize the idea of an Islamic state, this version of the constitution
accepted sharia law by affirming ‘the obligation for adherents of
Islam to practise Islamic law’.4
This clear reference to Islam in the constitutional preamble
prompted a reaction from the Christian representatives, and that
sentence – later to become known as the Piagam Jakarta (Jakarta
Charter) – disappeared from the final draft presented on 13 July,
being replaced instead with a declaration of freedom of religion.
The members of the Islamic faction had intended to further debate
these changes, but as Japan was losing ground in the Pacific and
would soon capitulate, Indonesian politicians felt compelled to
accelerate their preparations for independence and to work with
what they had. By 7 August the committee had been cleansed of all
Japanese members, and on the 11th, in the aftermath of the explo-
sion of the atomic bombs in Hiroshima and Nagasaki, Japan reas-
sured Soekarno and Hatta that independence would be granted on
the 24th of that month.
This chapter analyses the end of Japanese rule in Indonesia, the

return of the Dutch and the dynamics surrounding Soekarno’s
establishment of the Indonesian Republic. I focus in particular on
Masyumi’s reaction to Soekarno’s decision to declare Indonesia a
non-confessional state and on his readiness to re-engage in dip-
lomatic talks with the Dutch. Kartosuwiryo had been sidelined in
1944, but we see him now returning to the political scene, first as
Masyumi’s executive committee secretary (in 1945), and then as a
party representative at the KNIP (1946 and 1947) and a candidate
for the post of junior Minister of Defence (July 1947).
3 Boland, The struggle of Islam, pp. 15-23; Herbert Feith and Lance Castles (eds), Indonesian
political thinking, 1945-1965 (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1970), pp. 40-9.
4 ‘dengan kewadjiban mendjalankan Sjari’at Islam bagi pemeluk-pemeluknja’; see Soekarno, Hatta
et. al., ‘Piagam Jakarta: Preamble to Undang-Undang Dasar Republik Indonesia 1945’, in Greg
Fealy and Virginia Hooker (eds), Voices of Islam in Southeast Asia (Singapore: ISEAS, 2006),
pp. 209-10. The members of the committee were Soekarno, Hatta, A.A. Maramis, Abikoesno
Tjokrosoejoso, Abdoelkahar Moedhakkir, H. Agoes Salim, Achmad Soebardjo, Wahid Hasjim
and Moehammad Jamin.
80
3 Religious resistance and secular politics |
Kartosuwiryo’s base was still the Priangan, and when the Dutch
launched their invasion of West Java in July 1947, he rejected any
further involvement in national politics in favour of organizing the
defence of his region. It was in the midst of this invasion that Karto-
suwiryo transformed the West Java branch of Masyumi into the Darul
Islam group, setting aside his commitment to the parliamentary
struggle, an effort that he had renewed as recently as August 1946.
At the national level, in the years following the Japanese capitu-
lation, Masyumi would become more insistent in its demands for
an Islamic state, also calling it a darul Islam. In 1945 the Party pro-
claimed armed resistance to the Dutch a jihad, and occasionally
Masyumi took an aggressive stand against the Republican adminis-
tration. Political clashes soon had their counterpart on the battle
ground, as Republican troops and Islamic militias tended to keep
separate. The Dutch invasion and the ensuing treaty (the Ling-
gadjati Agreement) further heightened tensions, as West Java
was declared de facto Dutch territory, thus establishing the end of
Republican authority over the region.
shifting centres of power: tokyo, jakarta, london, the hague
Japan’s plan to transfer sovereignty to Indonesian leaders was halted

by its defeat in World War II. Japan surrendered on 15 August,
and the Allied forces, on behalf of the South East Asia Command
(SEAC), took control of the Pacific front immediately thereafter.
Yet as the British were unable to land until late September, Java
was left to its own fate as a contested space between the retreating
Japanese, the Indonesian nationalists and the re-invading Dutch
troops.5 The enthusiasm that had swept across the archipelago at
the Japanese landing was experienced by neither the SEAC nor the
Dutch troops.
The news of Japan’s surrender took weeks to seep through and
out of Jakarta, fomenting unrest and chaos between diplomacy-
oriented politicians and revolution-minded pemuda (youth). The
first and perhaps most significant of such incidents was the kidnap-
ping of Soekarno and Hatta by a group of radical nationalists who
wanted independence declared before Japan transferred authority
to the Allies.
5 For a detailed account of the British occupation, see Richard Mcmillan’s, The British occupa-
tion of Indonesia, 1945-1946 (London: RoutledgeCurzon, 2005) and ‘British military intelligence
in Java and Sumatra, 1945-46’, Indonesia and the Malay World 37-107 (2009).
81
Soekarno proclaimed independence on 17 August with-

out the support of Soetan Sjahrir, who was head of the under-
ground anti-Japanese movement, or that of the Islamic wing,
which demanded a more prominent role for religion. Hatta
chaired a final informal meeting of the preparatory committee
on 18 August and concluded that Indonesia only had a chance as
an independent nation if no mention of Islam was made in the
constitution.
The Jakarta Charter was excluded from the final version of the
Indonesian constitution, and to placate the Islamic nationalists,
Soekarno specified that this constitution was ‘temporary’, ‘quick’
and only applicable to the revolution (sementara, kilat, revolutiegrond-
wet). Soekarno also promised that ‘later in the future […] if we live
in a safe and orderly state, we will gather once again the elected
representatives of the people, who will enable us to make a more
complete and perfect constitution’.6 Soekarno’s failure to follow
up on the ‘temporary’ aspect of the constitution deeply informed
Kartosuwiryo’s decision to proclaim the Negara Islam Indonesia in
1949.
In the weeks following their surrender, the Japanese were still
in charge. The British commander requested, albeit unsuccessfully,
that all internees remain in the camps, so as to avoid the spread of
vengeful violence. Lawlessness was rampant in the towns and the
countryside, with the Japanese, Europeans and Chinese becoming
the favourite targets of local gangs. Jakarta was the centre of a strug-
gle for power among the Dutch, Japanese and Indonesians, in the
midst of which British troops quietly mediated to re-establish law
and order. On the political front, Soekarno and Hatta acted as if
the proclamation had been forced upon them. They did very little
to establish government structures, instead focusing on diplomacy
and leaving most of the action to the so-called laskar (militia), both
in Jakarta as well as in the neighbouring areas. The apex of this
conflict in strategy was reached in mid September, when Soekarno
interrupted a mass rally in the capital with calls for peace and order
instead of showing his support for the revolutionary intent of the
demonstrators.
By the end of the month, the Japanese mayor had indirectly
handed over control of the city to his Indonesian counterpart,
Suwiryo, and Dutch attempts to regain it were stonewalled by the
6 Endang Saifuddin Anshari, Piagam Jakarta 22 Juni 1945: Sebuah konsensus nasional tentang
dasar negara Republik Indonesia 1945-1959, 3rd ed. (Jakarta: Gema Insani Press, 1997), p. 48. A
recent discussion of the Jakarta Charter and its current impact on Indonesian politics can be
found in Nadirsyah Hosen, Shari’a and constitutional reform, pp. 59-69.
82
Allies, who insisted that the Dutch not re-take political control. An
official Dutch municipal administration was not constituted until
February 1946. In the latter part of 1945 Jakarta functioned as the
formal capital of both the Indonesian Republic and the Nether-
lands Indies, its de facto control being a crucial step on the road
towards de jure authority over all of Java, if not over the entire for-
mer East Indies’ territory. But when British troops succeeded in
bringing the city under total control in December, most laskar fled
the town, and the Republican government gradually withdrew to
Central Java, leaving Jakarta in the hands of the Europeans.7
Within weeks of the Japanese surrender, before the British
assumed control of Jakarta, Soekarno had already formed the
first Republican cabinet. Having transformed the KNIP into a
legislative body, Soekarno called on Indonesians to form politi-
cal parties and to begin preparations for parliamentary elections,
scheduled for the following year in January. The nationalist front
was far from united, and in October the socialist Soetan Sjahrir
released his Perjuangan kita (Our struggle) pamphlet, indirectly
accusing Soekarno of cooperation with the Japanese and of dis-
playing sympathies for Tan Malaka. Tan Malaka was the leader of
the communist group, who, it had emerged, had in October and
November been preparing for a coup. To avoid the potentially
destabilizing alliance of Sjahrir with Tan Malaka, in mid Novem-
ber Soekarno offered Sjahrir the opportunity to form the cabinet.
The post-World War II reorientation of the nationalist move-
ment was evident to Van Mook as soon as he landed on Java in
October 1945. The Lieutenant Governor-General realized that the
Japanese occupation had strengthened the nationalists to the point
that their struggle for independence had gained too much momen-
tum to be restrained by military force. Restraining the movement
was even less tenable because the Netherlands would have had to
rely on British troops, which had neither an interest nor a stake in
reinstating Dutch colonial rule. Further widening the existing rift
between Jakarta and The Hague, Van Mook initiated talks with the
nationalist leadership, as he saw a viable solution only in diplomacy.
More importantly, he saw the solution in recognizing the different
status of Java vis-à-vis the rest of the archipelago, as the Netherlands
had indeed succeeded in restoring pre-war order in the eastern
islands.8
7 Robert Cribb, ‘Administrative competition in the Indonesian revolution: The dual govern-
ment of Jakarta, 1945-1947’ in The Indonesian revolution, pp. 129-46.
8 J.J.P. de Jong, ‘Winds of change: Van Mook, Dutch policy and the realities of November
1945’, in The Indonesian revolution, pp. 163-82.
83
The Allies had been quite explicit in their unwillingness to

negotiate with a former collaborator of the Japanese (meaning
Soekarno), and so it was that the recognition of Sjahrir’s cabinet
as representative of one portion of the Indonesian archipelago and
his voluntary agreement to a federation with tight connections to
the Netherlands made it possible, in late 1946, the signing of the
Linggadjati Agreement.
In the window between the Japanese defeat and the Dutch
return, the political scene changed dramatically. The largest party
during this time was the new Partai Nasional Indonesia (PNI),
which, its name notwithstanding, had nothing to do with Soekar-
no’s party, as it represented professionals and civil servants. How-
ever, the party with the widest and deepest support in late 1945
– and until the end of the decade – was Masyumi, which had reor-
ganized itself in November. The next party to form was the Partai
Sosialis (Socialist Party), which was established in December and
included both Amir Sjarifuddin’s and Soetan Sjahrir’s constituen-
cies. Several other parties were founded in 1946, yet only these
three played significant roles during the revolution and in the
early years of the Republic.
In the months following the Indonesian proclamation of inde-
pendence, Kartosuwiryo regained his position as secretary of
Masyumi’s executive committee, and he was also chosen as party
representative for the KNIP general assemblies in 1946 and 1947,
and for its Working Committee (Badan Pekerja) in 1947.9
At the November 1945 congress, former Sarekat Islam and
Partai Islam Indonesia (PII) members dominated the central
board, whilst NU and Muhammadiyah leaders were only found
in the Majelis Sjoero (consultative assembly). The boards of the
two departments were a bit of a potpourri, with Agoes Salim and
Mohammad Roem from the Awareness Committee sitting next
to Kartosuwiryo, Muhammad Natsir, K.H.A. Sanoesi, and K.H.
Abdoelwahab.10 In the meantime Muhammad Natsir acted as vice-
president of the KNIP working committee.11 This fragmentation
of the membership of the core bodies of the party created the
conditions for Masyumi’s political incoherence in the 1950s. As
9 D. Noer and Akbarsyah, K.N.I.P.: Komite Nasional Indonesia Pusat. Parlemen Indonesia 1945-
1959 (Jakarta: Yayasan Risalah, 2005).
10 Deliar Noer, Masjumi: its organization, ideology and political role in Indonesia (master’s thesis,
Cornell University, Ithaca, 1960).
11 ‘Overzichten van berichten betreffende het republikeinse leger in de Maleise pers van
West-Java 1945 Oktober-1946 April’, p. 59, AMK: Supplement (1664) 1826-1952 [hereafter
Supp] no. 78, NA.
84
old fractures had not yet healed, it is not surprising that Masyumi
failed to bring about a defined platform for Indonesia’s inde-
pendence in Islamic terms. Within a year, the leadership would
change dramatically.12
In the period following the SEAC occupation of Java, three
dynamics - Soekarno’s neglect of Islam, the Republic’s weakness in
asserting its sovereignty against Dutch claims, and Masyumi’s lack
of a political strategy to gain a more dominant position in national
politics (despite its large following) - led to the Islamization of the
ideological struggle as well as the polarization of Republican and
Islamic troops on the territory of West Java.
masyumi’s islamization of the ideological struggle
In early October 1945 the Poentjak Pimpinan Masjoemi Batavia

(Masyumi Jakarta Leadership Summit) declared a perang sabil
against the Japanese and the Netherlands Indies Civil Administra-
tion (NICA). According to a Dutch overview of the Malay press in
West Java, Masyumi was calling upon Indonesians to work towards
unifying religion and state.13 This call was not an isolated case.
While Van Mook was informing The Hague that nationalist
groups in Java had radicalized, displaying ‘hard fanaticism’, Kiyai
Haji Hasjim Asj’ari, founder and chairman of Nahdatul Ulama and
now chairman of Masyumi’s Majelis Sjoero, issued a declaration
of holy war against the Dutch. Published on 20 November 1945
in Kedaulatan Rakyat,14 this declaration called upon all Muslims to
defend the newly independent Indonesia from the ‘infidels who
obstruct our independence’ and the NICA. Such a defence was
declared an individual duty (fard al-‘ain), and whoever died in the
12 Dewan Partij: Soekiman, from its PSII splinter Partai Islam Indonesia, was the chairman,
with Abikoesno (PSII) and Wali al-Fatah (PII) as his vices; Harsono Tjokroaminoto (PSII) and
Prawoto Mangkoesasmito (SIS) were the secretaries. Majelis Sjoero: KH Hasjim Asj’ari as chair-
man, Ki Bagoes Hadikoesoemo, K. Wahid Hasjim and Kasman Singodimedjo as vice-chairmen.
Masjoemi, Partai Politik Islam Indonesia (Bukit Tinggi: Dewan Pemimpin Daerah Masjoemi Soe-
matra Barat). This pamphlet was most probably printed on the occasion of the 22 April 1946
congress.
13 ‘Overzichten van berichten betreffende het republikeinse leger in de Maleise pers van
West-Java 1945 Oktober-1946 April’, p. 34, AMK: Supp no. 78, NA.
14 Kedaulatan Rakyat [hereafter KR], 20 November 1945 in Amiq, ‘Two fatwas on jihad against
the Dutch colonisation in Indonesia: A prosopographical approach to the study of fatwa’, Studia
Islamika 5-3 (1998), p. 86.
85
fighting was to be a martyr.15 At the Nahdatul Ulama congress, held

in March 1946, it was decided that all Muslims – men and women,
adults and children, armed and unarmed – living within a 94 km
radius from occupied areas had the individual religious duty to
fight the Dutch. For those living outside the given distance, theirs
was instead a collective duty (fard al-kifaya).16 The legal grounds
for this resolution were found in the fact that Indonesia had been
declared ‘land of Islam’, dar al-Islam, in 1936, making the defence
of its territory and population against infidel invasions wajib.17
Asj’ari’s fatwa also announced that ‘whoever divides our unity is
liable to be killed’. The view that ‘splitters’ should be equated with
apostates was derived from the idea that whoever undermined a
united front was ‘a Dutch agent’. It is not far-fetched to suggest that
this was a veiled accusation of the nationalists’ readiness to cooper-
ate with Dutch colonial authorities.18
The modernist wing, in charge of Masyumi’s central board, was
reluctant to endorse Asj’ari’s fatwa, declaring a jihad against the
Dutch, and to call the whole community to such a duty. The central
congress had already rejected a motion proposed by the Kaoem
Moeslimin Indonesia Angkatan Sendjata (Indonesian Muslims
Armed Group) to declare ‘war on the way of God’ (jihad fi-sabilillah)
a collective religious duty.19 However, it felt compelled to endorse
the pressures advanced from several quarters20 and supported the
plan to prepare the Islamic community for such a jihad.21 To show
15 Islamic fiqh categorizes actions in five groups: haram (prohibited), makruh (contemptible),
mubah (permitted), mustahabb or sunnah (recommended). The wajib/fard (obligatory) actions
are further distinguished between those that pertain to the individual (fard al-‘ayn) or those that
fall upon the entire community (fard al-kifaya).
Nahdatul Ulama literature refers to the ‘jihad resolution’ as being released either at the NU
Java and Madura congress held in Surabaya on 22 October 1945, or possibly at the Central Java
congress held in Purwokerto from 26 to 29 March 1946. al-Djihad, 2 April 1946; Amiq, ‘Two
fatwas on jihad’, pp. 87-9.
16 ‘Resoloesi tentang djihad’, al-Djihad no. 30, 2 April 1946.
17 This opinion was given by Shaykh Muhammad Salih al-Ra’is, who is described by Amiq as
the mufti of the Hadramis, via a fatwa that was later sent to Nahdatul Ulama leaders. The fatwa
was eventually approved by the NU Banjarmasin congress in 1936; Amiq, ‘Two fatwas on jihad’,
pp. 90, 108-9.
18 This approach is explicit in Kartosuwiryo’s 1949 ad-Daulatul Islamiyah and Manifesto politik
no. 1/7, in which Republican leaders and supporters are accused of being ‘Dutch agents’, and
thus enemies of war.
19 ‘Kaoem Moeslimin Indonesia Angkat Sendjata’, KR, 15 October 1945.
20 During the khutba for Idul Adha (mid November 1945) in Bandung, Kiyai Abdoessalam
had called on the large crowd to fight a holy war against the Netherlands; in ‘Militaire, politieke
en economische gegevens uit de Maleise pers betreffende de residenties Batavia, Buitenzorg,
Krawang, Bandung, Surakarta, Djokjakarta, Semarang en Kedu’, p. 11, AMK: Supp no. 76, NA.
21 ‘60 Miljoen kaoem Moeslimin Indonesia siap berdjihad fi Sabilillah’, KR, 9 November 1945.
86
its support of this plan, the congress decided in favour of creating

a new armed wing, the Sabilillah (lit. ‘on the path of God’), which
was a special corps of the Tentara Keamanan Rakyat (TKR, People’s
Security Army) placed under the direct supervision of Masyumi to
support the already active Hizboellah.22
These steps confirmed the party’s general understanding of
jihad as a duty to be pursued only by a portion of the population –
namely, the armed-youth wings – whilst the rest of the population
was to concentrate on ‘studying the social sciences’ and entering
the world of politics. Studying and engaging in politics were crucial
as Masyumi leaders believed that change was only possible through
political action.23 As Harun Nasution has argued, the modernists
sought to create an Islamic state by first preparing its society, whilst
the traditionalists believed it impossible to create an Islamic society
without first establishing the appropriate government structures.24
In the revolutionary context of 1946, this distinction was to become
blurred, and Kartosuwiryo’s explanation of Masyumi’s strategy will
show the uncompromising primacy of independence.
Masyumi’s dedication to establishing an independent Islamic
state was constantly emphasized in the pages of its bulletin al-Dji-
had. Beginning in February 1946, this periodical conducted a pro-
paganda campaign in support of a holy war, the hijrah policy and
an Islamic state, or darul Islam. On 13 February it celebrated the
prophetic migration to Medina and Muhammad’s defence of the
Islamic city-state as models of political action, suggesting that read-
ers should rise in an Islamic revolution as a free and independent
ummah ‘demanding freedom for its religion, people and islands’.25
This same month, the party congress unveiled the two pillars of
its political agenda: an unshakable dedication to the formation of
a darul Islam, that is an Islamic state, and a commitment to do so
through parliamentary consultation. This approach was reaffirmed
22 ‘Barisan Sabilillah’, KR, 17 November 1945.

23 ‘Masjoemi, toelang poenggoeng Republik Indonesia’, al-Djihad no. 26, 28 February 1946.
Members of the Masyumi branch in Cicalengka were reportedly shouting – during a party meet-
ing in early January – ‘Freedom and paradise’; in: ‘Militaire, politieke en economische gegevens
uit de Maleise pers betreffende de residenties Batavia, Buitenzorg, Krawang, Bandung, Sura-
karta, Djokjakarta, Semarang en Kedu’, p. 16, AMK: Supp no. 76, NA.
24 Harun Nasution, ‘The Islamic state in Indonesia: The rise of the ideology, the move-
ment for its creation and the theory of the MASJUMI’ (master’s thesis, McGill, Montreal,
1965, pp. 76-7).
25 ‘Revoloesi Islam’, al-Djihad 24, 13 February 1946. In addition to several articles published
throughout the year 1946 (see, for example, ‘Revoloesi Islam’, 13 February and ‘Peperangan
sekarang soedah djadi fardoel ‘ain’, 20 April) the magazine also published boxes containing
advertising slogans such as SIAP sedia untuk berdjuang fiSabilillah, Djihad Sabil, Daroel Islam itoelah
toedjoean kita, Berdjihadlah! FiSabilillah!
87
by the party’s manifesto in June 1947,26 and maintained well into

1948,27 further strengthened by the temporary character of the
1945 constitution and by Soekarno’s pledge to establish a represen-
tative democracy. Masyumi accepted the Republican constitution
as a ‘stepping stone’ towards the realization of Islamic ideals in the
state; it recognized Pancasila’s harmony with Islamic principles;28
and it laid out its domestic and international agendas as a mixture
of mild pan-Islamism, democracy and spreading Islamic teach-
ings in Indonesian society through education and dakwah (Islamic
propaganda).29
In this spirit, over the following months al-Djihad often sug-
gested that Masyumi was the most prominent agent of Islamization
of the Republic, and that an Islamic state was the ‘logical’ solution
for Indonesia.
The magazine articulated its dedication to the formation of an
Islamic state as such:
If 33 years ago Islam was only a final coating, considered as just

enough to function as a link between organizations, now it is not
like that. This Masyumi has a 100% Islamic soul, the spiritual con-
nection among all Masyumi members is Allah’s religion, Masyumi’s
flag is the crescent and the star on a red and white background,
Masyumi’s aim is the darul Islam, or an Indonesian Republic based
on Islam.30
Regarding its commitment to parliamentary consultation, it held

that:
Now Indonesia is independent, and the Republic is shaped to be

based on the people’s authority. Although the Constitution does
not fulfill yet the desires of the Islamic community, for the time
being this is enough, and we are happy and grateful. But Masyumi
is aware that the majority of Indonesians are Muslims, and feels
26 ‘Rencana dari Masjoemi’, 20 June 1947, Arsip Kementrian Pertahanan 1946 [hereafter
KemPert], no. 1045, ANRI.
27 ‘Cursus Masjumi’, 27 April 1948, Arsip Kepolisian Negara 1947-1949 [hereafter KepNeg],
no. 514, Arsip Nasional Republik Indonesia [hereafter ANRI], Jakarta.
28 As the Pancasila were never modified, this became a common exercise for Muslim intel-
lectuals and scholars in the early 1950s.
29 Noer, ‘Masjumi: Its organization’, pp. 70-5.
30 ‘Masjoemi, toelang poenggoeng Republik Indonesia’, al-Djihad no. 26, 28 February 1946.
This was also worryingly reported by Dutch sources; see ANP-Aneta Bulletin, ‘Kentering in de
Masjoemi in Indische [archipel]’, Documentatie dienst van ANP-Aneta 10 October-27 Decem-
ber 1946, pp. 423-7.
88
responsible for their safety and feels obligated to provide them with
an Indonesian state based on Islam.31
The idea that the 1945 constitution was temporary was also sup-
ported by the belief that elections to form a new constitutional
assembly (konstituante) would be held soon after the Dutch left
the country. This new text, then, had to be drafted following ‘the
desires of the Islamic community’. It is on these foundations that
Masyumi intended to re-open the debate with the secular national-
ists whilst at the same time giving its support to Soekarno. Masyumi,
in fact, endorsed Soekarno’s representative-democratic system, and
it based its political opposition on the conviction that the party’s
large base would – given an electoral opportunity – affirm its politi-
cal standing and bring forward the necessary changes to establish
the Islamic state.
Although Kartosuwiryo’s Garut speech, Haloean politik Islam,
delivered in June 1946, affirmed mainstream Masyumi policies, his
name did not appear among the party’s executives at a meeting
held in Yogyakarta on 7 November 1946,32 perhaps anticipating the
fracture with the party board that would ensue later in 1947.
Kartosuwiryo’s Haloean politik Islam
The Dutch invasion of Java in July 1947 transformed the Priangan

into a theatre for total warfare and would push Kartosuwiryo to
abandon formal politics. But in mid 1946 he was still participating
in the political process in the rank and file of Masyumi, uphold-
ing the party’s commitment to parliamentary struggle, cooperation
and unity. Kartosuwiryo’s continuing dedication to the cause was
best expressed in a speech he delivered in July 1946 in Garut, later
printed by the Dewan Penerangan Masyumi Daerah Priangan (Pri-
angan regional Masyumi Information Office).33
After considering the differences between Western and Islamic
politics, the pamphlet then focuses on the strategy the ummah
should follow to ensure the attainment of God’s will on earth (the
dar al-Islam) and in the afterlife (the dar al-salam) in the specific his-
torical context of Indonesia’s struggle for independence. Following
31 ‘Gemeene Be(e)st kita sabil! Masjoemi haroes djadi Chalifah di Indonesia’, al-Djihad no. 26,
28 February 1946. The congress was held in Solo, on 13 and 14 February 1946.
32 Soekiman, Masjkoer, Zainoel Arifin, Djojomartmo, K.H. Abdoel Wahab, Oesman, Mawardi,
Soedjono and Dahlan. al-Djihad, 09 November 1946, appended in ‘Regerings Voorlichtings-
dienst, Government Information Service, D.N. 718’, [1946], APG no. 997, NA.
33 Kartosuwiryo, Haloean politik Islam (Garut: Dewan Penerangan Masjoemi, 1946).
89
a line of thought he had first set out in the late 1920s, Kartosuwiryo
insisted that Islam was equally concerned with worldly and eternal
salvation, and that only through the establishment of a dar al-Islam
could Muslims be guaranteed salvation and admission to the dar
al-salam.
The political efforts of the Indonesian ummah were aimed at the
establishment of an Indonesian republic based on Islam, in which
the government guaranteed the implementation of sharia law in
its widest and most complete formulation. Grounding the govern-
ment in sharia law would allow Indonesia’s Muslims to pursue their
obligations and would guarantee all Indonesians their freedom
from slavery.
Compared with the ideas contained in Kartosuwiryo’s writings
through the 1920s-1930s, there is nothing new in his describing
active participation in the effort to free Indonesia from foreign
imperialists as a ‘religious duty’. Surely, though, some change in
attitude is detectable, as he now encouraged the formation of a
unitary front, and supported the parliamentary avenue towards
establishing an Islamic state. Conscious of the fact that so many
skilled political parties were angling for primacy in the race to con-
trol the national government of the soon-to-be independent state,
Kartosuwiryo argued that constructive cooperation was the only
defence Indonesia had against civil war. Kartosuwiryo realized that
the ummah would have much competition in this race, and that it
was certainly possible that communism, socialism or nationalism
would win. As such, the ummah should strive to build a new world
in full conformity with the Qur’an – a dunia Islam or dar al-Islam.
He heavily condemned fanaticism, as it ‘easily threatens the unity
of the nation (persatuan bangsa) and the success of the struggle,
causing splits and betrayals unwished for at a time when all citizens
ought to feel compelled to join in the National Revolution’.
Kartosuwiryo preached the necessity of having ‘ideology’ to
work hand in hand with ‘reality’. For Kartosuwiryo, ‘ideology’ dic-
tated the goals of the effort, while ‘reality’ determined its means in
accordance with the current time and society:
An ideologically driven fighter never stops in his effort to reach

and achieve his ideal, maybe once he will appear as running back,
jumping right or left, flying west or east because the conditions and
reality of society do not allow for anything else, but […] in his eyes
and heart he never left his ideology.34
34 Kartosuwiryo, Haloean politik Islam, p. 12.
90
In this understanding, the national revolution was a struggle that

had to begin inside individual persons before it could move to
broader communal and societal contexts on the road to national
independence; this was true for Kartosuwiryo, whether the revolu-
tion were to be pursued by diplomacy or by weapons. No portion of
Indonesia’s population was relieved from its duty and responsibil-
ity to defend the country and build national sovereignty. But the
task that rested solely on the Muslims was the social revolution: a
struggle aimed at deconstructing colonialism from within society,
thereby effecting a change on the ummah itself. The broader social
revolution, however, could only be carried out by those who had
already succeeded in the revolution at the individual level and who
had fully conformed their souls to Islam.
To Kartosuwiryo, both the national and social revolutions – now
explicitly defined as al-jihad al-asghar and al-jihad al-akbar, respec-
tively – were necessary to eradicate colonialism by acting on exter-
nal (state and government) and internal (citizens’ souls) objects
of foreign domination. As stated above, modernists and tradition-
alists developed different strategies to achieve an Islamic state,
and Kartosuwiryo concluded that in the current context it would
be inappropriate to adhere to dogmatic divisions between social
and national revolutions. He suggested instead that the revolutions
should be pursued at the same time. Because ensuring de facto and
de jure independence was an urgent goal, Kartosuwiryo argued that
initially a stronger emphasis was to be placed on the national strug-
gle: the ummah would concentrate its efforts on supporting the
physical revolution, while delegating the social revolution to the
Islamic leadership. Only once the foreign oppressor had left and
Indonesia was free would the rest of the population be involved at
the social level.
After independence, the establishment of an Indonesian state
based on Islam could be achieved in either a top-down or a bottom-
up fashion, depending on the ummah’s level of representation in,
and influence on, national governing bodies. In the first scenario,
even though the executive bodies were not dominated by Muslims,
those involved in the legislature would have the duty to comply with
Islamic regulations, and thus would advance the formalization of an
Islamic government. Because of this possible discrepancy between
the legislative and the executive bodies, Kartosuwiryo argued in
favour of conducting military and political courses for the ummah
to ensure a high level of awareness and education at the grassroots
level. He also invoked unity and cooperation between ulama and
intellectuals, as the former knew the sharia and the latter the rules
of government.
91
In case this attempt to coordinate hukum, hakim and mahkum

(law, judge and sentence) at the national level failed, Kartosuwiryo
advanced an alternative strategy: the ummah, still responsible for the
implementation of Islamic law at the personal level, would create its
own dar al-Islam (note the similarity with the 1938 MIAI speech). Seen
as part and parcel of the individual revolution, the involvement of
the ummah in legal matters was the first step towards an Islamic social
revolution, also called an Islamic people’s revolution. It is this social
dimension of the ummah’s organization and mobilization that Karto-
suwiryo had in mind when he established the Darul Islam in 1948.
troop polarization in west java: republican army

and islamic militias from the british landing
to the renville agreement
While the leaders of the nationalist movement in Jakarta were busy

with diplomatic talks, Bandung and the Priangan were gradually
becoming the centres of a power struggle for regional control. In
May 1946 the Republican government began integrating and ratio-
nalizing irregular troops, with the goal of creating a unified army.
In the following paragraphs I lay out the premises of this attempt
at integration in West Java and the impact of this political decision
on the relations between regular soldiers and the Islamic militias.
Most skirmishes resulted from the scarcity of weapons; the Islamic
militias’ disapproval of Republican soldiers’ unwillingness to fight;
and the Republican soldiers’ grudges against the popular support
enjoyed by the Islamic militias.
This delicate balance between Republican and Islamic soldiers
was further upset by the Dutch invasion of West Java in July 1947.
Republican troops and Islamic militias scattered across the Priangan,
and as Masyumi was gaining increased footing in the territory, the
military confrontation became politicized, with the Republic accus-
ing Masyumi of attempting to become a substitute government. It is
in this context that Republican and Islamic troops clashed in Blubur
Limbangan and that Kartosuwiryo began the re-structuring of the
provincial branch of Masyumi under the name of Darul Islam.
Seeking a structure
The 3rd Division of the TKR (later to become the Siliwangi Divi-
sion of Tentara Negara Indonesia, TNI) was initially stationed in
92
Tasikmalaya under the leadership of Aroedji Kartawinata (a former

PSII cadre; see Chapter 1), but in late October 1945 – just before its
command was transferred to Nasution – the division was moved to
Malangbong for unspecified ‘political priorities’.35 Militias operat-
ing in the Bandung area had formed the Markas Dewan Pimpinan
Perdjoeangan (MDPP, Resistance Leadership Council Headquar-
ter) under the leadership of Soetoko (from Pesindo) and Kamran
(Hizboellah leader and future chief of the Tentara Islam Indone-
sia, TII) as early as January 1946, with the goal of countering the
impact of Nasution’s Republican troops.36
Having broader authority than any of the militia leaders, Nasu-
tion began to disarm the MDPP within a month of its formation. He
incorporated its soldiers into the TKR and expanded the authority
of his own army division. But Nasution did so without consider-
ing that the MDPP had been formed with the specific intention of
opposing the influence of Republican troops across the region. By
the end of February, Kamran and Soetoko formed another coor-
dinating body that was politically neutral and aimed at the estab-
lishment of Indonesia’s independence. The Majelis Persatoean
Perdjoeangan Priangan or Markas Pimpinan Perdjoeangan Prian-
gan (MPPP, Priangan Fighting Unity Council or Leadership Cen-
tre) was stationed in Bale Endah, near Ciparay, the most advanced
position Indonesian troops had managed to occupy in their strug-
gle for regional defence.37
In the meantime, British troops had begun their operation to
bring Java under control on behalf of the SEAC. After a few months
of long-distance attacks, on 20 March 1946 the 15th Indian Corps
of the British artillery heavily attacked the Bandung headquarters
of the Tentara Republik Indonesia (TRI, Army of the Indone-
sian Republic), a group composed largely of Nasution’s Siliwangi
35 Lukman Madewa, Esa hilang dua terbilang: Album kenangan Kodam 6/Siliwangi 1946-1977
(Bandung: Kodam 6, 1977), p. 24.
36 The MDPP was formed by Pesindo, Hizboellah, Sabilillah, Pemuda Indonesia Maluku,
Barisan Banteng and Kebaktian Rakyat Indonesia Sulawesi (Horikoshi, ‘The Dar-ul-Islam move-
ment’, p. 66) and Barisan Pemberontak Rakyat Indonesia (BPRI), Angkatan Pemuda Indone-
sia (API), Barisan Merah Putih, Lasjkar Wanita Indonesia (Lasjwi) (Usman Jauhari, ‘Peranan
Hizboellah-Sabilillah’, p. 43. John R.W. Smail, Bandung in the early revolution 1945-1946: A study
in the social history of the Indonesian revolution (Ithaca, NY: Department of Asian Studies Cornell
University, 1964) offers a detailed investigation of the events that occurred in Bandung between
1945 and 1946 based on Indonesian sources, Siliwangi’s military publications and the newspaper
Mederka. Madewa, Esa hilang dua terbilang, p. 24. refers to MDPP as Markas Daerah Perjuangan
Pertahanan Priangan.
37 Smail, Bandung in the early revolution, pp. 129-30, 143-5; Dinas Sedjarah Kodam VI Siliwangi,
Siliwangi dari masa ke masa (Jakarta: Fakta Mahjuma, 1968), p. 505; the second name, ‘Leader-
ship Centre’, is used in Jauhari, ‘Peranan Hizboellah-Sabilillah’, p. 42.
93
soldiers.38 Following these attacks, both Siliwangi troops and the

MPPP were forced to abandon their positions, allowing the Allies to
take control of the city. The MPPP established its new headquarters
in East Priangan, which, along with Cirebon, were the only areas
controlled by the Republic.
Following a British ultimatum, by the morning of 25 March
Nasution had led his TRI division out of Bandung and into Garut.
But he added that he ‘could not be responsible for extremist ele-
ments’.39 This note is quite significant, as it shows that the level
of friction between Nasution and the militias was high, as was his
frustration over his inability to control them. The colonel was refer-
ring to Hizboellah, Sabilillah and Pesindo militias, which he had
unsuccessfully tried to incorporate into his own division for several
months. Not only were these militias generally more skilled than
the majority of his regular troops, but - and more significantly -
Nasution was not confident his troops could successfully face the
Dutch by themselves, as suggested by Robert Cribb.40
The MDPP, too, had moved to Garut, but it had changed its
name to become the Resimen Tentara Perdjoeangan (RTP, Fight-
ing Army Regiment), under the exclusive leadership of Soetoko.
Within weeks, the RTP was placed under Nasution’s Siliwangi
Division’s command. Also in May 1946, one of its five battalions,
composed only of Hizboellah and Sabilillah soldiers and possibly
having its origins under Kamran’s command, now came under the
Command of Major Hoeseinsjah.41 This regiment had been able to
maintain independence of action for a full year, but by May 1947
38 On 5 October 1945 the president of the Indonesian Republic issued a statement for the
formation of the Tentara Keamanan Rakyat; this was transformed once again into the Ten-
tara Keselamatan Rakyat on 7 January 1946 and finally into the Tentara Republik Indonesia
on 24 January of the same year. See Jauhari, ‘Peranan Hizboellah-Sabilillah’, p. 50. Jakarta and
Bandung had been occupied by the 7th December Division on 27 August 1946; see MD, AS nos.
2220-2225, NA. For details of British troops movements and the substitution of British troops
with Dutch soldiers in Java and Sumatra, see ‘The Allied occupation of the Netherlands East
Indies, September 1945-November 1946’, War Office [hereafter WO] 203/2681; ‘War Diaries of
the 23rd Indian Division in Java, October 1945 to November 1946’, WO 203/6159; ‘War Diaries
of the 15th Indian Corps January-September 1946’, Foreign Office [FO 371/9791]; National
Archives of the United Kingdom, Kew [hereafter NAUK].
39 ‘War Diary, GS Branch, HQ 15 Indian Corps, summary of main events for March 1946’, FO
371/9791, NAUK; Madewa, Esa hilang dua terbilang, p. 24.
40 Horikoshi, ‘The Dar-ul-Islam movement’, p. 67; Robert Cribb, Gangsters and revolutionaries:
The Jakarta people’s militia and the Indonesian revolution 1945-49, Southeast Asia Publications Series
(Sydney: Allen & Unwin, 1991), pp. 163-6.
41 Jauhari, ‘Peranan Hizboellah-Sabilillah’, pp. 46, 53. The other battalions were composed of
BPRI/Garuda Hitam under Major Riva’i, Pesindo/Taruma Jaya under Major Sudarman and the
Bat. Gabungan under Major Pellupessy.
94
it was forced to become the 9th Regiment of the 2nd Brigade of

Nasution’s Siliwangi Division.42
Notwithstanding the Republican government’s efforts to incor-
porate irregular militias into the national army, the unification of
Siliwangi, Hizboellah and Sabilillah troops was far from happening
in reality. The integration and rationalization of irregular militias
that began in May 1946 had yet to be achieved by the end of 1947
thanks to widespread tensions and major conflicts.43 The order for
Hizboellah and Sabilillah troops to merge into the TNI National
Army was ratified by Soekarno on 2 January 1948 together with the
Renville Agreement, but most of the Islamic militias refused to fol-
low these orders and continued to act as separate armies.
A Pasoendan police report, dated October 1948, regarding
the arrest of a former Hizboellah soldier, and later TII lieutenant,
exemplifies the problems relating to the integration of Islamic mili-
tias into the national army: Doendoeng, originally from the Garut
area, had been part of the Japanese Peta, and after the capitula-
tion he had chosen to join Hizboellah to comply with what he felt
was his religious duty. During the rationalization process, Doen-
doeng was incorporated in Hoeseinsjah’s battalion and deployed
in Cibatu. Six months later he became a TRI lieutenant, soon to
be transferred to the Imam Bondjol battalion of the TNI. All this
happened despite his open refusal to join the secular Republican
forces. He eventually deserted the TNI and again joined Hizboel-
lah when the Islamic militias refused to withdraw to Central Java in
January 1948, thus becoming a member of the TII.44
Besides the tensions related to individual soldiers’ allegiances,
frequent skirmishes between Islamic and Republican troops were
taking place across the whole region, as the troops were becom-
ing increasingly polarized. The root of these clashes was Hizboellah
and Sabilillah’s frustration at seeing that TNI troops were better
armed but unwilling to fight, as they often abandoned the battle-
field, leaving Hizboellah and Sabilillah to face the Dutch. As high-
lighted in a 1946 police report, when faced with advancing NICA
troops, the TNI soldiers stationed in Cibeber retreated, even leav-
ing their weapons behind. Since Hizboellah and Sabilillah were in
the area, they picked up the carbines and guns that had belonged
to Republican troops and then resoundingly defeated the Dutch.
42 Madewa, Esa hilang dua terbilang, p. 25.

43 Abdul Haris Nasution, Sekitar perang kemerdekaan Indonesia, vol. 6 (Bandung: Angkasa,
1978), p. 474.
44 ‘Proces-Verbaal Doedoeng alias Soenardja, Kementerian Dalam Negeri Negara Pasoendan
Afdeeling Politie’, 16 October 1948, AABRI DI.
95
Yet the compiler notes that, on many occasions, retreating TNI

soldiers refused to hand their weapons over to Masyumi troops,
preferring instead to destroy them as a precaution, since Islamic
militias were being treated as enemies.45
These clashes increased in frequency and intensity throughout
1946 and 1947, especially after the Dutch invaded West Java in July
1947, and thus mirrored the political conflict between Masyumi
and Soekarno’s Republican government (discussed below).
The Linggadjati Agreement and the Dutch invasion: Implications

for national politics
The Republicans’ readiness to cooperate with the Dutch soon had

serious consequences, as several nationalists turned their backs on
Soekarno, Sjahrir and their contingencies. The single event that
most upset the fragile balance within the anti-colonial movement
was the Linggadjati Agreement, signed by Van Mook and the Indo-
nesian Prime Minister, Soetan Sjahrir, in November 1946. Though
KNIP eventually ratified it in 1947, the agreement was strongly
opposed by Islamic nationalists. The treaty established a ceasefire
and called for the formation of a federative United States of Indo-
nesia (with Java, Madura and Sumatra included de facto in Soek-
arno’s Republik Indonesia in Yogyakarta). The federation would be
part of the Netherlands-Indonesian Union and under the authority
of the Dutch Queen.
The pro-independence front was deeply fragmented among the
Islamic, socialist and Soekarnoist factions. However, as the Dutch
considered Soekarno, Hatta and Sjahrir to be representative of
the movement as a whole, Masyumi was granted less political space
than might have been expected from its popular support.46
At the end of 1946 Masyumi openly called for armed opposi-
tion against a Republican government that pursued overtly accom-
modationist policies. As announced in a letter sent to all Masyumi
branches and published in al-Djihad, Wahid Hasjim, Soekiman and
Zainal Arifin proclaimed their intention to ‘bring down the Indo-
nesian government with arms’.47
45 ‘Laporan tentang Masjoemi dengan Tentara, Kepala Bagian Penjelidik Republik Indonesia
Kantor Polisi Soekaboemi’, 20 August 1946, AAS no. 2746, NA.
46 Kahin, Nationalism and revolution, pp. 196 onwards; Ricklefs, A history, pp. 224-5. For a com-
plete analysis of the Federal State, see A. Arthur Schiller, The formation of federal Indonesia, 1945-
1949 (The Hague: Van Hoeve, 1955).
47 ‘Rapat raksasa Banteng R.I. di Malang, Kementrian Pertahanan Oeroesan A.L.R.I. Bag. C
Poesat Jogjakarta’, 7 January 1947, KemPert no. 188, ANRI.
96
Under such pressure, Sjahrir was forced to resign and Soekarno,

to form a new cabinet. In June and July 1947 Soekiman, who had been
included in the four-man team in charge of appointing new ministers,
demanded leadership of the cabinet and several key ministries for the
Islamic party. Soekarno refused to accommodate these demands, and
Masyumi withdrew from the cabinet, causing a stalemate only solved
in November with the formation of yet another cabinet.48
In the meantime, Kartosuwiryo had been invited to represent
PSII in the First Amir Sjarifoeddin Cabinet as junior Vice-Minister of
Defence. However, while his name was included on the official lists
drafted on 3-4 July, as well as on the list published by the press, he
never accepted the position.49 First, Soekiman, Salim, Kartosuwiryo
and Wondoamiseno had not yet completed their attempts to revive
the Partai Sarekat Islam Indonesia, thus leaving their relationship
with Masyumi undefined. Second, Masyumi was not participating in
the cabinet.50 Third, Sjarifuddin’s cabinet was strongly sympathetic
to socialist and communist policies, which did not go down well
with Kartosuwiryo.51 Finally, I would like to suggest that because the
Dutch invasion of July 1947 had led to the physical and political isola-
tion of West Java, Kartosuwiryo’s absence from the cabinet was con-
nected with his difficulties (and lack of interest) in joining the centre
of parliamentary power. Announcing that he ‘had not yet become
involved with the PSII and still felt committed to Masyumi’, Kartosu-
wiryo eventually declined Soekarno’s and Sjarifuddin’s offer.52
Despite the diplomatic achievements and a climate of relative
peace –acknowledged also by the British envoy to Java – on 20 July
1947 the Dutch launched their first military campaign on Repub-
lican territory, with the intention of occupying West Java, Madura
and Sumatra.53 The invading Dutch forces expanded from Bandung
48 Noer, ‘Masjumi: Its organization’, pp. 105-7.

49 ‘Het Republikeinsche Kabinet Sjarifuddin, IV Kabinet, 3 Juli 1947’, APG no. 731, NA; ‘Kabi-
net Sjarifuddin Ve Kabinet (4 Juli 1947-23 Jan 1948)’, APG no. 731, NA; ‘Kabinet – Sjarifuddin
Ve Kabinet (na wijziging op 11-11-1947)’, APG no. 731, NA; ‘Soesoenan kabinet baroe’, Merdeka,
4 July 1947.
50 ‘Partai Sarekat Islam Indonesia’, 19 Mei 1947, KemPert no. 1054, ANRI.
51 ‘Proces-verbaal van verhoor van R. Didi b.Uhap al.Tatang Bachtiar, Onderhoofd van het
Ministerie van Voorlichting van de Negara Islam Indonesia (NII); Parket van den Procureur-Gen-
eraal bij den Pengadilan Tinggi van de Negara Pasundan te Bandoeng’, 26 September 1949, AAS
no. 2755, NA; and Dinas Sejarah TNI, Penumpasan pemberontakan D.I./T.I.I., p. 59. This report of
the arrest of a Darul Islam member in 1948 mentions that Kartosuwiryo had refused to join the
Sjarifuddin cabinet because it was communist. As this might represent one aspect of the problem,
it should also be noted that some anti-communist politicians, including Haji Agoes Salim, joined
this cabinet in an effort to bring Indonesia out of its stalemate and to obtain full independence.
52 ‘Kartosuwiryo keberatan’, Merdeka, 8 July 1947.
53 ‘Bataljion genietroepen oorlogsdagboek nr B149/101.34’, MD: AS no. 2231, NA.
97
across north-eastern West Java in three directions (east, south-east

and south-west), pushing Indonesian soldiers and militias south of
Purwakarta, Subang, Sumedang and Majalengka.54
Regardless of the fact that a United Nations-sponsored cease-
fire had been signed in August, the consequences of the invasion
were strongly felt in the months to come. On 23 September Nether-
lands’ Prime Minister, Louis Beel, declared that one of the achieve-
ments of the politioneele actie (‘police action’), as the Dutch called
it, had been ‘the creation of better conditions for the execution of
the political plan of reconstruction laid down in the Linggadjati
Agreement’. In fact, Indonesian sources reported that consequent
to the invasion, ‘All the militias ha[d] left [their headquarters] to
reach the various areas of West Java to carry out, at their best, an
ideological struggle, sabotage and guerrilla actions.’ Rather than
supporting Beel’s rationale,55 such comments showed the irrepa-
rable political damage caused by the aggression.
Consequences for West Java

Dutch troops first arrived in West Java in March 1947 to relieve the
British in Cianjur, but connections between the western province
and the rest of the island were not severed until early July.56
As the Dutch entered Cirebon on 21 July, the Republican police
were forced to move south to Ciwaru. When in 1948 the area offi-
cially came under Dutch control, the police force was dissolved and
its agents offered the opportunity to work for the occupying forc-
es.57 This offer, however, was hardly an attractive choice, as it was
in fact the only alternative to a forced withdrawal to Yogyakarta or
final dismissal from the force. Facing two unsatisfactory options,
several officers in Cimahi and Indramayu fled to other villages or
to the mountains to avoid forced co-optation in the Dutch ranks.58
54 ‘Laporan keadaan Djawa Barat’, 28 July 1947, KemPert no. 1290, ANRI.
55 ‘Laporan keadaan Djawa Barat’, 28 July 1947, KemPert no. 1290, ANRI. Beel’s comment in
‘Political reconstruction in the Netherlands East Indies, Consul-General Shepherd to Mr. Bevin,
Batavia, 22 October 1947’, p. 79, FO 480/1, NAUK.
56 ‘Berita atjara tentang pelaporan R.Legino pembentoe Inspectour Polisian I dari Bandung,
RS Joedoprawiro Insp.Polisi II’, 30 March 1948, KepNeg no. 526, ANRI. The C division of the
7th December Brigade relieved the British W Brigade in Cianjur.
57 ‘Berita atjara tentang pelaporan R. Legino’, 30 March 1948, and ‘Berita atjara tentang
Djemino A.P. kl.I dari kantor Kepolisian Keresidenan Cirebon, RS Joedoprawiro Insp.Polisi II’,
24 March 1948, KepNeg no. 526, ANRI.
58 ‘Laporan perdjalanan anggauta Polisi Tjimahi A.P. Kl. I Selam CS dari daerah pendudukan
kedaerah Republiek, Mohamad Gondosoebroto’, 2 March 1948, KepNeg no. 534, ANRI; ‘Berita
atjara tentang Ngadiran pegawai Polisi Negara dari Indramaju’, 14 April 1948, KepNeg no. 526,
ANRI.
98
The Republican police from Bandung, having already been dis-

placed to Ciparay since March 1946, were on 28 July again forced to
move, this time to Bongkor (north of Garut), as the Dutch occupied
Majalaya and Ciparay. The fall of Leles and Garut in early August
caused them to move further to Wanaraja, whilst the Priangan
police (usually stationed in Garut) sought refuge in the surround-
ing mountains, but only after being ordered to destroy all high-rise
buildings they encountered en route.59 As the Dutch advance from
Tasikmalaya had compromised their retreat to Cilawu, the Priangan
police did not reach Mount Cikurai until late September, where
they hid until Dutch troops found them in mid November 1947.60
By now military tensions in West Java had become distributed
among the invading Dutch troops, regular Republican Siliwangi
soldiers, and those splinters of Sabilillah and Hizboellah militias
that had refused to merge with the Republican Army. Despite their
rapid expansion, the Dutch lacked territorial control beyond the
Cirebon residency. The Republicans had equally limited control, as
they ruled only over Liangjulang (Kadipaten). It was Masyumi and
its militias that controlled most of the region, with strongholds in
the Indramayu and Majalengka regions.61
In the Priangan, Masyumi was gradually positioning itself as –
and assuming the functions of – a local independent government,
attracting the attention of the Dutch resident Van der Harst, as
well as of Tasikmalaya’s chief of police, Said Soerianatanegara.62
Masyumi implemented a taxation system in the areas around Indi-
hiang, Mount Cupu and Cisayong in order to buy weapons and sup-
plies for its troops. In addition, the Islamic militias were in the habit
of bartering food supplies with starving TNI soldiers in exchange
for carbines and guns, as shortages of weapons were occurring
across the region.63
According to Soerianatanegara, Masyumi’s army (namely, Sabi-
lillah and Hizboellah) had as a final goal the establishment of a
59 ‘Berita atjara tentang pelaporan Soekami Commissaris Polisi dari Bandung, RS Joedo-
prawiro Insp.Polisi II’, 27 March 1948, KepNeg no. 526, ANRI; ‘Laporan, Effendi Ardipradja’,
24 February 1948, KepNeg no. 534, ANRI.
60 ‘Laporan, Doelkarnaen’, 16 February 1948, KepNeg no. 526, ANRI.
61 ‘Laporan rahasia Kepolisian Keresidenan Tjirebon’, 14 November 1947, Arsip Kabinet
Presiden 1950-1959 [hereafter KabPres], no. 1926, ANRI.
62 ‘Perihal politieke situasi, Kantor Polisi Tasikmalaya’, 9 December 1947, KepNeg no. 495,
ANRI.
63 ‘Laporan tentang keadaan didaerah Tasikmalaya Utara, Kantor Polisi Tasikmalaya’,
23 December 1947, and ‘Perihal keadaan di Tasikmalaya, Kantor Polisi Tasikmalaya’, 12 Decem-
ber 1947, KepNeg no. 495, ANRI; ‘Politiek-Economisch Verslag betreffende de Residentie Pri-
angan over de maand November 1947, AMK: Rapportage Indonesië 1945-1950 [hereafter RI],
no. 327, NA.
99
‘New State’ (Negara Baru) that would be under the patronage of the
Islamic party: ‘Until the government comes under Masyumi leader-
ship, there will be no order.’64
The Limbangan incident and the nature of the antagonism among

Islamic, Republican and Dutch troops
Continuing the pattern already established in 1946, between Sep-

tember and December 1947 Islamic militias and regular Siliwangi
soldiers clashed often in their quest for weapons65 and in reaction
to the movements of Dutch troops.66 As the ceasefire agreement
did not require them to withdraw from the positions occupied dur-
ing their invasion, Dutch troops were stationed all along the line
connecting Bandung, Sumedang, Majalengka and Linggadjati.
In September, Endang, the Sabilillah leader in Blubur Lim-
bangan (a village near Cicalengka, Sumedang), had organized a
propaganda meeting in Cibuleg. During his speech at the meet-
ing, Endang made some negative comments about the Indonesian
Republic, arguing that Sabilillah had to channel its forces towards
demolishing the Republic, thereby reinforcing Masyumi’s state-
ment made in December 1946. Such comments quickly altered
the spirits of some TNI soldiers in Sentot’s battalion, who also hap-
pened to be attending the meeting, and who felt threatened and
offended. Endang and eight of his assistants were thus captured,
and the Republican officers agreed that Endang and two of his
aides had to be killed under the accuse of treason. The villagers
witnessing the events became convinced of the gravity of Endang’s
statements, agreed on the punishment, apologized for participat-
ing at the Sabilillah meeting and swore allegiance to the Republic.67
At the end of the month, Dutch troops attacked the village of
Blubur Limbangan and occupied it. Coincidentally, the Sabilil-
lah group led by Endang’s brother was also in the area. To avenge
the execution of his brother, Wiganda struck an agreement with
the Dutch. Ten days later, several Siliwangi soldiers deployed in
the Garut area were summoned to Blubur Limbangan to receive
orders. Soon after their arrival, they were made aware that the
64 ‘Laporan tentang keadaan didaerah Tasikmalaya Utara’, 23 December 1947, KepNeg
no. 495, ANRI.
65 ‘Politiek-Economisch Verslag betreffende de Residentie Priangan over de periode 1 tot en
met 15 September 1947’, AMK: RI, no. 327, NA.
66 ‘Politiek Economisch Verslag betreffende de Residentie Priangan over de maand October
1947’, AMK: RI, no. 327, NA.
67 ‘[untitled] folio 7 no. 03409’, AABRI DI.
100
Dutch were about to attack, and to limit the damage inflicted on

the civilian population, the TNI dispersed. That same night, the
weapons of a local Sabilillah battalion were seized, and two men
were found dead. As feelings on the Endang case were still heated,
the Sabilillah joined forces with the Dutch troops to capture the
Siliwangi officer in charge.
By the time the skirmishes were over, around 350 Masyumi/
Sabilillah members had been arrested in the neighbouring vil-
lage of Baeud, and the Sabilillah soldiers who had managed to
escape joined the Dutch troops. A few days later, a Dutch-Sabi-
lillah patrol of 450 men organized a kidnapping operation in
Baeud, which ended in the death of all those captured. The vic-
tims, however, were not Siliwangi soldiers, but included Social-
ist Party members, a Banteng member, a man from the regional
inspectorate of Limbangan, civil servants and employees of the
Ministry of Forestry.
According to TII lieutenant Syarif Hidayat, in the beginning
the Hizboellah were fighting against the Dutch ‘colonialists’
in support of Soekarno’s August 1945 Proclamation. On these
grounds, they were incorporated in the Imam Bonjol Battalion of
the Republic’s TNI. However, Syarif Hidayat vividly recollects TNI’s
attacks against Hizboellah and Sabilillah soldiers in the Garut and
Sumedang areas, and in particular how the events surrounding
the killing of Endang had diminished the trust of former Islamic
militias in the TNI and the other agencies of the Republic. Inevi-
tably, within a couple of months the chain of events and retalia-
tions spiraled out of control, and clashes spread to Leuwingoong,
Malangbong, Pagerageung, Gunung Cupu and the area surround-
ing Sumedang.68
The primary aim of Siliwangi, Sabilillah and Hizboellah troops
was the annihilation of colonial power in the archipelago. It is
undeniable, though, that friction between Republican and Islamic
troops, as well as between secular and religious nationalists, played
an important role in directing actions and policies for the next
two decades. When in 1962 the Siliwangi Division was conducting
sweeps in West Java to cleanse the area of DI-TII soldiers, several
of those captured would look back at Blubur Limbangan as the
event that had initially set off the antagonism between Islamic and
Republican troops. As such, this incident helps us understand how
much the dynamics on the ground were dictated by opportunity
and necessity, rather than ideology – the latter a concern only the
leaders could afford.
68 ‘[untitled] folio 7 no. 03409’, AABRI DI.
101
West Java on the eve of the Renville Agreement
By the end of 1947 the police had singled out Sabilillah troops in
Pagerageung and Tasikmalaya as the most fanatic,69 and had identi-
fied Pagerageung as their military headquarters and Sukawening
as their propaganda and political hub. This was the same village
where Kartosuwiryo was organizing the party’s activities, and Oni
coordinated the activities of the Sabilillah.70
The first step towards Masyumi’s ‘New State’, was undertaken
by the proclamation of a ‘Sabilillah Safety Zone’ (Sabilillah
Keamanan Daerah) on 18 December by a Sabilillah unit which
had to relocate to Rancabungur (Indihiang) after Dutch attacks
on the Sukawening centre had caused the scattering of Islamic
militias across the region.71 This initiative further reinforced the
Republican government’s impression that in the Priangan the
population did not recognize Republican authority and instead
supported Masyumi.
In theory the Republican authority and Masyumi should not
have been in competition with each other. However, the ten-
sions arising from the Republic’s negotiations with the Dutch and
Masyumi’s commitment to building an Islamic state inevitably
resulted in them setting their agendas on separate registers. Soeri-
anatanegara went as far as accusing the Islamic party of challeng-
ing the Republic at the political and military levels, as Masyumi
had been openly discrediting TNI troops whilst praising the brav-
ery of Hizboellah and Sabilillah. Civilians reportedly trusted the
Islamic militias more than TNI troops, as it appears that the latter
often ran away from combat situations with Dutch soldiers, leaving
the fighting to the Islamic militias. Soerianatanegara’s explanation
was that as civilians were generally more sympathetic to religious
militias, these militias were better fed and better armed than the
Republic’s.72
The rise of Islamic politics in the Priangan can only be under-
stood in the context of the complex nature of religious and politi-
cal authority at the time, as explored in Chapter 1. But Sarekat
Islam’s and Masyumi’s political activism and commitment to the
formation of a politically conscious ummah was a key catalyst for
69 ‘Perihal keadaan di Tasikmalaya’, 12 December 1947, KepNeg no. 495, ANRI.

no. 495, ANRI.
71 ‘Perihal keadaan di Tasikmalaya’, 12 December 1947, KepNeg no. 495, ANRI.
no. 495, ANRI.
102
popular support and engagement, besides traditional patterns of

authority.73
According to a Ministry of Defence survey, in the Priangan only
the members of Masyumi had a full understanding of the current
political situation – here defined as ‘total war’ – and clear expecta-
tions for the path ahead, as they were awaiting the call for perang
sabil that would bring Indonesia to independence.74 It is in this
ideological, military, political and social context that Kartosuwiryo
carried out the transformation of Masyumi’s West Java division into
the Darul Islam movement.
ideological radicalization: calling for holy war
The physical isolation of West Java from Republican territories

caused by the Dutch invasion in July 1947 laid the foundations for
the region’s divergent political path to independence, a phenome-
non further strengthened by the Renville Agreement. The increas-
ingly ideological characterization of the antagonism between the
Republic in Yogyakarta and West Java’s regional politics paralleled
the polarization of troops on the ground. In the wake of previous
Masyumi calls for holy war against the Dutch, in mid August 1947
Kartosuwiryo yet again invoked perang sabil for Muslims in West
Java. This call was followed in late September by a national call for
jihad fi-sabilillah proclaimed by the central branch of Masyumi.
Kartosuwiryo’s Perang sabil
Marking a dramatic change from his Haloean politik Islam speech, in

Perang sabil Kartosuwiryo called upon ‘the ummat Islam that feels it
a duty to establish a dar al-Islam and fully implement hukum Islam’
to rise up against all enemies of religion and the state, the Dutch
(Fir’aun Belanda), its NICA employees and Indonesian spies.
73 The police reported that local Masyumi leaders were trying to strengthen their member-
ship’s approval by holding public and closed meetings to reinforce the attendants’ knowledge of
Islam. See ‘Laporan tentang keadaan didaerah Karesidenan Priangan, Kantor Kepolisian Kares-
idenan Priangan’, received on 28 February 1948, KepNeg no. 495, ANRI.
74 ‘Kementerian Pertahanan bagian Perantara Warta dan Publikasi, Ichtisar Laporan no. 5,
Daerah Priangan, so’al Totalitaire Oorlog’, November 1947, KemPert no. 1073, ANRI. Accord-
ing to this report, members of Pesindo, PPN, PPI and the teachers’ organization had very little
consciousness of the current situation, whilst members of the socialist and nationalist (PNI)
parties and a number of civil servants were mostly aware of the situation but did not understand
its implications and consequences.
103
Unity and cooperation were no longer under consideration,

the secular nationalists were still entertaining diplomatic relations
with the aggressive Dutch, and Republican elements were not quite
friends and not quite foes. True ‘friends of the struggle’ were those
who shared the goal of a national revolution aimed at establishing
an Indonesian state free from colonial domination, regardless of
their religious beliefs or political inclinations.
Kartosuwiryo affirmed his hopes that the Indonesian Republic
would conform to Islamic ideology in order that it could be part
of the dar al-Islam (or dunia Islam) in the form of an Islamic state
implementing Islamic laws among its citizens, and thus ensuring
their worldly and eternal salvation. Yet he was still open to the pos-
sibility that, following the revolution, national authority could be
in the hands of other political groups that were representative of
whichever ideology the population supported in larger numbers.75
Continuing to draw parallels with Muhammad’s struggle, Kar-
tosuwiryo associated the Dutch with the Quraysh, Soekarno with
the Banu Bakr tribe, and the Linggadjati Agreement with the treaty
of Hudaibiyah (628 CE).76 In such a framework, the breach of the
Hudaibiyah treaty, Muhammad’s attack on Mecca and the ummah’ s
subsequent victory over the polytheistic Arab tribes became the key
to interpreting the breach of Linggadjati as an opportunity that
legitimized the establishment of a fully sovereign and independent
Islamic state. This Negara Islam Indonesia would result from the
ummah’s commitment to taking up arms in a perang sabil, as jihad
represented the ummah’s effort to build and defend its state and
religion.
Recognizing the mixed origins of the term perang sabil, Karto-
suwiryo underlined how the Indonesian word perang was attached
to the Arabic sabil ‘path, way’ as the shortened version of fi-sabil-
illah, ‘on the path of God’. This meant ‘a war for the defence of
the sovereignty of the state, and the purity of religion, a war to
fight any attempt to colonization from any nation in any way’. Per-
ang sabil (thus meaning ‘war on the path (of God)’) or perang suci
(‘holy war’, also bearing the connotation of ‘cleansing, purifying’)
75 ‘Keterangan ringkas tentang Perang Sabil S.M. Kartosuwiryo’, Arsip Jogja Documenten
1946-1948 [hereafter JogjaDoc] no. 243, ANRI.
76 The treaty of Hudaibiyah was signed in 628 CE by Muhammad and the Quraysh tribe,
from which Muhammad himself hailed. The treaty gave individuals and tribes the freedom to
choose whether to side with the Quraysh or the Muslims, and allowed Muslims to perform the
pilgrimage to Mecca in safety. The following year, the Banu Bakr clan, an ally of the Quraysh,
attacked members of the Khuza’a tribe, an ally of Muhammad. Following this breach of the
treaty, Muhammad gave the Quraysh three options, from which they chose to end the treaty,
hence paving the way for Muhammad’s attack on Mecca.
104
were identified as specific cases of jihad fi-sabilillah, for which all

connected actions were to be pursued with trust in God (tawakkal
Allah), and purity of heart and belief (i’tiqad).77
Although it is likely that on this occasion Kartosuwiryo acted
on his personal initiative, soon afterwards the central board of
Masyumi followed his lead. In late September 1947, former PSII
commissar for sharia and ’ibada Kiyai Taoefiqoerachman declared
the independence struggle a jihad fi-sabilillah obligatory for all Mus-
lims. He went further, and, mirroring Kartosuwiryo’s definition of
‘friends of the struggle’, the kiyai argued that in addition to those
future martyrs who were fighting ‘fi sabilillah’ to defend Islam, the
nation and the territory, there were also those who did not seek
the implementation of sharia, but desired to exhibit their bravery,
were hot-tempered or simply sought external praise. Making ref-
erences to Islamic traditions, the text argued that ‘whoever fights
to enhance Islam fights on the path of God’, even if Islam is not
their religion. Like Kartosuwiryo, Masyumi supported cooperation
between Islamic fighters and unbelievers, as long as the latter did
not cause harm to the former.78
Kartosuwiryo’s ‘holy war’
In Kartosuwiryo’s writings, the Arabic root j.h.d. assumed several

meanings. He strongly opposed Western understandings of jihad as
‘war’, and thus of Islam as a religion only spread by warfare. In his
1936 Sikap hidjrah, Kartosuwiryo recorded all Qur’anic verses that
referred to jihad, explaining each specific asbab al-nuzul (context of
revelation) and the term’s multiplicity of meanings. Kartosuwiryo
focused on the difference between the lesser and greater jihad,
arguing for their respective ‘negative’ and ‘positive, constructive’
natures. In this context, Sarekat Islam’s Program djihad was to be
understood as a ‘Program for the greater jihad’, an effort based
on iman and aimed at a successful hijrah by pursuing, searching
and obtaining God’s mercy and blessing (mengharap, mencari,
mendapatkan Rahmat dan Ridhlo). This strategy was divided between
the individual duty for each Muslim to study tauhid and the com-
munity’s efforts, channelled through the party, to achieve political,
economic and social improvement. The early spirit of Sarekat Islam
was recalled as the basis of this twofold focus:
77 ‘Keterangan ringkas tentang Perang Sabil S.M. Kartosuwiryo’, JogjaDoc no. 243, ANRI.
78 ‘Pengumuman ke-I Majelis Sjuro Pusat’ by Kyai H. Abdul Wahab and Kiyai Taufiqurach-
man, 27 September 1947, JogjaDoc no. 243, ANRI.
105
Since its birth, Partai Sarekat Islam Indonesia (from its origins as
Sarekat Dagang Islam to Sarekat Islam until today), has strived to
improve the lives and livelihood of the people […] because a politi-
cal movement, especially an Islamic political movement, has to take
care of, and regulate, economics […] as these two matters [Islam
and economics] must become one.79
A decade later, in Haloean politik Islam, the jihad al-asghar is identi-

fied with the national revolution, and it is a fard al-‘ayn. Here Kar-
tosuwiryo is ambiguous on the means for undertaking this jihad.
The effort is referred to once as jihad fisabilillah bi ma’na al qital wa
al-ghazwa (‘struggle on the way of God in terms of fighting and raid-
ing’); another time both armed conflict and diplomacy are listed as
valid means for achieving independence. Yet, by September 1947
Kartosuwiryo had dramatically reduced jihad’s much wider seman-
tic field, only retaining its ‘warfare’ meaning.
Kartosuwiryo’s narrowing of the meaning of the term jihad
through his writings, from Sikap hidjrah to Haloean politik Islam and
Perang sabil, was prompted by the changing context in West Java. As
first mentioned in Haloean politik Islam, armed jihad in response to
an attack on the ummah was the only way to establish a fully inde-
pendent darul Islam or Negara Islam Indonesia that implemented
hukum Islam. The Dutch aggression provided the needed political
expedient.
Government reception of Masyumi’s and Kartosuwiryo’s calls

for a jihad
The declarations encouraging holy war made by Kartosuwiryo and

Taoefiqoerachman caught the attention of the Minister of Defence
in Yogyakarta, who, incidentally, occupied the position that had
been previously offered to Kartosuwiryo. The calls for jihad gar-
nered some positive feedback and indicated that elements of the
army and the government were supporting the Islamic struggle,
not just as part of the anti-colonial effort but also as a broader ideol-
ogy. Some support came from Major Kasman Singodimedjo, a for-
mer Peta battalion commander, president of the KNIP in Jakarta,
Indonesian Procureur Generaal in January 1946, current head of the
Defence Ministry’s office for military justice and future cabinet
minister for Masyumi. Singodimedjo argued that the darul Islam
ideology was a ‘straightaway right’ of the Indonesian Islamic com-
79 Kartosuwiryo, Sikap hidjrah PSII.
106
munity and an indirect right for the government, which had to fol-
low the will of the people. Political participation was a right for the
Islamic parties that fought in Indonesia, but religion was in and of
itself a right for the entire Islamic community.
Singodimedjo also commented that since Asj’ari’s call for jihad
in 1945, not only had the Markas Oelama Angkatan Perang Sabil
in Yogyakarta followed suit, but several other individuals had also
issued calls for a ‘holy war’.80 The collective enthusiasm for holy war
raised two major concerns. First, Singodimedjo argued, ‘the time
for a general call for holy war was close’. And second, it was still
unclear who had the authority to proclaim this ‘total’ jihad. Accord-
ing to Singodimedjo, politically speaking, the authority should
belong to the president as the leader of the KNIP, even though
in a strictly religious context this would have been the duty of the
imam and his majelis syuro. However, the president had not been
recognized as imam, and Islamic parties were deeply involved in
politics; Singodimedjo argued that in this situation a ‘total’ perang
sabil seemed unlikely, thus empowering local leaders.
Kartosuwiryo’s call for jihad was therefore fully acceptable in
religious terms. Furthermore, considering Kartosuwiryo’s position
as a guerrilla leader in an occupied area, the central government
could not ‘do anything other than thanking Allah, the One and
Only God of the Indonesian Republic, because among his sons are
some men as brave and courageous as Kartosuwiryo’.81
concluding remarks
In the aftermath of the Japanese surrender, Soekarno’s vision for

creating an Indonesian state sidelined, in the name of urgency
and necessity, Islamic and leftist requests to consider alternative
approaches. It was within this context that the Pancasila gained
political favour against Islam and that the ‘Jakarta Charter’ was
80 Maj. Singodimedjo only mentions the Markas Ulama Angkatan Perang Sabil and Kartosu-
wiryo. However, I have counted at least four other official acceptances of Hasyim Asy’ari’s call,
as noted above: the NU congress in Surabaya (October 1945); the motion proposed by the
Kaoem Moeslimin Indonesia Angkatan Senjata at the Masyumi congress of Yogyakarta (Novem-
ber 1945); the Moektamar Islam in Bukittingi (December 1945); and the NU congress in Pur-
wokerto (March 1946). To these I would like to add the al-Djihad magazine’s propaganda in 1946
and the establishment of the Sabilillah fighting corps (November 1945), both indicators of the
surging interest in pursuing an Islamic armed struggle.
81 ‘Pendapatan saja tentang pernjataan Perang Sabil oleh S.M. Kartosuwiryo’, Letter from
Gen. Maj. R. Kasman Singodimedjo to Vice-Minister of Defence, Yogyakarta, 22 October 1947,
JogjaDoc no. 243, ANRI.
107
dropped from the constitution’s preamble. Yet, as the 1945 text

was to be ‘temporary’, the religious faction was hopeful that things
could still be changed.
Whilst political Islam had lost ground at the national level,
Masyumi and its armed wings continued to gain considerable sup-
port in the Priangan, at both the military and political levels. The
Dutch invasion of West Java in July 1947 and the subsequent dip-
lomatic talks further strengthened this trend, pushing West Java
towards independent developments and transforming it into a
stronghold of the Islamic nationalist movement. Sabilillah and
Hizboellah troops controlled the region, challenging the Dutch
as much as the Republican soldiers. Both Kartosuwiryo and the
national Masyumi leadership proclaimed a holy war and demanded
the establishment of an Islamic state.
108
4
Building the Islamic state

From ideal to reality (1947-1949)
After much preparation, during the 20th gathering of the Dewan Ima-
mah in Cimampang, with the attendance of Kartosuwiryo, K.H. Gozali
Toesi, Sanoesi Partawidjaja, Raden Oni, and Toha Arsjad, on 7 August
1949 the Negara Islam Indonesia is officially proclaimed with the words:
Proclamation of the Establishment of the Islamic State of Indonesia [NII],
Dengan Nama Allah, Jang Maha Esa dan Jang Maha Asih,
we, the Islamic Community of the Indonesian Nation
announce the establishment of the Negara Islam Indonesia.
And the law that governs the NII is Islamic Law.1
The 1947 invasion of West Java pushed Masyumi to proclaim resis-

tance against the Dutch a jihad obligatory for all Muslims. Following
the discord over the Linggadjati Agreement Sjahrir was forced to
resign, then Masyumi refused to join Sjarifuddin’s ‘socialist’ cabinet,
and by late September tensions could no longer be confined to the
political field, as they spilled out among the population and onto the
battlefield. The violence that had dotted West Java throughout 1946-
47 further escalated, even as the Indonesian Republic in Yogyakarta
and the Dutch embarked on another round of diplomatic talks.
The Renville Agreement, signed by Van Mook and Sjarifuddin
on 17 January 1948, was the outcome of heavy pressure from the
United States and the United Nations. The international commu-
nity had been lobbying to find a diplomatic end to the impasse
caused by the military invasion on Java and Sumatra and to estab-
lish a roadmap for Indonesia’s self-government. The agreement
established that West Java (with the exception of the Banten area)
and the easternmost part of Java (including Surabaya and Malang)
would be officially controlled by the Dutch, whilst the rest of the
island would constitute the territory of the Indonesian Republic.2
1 Qanun asasy Negara Islam Indonesia, AABRI DI no. 9.

2 ‘Situation in Indonesia truce agreement and “Renville” principles, Consul-General Shep-
herd to Mr. Bevin’, in Correspondence part 2 January to December 1948, p. 3 onwards, FO
480/2, NAUK.
The separation of West Java from the Republican territory and

the presence of Hizboellah and Sabilillah troops beyond the Van
Mook demarcation line were crucial to the further shaping of the
Darul Islam and Tentara Islam Indonesia in the early months of
1948. West Java was coming under Masyumi’s control, and the
Republican police (Kepolisian Negara)accused the Islamic party
of challenging the Republic on the political and military levels.
These accusations were formulated at the same time as the West
Java branch of the Islamic party was gradually being transformed
into the Darul Islam organization.3 Kartosuwiryo’s decision to pur-
sue this transformation resulted from a combination of factors:
the Dutch increase in activity in the Priangan between the end of
December 1947 and mid January 1948;4 the withdrawal of TNI Sili-
wangi soldiers from West Java to Yogyakarta to be completed by
March 1948; the Islamic militias’ refusal to evacuate the region and
their merger into one umbrella organization; the tensions between
the TNI and the militias in the weeks leading up to the withdrawal;
the scarcity of available weaponry; and the broad popular support
for the Islamic militias. These factors strongly contributed to the
shaping of the anti-Dutch resistance in West Java as an Islamic
movement under Kartosuwiryo’s leadership.
This chapter follows the formation of the Islamic State of Indone-
sia, from its initial conception in late 1947 to the proclamation of its
establishment in August 1949, paying a great deal of attention to the
interaction between the Darul Islam and Soekarno’s Republic. The
material is thus arranged chronologically, identifying four phases in
this process. The first phase stretched from November 1947 until
May 1948, when Kartosuwiryo, Oni and Kamran unified Hizboellah
and Sabilillah into one Islamic Army, giving initial shape to the Darul
Islam organization as a defence movement that sought the coopera-
tion of the Republican Army (until its withdrawal from West Java),
and led the expansion of Darul Islam control over the Priangan.
The next phase covers the second half of 1948, when the Darul
Islam formed a ministerial cabinet, marking the transformation
3 As early as December 1947, Said Soerianatanegara (vice-chief of police in North Tasik)

pointed out that Masyumi was increasingly resembling an independent state in the Priangan,
undermining the authority of the Republic; see ‘Perihal: Politieke situasi’, 9 December 1947,
KepNeg no. 495, ANRI.
4 In their effort to bring the region under control, the Royal Netherlands Indies Army had
targeted several villages around Kuningan and Tasikmalaya. A detailed description of the attacks
can be found in ‘Laporan tentang keadaan didaerah Karesidenan Priangan, Kantor Kepolisian
Karesidenan Priangan’, 28 February 1948, KepNeg no. 495, ANRI. For reports of how the Dutch
ransacked civilians’ houses, stole livestock and bombarded villages, see ‘Politiek-Economisch
Verslag betreffende de Residentie Priangan over de maand December 1947’, 2 February 1948,
AMK:RI no. 328, NA. Sabilillah also took revenge on those who did not support Masyumi; see
‘Laporan tentang keadaan didaerah Karesidenan Priangan, Kantor Kepolisian Karesidenan Pri-
angan’, 28 February 1948, KepNeg no. 495, ANRI.
110
4 Building the Islamic state |
of the Majelis Oemmat Islam from a socio-political movement to

a government body. During this time, Kartosuwiryo released the
Constitution of the NII. With Muhammad and Medina as his mod-
els, Kartosuwiryo chartered a country – the Negara Islam Indonesia
– built around the authority of a leader who embraced the spiri-
tual, political and military legacy of the Prophet. It ought to be
noted that at this point the NII still sought to collaborate with the
Yogyakarta Republic, sharing the common goal of national inde-
pendence. It was not until the third phase, from the second Dutch
invasion in December 1948 to the Roem-Van Royen Agreement in
May 1949 that frictions emerged, eventually leading to the antago-
nism between the Islamic Army and Siliwangi soldiers and to their
ultimate parting of ways.
The last phase analysed here covers the August 1949 proclama-
tion of the Islamic State of Indonesia as a political entity indepen-
dent from Soekarno’s Republic. This phase thus also takes a look at
the first attempts of the Masyumi-led cabinet to negotiate with Kar-
tosuwiryo. In fact, despite the continued antagonism on the battle-
field, Natsir and some TNI commanders showed sympathy for the
Darul Islam, and throughout 1949 the Masyumi-led cabinet strongly
supported a political solution to the ‘Darul Islam problem’.
groundwork (november 1947-may 1948)
Imagining the Islamic state (November 1947-January 1948)

The first step in the formation of an Islamic resistance organiza-
tion and an Islamic army in West Java – later to be known as Darul
Islam, Tentara Islam Indonesia and Negara Islam Indonesia – was
probably taken in late 1947, when Kartosuwiryo, as vice-president
of Masyumi for West Java, called for a conference to re-organize
the party’s constituency.5 Masyumi’s membership in the province
5 According to ‘Negara Islam’, Territoriaal Troepencommandant West Java, 12 June

1948, APG no.  997, NA, this meeting took place in September 1947; according to
‘Majelis Oemat Islam’, ‘C’ Divisie ‘7 December’, 12 August 1948, APG no. 997 NA,
and Centrale Militaire Inlichtingendienst [hereafter CMI] Publication no. 91, 29 Sep-
tember 1948, AAS no. 3977, NA, this meeting instead took place in November 1947.
The Islamic community of West Java was also being organized within the context of the cre-
ation of the state of Pasoendan (itself part of the scheme for a Republik Indonesia Serikat (RIS,
Federal Republic of Indonesia), as in mid October the Islam Conference established the dewan
agama (religious council) and dewan al-Islam (Islamic council), which included a mahkama Islam,
penghulu hakim, hakim nikah (Islamic court, Islamic judge. and marriage officer, respectively),
and an educational division, thus covering all needs of the ummah. ‘Islamic conference of West
Java’, 26-29 November 1947, AAS no. 3405, NA; this was followed by a similar initiative in East
Java.
111
was divided into five regional branches – Priangan, Banten, Jakarta,

Bogor and Cirebon –, each sub-divided into provincial and village-
level branches (cabang and anak cabang, respectively). The cabang-
Garut was at the centre of the party’s initial transformation in the
region, a fact made clear when it changed its name into Majelis (or
Dewan) Pertahanan Oemmat Islam (MPOI/DPOI, or Islamic Com-
munity’s Defence Council).
In order to integrate different constituents into a single body,
the party’s multiple armed wings, including Sabilillah, Hizboel-
lah, Gerakan Pemoeda Islam Indonesia (GPII, Indonesia’s Mus-
lim Youth Movement) and other youth groups, were merged into
a single army, the Tentara Islam Indonesia.6 Around the same
time, Kartosuwiryo and his aides added a new article to the par-
ty’s programme to further stress the adjustments necessary under
their current state of war and struggle, namely, that they had
the duty to ‘defend [the territory] from the attacks of the Royal
Army’.7 Though the TII had become a reality both on paper and
as a military body for Kartosuwiryo and his lieutenants, soldiers
themselves had not yet been organized around a comprehensive
strategy.
In accordance with the Renville Agreement, TNI troops were
ordered to evacuate West Java by the end of February 1948. In the
weeks between the signing of the agreement and the beginning of
the withdrawal, Republican and Islamic soldiers often clashed. Ten-
sions were inflamed by a number of factors, including the troops’
different attitudes to combat and their scarcity of weapons, as
already discussed. Islamic soldiers accused TNI soldiers of ‘sitting
around’, waiting to withdraw without engaging in battle, and of not
making good use of their rifles, whilst the Sabilillah and Hizboellah
militias were exposing themselves to harm even without the appro-
priate equipment.8
Feeling the need to optimize their efforts and limit the clashes
within the anti-Dutch front, Hizboellah, Sabilillah, Masyumi and
TNI chiefs agreed to a meeting that would be mediated by local
6 As it will become evident below, other sources claimed that the Tentara Islam Indonesia
was created in February 1948. However, it is possible that already by late 1947 the coordination
efforts among Islamic militias in West Java had led to the formation of a unified army.
7 ‘Majelis Oemat Islam’, ‘C’ Divisie ‘7 December’, 12 August 1948, APG no. 997 NA. Probably
it referred to the KNIL, but the report only talks of ‘Nederlandse Leger’ and ‘Tentara Kerad-
jaan’.
8 One such clash, for example, occurred in Sukasari (Maja); here two Hizboellah battalions
that had arrived from Gegesik (Indramayu) in January were attacked by the TNI after they
had been caught stealing weapons. ‘Perlutjutan sendjata terhadap TNI oleh Hizboellah, Kantor
Polisi Kabupaten Madjalengka’, 19 January 1948, KepNeg no. 565, ANRI.
112
civilian authorities in Majalengka, which in early 1948 was the hub

of military activities in the Priangan. The meeting did not achieve
the intended goal of creating a unified army, but the participants at
least recognized the need for coordinated action.
On the one hand, Islamic militias formally complained about
the inertia of Republican soldiers and requested that other irregu-
lar militia groups be incorporated into their own ranks, rather than
into the TNI’s. On the other hand, TNI commanders diplomati-
cally suggested that their units should simply withdraw to Yogya-
karta and surrender the defence of Majalengka to Hizboellah, as
having ‘two armies in one state’ only created friction. Eventually,
the parties agreed to arrange another meeting, in which higher
officials would participate. TNI was to be represented by Lt. Col.
Abimandju and Col. Hidayat (second-in-command of the Siliwangi
Division), Masyumi by Kartosuwiryo, and the militias by Kamran
(chief of West Java Sabilillah troops stationed in Bantarujeg, south
of Majalengka).9 The prominent place given to them in this meet-
ing confirms Kartosuwiryo’s and Kamran’s leading roles in the
province.
It is interesting to note that the source refers to Masyumi and
Sabilillah instead of MOI or TII, suggesting the possibility that until
February-March 1948 Sabilillah and Hizboellah may have been
coordinating their activities under the command of the MPOI/
DPOI, and that the Darul Islam/Tentara Islam Indonesia ‘proper’
was only established in March 1948.
Even though sources on the second meeting are scattered, evi-
dence suggests that it was held in Cinta, a village under Mount
Talagabodas (Sukawening), just before the Siliwangi soldiers’ with-
drawal in late January 1948. This meeting saw the participation of
Col. Hidayat, Major Utaryo, Kartosuwiryo and several civil servants
from West Java. On this occasion, Kartosuwiryo expressed his oppo-
sition to the TNI’s retreat and suggested that they all wage a holy
war against the Dutch. What is more, he requested that Siliwangi
soldiers leave their weapons behind to be used by those who were
ready to fight the Dutch, meaning the Islamic troops.10
9 The mediating civilian figures were the mayor of Majalengka, the people’s representative
and the local chief of police. ‘Perlutjutan sendjata terhadap TNI oleh Hizboellah, Kantor Polisi
Kabupaten Madjalengka’, 19 January 1948, KepNeg no. 565, ANRI.
10 Edi S. Ekadjati, Sejarah kebangkitan nasional daerah Jawa Barat (Jakarta: Proyek Penelitian
dan Pencatatan Kebudayaan Daerah Jawa Barat, Pusat Penelitian Sejarah & Budaya, Departe-
men Pendidikan dan Kebudayaan, 1979), p. 207. The two requests mentioned above are also
said to having been put forward by Oni and Kartosuwiryo in January 1948; see ‘Tanggal2 bersed-
jarah bagi gerombolan D.I’. [1952?], AABRI DI no. 14.
113
These demands were rejected by the TNI, and by the begin-

ning of February 1948, roughly 22,000 men – and their weapons
– were already on their way to Yogyakarta under the command
of Colonel Nasution.11 Though Indonesian forces outnumbered
them, the militias had by now made it clear that they did not
intend to leave. Several thousand Hizboellah and Sabilillah mili-
tiamen remained in West Java, swelling the numbers of Kartosu-
wiryo’s DI-TII.12
During the first week of February 1948, officials of the state of
Pasoendan (Negara Jawa Barat) took steps to convince regional
Masyumi leaders to surrender their weapons and join the state. The
list included several popular and military leaders from Tasikmalaya,
Garut and Ciamis, amongst whom were Kamran, Toha Arsjad, Joe-
soef Taoeziri and Junaidi, but not Kartosuwiryo.13
Laying the foundations of the Islamic state (february-march 1948)
According to a 1953 RI government publication, Kartosuwiryo

received very little support in his endeavour to create an Islamic
state. It is there argued that the majority of those present at the
initial gatherings rejected the project of creating an Islamic state in
West Java on the grounds that doing so would ‘create a dubbelstaat, a
state within the state.’14 However, archival sources paint a different
picture.
As the Siliwangi soldiers prepared to withdraw, Kartosuwiryo and
other Masyumi and Sabilillah officers followed up on their earlier
attempts to coordinate Islamic resistance to the Dutch by organiz-
ing a conference in Pangwedusan, Cisayong.15 On 10-11 February
1948, some five hundred delegates and members of five Masyumi
branches from across West Java (Tasikmalaya, Garut, Kuningan,
11 Abdul Haris Nasution, Tentara Nasional Indonesia (Jakarta: Seruling Masa, 1968); Ricklefs,
A history, p. 227.
12 By the end of the year more than 50,000 men were in the rank and file of the TII. ‘CMI
Doc. No. 5176, Documenten betreffende de “Daroel Islam”-beweging’, 21 December 1948, AAS
no. 2752, NA. Among them were Zainal Abidin’s group in Blubur Limbangan, Koernia’s in
Cicalengka, Enoks’s in Wanaraja (Garut), Oni’s in Mount Cupu, and Kamran’s on the border
between Majalengka and Tasikmalaya (Pagerageung area). Nasution, Tentara Nasional Indonesia,
p. 125; Tanu Suherly, ‘Kekuatan gerilya di daerah Priangan pada waktu divisi Siliwangi hijrah
tahun 1948’. Paper, Seminar Sejarah Nasional ke-3, Jakarta, 10-14 November 1981, p. 4. This
second source provides a detailed list of the various groups on pp. 4-10.
13 ‘Onderhandelingen met Masjoemi’, 9 February 1948, AAS no. 2746.
14 Kementerian Penerangan, Republik Indonesia: Propinsi Djawa Barat (Jakarta: Kementerian
Penerangan, 1953), p. 215.
15 Dinas Sejarah TNI, Penumpasan pemberontakan D.I./T.I.I., pp. 59-65.
114
Majalengka and Ciamis), as well as representatives of Persis, Nah-

datul Ulama and Muhammadiyah attended the conference, the
explicit aim of which was to establish an Islamic state and army.16
These party leaders suspended the activities of the West Java
branch of Masyumi and agreed on a plan to draft a clearly defined
Islamic policy, create an army and elect a leader. Kartosuwiryo was
nominated imam of the Islamic community in West Java, and Oni
chief of the Indonesian Islamic Army in the Priangan. Although
most of these actions were not initiated until after the March con-
ference (see below), this meeting had already stated the inten-
tion of establishing an Islamic state that would implement Islamic
laws in the daerah istimewa (special region) between Pagerageung,
Cikoneng and Mount Sawal. It also declared a holy war and trans-
formed the Sabilillah into the Tentara Islam Indonesia.17
The February meeting was followed by another conference, held
on 1 March in Cirebon. Between January and mid March the press
recorded a rapid increase in Islamic militias in the Priangan. Until
January the town of Maja had been hosting an average of around
300-600 Hizboellah soldiers, but in late February more than 2,000
Hizboellah soldiers, who had been stationed in the area, attacked
Bandung, Maja, Majalenka, Sukahaji and Kadipaten. In mid March
the Dutch ‘W’ Brigade noted a ‘large concentration’ of Tentara
Islam, and by April around 3,000 Hizboellah soldiers under the
command of Oni and Lubis were in the area.18
At the Cirebon conference, Imam Kartosuwiryo, together with
Kamran and Raden Oni (heads of the military section), Sanusi
Partawidjaja and Toha Arsjad (leaders of the political section) and
Kiyai Abdul Halim and Kiyai Haji Gozali Toesi (of the religious sec-
tion), created the political and military structures needed to con-
front the Dutch.19 First, they announced the dissolution of Masyumi
and the suspension of its activities in West Java. In July 1948 the
Yogyakarta chief of police speculated that behind Kartosuwiryo’s
dissolution of Masyumi was antagonism regarding Soekiman’s ‘not
16 Dani Wahdani, ‘Politik militer Angkatan Perang Negara Islam Indonesia (A.P.N.I.I.) di Jawa
Barat pimpinan Imam S.M. Kartosoewirjo’ (thesis, Universitas Padjadjaran, Bandung, Jatinan-
gor, 2003) p. 59, quoting from Sedjarah Goenoeng Tjoepoe.
17 ‘Overzicht en ontwikkeling van de toestand 8 April 1800 uur tot 15 April 1800 uur’, Territo-
rial ts. Troepencommandant West Java [1948], MD: AS no. 2224, NA.
18 ‘Sabilillah liar bergerak di sekitar Tjamis’, Sin Po, 1 March 1948, and ‘Hizbullah moendoer
ke Goenoeng Tjiremei’, Keng Po, 1 April 1948. See also MD:AS nos 2275 and 2288, NA.
19 Dinas Sejarah TNI, Penumpasan pemberontakan D.I./T.I.I, p. 63. Some degree of influence
was also in the hands of Dahlan Lukman (GPII-Priangan leader), Siti Murtayi’ah (GPII-Putri
Priangan leader), Abdullah Ridwan (Hizboellah-Priangan leader) and five other cabang-level
leaders from Garut, including Saefullah (cabang vice-president), who was subsequently arrested
and on whose confessions the first Dutch report on the Darul Islam was based.
115
radical enough’ leadership of the party.20 However, the Masyumi

leaders who were gathered in Cirebon declared that it was time for
Masyumi to terminate its operations in West Java because of the
‘general situation in the region’:
Especially as the political negotiations between the Republican govern-

ment and the Netherlands are not concluded yet, all Masyumi’s sub-
groups […] and all the organization’s branches are to suspend their
activities in the western part of Java beginning 1 March 1948 at 14.00.
The announcement also specified that anyone who had previously

held representative roles would no longer have the right to speak
for Masyumi, nor for any of its sections.21
The various militias were merged to form a unified and struc-
tured army – the Tentara Islam Indonesia – which would operate
under the command of Kamran on the western side of the Van
Mook line.22 This army was instructed to ‘come to power in a tact-
ful way, succeed in taking control of the Republic, and include it[s
territory] within the Islamic state’.23 The political agenda of this
new organization was focused on the preparations for a new state, a
Negara Baru. This ‘New State’ would be a democratic Islamic state,
the existence of which was seen by its founders as an alternative
solution to a national state in case the Republican government
were dissolved, or a Dutch-promoted state of West Java created.24
All matters related to combat were to be determined by the
Islamic government in accordance with ‘Islamic laws’,25 but no fur-
ther details are provided. The participants at the March meeting
agreed on a list of actions to be pursued in the immediate future
to oppose Dutch domination and to strengthen Islamic piety in
the area.26 The last concern addressed at the meeting was the West
Java Islamic community’s need for a unified leadership, a problem
solved by the election of Kartosuwiryo as sole commander of the
ummah in the region and his confirmation as imam.27
20 ‘Darul Islam di Djawa Barat’, Djawatan Kepolisian Negara Bagian PAM Yogyakarta, 23 July
1948, JogjaDoc no. 203, ANRI.
21 ‘Dunia Masyumi menghentikan usahanya’, 1 March 1948 in ‘Pelaporan No. 14/7/48 Peri-
hal Darul Islam’, Jawatan Kepolisian Negara Bagian PAM Yogyakarta, 17 July 1948, JogjaDoc
no. 218h, ANRI.
22 ‘Rencana ketentaraan oemmat Islam’, in JogjaDoc no. 218h, ANRI.
23 ‘Dunia Masyumi’, in JogjaDoc no. 218h, ANRI.
24 ‘Program politik ummat Islam’, in JogjaDoc no. 218h, ANRI.
25 ‘Rencana ketentaraan oemmat Islam’, in JogjaDoc no. 218h, ANRI.
26 ‘Daftar usaha cepat’, in JogjaDoc no. 218h, ANRI.
27 ‘Kesatuan pimpinan’, in JogjaDoc no. 218h, ANRI.
116
Early reactions (March-May 1948)
Possibly because of the increasing presence of Islamic militias in the

Priangan area, or possibly because of the geographic spread and
high profile of its participants, the Cirebon gathering attracted the
attention of the Dutch authority and the Republican police alike.
As early as April, the Republican police and the Dutch reported on
Masyumi’s new military configuration in the Ciamis, Mount Sawal
and Mount Cupu areas and its relation to the Darul Islam/Tentara
Islam Indonesia,28 describing this new group as a puritan Islamic
movement aimed at the establishment of an Islamic state.29
Reportedly, the March gathering was attended by branch leaders
from Bandung, Sumedang, Tasikmalaya and Ciamis. The Cirebon
regional branch of Masyumi decided to adhere to Kartosuwiryo’s
transformation; Banten and Jakarta refused the offer, at least for
the time being, while Bogor made it clear that it wanted to wait
for the result of the Renville plebiscite.30 The Plebiscite Movement
demanded a popular consultation to determine whether Java,
Madura and Sumatra would be part of the Yogyakarta Republic or
would instead create their own states within the federal structure.
Even though they initially appeared to have lukewarm feelings
about the idea, in May 1948 the Banten branch (which included
some government representatives) issued intense public propa-
ganda in support of the Darul Islam and against the Republican
government,31 and in August the head of the Majelis Islam in Bogor,
Raden Mohammad Sapri, was arrested for forming a TII branch.32
In March the established ‘Islamic government’ was called
Majelis Oemmat Islam, a variation on the Garut Islamic Commu-
nity’s Defence Council, MPOI. In the previous months the MOI
had been replicated across the region, forming a network of local
‘Islamic councils’ through which Islamic leaders coordinated
the defence of West Java and formed an Islamic mass movement
28 ‘Beknopt Politiek-Politioneel Verslag van de regentschappen Bandoeng, Garoet, Tasik-

malaja, Tjiamis, Soemedang, Cheribon, Koeningan, Indramajoe, Madjalengka, Poerwakarta,
Soekaboemi, Tjiandjoer en Buitenzorg, over de maand Maart 1948’; and ‘Politiek-Economisch
Verslag betreffende de Residentie Priangan over de maand Maart 1948’, 28 April 1948; both in
AMK:RI no. 283, NA.
29 ‘Politiek-Economisch Verslag’, 28 April 1948; and ‘Beknopt Politiek-Politioneel Verslag van
de regentschappen Bandoeng, Garoet, Tasikmalaja, Tjiamis, Soemedang, Cheribon, Koenin-
gan, Indramajoe, Madjalengka, Poerwakarta, Soekaboemi, Tjiandjoer en Buitenzorg, over de
maand April 1948; both in AMK:RI no. 283, NA.
30 ‘Majelis Oemat Islam’, ‘C’ Divisie ‘7 December’, 12 August 1948, APG no. 997 NA.
31 ‘Extract uit D.O.B.I. n.631 dd 10/05/48 Nefis IV dd 9-5-48 Eval A.Z.’, APG no. 1000, NA.
32 ‘Tentara Islam Indonesia’, 17 August 1948, APG no. 1002, NA.
117
dedicated to creating an Islamic state.33 Between early 1948 and

the official proclamation of the Negara Islam Indonesia in August
1949, the MOIs functioned as party branches representing local
headquarters of the Darul Islam and coordinating the activities of
Masyumi, Sabilillah, Hizboellah and GPII across the island (mostly
between West and Central Java).34 Notably, in September 1948 the
Republican police in Yogyakarta still considered these MOIs to be
pro-Republican.35
Even though the MOI structure was not gathering much insti-
tutional support from Masyumi, the more general goal of creating
an Islamic state was shared by a number of party leaders, who were
also influenced by international events. When Israel, for example,
was recognized as a state in Palestinian territory in May 1948, the
Dutch government became concerned that the Palestinian ques-
tion would become yet another piece of the Islamist puzzle in Indo-
nesia, pushing Masyumi leaders towards further action. It is worth
noting that the report explicitly singled out Soekiman, Kasman
Singodimedjo, Abikoesno, Wondoamiseno, Agoes Salim, Aroedji
Kartawinata, K. Ahmad Sanoesi and Kartosuwiryo as politicians
who would be particularly sensitive to developments in the Middle
East.36 Indeed these events stirred much interest in Masyumi and
Darul Islam circles.
At the 1948 Masyumi congress, held on 28 March in Madiun,
Wali Alfatah (who would, in November, become vice-chairman
of the Central Board) and Kiyai Ahmad Sanoesi (member of the
National Majelis Sjoero) issued a joint declaration in favour of the
creation of a dar-ul-Islam ‘as soon as possible’ in order to end the
armed national revolution. The congress had gathered after the
formation of the DI-TII, and the head of the NII’s information
office in Tasikmalaya, Abdoelhadi Ibrahim, was present at the con-
gress as Darul Islam’s representative. However, neither Wali Alfatah
nor Kiyai Ahmad Sanoesi made any reference to Kartosuwiryo.37
33 Qanun asasy Negara Islam Indonesia, AABRI DI no. 9.

34 ‘Ontstaan en ontwikkeling der ‘Majelis Islam’, bezien uit militair standpunt’, Territoriaal
Troepencommandant West Java, 19 March 1949, APG no. 1002, NA.
35 ‘Surat dari Jawatan Kepolisian Negara bagian PAM tentang skema dari partai-partai yang
dalam perjuanganya menentukan sikap pro dan anti-pemerintah’, 9 September 1948, JogjaDoc
no. 233, ANRI.
36 ‘Hr.TOL’ (untitled), 21 May 1948, APG no. 1005, NA.
37 ‘Darul Islam di Djawa Barat’, Djawatan Kepolisian Negara Bagian PAM Yogyakarta, 23 July
1948, JogjaDoc no. 203, ANRI, states that ‘the characteristics of the Darul Islam survive also
amongst Masyumi circles in the Republican territory, as evidenced in the speeches of Wali Alfa-
tah and Kjai A. Sanusi’. This is the first instance in which the DI-TII is ignored as a model by
other Islamic leaders advocating for an Islamic state; the reasons for and consequences of this
attitude are further discussed in Chapter 6.
118
Although they both argued in favour of an Islamic state, the

speeches reflect the well-established difference between modern-
ists’ and traditionalists’ strategic approaches to the creation of an
Islamic state, as one focused on society and the other on institu-
tions as primary engines of the transformation.
Sanoesi doubted that a dar-ul-Islam could be established in
Indonesia because of the limited support enjoyed by Masyumi
among peasants and labourers. Openly challenging Soekarno’s
Pancasila philosophy, Sanoesi stated that Masyumi’s aim could only
be achieved if the three fundamental elements of the state – the
people, the government and the laws – were Islamic. On the other
hand, Wali Alfatah expressed a more optimistic view of the future
position of Islam in Indonesian politics, as he trusted that Soeki-
man, as Minister of the Interior, would exert pressure on the civil
servants to return to the occupied areas of the Republic and pro-
claim an Islamic state.38 It is perhaps on these grounds that in April
the Dutch suggested that Soekiman was the leader of the Darul
Islam.39
The Pasoendan State, as noted above, had been trying to co-opt
regional Masyumi leaders into their Negara Jawa Barat project, in
February 1948. The president of this state, R.A.A. Wiranatakoeso-
ema, had demonstrated an interest in realizing an Islamic political
option for independent Indonesia as early as March 1947, and in
April 1948 he participated in the formation of the MPOI in Band-
ung, for which he had shown open support. As the Islamic national
movement in West Java assumed structural shape and increased its
territorial control (see below), Kartosuwiryo decided to approach
Wiranatakoesoema to suggest that they engage in a common strug-
gle to ensure that West Java’s independence would be established in
Islamic terms. When directly contacted by Kartosuwiryo in August
1948 and by the Tentara Islam Indonesia in late February 1949,
however, Wiranatakoesoema appeared reluctant to cooperate.40
Aside from these political reactions to the re-structuring of
Masyumi, another key player in the success of the Darul Islam
38 ‘Kutipan Pidato2 pada tgl 28/3-’48 (Kongres Masjumi di Madiun) dari 1. Wali Alfatah 2. KA
Sanoesi’, JogjaDoc no. 243, ANRI.
39 ‘Daroel Islam’, 5 June 1948, APG no. 1002, NA.
40 ‘CMI Signalement: de verhouding tussen Wali Negara van Pasoendan Wiranatakoesoema
en de Daroel-Islam’, March 1949, AAS no. 3979, NA. Interestingly, an earlier Dutch document
argued that Darul Islam troops were actively opposing the Negara Pasoendan project in favour
of a state truly independent of Dutch influences; see ‘Beknopt Politiek-Politioneel Verslag van
de regentschappen Bandoeng, Garoet, Tasikmalaja, Tjiamis, Soemedang, Cheribon, Koenin-
gan, Indramajoe, Madjalengka, Poerwakarta, Soekaboemi, Tjiandjoer en Buitenzorg, over de
maand April 1948’, AMK:RI no. 283, NA.
119
was the local population. Local villagers in the Priangan openly

endorsed Islamic militias’ activities and supported them in their
struggle, to the point that TNI soldiers often complained about this
favouritism.41
Initial expansion (March-May 1948)
As mentioned above, the numbers of Islamic militias in the Prian-

gan swelled from a few hundred to a few thousand in the short span
between the beginning of the Siliwangi withdrawal until the end of
March. This increase in number soon had consequences, especially
as Hizboellah and Sabilillah were not the only irregular troops in
the area, and the regular TNI had not completely evacuated the
region.
In addition to clashing with TNI soldiers over weapons and sup-
plies, throughout 1948 the troops of the Islamic Army also became
engaged in a struggle to expand the territorial scope of the MOI-con-
trolled areas at the expense of other guerrilla groups and the Dutch.
As territorial expansion had become a strategic priority, Karto-
suwiryo and his military aides had divided West Java in three areas,
depending on the degree of control that the Majelis held. The Dae-
rah Satu (shortened in the original documents as D.I and mean-
ing Region One) included villages controlled by the Darul Islam
and implementing Islamic law. The Daerah Dua (D.II, Region Two)
included the areas where the Darul Islam, the MOI or the TII had
freedom of movement and strong influence. Lastly, the Daerah Tiga
(D.III, Region Three) included those areas where the Darul Islam
only had a limited degree of influence.42 According to this organi-
zational scheme, in May ‘Region One’ included the area enclosed
within Tasikmalaya, Ciawi, Panumbangan and Mount Sawal; the
D.II encompassed the area between Cileungjji (Ciamis), Cisayong
(Tasikmalaya), Nagrek, Darmarata, Talaga and Mount Sawal; and
the D.III stretched eastward to Majalengka and Cikijing, and south-
east to Lakbok, Parigi, Cikatomas and Tasikmalaya.43
The Dutch attempt to cleanse Mount Sawal’s surroundings of
Islamic fighters created considerable difficulty for the militias’ oper-
ations, but at the same time it provided the fighters with renewed
41 ‘Tindjauan singkat tentang keadaan daerah Keresidenan Prijangan’, 31 March 1948,
KepNeg no. 495, ANRI.
42 Qanun asasy Negara Islam Indonesia, AABRI DI no. 9; ‘Majelis Oemat Islam’, 12 August 1948,
APG no. 997, NA, pp. 6-7; CMI Publication No. 91, 29 September 1948, AAS no. 3977, NA,
pp. 8, 13.
43 CMI Publication No. 91, 29 September 1948, AAS no. 3977, NA.
120
strength and motivation. In retrospect, Dutch efforts to purge the

Darul Islam from the Priangan were highly ineffective and mostly
counterproductive. The Dutch Army had dispersed Islamic troops
in Cikatomas, but this only resulted in the splitting of the militias
between Cikalong (to the south) and Leuwisari (to the north).
Similar attacks on the Mount Cupu area had spread Darul Islam
soldiers to Cisayong, Ciawi, Indihiang and the southern districts.
Further, Darul Islam troops had re-emerged in Pangerageung and
Cineam, where they shared control of the territory with the com-
munist Bamboe Roentjing militias.44
As a result of the successful political guidance of Kartosuwiryo
and the able military leadership of Kamran and Nur Lubis, the Darul
Islam expanded widely. By May 1948 the Majelis Oemmat Islam-
Darul Islam had established its territorial presence across the Prian-
gan, while at the same time strengthening its political structure.
a step closer to establishing the islamic state

(may-december 1948)
Institutional and territorial consolidation
In the second half of 1948, the Darul Islam’s efforts were channelled
into consolidating the movement’s control over West Java and oppos-
ing the Dutch in both military and political capacities. In early May
1948 Kartosuwiryo, Sanoesi Partawidjaja, Kamran, Toha Arsjad, and
Kiyai Gozali Toesi led a conference in the vicinity of Bantarujeg (Maja-
lengka) to establish the majelis imamah or kabinet (guiding assembly,
or cabinet), an act that marked the transformation of the MOI from
a socio-political mass movement into a government body.45
On 27 August Kartosuwiryo released the Constitution of the
Islamic state, and in the following months he continued to struc-
ture and give a clearer shape to this political entity. The Negara
Islam Indonesia was to be a republic, led by an imam and based
on sharia law. The imam had to be elected, his actions would be
pursued only in the interest of the public and his authority would
be submitted only to the sharia. He was entrusted with law-making,
a process whose principle aim would be the formulation of laws
44 ‘Tjatatan ringkas dari laporan2 jang ketrima antara tanggal 22 sampai 31 Agoestus 1948
tentang kedjadian2 dalam kaboepaten Tasikmalaja’, 1 September 1948, APG no. 1080, NA.
45 Dinas Sejarah TNI, Penumpasan pemberontakan D.I./T.I.I., p. 64.
121
inspired by sharia principles and, at the same time, able to deal

with the needs of a modern Islamic society.
Similar paradigms of government were suggested by other
groups across the archipelago, especially in Aceh and South
Sulawesi, as mentioned in the preface to this book. Yet, despite hav-
ing a vision starkly different from Soekarno’s, the Darul Islam was
still far from positioning itself in opposition to the Republic, keep-
ing its focus instead on regional anti-Dutch activities. For the Darul
Islam, the Islamic state was in a state of war, or jihad, with the Dutch
forces, and every member of the Islamic ummah had the religious
duty to fight fi Sabilillah.46
July and August, which that year corresponded to the fasting
month of Ramadhan, had been quieter than the rest of the year.
Yet even amidst reduced clashes and increased arrests, the Darul
Islam had nonetheless succeeded in consolidating its presence in
the region.47 By the end of September 1948, the D.I area included
the territory that had been under D.III in May. The D.II stretched
southwest to Pameungpeuk and Mount Cupu, northwest to Tan-
jungsari and Tanjungkerta (Sumedang), north to the railway in
Sukamelang, east to Cirebon, and then curving back in to Ciki-
jing and Mount Sawal. The D.III had expanded further into the
Garut regency in Bungbulang, towards Bandung, Indramayu and
Cirebon in the north, and east into Central Java, with Salem under
Darul Islam influence.48
The expansion towards the east was led by Amir Fatah, com-
mander of the mobile division of the TII. Through October and
December he would push into the neighbouring province and
become head of the Central Java division of the Darul Islam.49 Here
the Darul Islam won the support of smaller Islamic groups, includ-
ing the Moedjahidin of Pekalongan, Tegal and Brebes, which then
became the core of the local Darul Islam.50 In the west, the TII had
regiments in Bogor, Jakarta and Banten as early as June 1948.51
46 ‘Maklumat Negara Islam Indonesia no. 1, 25 August 1948, JogjaDoc no. 218e, ANRI.
47 ‘Beknopt Politiek Politioneel Verslag van de regentschappen Bandoeng, Garoet, Tasikma-
laja, Tjiamis, Soemedang, Cheribon, Koeningan, Indramajoe, Madjalengka, Poerwakarta, Soeka-
boemi, Tjiandjoer en Buitenzorg’ for the months of July and August 1948, AMK:RI no. 284, NA.
48 CMI Publication no. 91, 29 September 1948, AAS no. 3977, NA.
49 ‘CMI Doc. No. 5176, Documenten betreffende de “Daroel Islam”-beweging’, 21 December
1948, AAS no. 2752, NA.
50 CMI Publication No. 97, 18 November 1948, AAS no. 3977, NA.
51 ‘Rapport van Bk. Bandoeng inzake Islamitische stromingen in de residenties Priangan
en Cheribon’, Archief van de Marine en Leger Inlichtingendienst, Netherlands Forces Intel-
ligence Service en Centrale Militaire Inlichtingendienst in Nederlands-Indië [hereafter AIntel]
no. 1705, NA.
122
Structuring the Islamic State
According to a 1950 document drafted by the Ministry of the Inte-

riors of the Indonesian Republic, on 13 October 1948 the lead-
ers of Islamic organizations (including Anwar Tjokroaminoto and
Abikoesno Tjokrosoejoso), national leaders (including Muham-
mad Natsir, Kasman Singodimedjo and Soekarno), and military
commanders (including General Sudirman) were given copies of
the Qanun asasy Negara Islam Indonesia, the Constitution of the NII.
The compiler of the 1950 document mentions that these leaders
had also received a request to provide moral and material support
to the NII’s struggle, but ‘They were all warned by the events of
Madiun and kept that as a learnt lesson’, and thus refused to get
involved with the Darul Islam.52 In the aftermath to the Siliwangi
withdrawal to the Solo area, this TNI division clashed with anti-
government communist troops whose stronghold was in Central
Java. In mid September, as political tensions escalated, PKI and
Pesindo troops gathered in Madiun and took control of the city,
proclaiming a National Front government (this is further discussed
on p. 173).
The Constitution of the Negara Islam Indonesia is composed
of fifteen chapters comprising a total of thirty-four articles. It deals
with several aspects of creating and maintaining a state, paying
particular attention to the structures of Islamic political authority.
The constitution provides for the establishment of a parliament
(majelis syuro), an executive committee (dewan syuro) and an advi-
sory council (dewan fatwa). It considered matters regarding the
powers of the national government, regional divisions, finance, the
judiciary, rules of citizenship, matters of national defence, educa-
tion, economy, flag and language, and procedures to amend the
constitution.53
Such structure closely resembles that of the Indonesian Repub-
lic’s Constitution, and some of the more general matters regarding
the state also seem to have been inspired by it. However, consider-
ing the historical understanding of qanun as a set of religious laws in
accordance with the current time, it would not be fair to belittle the
importance of this constitution as an Islamic text simply because of
its concern with mundane aspects of politics and its parallels with
a secular constitution. After all, Islamist ideologies ‘are not con-
52 ‘Ichtisar gerakan DI/Kartosuwiryo’, Kemeterian Dalam Negeri Yogyakarta, 24 July 1950,
KabPerd no. 150, ANRI.
53 I have here used the text as it appeared in ‘De grondwet van de Daroel-Islam’, Ministerie
van Binnenlandsche Zaken Negara Pasoendan, 26 October 1948, AAS no. 2752, NA.
123
tinuous with historical Islam, but rather are modern constructions

influenced by current conjunctions’, as Sami Zubaida has argued
in the case of the Islamic Republic of Iran.54
Together with the 1949 criminal code, this text remains one of
very few attempts to formally structure an Islamic state in the Sunni
Muslim world in the twentieth century, possibly only equalled by
Nabhani’s Niẓām al-Islām, which was published in 1952 and is still
today the blueprint for creating an Islamic state for the global Hizb
ut-Tahrir movement.
Kartosuwiryo’s Constitution opens with a preamble explaining
the historical circumstances in which the Islamic state had come
into being. The Renville Agreement is described as a blessing in
disguise, as from then on the ummah of West Java, under the leader-
ship of Masyumi, would lead a ‘second revolution’ of resistance in
name of Islam – a jihad. Kartosuwiryo regarded the NII as a ‘gift of
God’ (Kurnia Allah) to the Indonesian people. Formally a republic
(in the text defined as jumhuriyyah and republik), this Islamic state
saw the Qur’an and hadith sahih as the highest laws and believed it
had the duty to enforce Islamic law on its community whilst ensur-
ing freedom of religious belief and practice to all its citizens. The
majelis syuro was entrusted with both the duty to elect the imam and
the power to make laws, although in a state of emergency the imam
and the dewan imamah (whose members were appointed and dis-
charged at the imam’s discretion) could take over. The imam’s oath
was to be given before parliament, acknowledging the paramount
importance of acting for the benefit of Islam and the state. The
imam was allowed to stay in office as long as he acted according to
the sharia, fulfilled his oath, and governed in accordance with the
teachings of Islam.
Kartosuwiryo insists on the figure of the imam. This Qanun gives
the imam almost unlimited powers and authority, with the only limit
being parliamentary approval in the law-making process. He would
also have an advisory council, the dewan fatwa, composed of up to
seven mufti and headed by one Great Mufti to guide him in his
decisions. The imam had the rights to declare siege and war and to
rule by decree. He was head of the armed forces; appointed and
received ambassadors and consuls; decided on matters of amnesty,
abolition of punishment, clemency and re-education; and con-
ferred titles, decorations and honours.
54 Sami Zubaida, ‘Is Iran an Islamic State?’, in Joel Beinin and Joe Stork (eds), Political Islam:
Essays from Middle East Report (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1997), p. 104. Sami
Zubaida has argued as much for the case of post-revolution Iran, and the same holds true for
the Negara Islam Indonesia.
124
In a socialist vein, the Qanun sanctioned the right for all citi-
zens to work and to maintain appropriate standards of living. It also
established the principle of mutual aid for matters pertaining to
the life and livelihood of the people, and the right-duty to pursue
an education, which would be facilitated by the government’s estab-
lishment of a system of Islamic schooling. The state would control
‘the branches of production of major importance to the nation and
its people’, as well as soil, water and natural resources in order to
ensure maximum benefit for the people.
Reaching out: Promoting the common goal
With the TNI officially evacuated from West Java, the Islamic Army
supplied the only organized anti-Dutch troops. Although they were
not the only ‘irregulars’ operating in the province, the NII was estab-
lishing itself as a regional political institution with links to the centre,
whilst the various laskar did not have a central leadership. In October
1948 the Dutch Army labelled Kasman Singodimedjo, Sangadji and
Anwar Tjokroaminoto as the Jakarta supporters of the Tasikmalaya-
based Darul Islam,55 and in December of that year Kartosuwiryo
himself announced that Abikoesno and Anwar Tjokroaminoto were
‘representatives of the NII in the Republican territories’.56
As the DI-TII affirmed its position in the Priangan as a military
and civilian institution, Kartosuwiryo and his aides saw an oppor-
tunity to reach out to the Republican government to ask for rec-
ognition of their successes against the Dutch and for support in
continuing the struggle.
On 3 October 1948, K.H. Zainal Hasan Thoha (political chief
of MOI in Ciamis) and Nur Lubis (the Batak commander of TII’s
3rd Battalion in Tasikmalaya and Ciamis) sent letters to Muham-
mad Natsir (at that time Minister of Information), the chief of the
Republican delegation in Yogyakarta, Mohammad Roem, and the
vice-president, Mohammad Hatta.57 These three letters appealed
for material help – namely, weapons – from the Republic, express-
ing the ‘hope’ that the Republic would be interested in West Java’s
struggle against the occupying forces.
55 ‘Beknopt Politiek-Politioneel Verslag der vreemdelingen- en inlichtingen Dienst (VID),

no. 10/1948’, APG no. 1068, NA.
56 ‘Maklumat Negara Islam Indonesia no. 6’, 20 Safar 1368 AH/21 December 1948 CE, in Al
Chaidar, Pemikiran politik, pp. 556-7.
57 The last two letters were said to be copies of ones previously sent, which had gone unan-
swered and were thus deemed not to have been received.
125
Each letter tackled the issue in a way that was tailored to the
character and position of the recipient. The letter to Roem was
a direct and bare-boned request for moral, political and material
support, sweetened by the hopes of this Islamic State’s command-
ers that Roem would not let the rebellion go unknown in Republi-
can circles.58 The other two letters, on the other hand, went to great
lengths to explain why a guerrilla movement had been organized
on Mount Cupu, with Natsir even addressed as an ally:
As a Muslim, surely you must be happy about this rebellious Muslim

movement in West Java, and that the great strength that you have
often mentioned as being with the Muslim group is indeed real.
Unfortunately, this government, led by a leftist coalition, does not
care about it, and its strength cannot be used to stop the Dutch
aggression. This rebellion in West Java shows that Muslims truly
love independence. With a few rifles and firm faith, the rebellion
started on Mount Cupu on 17 February [1948].59
Hatta’s letter presented him with the matter-of-fact statement that

‘the future of the occupied areas lies 99% with the result of this
rebellion’, and that the only reason for Yogyakarta’s independence
was TII’s activity in West Java. The Darul Islam had no naive expec-
tations of receiving any substantial material help from the Republic.
But it used this opportunity to remind the Republican leadership
that it should not forget that many Indonesians were still under
foreign rule, in part because of the decisions made by the Yogya-
karta government, and that, as the Siliwangi Division had taken the
‘good and heavy weapons’ into Republican areas, the Darul Islam
could not guarantee a quick victory in West Java.60 Their requests
went unheeded.
On 19 December 1948 the Dutch Army invaded Central Java,
entered Yogyakarta and captured the president, the vice-president,
58 Letter to P.T. Mr. Muhammad Rum Ketua Delegasi Republik Indonesia di Yogyakarta from
Pimpinan Ummat Islam Kabupaten Tjiamis KH Zainal Hasan Thoha and Tentara Islam Indo-
nesia Bat. III Res. I Div. I Komandan Bat. III Muhammad Nur Lubis, 3 October 1948, JogjaDoc
no. 150, ANRI.
59 Letter to J.M. Muhammad Natsir Menteri Penerangan Republik Indonesia di Yogyakarta
from Pimpinan Ummat Islam Kabupaten Tjiamis KH Zainal Hasan Thoha and Tentara Islam
Indonesia Bat. III Res. I Div. I Komandan Bat. III Muhammad Nur Lubis, 3 October 1948, Jog-
jaDoc no. 150, ANRI.
60 Letter to P.J.M. Wkl. Presiden Republik Indonesia Drs. Mohammad Hatta di Yogyakarta
from Pimpinan Ummat Islam Kabupaten Tjiamis KH Zainal Hasan Thoha and Tentara Islam
Indonesia Bat. III Res. I Div. I Komandan Bat. III Muhammad Nur Lubis, 3 October 1948, Jog-
jaDoc no. 150, ANRI. Quote also from this letter.
126
the head of KNIP and the Minister of Foreign Affairs.61 This was a
serious setback to the creation of an independent state of Indone-
sia, and it also greatly contributed to the shaping of Darul Islam-
Republik Indonesia relations.
growing apart (december 1948-august 1949)
Against the backdrop of these kidnappings and the collapse of the

Republican government, in late December Kartosuwiryo declared
a ‘holy war, total war, all-encompassing people’s war, against the
Netherlands’ to ensure the success of the Islamic revolution and
the establishment of a perfect Islamic state across Indonesia.62
The Dutch intervention gave Kartosuwiryo another opportunity to
accuse the Republican government of its political failings, and at
the same time to glorify the Islamic state as the only viable option
for independent Indonesia.
In the following months Republican leaders conducted intense
diplomatic talks with the Dutch, whilst the Siliwangi Division
returned to West Java. Until mid 1949, relations between Republi-
can agents and the DI-TII could best be characterized as an uneasy
collaboration marked by the consciousness that, despite territorial
divisions, resisting Dutch expansion should be their common goal.
Tentara Islam Indonesia and the Siliwangi in West Java:

an uneasy cohabitation (December 1948-February 1949)
The Dutch operations prompted a new round of diplomatic nego-

tiations, in which the Republican bargaining power was further
weakened. Kartosuwiryo’s response to the situation was clear:
It will not be long before they sign a new treaty – this is the story
of the Indonesian independence struggle – and this third treaty
will decide the fate of the State of the Indonesian Republic. In
our understanding, at that point the Republic won’t be anything
more than a ‘Puppet State’ like those the Dutch have already estab-
lished a while ago: Negara Indonesia Timur, ‘Negara’ Kalimantan,
‘Negara’ Pasoendan, and so forth. Thus, with the use of weapons,
61 Ricklefs, A history, p. 230.

62 ‘Maklumat Negara Islam Indonesia no. 5’, 19 Safar 1368 AH/20 December 1948 CE, AABRI
DI [folii].
127
the Netherlands will force the Republican government, which has

already been captured, to sign a treaty according to which all the
state’s instruments will have to be abandoned [here anticipating
the Roem-Van Royen statement of May 1949 … ]. Because of this,
there is nothing for the Indonesian Islamic community, especially
those living in Republican territory, to do other than to be ready to
accept God’s gift, to pursue a jihad fi Sabilillah, to oppose the enemy
of Islam, the enemy of the State, and the enemy of God, and last but
not least, to establish a State blessed and offered by God, an Islamic
State of Indonesia.63
Kartosuwiryo’s disappointment with the Republican government is

evident. However, it would be a mistake to argue that the Darul
Islam maintained an ‘openly anti-Republican’ attitude, as Kahin
and Boland have suggested.64
On 21 December 1948 Kartosuwiryo declared that the strug-
gle for the Islamic state was ‘the continuation of the indepen-
dence struggle, following on from and in line with the 17 August
1945 proclamation’. In this statement, Kartosuwiryo was plac-
ing the Darul Islam’s struggle on the same plane as Soekarno’s,
rather than in opposition to it.65 Two days later he renewed the
Islamic state’s ‘state of war’, specifying that it involved only two
contenders: the NII and the Dutch government. Between the two
neither cooperation nor treaties were allowed, and ongoing dip-
lomatic contact had to be ceased.66 Kartosuwiryo was thus pledg-
ing to continue Soekarno’s struggle whilst he and his cabinet had
been captured, and Republican forces were not identified as the
enemy.
Following the Dutch offensive of December 1948, the Siliwangi
Division crossed the Van Mook line, re-entering West Java and reig-
niting tensions between regular soldiers and Islamic militias, ten-
sions about which Colonel Nasution was well aware.
63 ‘Maklumat Negara Islam Indonesia no. 6’, 20 Safar 1368 AH/21 December 1948 CE in Al
Chaidar, Pemikiran politik, pp. 556-7. Here Kartosuwiryo anticipated the Roem-Van Royen state-
ment, which was signed on 7 May 1949. Regulating the transfer of sovereignty, this agreement
had been heavily pushed for by the international community, as had the Renville Agreement.
The international community had begun to tire of Dutch policies in the archipelago. An inter-
esting account of these events, and of the reactions of the international community, is offered
by TIME Magazine; see ‘Regretfully obliged’, 27 December 1948; ‘So moves the world’, 3 January
1949; ‘Merdeka!’, 10 January 1949; ‘What about the baby?’, 10 January 1949.
64 Kahin, Nationalism and revolution, p. 330; Boland, The struggle of Islam, p. 58.
65 ‘Maklumat Negara Islam Indonesia no. 6’, 20 Safar 1368 AH/21 December 1948 CE, in Al
Chaidar, Pemikiran politik, pp. 556-7.
66 ‘Maklumat Negara Islam Indonesia no. 7’, 22 Safar 1368 AH/23 December 1948 CE, in Al
Chaidar, Pemikiran politik, pp. 558-9.
128
The return of the Siliwangi Division to West Java stirred much

commotion in DI-TII circles. In late January 1949, a new NII
decree blamed Republican troops for abandoning the region
and returning one year later, not as ‘guests’ of the Islamic state,
but rather as rulers who expected to take charge of NII territory.
The TNI was aware that the NII considered the return of the Sili-
wangi troops a breach of NII’s sovereignty,67 and saw its soldiers
as a tentara liar (wild, illegal militia), an ‘obstacle’ to the Islamic
revolution and an enemy of the Islamic state.68 The 25th of Janu-
ary – the day of this decree – is also considered by the Republican
Army as the day when ‘the TNI betrayed the Tentara Islam Indo-
nesia’. The aggression of the TNI on that day was taken as a sign
of enmity towards the Tentara Islam Indonesia and the Islamic
ummah.69
Even though January and February 1949 witnessed attacks on
several TNI battalions by Islamic soldiers around Tasikmalaya, Cia-
mis, Kuningan and Majalengka, clear rules of engagement prohib-
ited the Islamic Army from killing Republican troops, who were
only to be relieved of their equipment and then dispersed.70
Nevertheless, cases of cooperation continued to be reported.
For example, TNI and TII troops stationed in Parigi, in the
South Priangan, resolved to cooperate to ensure that all soldiers
had food and weapons – the people’s predilection for Islamic
militias remained a key element in ensuring their livelihood.71
The beginning of the year saw cooperation in the Kuningan and
Jakarta areas as well, to the extent that in Jakarta this coopera-
tion gave rise to worries in the office of the Dutch Indies’ attor-
ney general, which had received documentation proving that the
Sjarif Hidajatullah Division of TII in Central Java had obtained
ammunitions and weapons from the commander of the regional
police.72
67 ‘Maklumat no. 10 Siliwangi Djawa Barat’, 10 April 1949, AABRI DI no. 4. Kedatangan Tentara
kita dianggap sebagai melanggar kedaulatan negara tsb [NII] berhubung memang Tentara kita bertugas
untuk membangun kembali Pemerintah republik di Jawa Barat.
68 ‘Maklumat Negara Islam Indonesia Militer no. 1’, 25 January 1949, in Al Chaidar, Pemikiran
politik, pp. 652-4.
69 ‘Tanggal2 bersedjarah bagi Gerombolan D.I.’ [1952?], AABRI DI no. 14. TNI melakukan
penghianatan kepada Tentara Islam Indonesia.
70 ‘Maklumat Negara Islam Indonesia Militer no. 1’, 25 January 1949, in Al Chaidar, Pemikiran
politik, pp. 652-4.
71 ‘Beknopt Politiek-Politioneel Verslag van de regentschappen Bandoeng, Garoet, Tasik-
malaja, Tjiamis, Soemedang, Cheribon, Koeningan, Indramajoe, Madjalengka, Poerwakarta,
Soekaboemi, Tjiandjoer en Buitenzorg, over de maand Februari 1949’, AMK:RI no. 285, NA
72 ‘Aanbieding documenten betreffende TII- en TNI-aangelegenheden’, 21 September 1949,
APG no. 907, NA.
129
But from April 1949 onwards, the TNI reportedly joined forces
with the Dutch in an attempt to clear Darul Islam pockets in West
Java.73 What changed the relationship so swiftly and so dramatically?
…and an easy divorce (February-March 1949)
On 26 February 1949 Kartosuwiryo and Oni held a conference in

Langkaplancar (in the South Priangan), during which they pre-
sented the TNI with an ultimatum: the TNI could either leave the
region or join the ranks of the Darul Islam, but beginning in April
the only army allowed to operate in the region would be the Ten-
tara Islam Indonesia.74
As the Republic readied itself for yet another round of negotia-
tions, the Darul Islam began preparations to expand its territorial
reach. In mid April, it sent a ‘consul’ for the NII to Sumatra with
the intention of leading the local ummah.75 According to a Dutch
intelligence report, it is at this same time that a Javanese associ-
ate of Kartosuwiryo developed cells in the Palembang, Bengkulu,
Lampung, Jambi and Tapanuli areas as well as on the west coast,
and that the first contacts between Kartosuwiryo and Daud Beu-
reueh in Aceh took place. Beureueh was a former leader of the
Persatuan Ulama Seluruh Aceh (PUSA, All-Aceh Union of Ula-
mas) and in July 1947 he had been nominated military governor
of Aceh. The Dutch also detected Darul Islam groups in South
Borneo, the Moluccas and Sumbawa, and a small enclave was
active in the Lesser Sunda Islands.76 There is also evidence that
Kahar Mudzakkar posed as panglima (commander) of the IV DI
Province of Eastern Indonesia soon after the proclamation of the
NII, whilst it is generally accepted that he joined the Darul Islam
in early 1952.77
After the ultimatum, and probably as a way to justify such a dra-
matic change in attitude, in March 1949 Kartosuwiryo published a
pamphlet on the history of the ummah’s struggle for independence
and the secularists’ track-record in diplomatic negotiations. In ad-
Daulatul Islamiyah Kartosuwiryo drew attention to the nationalists’
73 ‘Beknopt Politiek-Politioneel Verslag over de maand April 1949 van de regentschappen in
de Negara’, AMK:RI no. 285, NA.
74 ‘Beknopt Politiek-Politioneel Verslag over de maand Maart 1949 van de regentschappen in
de Negara Pasundan’, AMK:RI no. 285, NA.
75 ‘Tanggal2 bersedjarah bagi Gerombolan D.I.’ [1952?], AABRI DI no. 14.
76 ‘CMI Signalement de Negara Islam Indonesia’, 21 October 1949, AAS no. 3979, NA.
77 See, for example, Van Dijk, Rebellion under the banner of Islam, p. 187. ‘Perkembangan D.I.
Djawa Barat S.M. Kartosuwiryo’, AABRI DI [folii].
130
cooperative attitude – first towards the Dutch, then towards the

Japanese, and, finally, towards the Dutch once again.78
To Kartosuwiryo, Soekarno’s readiness to bargain with the
Dutch had made a ‘zoo’ (kebon binatang) of the early independence
movement: as the animals, the politicians could ‘freely’ move
around, but they were limited by the cages and guards of the colo-
nial administrators. Once Japan replaced the Netherlands, the zoo
became a circus (komidi kuda), with each animal playing its part in
the well-orchestrated farce of independence, tragically ended by
the atomic bombings. As he himself was one of the animals in this
Japanese circus, Kartosuwiryo may have felt betrayed when Japan,
after having co-opted the Islamic movement in order to garner
popular support, eventually entrusted the task of drafting the con-
stitution to the secular nationalists.
Kartosuwiryo accused Sjahrir of selling out Indonesia’s indepen-
dence at Linggadjati, and Sjarifuddin, of leading the Republican
boat through shallow waters until it ran aground on West Java in
the aftermath of Renville (Bahtera Republik terdampar). Kartosuwiryo
did not place all the blame on the Republican leaders, though, as
he recognized they had been lured by the deceptions of the inter-
national community, which was interested in stalling the revolu-
tion. They had been victims of an illness that no dukun healer could
cure – diplomacy.
When the anti-colonial Islamic revolution was spreading from
Mount Cupu into the western part of Java, too many had pre-
ferred to play it safe by fleeing across the Van Mook line, work-
ing for the Dutch government in West Java, waiting passively for
things to change, or seeking help from Yogyakarta. Yet, Karto-
suwiryo concluded, all Soekarno and Hatta could deliver to the
people were empty hopes, a second military campaign and the
inevitable failure of the Yogyakarta Republic as an independent
government.
Opposing reactions: Clashing military and political interests

(April-August 1949)
During April, military commanders’ concerns over the number

of TNI soldiers that were falling victim to the Darul Islam were
opposed by Masyumi and other political organizations who were
instead concerned by the ruthlessness of the army’s response and
the future of political Islam in general.
78 Kartosuwiryo, ‘ad-Daulatul Islamiyah’.
131
Awareness of the Darul Islam’s position on the Siliwangi Divi-

sion’s ‘intrusion’ in West Java had not stopped Commander in
Chief Colonel Nasution from affirming that his duty was ‘to re-
establish the Republican government’ in the region.79 Reporting
from the Priangan, he complained that the Siliwangi Division was
‘squeezed’ between Dutch and Islamic troops and was suffering
heavy losses.
According to Colonel Nasution, by April almost one thousand
Siliwangi soldiers had been captured by the Darul Islam. Even after
the local ceasefire, signed on 12 April 1949, dozens of TNI soldiers
came under Darul Islam fire. In response, the division interrupted
the Cirebon-Tasikmalaya road, killed a dozen Darul Islam men,
burned down a factory, disturbed Darul Islam meetings in Kun-
ingan and Ciamis, increased patrolling, hijacked two trucks and
seized eighteen rifles. The following month, after being informed
of Major Sentot’s success in cleansing the Cirebon area, Nasution
admitted that his repeated attempts to negotiate and cooperate
with the Darul Islam had failed, as had those conducted by Colo-
nel Sadikin in Tasikmalaya. A plan to eradicate the militia was now
needed. Major Hardjono, in mid May, stated that the Darul Islam’s
unwillingness to cooperate was forcing his troops to begin purging
the area.80
In the wake of the Roem-Van Royen Agreement, relations
between the Darul Islam and the Republic had worsened. From
May 1949 the ambiguities in their positions dissipated, and their
differences came into sharper relief. In principle, the Islamic state
was not opposed to the Republican government in Yogyakarta, but
in practice it opposed Dutch interference in Indonesian politics
and Dutch authority over Indonesian territory. The Darul Islam
argued that West Java, as part of the occupied territories, did not
fall under the control of the Yogyakarta Republic, and thus should
not be forced to abide by the treaty signed by Republican lead-
ers. In fighting the Siliwangi troops, the Darul Islam did not see
itself as attacking Soekarno’s Republic but, rather, as attacking the
Dutch government, which was making use of Republican troops to
advance its own agenda. The Indonesian Republic had become a
‘puppet’ in the hands of the Dutch, and was thus standing behind
79 ‘Maklumat no. 10 Siliwangi Djawa Barat’, 10 April 1949, AABRI DI no. 4.
80 Col. A.H. Nasution on West Java and DI/TNI clashes, doc. no. 0211/pl oi/25, 26 April
1949, Pemerintah Darurat RI, 1949 [hereafter PDRI] no. 91a, ANRI; ‘Darul Islam contra TNI te
Tasikmalaja’, Territoriaal Troepencommando East Java, 3 Mei 1949, MD:AS no. 2071, NA; Major
Harjono on ‘Pembersihan terhadap DI’, 19 May 1949, PDRI no. 92, ANRI; ‘Laporan HBKD
PTTS’, 23 June 1949, PDRI no. 151, ANRI.
132
enemy lines. Although this change in perspective had become evi-

dent to military commanders and politicians alike, Masyumi did
not approve of Colonel Nasution’s hard line, and party leaders
pleaded with him not to attack Islamic troops and not even to enter
the areas they controlled.
Regardless of the fact that the Darul Islam had no institutional
link to Masyumi, the party went all out to defend the Islamic Army.
They vigorously argued that the clashes with the TNI were partly in
response to attacks on the part of the Siliwangi Division – attacks
that had been ordered by Achmad Wiranatakoesoema and which
were frowned upon by other TNI commanders – and partly a con-
sequence of bandits roaming the border between Central and West
Java, which made it difficult to establish who was TNI and who was
not.
On the political front, Masyumi maintained that TNI’s attacks
on the Darul Islam were strengthening the Dutch scheme of ‘divide
and rule’ and weakening popular support for the Republic across
the country, and not just in those areas directly controlled by the
Darul Islam. Masyumi leadership was sure that once the Dutch had
left, the situation would be easily resolved by removing the source
of discontent in West Java.81
Despite pleas for unity from Lieutenant Colonel Sudirman,
who called for groups from all ideological paths to join in a holy
struggle of total war (perjuangan suci, though not a perang suci),82
and despite Masyumi’s repeated attempts to mediate between
the Siliwangi Division and the Darul Islam,83 press and military
reports show that by late July, and even more so from August
1949, negotiations and discussions regarding cooperation had
failed. This failure was the result, on the one hand, of the Darul
Islam’s resentment of the Yogyakarta Republic, and on the other
hand, of the TNI army’s suspicion that after the communist mili-
tias had been crushed in Central and East Java in late 1948, they
had heavily infiltrated the Islamic Army, especially in the Cirebon
area.84
81 Letter from Prawoto Mangkusasmito, Pengurus Besar Masyumi, to Panglima Komando
Jawa on ‘Darul Islam’, 9 April 1949, Kabinet Perdana Menteri RI, Yogyakarta, 1949-1950 [here-
after KabPerd] no. 150, ANRI; Letter from Muhamad Saleh, Pengurus Besar Masyumi, to Pan-
glima Komando Jawa on ‘Darul Islam’, 7 May 1949, KabPerd no. 150, ANRI.
82 Letter from Panglima Komando Jawa, Lieutenant Colonel Sudirman, 9 May 1949, AABRI
DI no. 4.
83 ‘Masjumi bemiddelaar tussen de Siliwangi en de Darul Islam?’, Indonesisch pers en radio over-
zicht, Java, 12 August 1949.
84 ‘Communistische infiltratie in de Darul Islam’, Nieuwe Courant, 22 June 1949. For more
details on DI and communism, see Chapter 6.
133
declaring an islamic state in ‘occupied’ west java

(august 1949)
The Negara Islam Indonesia was rooted in the law of God and had
its base in ‘Medina’. As had been anticipated in the Brosoer sikap
hidjrah PSII and in Haloean politik Islam, this choice of toponym
pointed to the city’s status as the destination of the hijrah, as a physi-
cal migration and a metaphoric transformation. Either way, Karto-
suwiryo referred to the beginning of a new life for the ummah, one
in full conformity with Islam. The NII extended across five regen-
cies in West and Central Java: the Priangan (in Bandung, Garut,
Tasikmalaya, Ciamis,and Sumedang districts), Cirebon (Cirebon
city, Indramayu and Majalengka), Pekalongan (Brebes and Tegal),
Banyumas and Bogor.
The NII had existed, de facto, since August 1948, when the first
‘announcement’ (or decree) bearing its name appeared. But the
Islamic State proclamation of August 1949 represents the impor-
tant transformation from a nebulously defined, idealized project to
a meticulously detailed state with a blueprint for executive, legisla-
tive and judicial government institutions.
The former Masyumi branch of West Java had finally achieved
the goal that the central party had set in 1945: the establishment of
a republic that was based on Islam, implemented Islamic laws and
directly controlled its territory. Success had only become possible
in August 1949 after the ‘betrayals’ of the Republican government
and the ummah’s many disappointments.
The circumstances that had enabled Kartosuwiryo and his
partners to proclaim the NII were clearly explained in a political
manifesto released a few weeks after the NII proclamation. In Kar-
tosuwiryo’s eyes, this text was a direct result of the Roem-Van Royen
statement, which had epitomized diplomatic relations between
the Netherlands and the Indonesian Republic: the ceasefire, the
Round Table Conference and sustained cooperation between the
two parties. Kartosuwiryo’s objection to each and every point was
grounded in political and historical considerations. He character-
ized Soekarno’s authority as that of a slave who had been turned
into a king by the Devil, and his political strategy as weak, disillu-
sioned and outdated. He believed Soekarno to only be capable of
selling out his country to the foreign occupier.
Kartosuwiryo pointed out that Soekarno had risen to represent
the entire archipelago, even though no other leader had delegated
his decisional powers to the Republican cabinet. But when bullied
by the Dutch, Soekarno could do nothing more than surrender
134
Indonesia’s sovereignty to them. The Federal Republic of Indone-

sia (RIS) was built on ‘fake’ authority, as it was a ‘gift’ from the
colonial government and it still carried the shadow of Dutch con-
trol and supervision. Kartosuwiryo saw this dynamic as little more
than a modern form of colonialism in the context of which Indo-
nesia would only have been half-independent, as a dominion or a
protectorate.
Kartosuwiryo’s rejection of anything short of de facto and de jure
independence was reinforced by his open condemnation of Paki-
stan’s status as a British dominion. Soekarno’s debacle had caused
the end of the Republican cabinet and the collapse of the ummah,
but Kartosuwiryo saw these events as ‘a gift from God’ that had
empowered the Darul Islam to proclaim the Islamic state.85
The May ceasefire agreement was set to end hostilities on 1
August 1949. However, in Java, a fortnight passed before any real
progress in ending the conflict was made. The Siliwangi Division
pledged to obey the ceasefire and held meetings with local laskar
to facilitate the transfer of authority and the troops’ incorpora-
tion into the Republican Army.86 Although the Antara news ser-
vice reported that TII and TNI troops around Ciamis had initially
agreed to abide by the ceasefire and would ‘cooperate in wiping
out irresponsible elements’,87 this solution was not embraced by
every Darul Islam cell, as in the last weeks of August its militias
continued to attack the Dutch, the TNI and, reportedly, also the
civilian population in the Cirebon area and west of Jakarta.88 It
was in this charged political environment that Hatta left Jakarta to
attend the Round Table Conference in The Hague, lasting until
November 1949.
The Proclamation of the Negara Islam Indonesia
In part a result of Soekarno’s weakness, the Indonesian Republic

was visibly crumbling under pressure from international diplo-
matic efforts. The Negara Islam Indonesia was officially declared
against this backdrop on 7 August 1949, during the 20th session of
the dewan imamah in Cimampang, a meeting held in the aftermath
of the Roem-Van Royen Agreement and attended by Kartosuwiryo,
K.H. Gozali Toesi, Sanoesi Partawidjaja, Oni and Toha Arsjad.
85 Manifesto politik, Bab IV, 4.

86 ‘Siliwangi-divisie gehoorzaamt het cease-fire bevel’, Pedoman, 20 August 1949.
87 Antara News, 23 August 1949.
88 ‘DI melebarken sajapnja’, Sin Po, 26 August 1949.
135
Pragmatic and detailed as it was, this proclamation was still a

theoretical statement that together with the 1948 Constitution pre-
sented an alternative to Soekarno’s 1945 text. In Kartosuwiryo’s
vision the NII would evolve from a core ‘Negara Basis’, named
Madinah Indonesia, with only de facto authority over a small por-
tion of Indonesia, into a ‘Negara Kurnia Allah’ – a fully sovereign
state. Solidifying the state into a permanent entity could only be
obtained through a dramatic shift in the balance of power: locally,
Kartosuwiryo called for an Islamic revolution; internationally, for a
Third World War or a World Revolution ‘more devastating and vio-
lent than the previous ones so that, God willing, the international
situation will deeply change’.
Aware of the movement’s current limitations, the dewan imamah
stated that the daulatul Islamiya, or Darul Islam, would continue to
conduct a holy war until it was transformed in the envisaged ‘Negara
Basis’: the NII would include the entire territory of the archipelago,
be recognised as a de facto and de jure state, it would implement
Islamic law, abolish slavery, and ensure that all enemies of Allah,
religion and the state had left. Until these goals were met, the NII
would be in a state of war (Negara Islam dimasa perang or dar-ul-Islam
fi-waqtil-harbi), ruled by Islamic martial law. The time was ripe for
establishing ‘God’s justice in this world’, and Kartosuwiryo called
upon the Indonesian ummah to pursue ‘the holy duty of guarding
the integrity of the NII’.89
The NII’s criminal code
With Kartosuwiryo’s formal proclamation of the NII as a politi-

cal and administrative entity, what had so far been a theoretical
proposal had now become a functioning state. The commitment
to territorial expansion across the archipelago was supported by
the efforts to provide this state with a strong legal infrastructure,
including a criminal code, the Hukum pidana. This text dedi-
cated considerable attention to killings, banditry and martial law,
reflecting the current state of war in which the NII found itself.
The code arranged the material in a semi-systematic presenta-
tion of qisas (retribution in equal measure), diya (compensation
money), ta‘zir (discretional punishment) and hudud (crimes and
punishments mentioned in the Qur’an), following the classic
fiqhi distinction between crimes and punishments. Here I address
only the code’s martial law, as its remainder is analysed in Chap-
89 ‘Proklamasi berdirinja Negara Islam Indonesia’, 7 August 1949, AABRI DI no. 14.
136
ter 6 in comparison with the codes issues by the Majelis Mujahi-

din Indonesia (Indonesian Council of Mujahidin, MMI) in 2002
and 2005.
The NII code dedicated several articles to Islamic martial law.
Its first article reiterated the fact that the ‘Indonesian State’ (Neg-
ara Indonesia) was an Islamic state currently at war and therefore
subject to hukum syariat Islam dalam masa perang. This held four
fundamental obligations, with their respective punishments. Who-
ever did not follow the instructions of the Islamic state, including
those who did not surrender financial surplus to the treasury as
contribution towards jihad, was to be considered a bughat (rebel)
and punished by banishment or death (quoting Qur’an 4:58),
but only if he did not rectify the situation after being taken into
custody and admonished. Death was directly prescribed for the
three remaining categories of offenders: hypocrites, sinners and
enemies of the state. Munafiq (hypocrite) was the one who main-
tained good relations with the state’s enemies, despite having
been informed by the government of such prohibition (quoting
Q 60:1; 9:73; 66:9). Fasik (sinner) was the Muslim who did not fol-
low Islamic law; if he refused to repent, he was to be labelled an
enemy of Islam and punished accordingly. Enemies of the state
were all those who had ‘become tools of the colonial power’ in
civil, military and auxiliary circumstances, unless these actions
were pursued in fulfilment of orders from the Islamic govern-
ment. Punishment was of two kinds: he who assisted the colonial
government without bringing any disadvantage to the Islamic
state was to stop all activities; but he who spied for the enemy,
thus bringing direct harm to the Islamic state, was to be sentenced
to death (quoting Q 4:89).
Adherence to martial law – described as one of the five pillars of
jihad – was a fard al-‘ayn except for the blind, crippled, sick, physi-
cally weak and those affected by infectious diseases (quoting Q
9:90).90 All the free, sane and physically able adult Muslim males
had the duty to participate in jihad against those who waged war on
the state (defined as orang muharib and kafir harbi, infidels of war),
and those who, after appropriate investigation, appeared to be
supporting the enemy. It was the imam or amir’s decision whether
these enemies were to be executed, exchanged for captives of war
or seized goods, enslaved or, even, set free.
90 This same article is referred to in Pinardi, Sekarmadji Maridjan, as Q 9:91. In Pinardi, the
second group exempted from participating in jihad is said to be rincang, explained as
sakit mata (those with eye defects); however, rincang does not appear to exist in Indonesian, and
it is likely to be a misreading of pintjang (the crippled).
137
According to the text, in times of war there were only two com-
munities: the ummat Negara Islam (ummah Muslimin), and the infi-
del oppressor (ummat penjajah, colonizer; ummat kafirin, infidel).
Enemies are defined as those who do not adhere to Islam, those
who do not recognize as forbidden what Allah forbade, those who
had broken their pledge of loyalty (muharrib), polytheists (mush-
rik), the munafiq (quoting Q 8:38; 9:12, 28, 72; 4:75), bughat and
bandits. In addition to the more general understanding of bughat
as someone who broke the rules of the state, this term has also
acquired a very politicized connotation since the Battle of Sif-
fin, when it was used to describe those who did not recognize the
authority of the imam. Here the term was used for the person who
refused to follow the imam as leader of the state, even though the
community had agreed upon his nomination. Martial law allowed
the arrests of those who disseminated non-Islamic propaganda,
those who in so doing disturbed the peace and order of the state,
those who unsettled the population, those who contributed to
strengthening the enemy, and those who were suspected of being
a danger to the Islamic state (quoting S. Anas, hadith n. 7, Subulus-
salam, Muhadhanah).
During times of peace these same crimes were punished with
imprisonment or ta‘zir. The same article also offered guidance
for handling the bughat, who was to be arrested and lectured on
Islam for the first offence and, if arrested again, sentenced to
banishment or capital execution; the fasik was first to be advised
against strengthening the enemy, and only when this had failed
was he to be punished with the impounding of his wealth. Only
enemies who harboured the intention of opposing the state and
who planned to weaken Islam politically, or tactically, could be
held in captivity.
Whilst those arrested (ditangkap) were to be judged by a court,
those held captive (ditawan) were considered spoils of war and had
their punishments decided by the imam or amir, whether these cap-
tives were infidel sane men, women, children, mentally insane or
transvestites (wandu91). The spoils also included: (a) goods belong-
ing to the enemy and left behind; (b) goods seized from polytheists;
(c) tenants of state land; (d) goods belonging to executed apostates;
(e) goods belonging to a kafir aman (non-Muslim who had been
granted safety) with no heirs; and (f) the commercial value of infi-
dels who traded in the country. All these goods were to be consid-
ered fa’i (goods obtained from the enemy, but not in battle), and to
be included in the Mushalihu’l-Muslimin community fund.
91 Pinardi uses banci, an alternative, yet more derogatory, term.
138
The spoils acquired in battle (ghanimah) were to be shared

between the state treasury (which received 80% of the total) and
– in equal parts – among the imam, the poor, the orphans, those
who had participated in the battle (Ibnu’sabil), and the community
fund administered by the imam (each receiving 4% of the remaining
20%). Still following Shafi’i doctrine, 80% of fa’i was given to the
Islamic state, and the rest was divided in the same fashion as the ghan-
imah. Salab (what the enemy had used in battle) was instead taken in
full by those who had participated in the military action. The cap-
tives of war could be either non-Muslims (kafir) or apostates (mur-
tad): kafir were condemned to become slaves and property of the
state, and decisions about their future were made by the imam and
his representatives; murtad had the chance to repent of the misdeed
of not following the laws of the Islamic state. Failing to do so within
three days meant that they were to be sentenced to death. A person
could only marry a captive female murtad once she had observed the
‘idda waiting period of three months and ten days, which only began
when approved by the imam or his representative, the judge.
initial attempts to reconciliation (august-october 1949)
The Republic was committed to negotiating a compromise with

the Darul Islam. During a time when clashes were still occurring,
Hatta sent Muhammad Natsir to Bandung to make contact with
Kartosuwiryo. Natsir had originally refused to admit that he was
trying to negotiate with the Darul Islam; however, once he arrived
in Bandung, Natsir decided to involve their educator and friend
Ahmad Hassan of Persis, hoping that Kartosuwiryo would respect
their common teacher enough to agree to a meeting and even a
compromise.92 Confronted by Ahmad Hassan, who carried a letter
written by Natsir, on 10 August 1949 Kartosuwiryo explained that
the Islamic state had already been proclaimed three days earlier,
and that he could not undo this act. Natsir also recalls that Kartosu-
wiryo complained to Ahmad Hassan that the request was not ‘offi-
cial enough’ to be taken into consideration, as it had been written
on letter-headed stationary.93 As negotiations had come to nothing,
92 Antara News on 1 September 1949 reported: ‘When questioned about the truth of newspa-
pers’ reports that he had contacted the irregular troops of DI [Natsir said]: is it possible that
within two nights can I have contacted the DI whose headquarters are not even in Bandung?’
93 Panitya Buku Peringatan Muhammad Natsir, Muhammad Natsir 70 tahun kenang-kenangan
kehidupan dan perjuangan, (Jakarta: Pustaka Antara, 1978), pp. 185-6.
139
the Darul Islam established itself in the rural areas whilst the TNI
maintained its hold on the cities.94
As the Priangan was a firmly consolidated Darul Islam area, the
struggle was now mostly conducted on the north coast in the Cire-
bon regency. Here, in the surroundings of Tegal and Brebes, the
former TNI colonel and then commander of the TII Sjarif Hida-
jatullah division, Amir Fatah, led groups of 200-500 men, circulated
NII pamphlets and regularly engaged with the TNI.95 The clashes
continued96 even after the Darul Islam agreed, in early September
1949, to lay down its weapons and be incorporated into the Repub-
lican Army, provided that all TNI units located in Cirebon and the
East Priangan were replaced with new troops who had not previ-
ously fought against the Islamic Army.97 By the end of the first week
of September, Darul Islam troops had withdrawn from West Cire-
bon, but the ‘Darul Islam problem’ was far from solved.98
In September, the Dutch-language newspaper Nieuwe Courant
called the NII proclamation ‘a coup d’état in the Pasoendan’,
and the Semarang-based Sulu Rakjat condemned the Darul Islam
movement for ‘having nothing to do with the actual meaning of
its name, “house of peace”’. Even so, Masyumi leaders Muhammad
Natsir and Zainal Arifin, as well as TNI Colonel Sadikin, decided to
take some conciliatory steps.99
Steering clear of either condemning or praising the Darul Islam,
Natsir encouraged Indonesians to see the difference between those
who really wanted to advance the Islamic state ideal and those who
instead only sought excuses to perpetrate vandalism. He went fur-
ther, holding the Dutch responsible for creating the conditions
94 ‘Het cease fire bevel wordt over het algemeen gehoorzaamd’, in Indonesisch pers en radio
overzicht, Java, 25 August 1949. It is worth noting that despite the fact that rural and urban areas
came under different spheres of control, the press noticed that the flow of daily supplies to the
civilian population was not interrupted.
95 ‘Daroel Islam verdrijft TNI uit desa’s’, De Vrije Pers, 27 August 1949; ‘CMI Signalement de
Negara Islam Indonesia’, 21 October 1949, AAS no. 3979, NA.
96 ‘Terreur door de Daroel Islam’, De Vrije Pers, 2 September 1949; ‘Strijd tussen Darul Islam
en TNI’, Nieuwe Courant, 5 September 1949; ‘Gevechten tussen TNI en Daroel Islam’, Vrije Pers,
5 September 1949; ‘Strijd Tussen TNI en DI’, De Vrije Pers, 10 September 1949; ‘Darul Islam
bertempur’, Berita, 8 November 1949; ‘Daroel Islam merampok’, Sin Po, 9 November 1949; ‘D.I.
terreur neemt steeds ernstiger vormen aan’, De Vrije Pers, 12 November 1949; ‘DI menjerbu’,
Merdeka, 17 November 1949; ‘Sekitar activiteit Daroel Islam’, Java Post, 15 November 1949; ‘Weer
een bloedbad van Darul Islam-benden’, De Vrije Pers, 18 November 1949.
97 ‘De “Darul Islam” bereid de wapens neer te leggen en tot de TNI toe te treden’, A.P.B., 1 Sep-
tember 1949; ‘Darul Islam masuk TNI’, Berita, 3 September 1949. It is likely that these articles
referred to local groups carrying the name ‘Darul Islam’, rather than the regional movement.
98 ‘De situatie in Banjumas en in het Indramajuse’, A.P.B., 6 September 1949.
99 ‘Darul Islam’, Suluh Rakjat, in Indonesisch pers en radio overzicht, Java, 9 September 1949; ‘Bij
Daroel Islam heet alles: straf-maatregel in oorlogstijd’, Nieuwe Courant, 8 September 1949.
140
that led to the emergence of an Islamic movement in the Priangan

when they first invaded Java in July 1947, and accusing them of now
conducting a ‘systematic media campaign’ against it.100
By mid September, Natsir was chairing a commission for the
study of the Darul Islam, which soon concluded that the Repub-
lic should not destroy Kartosuwiryo’s movement.101 Sadikin, now
commander of the Siliwangi Division, stated that the TNI would
not eliminate the Darul Islam and encouraged its soldiers to sur-
render their weapons,102 and Zainal Arifin, member of the KNIP
for Masyumi, accused the Dutch of using the Darul Islam for their
own political gains. By inflating the threat posed by the Darul
Islam, Arifin argued, the Dutch were trying to convince the Repub-
lic to agree to a longer-term Dutch military presence on Java. He
described the Darul Islam as a ‘self-defence movement against the
despotic actions pursued by the Dutch Army’ and a ‘small issue’ for
the Republic.103 These statements further reinforced Zainal Arifin’s
earlier comment that ‘the conflict between TNI and DI is military
as much as political […]; the DI problem is not a very difficult one,
and if no third party interferes, we will solve it amongst ourselves’.104
One attempt to solve the Darul Islam problem peacefully at the
local level had been the establishment of neighbourhood associa-
tions. The chiefs of these organizations, however, were elected, which
created a system that ‘fully collided with traditional adat institutions
in West Java’, according to the Dutch Secretary of State for domestic
affairs. He also feared that with the current widespread presence of
terrorist organizations in the territory, the chiefs could be exploited
as a result of their being in control of both population and goods,
thus leading to the creation of a structure ‘too similar to those imple-
mented by totalitarian regimes’. The cure, the Secretary of State con-
cluded, would likely prove worse than the disease itself.105
Dutch reports from these weeks focused on the Darul Islam’s
violent means, even though at the same time some Republican offi-
cers continued to insist on the commonality of aims between TII
and TNI. And although clashes between the two armies were still
100 ‘Moh. Natsir tentang Daroel Islam’, Pewarta Surabaja, 7 September 1949; ‘Moh. Natsir:
Er is een Darul Islam, doch er is ook een valse Darul Islam’, in Indonesisch pers en radio overzicht,
Java, 6 September 1949.
101 ‘CMI Signalement de Negara Islam Indonesia’, 21 October 1949, AAS no. 3979, NA.
102 ‘Republik tida aken berantas Daroel Islam’, Sin Po, 19 September 1949.
103 ‘Membesarkan berita D.I. untuk keuntungan politik’, Harian Berita, 21 September 1949.
104 ‘KNIP-leden bezoeken het gebied van Tjiamis’, in Indonesisch pers en radio overzicht, Java,
9 September 1949.
105 ‘Oprichting buurtgenootschappen ter bestrijding Darul-Islam’, 7 November 1949, AAS
no. 3979, NA.
141
taking place,106 the commander of the 3rd TNI division in West Pri-
angan, Major Ardiwinata, stated in a letter addressed to Darul Islam
troops stationed in Lamburawi: ‘I am a member of TNI, but as a
Muslim, I am proud of the Islamic spirit that burns in your hearts
[…] The goals of the TNI, to tell the truth, are not different from
the goals of the DI’s fight, and it is not appropriate that we become
each other’s enemies […] Don’t we all want a government blessed
by Allah and endorsed by the people?’107
In a military report written after the NII proclamation, the
Darul Islam in West Java was described as a movement advancing
Islamic democracy, opposing colonialist capitalism and comply-
ing with the Republic’s authority.108 In 1951 another army report
argued that in 1948-49 Colonel Sadikin and the Darul Islam shared
the same goal of getting rid of the Dutch and ensuring Indonesia’s
independence.109
concluding remarks
The Dutch invasion and occupation of West Java in the second

half of 1947 had the unexpected result of ‘freeing’ Kartosuwiryo
from Soekarno’s politics, allowing him – and West Java – to pur-
sue a different path to independence. As West Java was declared
Dutch territory, the Republican agenda – now decided upon in
Yogyakarta – had become irrelevant to this region. Gradually Karto-
suwiryo, Kamran, Oni and K.H. Gozali Toesi realized what they had
imagined and planned for years: the embryo of an Islamic state of
Indonesia. Throughout this chapter we have seen the idea of such
a state and its structure evolving from the Garut-based ‘Defence
Council’ to the regional network of MOIs, followed by the expan-
sion of the latter’s control across West Java and then into Central
Java, to the eventual proclamation of the Negara Islam Indonesia
with a constitution and a penal code.
106 Clashes were still taking place between Islamic and regular troops, as accounted in ‘Report
by TNI Siliwangi’, 21 October 1949, AABRI DI no. 4; ‘Lapuran mingguan bulan November’, TNI
Siliwangi, 7 December 1949, AABRI DI no. 8.
107 Letter from Major Ardiwinata, Commander of III D. West Priangan, to Darul Islam ‘broth-
ers’ in Lamburawi, 26 September 1949, AABRI DI no. 3.
108 ‘1. Organisasi badan perdjuangan di Jawa Barat, 1945-1948’, AABRI DI [n.d.].
109 ‘Verslag tugas penjelesaian DI Djawa Barat’, 20 July 1951, AABRI DI no. 15.
Another perspective on the changed relationship between Kartosuwiryo and the Republic can
be found in B. Elson and C. Formichi, ‘Why did Kartosuwiryo start shooting?’, Journal of Southeast
Asian Studies 42-3 (October 2011): pp. 458-86.
142
The Republic’s reaction to Kartosuwiryo’s actions is the paral-

lel thread woven throughout this chapter and at the heart of the
next. As encapsulated in Boland’s and Kahin’s statements, this
relationship is generally understood as Darul Islam’s opposition
to the Republic. Post-independence state-controlled narratives,
expounded in Chapter 6, also propagated the idea that, in the eyes
of the Republican state, Kartosuwiryo and the Darul Islam were
‘the enemy within’. However, it is quite clear their relationship was
more complicated: in 1948 TNI and TII attempted to coordinate
actions on the ground, TII commanders reached out to Republican
ministers arguing they fought the same battle, and several Masyumi
leaders in the Republic’s territory were also inclined towards creat-
ing an Islamic state.
The separation of the political paths taken by the Pancasila
Republic and the Islamic State in mid 1947 had helped smooth
the edges of the secular nationalists and the religious factions. But
the political re-unification of Java after the second Dutch invasion
in December 1948 precipitated a situation in which Kartosuwiryo
openly accused Soekarno of being a weak leader and a puppet of
the colonial masters. Within the Republican ranks, commanders
and politicians were not all of the same mind. Opposing military
and political interests left the relationship between the Republic
and the Darul Islam undefined throughout 1949 and well into the
1950s, as we shall see in the next chapter.
143
5
The ‘War of the Roses’

The Islamic state and the Pancasila Republic
(1949-1962)
[The government] should not consider [the Darul Islam]

an enemy, rather like a father his son. Regardless of how
naughty the son, if taught a lesson he should not be beaten to
death, rather given a lecture, or dealt just one blow, drenched
in affection. It is similar with a domestic rebellious movement.1
Disillusioned by the Republic’s acquiescence to Dutch demands,

under pressure by the TNI’s operations in West Java and let down
by Masyumi’s inability to make political Islam relevant in parlia-
mentary politics, on 7 August 1949 Kartosuwiryo and the dewan
imamah had officially proclaimed the establishment of the Negara
Islam Indonesia.
As shown in the previous chapter, Masyumi’s political leadership
and some elements of the TNI reached out to Kartosuwiryo’s NII in
the following months to find a political solution to what had become
known as the ‘Darul Islam problem’ (soal Darul Islam). This chapter
follows the relationship between the Islamic state and the Indone-
sian Republic in the aftermath of the surrender of Dutch sovereignty,
focusing in particular on how the transformation from the federal
RIS to a unitary state affected NII’s attitude and activities.
Diplomacy had dictated the rhythm of Indonesian politics for
years, with treaties followed by ceasefires followed by their infringe-
ment. Some provinces in the archipelago were slowly warming up
to the idea of a federal Republic under the patronage of the House
of Orange, but the population of West Java – regardless of its alle-
giance to the Islamic state – remained unimpressed by the Roem-
Van Royen agreement, which, far from confirming the country’s
independence, had established the Negara Pasoendan as an instru-
ment of The Hague.
1 Kasman Singodimedjo, chairman of Masyumi, ‘DI anaknja, Masjumi ajahnja’, Harian Ra’jat,
20 September 1955.
The Dutch were buying the allegiance of civil servants and pol-
iticians, and Republican leaders were settling the details for the
transfer of sovereignty. Yet, despite its opposition to the Dutch-
sponsored state, its frustration at the Republican leadership’s dip-
lomatic approach and its anger at the Siliwangi Division’s re-entry
in 1948, the Darul Islam was not yet univocally antagonizing the
Republican government and army.
If one were to believe the image of Darul Islam that has been
dominant since the 1960s (a topic I explore in the next chapter),
it would be easy to think that as early as 1948-49 the Siliwangi Divi-
sion and Republican leaders, concerned with restoring law and
order, openly condemned the Darul Islam as a destabilizing force,
an agent of the Netherlands and a terrorist movement exploiting
and oppressing the people of West Java. On the contrary, archival
sources clearly show that the scattered occurrences of cooperation
that had dotted 1948 continued through 1949, and that, until the
mid 1950s, military commanders and political leaders (mostly, but
not exclusively, from Masyumi) suggested that the Republic should
put its efforts into finding a political solution to the Darul Islam
problem.
shifting approaches: between negotiation

and condemnation (1949-1954)
The ‘Commission for the solution to the Darul Islam problem’
At the end of 1949, two years after the conception of the Majelis
Oemmat Islam and the organization of the Islamic Army, the NII
was well established in West Java and in Republican areas. Following
the second Dutch attack on the Indonesian Republic, in Decem-
ber 1948, Kartosuwiryo appointed a TII consul for the Republican
territory,2 the Central Java branch of Masyumi was transformed into
an MOI, and, in early March 1949, an imam was appointed to the
Majelis Islam in Solo.3
In mid 1948 the Darul Islam had expanded well into Central
Java under the command of Amir Fatah, and groups had been
established in the Banten area, including Malingping, in west-
2 ‘Pemerintah NII – Petikan daripada Piagam2 Imam no. 200/PNII/I/48, 12 December 1948,

JogjaDoc no. 218b, ANRI.
3 Letter from Madjlis Islam daerah Surakarta to Imam Negara Islam Indonesia, 9 April 1949,
146
5 The ‘War of the Roses’ |
ern Java.4 But its influence had gone further than this, with the
dispatching of an NII consul to Sumatra. Although the CMI had
identified some Darul Islam groups outside Java as early as October
1949, it would take a few more years before the DI-TII established
other structured branches and battalions, with their own distinctive
characteristics there. The Aceh rebels, for example, only openly
declared their participation in the NII in 1955.
By the time that colonial rule in West Java was coming to an end, in
early September 1949, the press had already exposed the inability of
the Dutch to respond to Darul Islam’s attacks.5 As the Islamic militias,
which were now defined by the media as ‘bandits’, were disseminat-
ing terror6 and clashing with other soldiers,7 the vice-president of the
Pasoendan state was counting on TNI’s support to solve the problem.8
According to a military source, the intensification of Darul
Islam’s activities was aimed at ‘improv[ing] their [Darul Islam’s]
situation before the transfer of sovereignty to the RIS, meaning
before the region’s control [was] to be transferred to the TNI’.9
The ramping up of activities should be read in both political and
military terms. On the one hand, it represented the Islamic state’s
attempt to conquer as much territory as possible from the Dutch,
so as to appear stronger against the Republic of Yogyakarta. On
the other hand, the Islamic Army felt more comfortable attacking
colonial soldiers, rather than fellow Indonesians.
Months passed, marked by contrasting opinions and the absence
of a coherent approach towards the Darul Islam, as illustrated in
the previous chapter. Then, at its West Java congress – in which
only the Banten, Jakarta, Bogor and Cirebon branches participated
– Masyumi made it clear that it disagreed with Kartosuwiryo, even
if the party was far from condemning his entire movement. K.H.
Wahid Hasjim stated that
every Muslim has to strive for the establishment of an Islamic state,

and Masyumi, as an Islamic political party, agrees with the institu-
tion of an Islamic state. It doesn’t just agree with it, but it also has to
apply itself towards its achievement. What Masyumi doesn’t agree
with, in regards to the ‘Preparation for an Islamic State of Pasoen-
4 ‘Rapport’, Politie Bantam, 8 October 1949, APG no. 998, NA.

5 Antara News, 2 September 1949 and 20 October 1949.
6 ‘Soal TNI dan DI – Petjajaan anggota Parl. Pasoendan’, Berita Indonesia, 29 November 1949;
‘DI menjerbu – 100 rakjat mendjadi korban’, Berita Indonesia, 17 November 1949.
7 Antara News, 3 November 1949, 9 November 1949, 15 November 1949 and 18 November
1949 (in Cirebon, Indramayu and Garut).
8 Antara News, 2 September 1949.
9 ‘Tentara Belanda menggempur DI’, Berita Indonesia, 7 December 1949.
147
dan’, is not its Islamic foundation, but rather the fact that a sepa-
ratist movement in West Java uses the banner of Islam when the
general population wants instead West Java to be a region within
the [federal] state.10
On this same occasion, the party renewed its commitment to the

‘parliamentary way’ of establishing Indonesia as an Islamic state,11
and a week later the national congress in Yogyakarta issued a resolu-
tion requesting that the RIS form a ‘solution commission’ (Komisi/
Panitya Penyelesaian Darul Islam) that would ‘look for the best way
to settle the Darul Islam issue and all that is linked to it’.12
At the transfer of sovereignty, Soekarno named Mohammad
Hatta, Ide Agung Gde Agung of Bali, Sultan Hamengkoeboewono
IX of Yogyakarta and Sultan Hamid II of Kalimantan as formateurs of
the first federal cabinet. This body was not to represent party poli-
tics, but rather was meant as a ‘work cabinet’, representing Masyumi,
PNI, the Christian party and several others.13 More important than
the cabinet’s wide-spread ideological representation, though, was
the fact that the Indonesian Republic of Yogyakarta retained the
majority of seats, whilst the remaining sixteen states and territories
only accounted for a minority.14 This imbalance was to play a crucial
role in the following months, as the Republic of Indonesia (Yogya-
karta) pressed the case for the dismantling of the federal structure
in favour of a unitary one.15
As Masyumi’s prediction that the Darul Islam would dissolve
had not come true with the final transfer of sovereignty and the
subsequent withdrawal of the Dutch – nor had the movement
relented in its violence – the Darul Islam became a problem for
the new Indonesian state. Throughout 1950, politicians across the
spectrum issued comments on what the government and parties
should do about it.
10 ‘Separatisme – mendjalankan move baru dng. nama Islam’, Berita Indonesia, 12 December
1949. The outlook of the federal state and the dynamics surrounding its establishment have
been expounded in great detail by Kahin, Nationalism and revolution, pp. 391-445.
11 ‘Masjumi menghendaki Negara Islam dengan djalan parlamenter’, Warta Indonesia,
10 December 1949.
12 ‘Resolusi Kongres Masjumi tentang DI’, Warta Indonesia, 22 December 1949.
13 The cabinet featured four Masyumi ministers (Finance, Education, Religious Affairs and
one without portfolio), three PNI ministers (Labour, Communications and Information), one
minister from the Christian Party and seven more without affiliation.
14 East Indonesia held the Interiors’ and Information seats, Pasoendan the seat for Social
Affairs and West Borneo had one minister without portfolio. But the remaining eleven seats
were occupied by Republican ministers.
15 Herbert Feith, The decline of constitutional democracy in Indonesia (Ithaca: Cornell University
Press, 1962), pp. 46-100.
148
The debate about a proper ‘solution’ to the problem of the

Darul Islam was opened in December 1949 by Masyumi, which
issued a resolution advocating the political option. Masyumi’s posi-
tion was quickly endorsed by the temporary government of Garut,
which then demanded the formation of a commission to ensure
that the Darul Islam was transformed into a civilian organization.16
The following month in Ponorogo, Muhammadiyah and Nahdatul
Ulama members of Masyumi took a more extreme position, openly
condemning the movement as ‘unhealthy’ and un-Islamic because
of its violent methods, and criticizing it for drawing its ideology
from ‘outside of the boundaries of what is deemed acceptable by
the party’.17
In March 1950, the Minister of Religious Affairs, K.H. Wahid
Hasjim, was compelled to spell out to President Soekarno that
only the Darul Islam had turned its back on the 1945 proclama-
tion. The rest of the Islamic community of the Priangan supported
the proclamation and had repeatedly affirmed its commitment to
the Republican government. Hasjim stressed that the bulk of the
Islamic community should thus be protected from any form of vio-
lence, both at the hands of the Army and the Darul Islam.18
The government appeared strongly committed to a politi-
cal compromise, as Mohammad Hatta and the now Minister of
Defence Hamengkoeboewono IX had attempted for months to
get in touch with Darul Islam’s local leaders, as well as with Kar-
tosuwiryo himself. The government went as far as establishing a
‘contact commission’, under the jurisdiction of the Ministry of Inte-
riors. In early 1950 the vice-mayor of Yogyakarta announced that,
between December 1948 and late 1949, Hatta sent two letters to
Kartosuwiryo: one from his exile in Bangka and one after he had
returned to Yogyakarta. Hatta had asked if the Darul Islam and the
Republic could elaborate a common strategy of defence against
the Dutch; if Kartosuwiryo was interested in receiving a Republican
medal for combat; and if he would reconsider his position on the
Republic once an independent state of Indonesia was established.
These letters apparently went unanswered.19
16 ‘Mosi badan perwakilan sementara Kabupaten Garut’, 7 January 1950, Kabinet Presiden
Republik Indonesia Serikat 1949-1950 [hereafter RIS], no. 85, ANRI.
17 ‘Suara Masjumi terhadap Darul Islam’, Kantor Polisi Kabupaten Ponorogo, 16 January
1950, KabPerd no. 150, ANRI.
18 ‘Nota oleh seorang ‘ulama dikirim dari Menteri Agama RIS K.H. Wachid Hasjim kepada
President RIS tentang ummat Islam di Priangan dan soal Darul Islam’, 21 March 1959, RIS
no. 97, ANRI.
19 ‘Ichtisar gerakan DI/Kartosuwiryo’, Kementerian Dalam Negeri Yogyakarta, 24 July 1950,
149
The ‘solution commission’ was not making any evident prog-

ress. Between late March and early May 1950, several members were
replaced (including Colonel Sadikin, whose position was assigned
to the less politically involved Colonel Wijono), but still the com-
mission was making no progress. The Islamic parties began openly
questioning the competency of the commission and complaining
that the RIS government should be more committed to a political
solution while limiting the military attacks conducted by the Army
against the Darul Islam – an issue that had also been raised at the
KNIP meeting.20 The Ministry of Religion kept redrafting the list of
members of the Panitya Penyelasaian Darul Islam; by August 1950,
nothing had been achieved.21
‘Silently resorting to great military force’
Meanwhile, the movement for a unitary state was gaining enough

political support in Jakarta that in March 1950 the Hatta Cabinet
issued an emergency decree stating the possibility for federal states
and territories to merge into the Yogyakarta-based Republic of Indo-
nesia. Republican propaganda in favour of the unitary state was artic-
ulated in the rhetoric of the country’s colonial legacy. This discourse
was marked by the condemnation of arbitrary boundaries, a heavy
and confusing administrative apparatus and, above all, the suppres-
sion of the spirit of nationalism that had driven the revolution.
The process of unification did not proceed smoothly, as dem-
onstrations ensued in both pro- and anti-unification camps, which
often deteriorated into violence. Even though some territorial
entities had been incorporated into the Republic as early as Janu-
ary 1950, other regions – such as West Java, Aceh, South Maluku,
Kalimantan and South Sulawesi – continued to fight for autonomy
until the late 1950s and mid 1960s (or even later, as in the case of
Aceh). By May 1950 the Hatta Cabinet had concluded that, in Her-
bert Faith’s words, ‘A unitary state had to be achieved quickly’.22
20 ‘Sikap PSII terhadap penjelesaian soal Darul Islam’, 4 May 1950, RIS no. 107, ANRI. ‘Kuti-
pan pertanjaan-pertanjaan anggauta-anggauta badan pekerdja Komite Nasional Pusat kepada
Pemerintah untuk didjawab pada harti-pertanjaan sidang ke-V tahun 1950; mengenai Kement-
erian Dalam Negeri, dari anggauta W. Wondoamiseno (PSII)’, KabPerd no. 150, ANRI.
21 An early draft of the members of the Panitya Penyelesaian Darul Islam (Commission for
the solution of the Darul Islam) was prepared by the Ministry of Religious Affairs (11 June
1950), but subsequent drafts (8 July and 8 August 1950) show the (attempted) collaboration of
the ministries of the Interiors, Religious Affairs, Information and Social Affairs. All in KabPerd
no. 150, ANRI.
22 Feith, The decline, p. 68.
150
The first statement to openly condemn the tactics of the cabi-

net and the army against the Darul Islam was issued by a small
group named Angkatan Muslim Sedar, or Amusa, about which
little is known. The Amusa statement argued that such treatment
should be reserved for Westerling and his APRA troops (Ang-
katan Perang Ratu Adil, Army of the Just King), which were a
‘deviation’ and had nothing in common with the ‘holy aim’ of
Kartosuwiryo’s Darul Islam, the essence of whose struggle should
be valued.23 In a similar tone, Masyumi accused the government
of ignoring its requests to approach the Darul Islam with ‘peace
and compromise’ and instead ‘silently resorting to great military
force’. The government was blamed for giving too much auton-
omy to the army, more often than not endangering the civilian
population.24
In May 1950, PSII leader Wondoamiseno – representing the
working committee of KNIP – questioned the RIS parliament on
its approach to the Darul Islam. Wondoamiseno strongly criti-
cized the government’s decision to use military force and the
army’s inability to limit civilian casualties. He voiced his disap-
proval of the fact that Muslims in the Priangan and Pekalongan
had stopped praying and attending mosques for fear that soldiers
would arrest those displaying the kind of ‘pious’ attitude to reli-
gion that might mark them as Darul Islam sympathizers. Won-
doamiseno concluded by requesting that the government make
public the numbers of those arrested and their arrest reports to
determine whether they had really been Darul Islam members
or not.25 At around the same time, the PSII’s frustration towards
the government reached its peak. After recognizing that the par-
ty’s institutional and individual support for a peaceful solution
had generated no results, PSII’s central committee resolved to
instruct its branches and members to remove themselves from
any bodies that had been set up to solve the Darul Islam problem,
thereby rejecting any further responsibility for the problem or
for its solution.26
23 ‘Angkatan Muslim Sedar “Amusa”, perihal Darul Islam dipolisionil’, General Secretary S.
Ridjaluddin, 24 March 1950, KabPerd no. 150, ANRI. The APRA was led by Captain Westerling,
a defecting Dutch officer who first led rebels in South Sulawesi and then moved to West Java,
where in January 1950 they occupied Bandung. For more on the APRA, see Chapter 6.
24 ‘Statement Masjumi tentang perisitiwa “Darul Islam”’, Ketua Dewan Pimpinan Partai Mas-
jumi Moh. Natsir, 23 April 1950, KabPerd no. 150, ANRI.
25 ‘Kutipan pertanjaan-pertanjaan anggauta-anggauta badan pekerdja Komite Nasional Pusat
kepada Pemerintah untuk didjawab pada harti-pertanjaan sidang ke-V tahun 1950; mengenai
Kementerian Dalam Negeri, dari anggauta W. Wondoamiseno (PSII)’, KabPerd no. 150, ANRI.
26 ‘Sikap PSII terhadap penjelesaian soal Darul Islam’, 4 May 1950, RIS no. 107, ANRI.
151
The duty to restore peace
As attempts to negotiate were failing, and as the army was (success-

fully) conducting small-scale anti-Darul Islam operations between
March and early May 1950, the areas of Tasikmalaya and Pekalongan
saw a number of DI-TNI clashes and Darul Islam attacks on the
civilian population, and combatants were being arrested in large
numbers. At the same time, though, the press highlighted that
in East Priangan, where the population was particularly poor, the
Darul Islam’s scheme of land re-distribution had ameliorated the
general living conditions of the local population, further reinforc-
ing the conviction that the Darul Islam ‘issue’ could only be solved
through a political compromise.27
But the Islamic groups were not the only ones to be disap-
pointed. Cries for a political solution were coming from many
sides, especially after the Yogyakarta police had underlined that
this would have been facilitated by Kartosuwiryo’s diminishing
strength. Wali Alfatah – the Masyumi leader and political represen-
tative for Central Java who was in favour of an Islamic state – agreed
to embark on a mission to meet Kartosuwiryo at his headquarters in
June 1950. However, he never succeeded in meeting Kartosuwiryo,
and was instead held captive for several weeks by Darul Islam sol-
diers. Upon his release in late June, he commented that the imam
would not accept a diplomatic solution and that only military force
could bring the problem to an end.28
In the same month, Hamengkoeboewono IX planned a personal
and unofficial visit to the areas affected by Darul Islam in Tasikma-
laya. Soon after his return, Hamengkoeboewono IX reminded the
population that the army’s role was to maintain order in the coun-
try, regardless of whether the enemy included peasants, labourers
or religion itself. The TNI was thus ordered to cut all supply lines
to Darul Islam headquarters. Despite the parties’ lack of faith in the
efficacy of the parliament, a Republican official encouraged PSII
and Masyumi to cooperate with the government to bring the Darul
Islam to an end.29
Because Kartosuwiryo seemed uninterested in a dialogue with
the representatives of the Republic unless Soekarno first recog-
28 ‘Missi sdr. Wali Alfattach’, Kementerian Dalam Negeri Yogyakarta to Minister of the Interi-
ors RI in Yogyakarta, 10 June 1950, KabPerd no. 150, ANRI.
152
nized the NII, the conviction built up amongst the public that he
was not going to accept any compromise. The Chinese-Indonesian
newspaper Sin Po suggested that after all the effort the Darul Islam
had put into keeping the Dutch at bay, it would never agree to
give up the areas it controlled; nor would the population be keen
on TNI regiments taking their place, as the Islamic militias still
enjoyed much support. An even bleaker picture was drawn by an
official in Pekalongan, who argued that the Darul Islam would not
be terminated by either military force or political compromise, as
it was there to stay.
Eventually, on 30 June, the RIS cabinet issued a declaration pub-
lished in Kedaulatan Rakjat stating that it ‘respected the DI’s ideol-
ogy as one of the political streams (aliran)’, but adding that if the
movement caused disorder in society, the government had the duty
to restore peace.30
The unitary state: ‘A modern form of colonialism’
Between May and July 1950, the federal Republic and the Repub-
lic of Indonesia in Yogyakarta formed a joint committee to work
on a constitutional text for the unitary state. The two ministerial
cabinets approved a draft, but their respective parliaments did not
ratify it. Reiterating the ‘temporary’ character of the 1945 Consti-
tution, this document did not provide a timeline for elections; it
appointed Soekarno president of the new Unitary State of Indo-
nesia (Negara Kesatuan Republik Indonesia), and it retained the
Yogyakarta Republic’s majority in parliament. After reshuffling
the Pasoendan cabinet, warranted by the local leadership’s alleged
involvement in the Westerling case, the supporters of the Yogya-
karta Republic eventually outnumbered pro-federation representa-
tives by 20 members.31
The unitary state was declared on 17 August 1950, marking
the quinquennium of Soekarno’s proclamation of independence,
and thus symbolically casting this Unitary Republic in the legacy
of the Yogyakarta Republic. Soekarno’s ‘Bersatu kembali’ speech,
celebrating the birth of the unitary state, prompted a direct answer
from the Islamic state. The proclamation of a unitary state was a
KabPerd no. 150, ANRI; ‘Statement Masjumi tentang perisitiwa “Darul Islam”’, Ketua Dewan
Pimpinan Partai Masjumi Moh. Natsir, 23 April 1950, KabPerd no. 150, ANRI; ‘Sikap PSII terha-
dap penjelesaian soal Darul Islam’, 4 May 1950, RIS no. 107, ANRI; ‘Soal Darul Islam dan pem-
bersihan jang telah diadakan’, Menteri Pertahanan RIS, 8 May 1950, KabPerd no. 150, ANRI.
31 Feith, The decline, pp. 46-99.
153
heavy blow to the Darul Islam as Kartosuwiryo and his colleagues

still aspired to establish an Islamic state, at the very least in West
Java, with its authority recognized within the federal structure.
The fact that Kartosuwiryo continued to hold on to this goal is evi-
denced by the Darul Islam’s attempt to make a connection with
Wiranatakoesoema and the 1948 Masyumi congress.
The NII’s information office in Pekalongan replied to Soek-
arno’s speech by stating that the unitary Republic was ‘a modern
form of colonialism’, both political and economic. According to
the NII, this transformation was in opposition to the principles of
the 1945-49 revolution, the very revolution that Soekarno pointed
to as the kernel of this new state. Hence, ‘it is impossible for the
Islamic guerrilla to surrender its weapons’, because doing so would
be the greatest betrayal to the Indonesian people.32
A new round of negotiations
Muhammad Natsir was appointed to form the first cabinet of the

unitary state in September 1950. This cabinet’s first priority was
internal security, and, consistent with his August 1949 attempt to
negotiate with Kartosuwiryo, Natsir once again refused to take a
strong stand on the Darul Islam. In November Natsir called for a
general amnesty for all armed guerrillas.
Perhaps hopeful that a Masyumi government would take a positive
attitude towards the issues of the Islamic state and the Darul Islam’s
achievements in the independence struggle, around the same time
Kartosuwiryo sent letters to both Soekarno and Natsir, arguing that
political Islam was the only weapon the Republic had to fight commu-
nism, as they were ‘ideological enemies’. Emphasizing that national-
ism could be co-opted by leftist agitators, Kartosuwiryo suggested that
the Republic should be transformed into an Islamic state.33
This proposal was never taken seriously, but Al Chaidar has sug-
gested that in December 1950 Natsir attempted once again to make
contact with Kartosuwiryo, this time via a former PSII colleague,
Kiyai Muslich. Kartosuwiryo refused to receive the kiyai, but instead
entrusted him with a personal letter for the Prime Minister. In this
letter, Kartosuwiryo offered the NII’s absolute support if Natsir
32 ‘Sambutan seruan PR Bung Karno (Presiden) pd. tg. 17 August 1950 tentang: “Bersatu
Kembali” jg. disiarkan oleh Kementerian Penerangan RI’, Jawatan Penerangan NII daerah
Pekalongan, RIS no. 131, ANRI.
33 ‘Nota rahasia’ from Kartosuwiryo to Soekarno, 22 October 1950, in Boland, The struggle of
Islam, pp. 244-9.
154
were to use his authority to ‘add the letter “I” to the RI’, so as to
transform the Pancasila state into the ‘Republik Islam Indonesia’.34
Sporadic attempts to negotiate continued in the years to come,
but they were to little avail, as Kartosuwiryo was committed to
defending the ‘sacred right’ (hak suci) of the Islamic ummah to
live in an Islamic state. If the Republic was not ready to recognize
the NII as an autonomous state, then he ‘could not be responsible
for the fate of the Indonesian state and people, in front of neither
the Tribunal of History, nor the Tribunal of God’.35 These kinds
of statements by Kartosuwiryo only further polarized Masyumi and
the secularists. The former reiterated its dedication to an Islamic
state through democracy and parliamentary debates – thus signal-
ling its commonality of goals with Kartosuwiryo – whilst the latter
were strengthened in their conviction that the solution to the Darul
Islam lay in decisive military action.
Natsir’s dedication to diplomacy with the Darul Islam was trans-
formed, in January 1951, into accusations that the Darul Islam had
infiltrated Masyumi. Natsir had to explain that attempting to make
contact with Kartosuwiryo and his lieutenants had been a strategy
to reach a political solution and not an indication of complicity.
Within a few days, Isa Anshary, the chairman of the West Java branch
of Masyumi, issued a ‘freeze’ on the Garut party branch on account
of military attacks against Masyumi’s members, accused of collabora-
tion with the Darul Islam.36 Natsir remained convinced that the Darul
Islam ‘problem’ – as well as the unrest in South Sulawesi and Sumatra
– could only be solved through political action and eliminating the
‘source of disappointment’, as the use of military force had initiated a
vicious cycle that was slowly dragging the country into civil war.37
Soekiman’s ‘more resolute way’
Natsir was unwilling to cooperate with the nationalist PNI, and his
cabinet fell within six months of its installation. Soekarno then
requested that the second cabinet, eventually formed by another
Masyumi leader, Soekiman, should be truly a coalition cabinet. The
34 Al Chaidar, Pemikiran politik, p. 116.

35 ‘Nota rahasia kedua’ from Kartosuwiryo to Soekarno, 17 February 1951, in Boland, The
struggle of Islam, pp. 250-5.
36 ‘Masjumi tidak di-infiltrasi oleh Darul Islam’, Berita Masjumi, 12 January 1951; ‘Tentang
infiltrasi DI dalam Masjumi’ and ‘Masjumi Garut dibekukan’, Berita Masjumi, 19 January 1951.
37 Muhammad Natsir, Capita selecta (Jakarta: Abadi-Yayasan Capita Selecta, 2008), vol. 2,
pp. 48-50, 66-8, 230-5, 272-4, 275, 331, 340-5, 371-2, 381-2, 392-8, 422-3; vol. 3, p. 26. These
articles and speeches were delivered between 12 May 1951 and 11 November 1956.
155
resulting coalition was characterized by smoother inter-party rela-

tions, a decisive anti-communist outlook and a clear antagonism
between the government and the army. This tension mostly arose as
a result of the army’s realization that its role was shrinking while post-
revolution Indonesia developed into a constitutional democracy.
These tensions were not eased even by Soekiman’s tougher
approach to the Darul Islam. The cabinet’s early days were marked
by the pride that ‘this [Soekiman’s] cabinet will address the issue
of security in a more resolute way, which will be felt by the people
when compared to the previous cabinet, which endeavoured to
end the DI problem with politics’. To this statement Natsir replied:
‘The cabinet saw the Darul Islam as one aspect of the more general
guerrilla problem […] but I was not qualified to determine how to
end it. Whether [the solution] was political, or military, or military-
political depended on the experts.’38
Despite his stronger disposition towards a military solution, Soe-
kiman did not manage to launch an anti-Darul Islam military oper-
ation, as he had to focus instead on the other rebellions that had
suddenly reawakened in mid 1951. Most strikingly, the agreement
that Natsir had reached, after months of negotiations, with Kahar
Mudzakkar in South Sulawesi, and which sanctioned the incorpora-
tion of his battalions into the Republican Army, came undone. On
the eve of the ceremony, Mudzakkar fled to the mountains with his
men, a group that was estimated to number around 20,000.39 In
the meantime, the 426 Battalion of the Central Java TNI Division,
disappointed with the direction taken by the Republic, mutinied en
masse, swelling the rank and file of the Darul Islam.40
Soekarno’s Pancasila national state and its opponents

Essentially an administrator’s cabinet, Soekiman’s government did
not last long, but subsequent attempts to form a politically coher-
ent cabinet headed by a charismatic leader also failed. After two
months of negotiations, Soekarno resolved to let Wilopo (of the
PNI) form another coalition government. Between its inaugura-
tion in April 1952 and its fall in June 1953, this cabinet saw many
changes in the national climate. Political Islam was weakened by
Nahdatul Ulama’s decision to leave Masyumi, the Communist
Party succeeded in overcoming the legacy of the Peristiwa Madiun
38 ‘Soal DI: Suatu bagian dari masalah gerilla’, Berita Masjumi, 16 May 1951.
39 Feith, The decline, pp. 172, 212-3.
40 Markhaban Fakkih, ‘Golongan santri dan peristiwa 426 di Klaten’ (thesis, Universitas Gad-
jah Mada, Yogyakarta, 1970).
156
(Madiun Affair) and became a supporter of Soekarno and army

hierarchies were reorganized after the 17 October affair.
As noted, Masyumi had emerged during the Japanese occupa-
tion from the merging of various political and non-political Islamic
organizations. During its reorganization after 1945, NU members
had been relegated to the Majelis Sjoero on account of their legal
expertise. In 1949, however, this organ had been transformed from
a legislative body into an advisory committee, stripped of its legal
authority. NU’s final split from Masyumi resulted primarily from
two main factors. First, NU’s political aspirations had been repeat-
edly frustrated: in the two Masyumi cabinets, NU had only been
assigned the Ministry of Religious Affairs, and in 1952 NU had been
deprived of this ministry as well. Second, there continued to be a
great difference between modernist and traditionalist understand-
ings of the religion-politics nexus which entailed quite different
strategies for achieving the Islamization of state and society.
Soon after the split, the NU re-constituted itself as a political
party and joined forces with the PSII, the Sumatran Persatuan
Tarbiah Islamiyah (Perti, Islamic Tarbiyah Union) and a smaller
Islamic party from Sulawesi, to form the Liga Muslimin Indonesia
(League of Indonesian Muslims). Aside from supplying an alter-
native to Masyumi’s vision of Islam and politics, the formation of
the league overall weakened the Islamic front in parliament. In the
1955 elections, Masyumi would finish second, after the PNI, whilst
the NU would finish third, closely followed by the PKI.
The Communist Party underwent much transformation in the
1950s. Dipa Nusantara Aidit, representing the younger generation,
had returned to Indonesia soon after the end of the revolution, and
in 1951 succeeded in assuming the party’s leadership. Gradually
playing down his connections with Moscow, Aidit espoused nation-
alism. By 1953 the party had become openly supportive of Soek-
arno, and in 1954 it embraced the Pancasila. It was this very step
that raised concerns within Muslim circles and marked a change in
Islamic groups’ approach to the state philosophy.41
Masyumi’s and Nahdatul Ulama’s worries rose in the following
years, and not just because the first principle of the Pancasila – the
belief in the one and only God – was being emptied of its religious
value gradually becoming acceptable even to communists, but also
because Soekarno had abandoned his professed ideological neutral-
ity. In late January 1953, during a visit to Amuntai, South Kalimantan,
Soekarno declared that ‘the state we want is a national state consist-
ing of all Indonesia. If we establish a state based on Islam, many areas
41 Feith, The decline, pp. 225-46; Nasution, The Islamic state in Indonesia, pp. 91-9.
157
whose population is not Islamic, such as the Moluccas, Bali, Flores,

Timor, the Kai islands, and Sulawesi, will secede’.42 Whilst in Makas-
sar the following year, Soekarno explained that the first sila should be
understood to include also ‘the animist belief in spirits and ghosts’.43
The 1953 speech made in the Muslim town of Amuntai reso-
nated across the religious spectrum, not least because of the loom-
ing elections. When Soekarno was asked to elaborate further on
the Amuntai statement, he solemnly replied that the Pancasila
already represented a compromise and that what Indonesia needed
now was unity, not debate. Not only would a national state refrain
from opposing Islamic precepts, he argued, but because Islamic
texts include no explicit basis for democracy or elections, Muslims
should not be able to say, ‘My party has the larger numbers, I must
win’. Laying the foundations for his konsepsi (vision), Soekarno
added that democracy was just a means, not a goal in itself, and
what the people needed was a ‘democracy with leadership’.44
These declarations also reassured non-Muslims that even though
Soekarno was a Muslim who often welcomed others with the Islamic
greeting as-salam ‘alaykum and mentioned the Qur’an and hadith in
his speeches, the Indonesian Republic was a national state based on
the Pancasila. Reactions to the Amuntai speech ranged from ‘Soek-
arnoists’ praising his political savoir-faire in ensuring that the nation
would not collapse into a civil war, to religious political leaders con-
demning the statement. Isa Anshary accused Soekarno’s speech of
being un-democratic, un-constitutional and in open conflict with
Islam. Anshary’s comments were followed by the NU chairman’s
refutation of the president’s statement that ‘an Islamic government
would not concern itself with the unity of the people’. Another
reaction came from the Front Muballighin Islam in Medan, which
argued that Muslims did not reject the Pancasila, but felt this was
an ‘incomplete’ ideology. Perti argued that the issue of dasar negara
(foundation of the state) should be surrendered to the constitutional
assembly ‘in a democratic fashion’, without necessitating presiden-
tial intervention. Finally, the GPII sent a letter to Soekarno stressing
that he was misleading Indonesians about the true meaning of Islam,
that he was not teaching them the principles of democracy and that
ultimately he himself was planting the seeds of separatism.45

43 Soekarno’s speech was given in Makassar in May 1954, as reported in Nasution, The Islamic
state in Indonesia, p. 99.
44 Feith and Castles (eds), Indonesian political thinking, pp. 164-70; quote from p. 170.
45 All the above visions are recorded in Sajuti Melik’s booklet, Negara nasional ataukah Negara
Islam (Yogyakarta: Kedaulatan Rakjat, 1953), pp. 10-4.
158
The greatest impact of the Amuntai speech was felt in Aceh,

where in March the crowd received the president with banners
reading, ‘We love the president, but we love religion more’.46
These banners suggested that if creating an Islamic state would
have driven away non-Muslim regions, Soekarno’s Pancasila state
would have the opposite effect, leaving Islamic regions no choice
but to separate themselves from the state. The ‘Manifesto of the
Atjeh Rebels’ issued by Daud Beureueh in 1953 seemed to confirm
this view; because the Pancasila was taking over the law of God,
Beureueh argued, ‘we shall therefore be the ones to secede from a
state that is based upon nationalism’.
Showing some similarities with Kartosuwiryo’s approach, the
manifesto went on to describe not ‘a state within the state’, but
rather a separate state entirely: ‘We have always seen the Republic
as a golden bridge to the Islamic state, but it has now become an
obstacle [….] We urge the Republic not to use arms in dealing with
our problem, we will resist with whatever arms we have.’47
The relation between Soekarno and Daud Beureueh was an
uneasy one as ethnicity, religion and regionalism all played key
roles in defining the links between Jakarta and Aceh. Rebellion
in the westernmost province of the archipelago broke out in 1950
after the central government refused to allow Aceh to be a self-
standing province and forced its merger into North Sumatra. This
act stripped Aceh of its territorial identity, which its population had
also defended at length against the Dutch, and caused changes
in the military hierarchies, as local troops were replaced by non-
Acehnese ones. Internal tensions developed between the uleebalang
as traditional bearers of authority and the new hierarchies insti-
tuted in the post-proclamation years.
Religion was not the primary reason for disagreement, but, as
Aspinall has argued, Soekarno’s failure to establish Islamic law in
Aceh ‘laid the foundation for the fourth great myth of modern
Acehnese history: that of the broken promise’. Hence, the ten-
sions between Islamic, ethnic and territorial identities tipped the
balance, leading Daud Beureueh to join Kartosuwiryo’s DI-TII in
Aceh and pushing him to declare Aceh a ‘federal state’ within the
NII in 1955.48

47 Feith and Castles (eds), Indonesian political thinking, pp. 211-3; quotes from p. 212 and p. 213.
48 Aspinall, Islam and nation; see pp. 31-4 on the Darul Islam. The quote is from p. 31. Aspi-
nall’s main argument is that there was no sense of national identity in Aceh before the twentieth
century, and this absence mostly emerged from four ‘myths’ of local history: the golden age of
the seventeenth-century Sultanate; the heroic struggle for self-preservation; Aceh as backbone
of Indonesia’s national liberation; and the myth of the broken promise.
159
‘Final operations’ against the enemies of the state
Following the fall of the Wilopo Cabinet, at the end of July 1953
Ali Sastroamidjojo formed the first government without Masyumi
and with NU as an independent party. The Nahdatul Ulama was
growing rapidly thanks to its social and political characteristics: for
one, it had deep roots in Java’s countryside, an area that would
be key to the party’s electoral success in 1955; for another, Wahab
Chasbullah, the party’s chairman, had been a close friend of Soek-
arno’s since the 1920s, a factor that was to play an important role
in the evolution of NU’s strategy. In the months leading up to the
formation of the Sastroamidjojo Cabinet, the NU was divided on
the issue of participation. Chasbullah’s pragmatic view, based on
the argument that participation in the government and contribu-
tion to politics was a religious duty, eventually prevailed. The hard-
liners – a faction that took a better-defined shape in the following
years as Chasbullah became increasingly supportive of Soekarno’s
policies – argued instead that as an Islamic party, the NU had the
‘moral imperative’ to oppose Soekarno’s ‘undemocratic’ reforms
to establish the ‘Guided Democracy’.49
The new cabinet set as its first priority the restoration of order
and security. During his proclamation speech on 17 August 1953,
Soekarno reiterated the importance of ending the Negara Islam
Indonesia, now considered the major threat to the fledgling nation.
This goal was to be pursued by applying every tool of the state,
including both diplomacy and armed repression. On this occasion
Kartosuwiryo and his Darul Islam were defined as ‘enemies of the
state’, and within days the Prime Minister officially called for the
forced termination of the Darul Islam, which was now defined a
rebellion.
The speech provoked a direct response from the TII, which
pointed to Soekarno’s statement as a manifestation of his weak
authority and his waning influence on the Indonesian people.
What more, TII accused Soekarno of indirectly legitimizing com-
munist activities against the Negara Islam Indonesia.50 Muhammad
Natsir formulated an equally indignant response: to First Deputy
Prime Minister Wongsonegoro’s call for a komando terakhir (final
operation), Natsir replied that nothing short of rifles, bombs and
mortars had been used in attempting to solve the problem over
49 Greg Fealy, ‘Wahab Chasbullah’, in Barton and Fealy (eds), pp. 1-41.
50 ‘Pendjelasan singkat mengenai 1. Program Kabinet RIK tentang keamanan, 2. Pidato Pres-
iden RIK, menjambut peringatan Proklamasi 17 Agoestus 1945’, Colonel S. Mughny TII, 1953?,
AABRI DI no. 10.
160
the past two years, and yet the gap between the Republic and ‘the
disappointed’ had only widened.51
The 1955 elections were aimed at forming both a parliament (in
September) and a constitutional assembly (in December). Upon the
return of the PKI at full force, the constitutional debate on the ideo-
logical foundations of the state began to shift, revolving now around
three main options: the Pancasila, Islam and Social-Economy (this
latter was inspired by socialist economic principles and democracy).
In this environment, the debate that ensued from the Amuntai
speech quickly became a central aspect of the electoral campaign.
In April 1953 a conference of ulama in Medan issued a fatwa
stating that it was haram (forbidden) for Muslims to vote for a can-
didate who did not work for the implementation of Islamic laws,
even if he represented a religious party. Isa Anshary, who had estab-
lished an anti-Communist front to counter the increasing influence
of PKI, went as far as declaring that it was haram to equate the belief
in the One and Only God with animistic beliefs, and labelled com-
munists as kuffar who should not be buried as Muslims. But Nat-
sir, on the other hand, supported the Pancasila as an ideology that
included most Islamic principles.
On the other side of the fence, the PKI fully embraced the
Pancasila and accused Masyumi of ‘imperialism’ for its attempt to
impose Islam, while the nationalists propagated the idea that an
Islamic victory would signify the complete abandonment of the
Pancasila, the substitution of the Indonesian flag with the crescent
and star and the replacement of the anthem Indonesia Raya with a
song commemorating Muhammad’s migration to Medina.52
the demise of masyumi and darul islam (1955-1962)
Political defeat
The campaign and election process have been thoroughly discussed

by Herbert Feith, and this is not the place to repeat that endeavour.53
It is sufficient to note that the results of both parliamentary and
constitutional deliberations played key roles in shaping the future
of political Islam in Indonesia in theory and in practice. Nation-
51 Natsir, Capita selecta, vol. 2, pp. 48-9.

52 Nasution, The Islamic state in Indonesia, pp. 99-103.
53 Herbert Feith, The Indonesian elections of 1955 (Ithaca: Modern Indonesia Project, Cornell
University, 1957).
161
alists and communists fared better than expected, whilst Masyumi

entered the parliamentary arena as the defeated contestant. In 1950
Masyumi had been the largest party in parliament, but the Nahdatul
Ulama’s secession had taken away most of its support in East Java
and had generally fragmented the ‘Muslim vote’.
Masyumi won the greatest number of votes in almost all the prov-
inces, but, as about half of the total votes were cast in Java, losing
the east and central regions transformed Masyumi into the party
of the ‘non-Javanese’ and left this Islamic party in second place.54
As Soekarno openly placed his bet on the Pancasila, political
alliances and power relations were reshaped. NU changed its initial
anti-Pancasila stand, and Masyumi was left to pursue the struggle
for an Islamized Republic alone.
The efforts of the Islamic intellectuals took several forms:
between 1949 and 1956 some of them published structured propos-
als for an Islamic state of Indonesia, while others were engaged in
more subtle attempts to show how Islamic societies across the world
had incorporated religious principles into their constitutions. In
1951 the Bandung publisher Al Ma’arif printed the first volume of a
compilation of constitutions from Muslim states, including Afghan-
istan, Iraq, Iran and Turkey. A second volume was released in 1955
by the bigger, Jakarta-based (and Masyumi-connected) publisher
Bulan Bintang, with the addition of the constitutions of Egypt,
Saudi Arabia, Syria, Transjordan and Pakistan. The new introduc-
tion to the second volume bears witness to how greatly the political
context had changed between 1951 and 1955. After opening with a
criticism of the fact that the ‘temporary’ constitution had yet to be
validated by the Indonesian people, Zainal Abidin Ahmad, a Suma-
tran modernist, goes on to introduce the book as a reference for
54 In the parliamentary elections PNI obtained 22.3% of the votes, Masyumi 20.9%, NU 18.4%,
PKI 16.4% and PSII 2.9%, and the same breakdown was maintained in the Constituent Assembly.
As per the regional differences, NU was by far the leading party in East Java with 34.1% (Masyumi
11.2%, PNI 22.8% and PKI 23.2%) and South Kalimantan with 48.6% (Masyumi 31.9% and PNI
5.9%). PNI won the majority in Central Java (33.5%, PKI 25.8%, NU 19.6%, and Masyumi 10%)
and West Nusatenggara (37.1%, Masyumi 21.1%, NU 8.3% and PKI 5.3%). But Masyumi obtained
the most votes in all other constituencies: West Java (26.4%), Greater Jakarta (26%), South Suma-
tra (43.1%), Central Sumatra (50.7%), North Sumatra (36.4%), East Kalimantan (25.7%, closely
followed by PNI with 25%), West Kalimantan (33.2%), North and Central Sulawesi (25.1%, closely
followed by PSII with 22.9%), South and Southeast Sulawesi (40%), Maluku (35.4%, closely fol-
lowed by Parkindo with 32.8%). The other exception was East Nusatenggara, where the Catholic
Party won 40% of the votes. Feith, The Indonesian elections, pp. 66-72, 78-9. Nasution has noted that
Islam and communism were both victorious when their numbers are compared with the situation
in the provisional parliament, as they had gained fifty-seven and twenty-two seats, respectively. On
the other hand, nationalists and socialists suffered a heavy blow, with their presence falling by
eleven and nine seats, respectively. Nasution, The Islamic state in Indonesia, p. 107.
162
members of the future constitutional assembly, Indonesia’s Islamic

leaders, ‘as well as all those who follow Islamic ideology’.55
Masyumi was fighting the battle for political Islam on two levels.
First, it was still lobbying for a political accommodation of the Darul
Islam, refusing to label the movement an enemy of the Republic.
And second, it held its ground in the constitutional assembly, sup-
porting the formation of a state based on Islam.
In late 1955 the Republican government was still undecided on
how to bring the Darul Islam to an end. The new Prime Minister,
Burhanuddin Harahap, rejected Ali Sastroamidjojo’s approach and
called instead for the second general amnesty in five years.56 Simi-
larly, Kasman Singodimedjo argued that this rebellious movement
should not be labelled an ‘enemy’, but rather should be considered
to be the ‘naughty son’ who would make no progress if he were
beaten to death; the state should, then, ‘hit’ this son with one blow
‘drenched in affection’. The news was quickly disseminated, meet-
ing with much discontent in army circles, especially in West Java
where the Siliwangi soldiers often clashed with Islamic troops.57
Singodimedjo was not the only politician who believed that the
Darul Islam was not a rebellion. At the 1955 Masyumi congress,
Mohammad Roem argued that the DI, TII and Daud Beureueh were
the party’s allies in the fight for an Islamic state in Indonesia.58 In the
mid 1950s Isa Anshary declared that the ‘Ummat Islam should not
support a government which is not the NII’, and K.H. Chalid Hasjim
of the Nahdatul Ulama proclaimed that Muslims who did not strive
for the NII were hypocrites who lived in ignorance (jahiliah).59
The interventions of the Islamic parties were not enough,
though, and without the collaboration of the army and the other
parties, the amnesty failed to solve the problem. When Ali Sas-
troamidjojo was called to form his second cabinet in March 1956,
he once again proclaimed that he would end the Darul Islam with
force, and this time Masyumi did not oppose the decision.60
55 L.E. Hakim, Konstitusi negara2 Islam (Bandung: Al Ma’arif, 1951), pp. 5-6, and Hakim, Kon-
stitusi negara-negara Islam (Jakarta: Bulan Bintang, 1955), pp. 4-5. Zainal Abidin Ahmad is further
discussed in Chapter 6.
56 Harian Ra’jat, 13 August 1955, in Muhammad Isa Ansyori, ‘Respons Masyumi terhadap ger-
akan Darul Islam di Jawa Barat (1949-1960)’ (thesis, Universitas Pajadjaran, Jatinangor, 2007,
p. 86).
57 ‘DI anaknja, Masjumi ajahnja’, Harian Ra’jat, 20 September 1955.
58 Harian Ra’jat, 26 September 1955, in Ansyori, Respons Masyumi, p. 87.
59 ‘Berkas mengenai Negara Islam Indonesia, Mazuki Arifin no. 366’, in Gerakan separatisme
Indonesia tahun 1945-1965 (Jakarta: Arsip Nasional Republik Indonesia, 2003), pp. 36-7.
60 Harian Ra’jat, 12 March 1956, in Ansyori, Respons Masyumi, p. 88.
It ought to be noted that regardless of these statements, this cabinet was particularly inconse-
quential on several fronts, including finding a solution to the Darul Islam problem.
163
The results of the constitutional elections mirrored the parlia-

mentary vote, making Masyumi’s loss even more decisive, as the
party registered a further decline of more than 100,000 votes. And
in turn, the success of PNI, PKI and NU was all the more resound-
ing, eventually leading to a highly fragmented assembly.
Until the early 1950s Islamic intellectuals had put considerable
effort into combining the principles of the Pancasila with Islam, but
following Soekarno’s speeches in Amuntai and Makassar, many of
these same intellectuals began to feel the Pancasila could be under-
stood in too many ways. The debates in 1957 and in 1959 focused
on the necessity to choose whether Islam or the Pancasila would be
the foundational state ideology. The latter was seen as acceptable
by the nationalists, communists, socialists and Christians, but the
former was considered compulsory by most politically minded Mus-
lims, with some also arguing that it would be ‘undemocratic’ not to
choose Islam because of the nation’s Muslim majority.
Natsir, in his Islam sebagai dasar negara, affirmed the superior-
ity of Islam as foundation of the state, capitalizing on the risks of
secularism (as it lacked a higher, otherworldly authority) and on
the vagueness of Pancasila (which could be rooted in any ideology,
including communism). He insisted that Islam was an overarching
system that would guide Muslims in their worldly lives and into the
afterlife. In making such an argument, as Michael Feener has aptly
pointed out, Natsir ‘counter[ed] what he perceived to be tenden-
cies within contemporary Indonesia to limit discussions of Islam
strictly to religious and ritual matters’.61
The two years of the constitutional assembly provided a stage
for numerous ideological debates. On the one hand, the Islamists
feared that the position of the ‘belief in the One and Only God’
in the Pancasila was theologically weak, and they generally looked
down on the Pancasila for being an empty concept that could
be moulded into anything; they considered both of these points
proven by the PKI’s acceptance of the Pancasila. On the other
hand, the secularists brought to the fore examples of oppressive
and violent Islamic governments in Indonesia, in both former and
present days, including the Darul Islam of West Java.62
In February 1957 Soekarno began to develop his konsepsi – a
political system ‘closer to Indonesian traditions’, which was soon
to become the demokrasi terpimpin, or ‘Guided Democracy’. Seeking
61 Muhammad Natsir, Islam sebagai dasar negara (Jakarta: Pimpinan Fraksi Masjumi dalam
Konstituante, 1957); R. Michael Feener, Muslim legal thought in modern Indonesia (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 2007), p. 87.
62 Nasution, The Islamic state in Indonesia, p. 110.
164
to return to the 1945 Constitution, which also guaranteed stron-

ger powers to the president, Soekarno proposed to the assembly
that the Jakarta Charter be accepted as a ‘historical document’.
Masyumi and NU opposed this solution, unless the charter were to
be included in the constitutional text. The debate was thus frozen
for decades to come.63
The political developments of the following months marked
the end of both the constitutional democracy experiment and the
Islamic state ideal in Indonesia, neither of which would be resumed
until some forty years later, after the fall of the Suharto regime in
1998. Until then, Islamic groups would play a role primarily limited
to the social life of Indonesians whilst lobbying from the sidelines
for change in legislation, thus attempting an only gradual Islamiza-
tion of the country.
In his konsepsi, Soekarno proposed a four-party coalition cabi-
net inclusive also of the communist PKI, which had been excluded
from mainstream politics since the Madiun Affair. As power became
increasingly polarized between Soekarno and the army (especially
after Hatta’s resignation), the Communist Party was to be a buffer,
supported by one and repressed by the other.64 The konsepsi’s sec-
ond point was the creation of a national council composed of func-
tional groups that proportionally represented all ethnic groups and
thus sanctioned Javanese predominance. Such a national council
would implicitly counter the divisiveness of the parties’ ideologies.
Darul Islam and the regional rebellions
The second chapter of Ali’s premiership ended dramatically within

a year of its inception with the proclamation of a nationwide state
of war and emergency. This was soon followed by martial law in
March-April 1957. Military commanders had their powers renewed
after having been sidelined in the post-revolution era, and regional
civilian authority was further weakened. In Jakarta, political par-
ties could not find common ground, and their activities were being
closely monitored and restricted, whilst army officers thrived and
lobbied for more power. After the proclamation of martial law, as
Suwiryo failed to form a cabinet, Soekarno appointed himself – as
‘citizen’ Soekarno – to form ‘an emergency, extra-parliamentary,
63 Feith, The decline, pp. 578-97.

64 This was especially the case as the United States of America was pressuring Soekarno to put
a lid on the Communist Party in mid 1958. With the implementation of press control, journal-
ists’ arrests and restrictions on May Day celebrations, the army became the main arm of anti-
communist policies, transforming the previous triumvirate into a de facto duumvirate.
165
business cabinet’, in which only PNI, Nahdatul Ulama, the Chris-

tian Party and PSII were represented. With Djuanda as Prime Min-
ister, the country was led by an informal triumvirate of Soekarno,
Djuanda and Nasution.
The main reason behind the return to power of army officers
in Jakarta was the string of regional rebellions that had been chal-
lenging the central authority. The peak of political instability was
reached in December 1956, when Hatta, a Sumatran, resigned,
leaving non-Javanese leaders without representation in the govern-
ment. The rebellions stretched from North Sumatra to Sulawesi
and East Indonesia and, as explained in the preface, these were
connected to the Darul Islam in different degrees.
In early March 1957 the army commander for Sulawesi and East
Indonesia announced a state of siege and proclaimed a regional
government independent from Jakarta. In this way, the army inau-
gurated the Perdjuangan Semesta (Permesta, ‘Total Struggle’)
movement. None of the actors on stage made attempts at reconcili-
ation, allowing the conflict to escalate. In late November 1957 Soek-
arno was victim of an attempt on his life in Jakarta, and regional
commanders, as well as prominent Masyumi leaders, were accused
of involvement.
Masyumi had had a ‘soft’ attitude towards the Darul Islam
because of its ideological commitment to the Islamic state, but
the party had been open in its condemnation of the use of vio-
lence. So far as the regional rebellions were concerned, though,
Masyumi had been supportive all along. This fitted with its new
‘non-Javanese’ outlook, as well as its opposition to Soekarno’s kon-
sepsi – which the party saw as anti-constitutional – and its frustration
at having been left out of Soekarno’s ‘work cabinet’.
By the end of the year, Muhammad Natsir, Sjafruddin Prawi-
ranegara and Burhanuddin Harahap had joined the rebellion
in Sumatra, and in February 1958 they announced the forma-
tion of the Pemerintah Revolusioner Republik Indonesia (PRRI,
Revolutionary Government of the Republic of Indonesia), under
Sjafruddin’s leadership. Van Dijk mentions that in April 1958
Permesta and Mudzakkar’s Islamic state signed an agreement ‘to
cooperate in opposing Indonesian as well as international com-
munists who were influencing and manipulating the Soekarno
group’.65 Towards the end of 1959 and in early 1960 the PRRI
joined with DI Aceh and changed its name to Republik Persat-
uan Indonesia. Van Dijk has described this alliance as a ‘coali-
tion of losers’, but for Herbert Feith and Daniel Lev this step
166
represented the rebellion’s alliance with the Darul Islam within

a federal scheme.66
The backlash instigated by the proclamation of the PRRI con-
tributed to the reshaping of government politics in the years to
come. The ensuing repression eliminated all outspoken enemies
of Soekarno and those officers who might have challenged the
authority of Nasution and his faction. It also allowed for the return
of communism as an influential political ideology, and eventually
isolated Masyumi, thus eclipsing the possibility of a fulfilment of
the ummah’s aspirations for an Islamic state.
None of those rebellions had, at their inception, links to the
Darul Islam. However, both the PRRI and Permesta established
strategic links to the Darul Islam in their respective areas. Each
group retained its own primarily regional identity, and the ideo-
logical links between PRRI and DI in Aceh, and Permesta and DI in
Sulawesi, are still unclear.
I suggest that the major difference between Kartosuwiryo’s
Darul Islam in West Java and its offshoots in other regions lay in
the original spark. Daud Beureueh in Aceh, Kahar Mudzakkar in
South Sulawesi and Kiyai Hadjar in South Kalimantan all decided
to join Kartosuwiryo’s Darul Islam after respective rebellions were
already ongoing. Under each leader, these regional rebellions were
framed in Islamic terms, in more or less detail, only after having
become involved in Kartosuwiryo’s Islamic state project.67 In West
Java the process was reversed, as the platform for an Islamic state
had first been developed and implemented when there was no uni-
tary national government to challenge.
operation ‘annihilate’
The weakness of the unitary Republic and the presence of a strong,

regionalized army led to the collapse of the parliamentary system,
giving birth to the ‘Guided Democracy’. After seven short-lived min-
66 Van Dijk, Rebellion under the banner of Islam, pp. 336-7; Herbert Feith and Daniel S. Lev, ‘The
end of the Indonesian rebellion’, Pacific Affairs, 36-1 (Spring 1963): pp. 32-46 .
67 For an overview of Darul Islam-linked rebellions across the archipelago, see Van Dijk, Rebel-
lion under the banner of Islam. On the situation in South Sulawesi, see Barbara Sillars Harvey, ‘Tra-
dition, Islam and rebellion, South Sulawesi 1905-1965’ (PhD thesis, Cornell University, 1974);
Harvey, Permesta: Half a rebellion (Ithaca: Cornell Modern Indonesia Project, Cornell University
Press, 1977); Esther Velthoen, ‘Hutan and kota: Contested visions of the nation-state in Southern
Sulawesi in the 1950s’, in Samuel Hanneman and Henk Schulte Nordholt (eds), Indonesia in
transition: Rethinking ‘civil society’, ‘region’ and ‘crisis’ (Yogyakarta: Pustaka Pelajar, 2004), pp. 147-
74. For the Aceh case, see Aspinall, Islam and nation.
167
isterial cabinets composed by formateurs appointed by Soekarno,

the one parliamentary election – held ten years after the proclama-
tion of independence – never resulted in the establishment of a
cabinet. Instead, the constitutional assembly was dissolved, and by
decree Soekarno re-instated the 1945 Constitution, without amend-
ments, in 1959.
It is this transition that the Army Historical Office sees as pivotal
in allowing the convergence of political and military views on the
Darul Islam, as well as the development of an organized and sys-
tematic response to the rebellion. The order to begin the Gerakan
Operasi Penumpasan (Operation ‘Annihilate’) against the DI-TII/
SMK - as it was commonly referred to - was issued in 1958 (with Per-
aturan Pemerintah no. 59), but the first few months of the opera-
tion were dedicated to studying the movement and elaborating an
anti-guerrilla strategy.
The ‘passive-defensive’ approach, based on stationary deploy-
ment of troops, was abandoned in 1959, and the Siliwangi Division
moved onto an ‘active-offensive’ technique that made use of mobile
units. When it became evident that Republican troops – including
additional battalions from the Diponegoro and Brawijaya divisions
– were unable to overcome the TII, in 1960 the civilian population
was forcibly co-opted to participate in the Pagar Betis operation.
The operation’s name, which means ‘Human Fence’, is a direct
reference to its primary technique. Civilians were arranged in a
long line, each man standing 5-10 metres away from the other,
to form a net that would slowly proceed upward from the base of
the mountain, cutting supplies and isolating Darul Islam units. An
additional advantage for the regular soldiers was that the Islamic
militias were now forced to fire upon civilians; the Human Fence
also worked as a human shield. The operations spanned between
December 1959 and 1965 in West and Central Java, peaking in
1962, when most of the leaders, including Kartosuwiryo, were
arrested or executed.68
Military documents suggest that in late 1961, the army and the
Minister of National Security, General Nasution, set out detailed
instructions for the categorization and treatment of surrender-
ing rebels. The list of names shows how the military were making
political decisions. Importantly, whoever had been involved in
the regionalist rebellions was labelled persona non grata. The avail-
able list include former rebels of national calibre who enjoyed
broad influence on the people, regional leaders who had become
68 Dinas Sejarah TNI, Penumpasan pemberontakan D.I./T.I.I., pp. 124-5; details on the pagar betis
operation are from Van Dijk, Rebellion under the banner of Islam, pp. 124-5.
168
intellectuals in the rebellion and who also had a broad influence

in their regions and regional followers who had local authority.
The list featured prominent Masyumi and army figures suspected
of plotting the attack on Soekarno in Jakarta, including Muham-
mad Natsir, Colonel Zulkifli Lubis and Burhanuddin Harahap, as
well as the officers involved in the Permesta and PRRI rebellions,
and Darul Islam leaders Kahar Mudzakkar, Daud Beureueh and
Kartosuwiryo (all of them listed as ‘national leaders’).69 Even in
late 1962 Sjafruddin, Muhammad Natsir, Zulkifli Lubis and Daud
Beureueh were kept under surveillance and under house arrest
as political prisoners; the only exception was Kahar Mudzakkar,
who had not surrendered and had once again fled to the jungle.70
Kartosuwiryo was captured on 4 June 1962 by Colonel Ibrahim
Ajie. The stories about this encounter are many, manufactured on
both sides to further substantiate divergent myths and legends.
After an accelerated trial, Kartosuwiryo was executed on 12 Sep-
tember 1962, without his family ever seeing either the body or the
grave.
concluding remarks
The Darul Islam and the Indonesian Republic conducted their

activities in a similar manner, opposing Dutch colonial author-
ity and building an independent nation-state for the Indonesian
people. Ideological differences between secular nationalists and
Islamists, during their rapprochement, had been lessened in favour
of these common goals; even after the departure of the Dutch, rela-
tions between the Darul Islam and the Indonesian Republic were
not clear-cut. Masyumi and PSII went to great length to promote
a political solution to the ‘Darul Islam problem’ and to limit the
army’s intervention in the Priangan.
The proclamation of the unitary state in 1950 and Soekarno’s
increased favouritism towards a spiritual understanding of the
Pancasila, which by then would include the communists in his
coalition, resulted in the emergence of substantial and structured
antagonism. Coupled with calls for national unity and pressure to
‘restore peace’ – especially after the regional uprisings in Sumatra
69 ‘Instruksi Menteri Keamanan Nasional no III/B/0056/61, General TNI A.H. Nasution,
AABRI DI no. 33.
70 ‘Saran dalam bidang Follow up Keamanaan, masalah pemberontakan dan gerombolan
jang menjerah’, AABRI DI no. 33.
169
and Sulawesi – Soekarno was encouraged to take a stronger stand

against the Darul Islam.
By the time Indonesians were called to the ballots in 1955, ten
years after the ‘temporary’ constitution had been proclaimed, polit-
ical Islam was between a rock and a hard place. Masyumi had lost
the NU, its non-Javanese outlook had led it to support the regional
rebellions and its founding ideology pushed it to favour the Darul
Islam. These factors contributed to its political demise.
By the end of the decade the army had regained its political
power, and on the issue of the Darul Islam it now had the upper
hand against those calling for a political solution. In June 1962 Kar-
tosuwiryo was captured and Darul Islam activities slowly petered
out.
170
6
From rebellion to martyrdom?
I am a child of DI-TII who is ready to sacrifice himself for Islam.

Remember, oh mujahidin of Malingping, how our imam, S.M. Kar-
tosuwiryo, built and upheld and proclaimed the independence of the
Islamic state of Indonesia with the blood and lives of martyrs, not by
relaxing and fooling around the way we do today. If you are serious
about seeing the glory of the buried Islamic state of Indonesia rise
again, shed your blood so that you won’t be ashamed to face Allah,
you who acknowledge yourselves to be children of DI-TII.1
Kartosuwiryo was executed in September 1962. His death was

announced through a military communiqué, his body never released
to the family and the place of his burial never made known. In the
late years of Soekarno’s premiership, after thirteen years of armed
rebellion, Kartosuwiryo’s body was not the focus of the public atten-
tion that would many years later be lavished on the coffins of the
Bali Bombers Imam Samudera and Ali Ghufron, which were accom-
panied to Tenggulun, East Java, by large crowds in 2009.2 Kartosu-
wiryo’s memoirs, if they existed, were not published, and the media
only reported on his execution at a later date. Even today there is
little certainty regarding the location of his burial, and after half a
century of silent grieving, his grandchildren are publicly demand-
ing DNA tests on a grave on Onrust Island, off the northern shores
of Jakarta, which could be Kartosuwiryo’s final resting place.3
This snapshot is symbolic of the changing debates about Karto-
suwiryo, which rest at the centre of four broadly delimited stages
in the development of public attitudes towards political Islam: con-
demnation, reconciliation and glorification; it is only since 2010
that works have appeared testing a fourth approach that aims at
balancing the previous ones, a trend for the most part spearheaded
by non-politicized authors.
1 Last Testament of Iqbal, alias Arnasan, alias Acong, October 2002. I am grateful to Ms Sidney
Jones of the International Crisis Group, Jakarta, for sharing this document.
2 ‘Govt, media blamed for bombers’ martyrdom’, 10 November 2009, The Jakarta Post.
3 ‘Still a mystery after 45 years’, in ‘Kartosoewirjo’, special edition, Majalah Tempo, 24 August
2010, p. 46.
In this final chapter I reflect on how the Darul Islam and Kar-
tosuwiryo’s actions were received and represented from 1947 until
today. This is the final step in developing my argument on the con-
temporary relevance and legacy of the Darul Islam and Kartosu-
wiryo to Indonesian politics and Indonesian Muslims’ identity.
speculations and the rhetoric of betrayal (1948-1950)
Kartosuwiryo’s call for a holy war in West Java, it will be recalled,

was first received positively by Minister of Defence Kasman Singo-
dimedjo, who had given thanks to God for the bravery of Karto-
suwiryo’s actions.4 Yet, as the Indonesian Republic was gradually
taking shape and relations between the regular army and the
Islamic militias were worsening by the day, the Indonesian press
in 1949 started condemning these ‘wild troops’ for creating disor-
der and undermining the nation-building process. We should read
both press and intelligence reports published in the late 1940s and
early 1950s against this backdrop, which has been explored in the
previous two chapters.
Throughout the first months of 1948, the Dutch struggled to
understand and to keep pace with the transformations of the West
Java branch of Masyumi and its armed wings. At the same time,
the name ‘Darul Islam’ occasionally appeared in Republican police
reports. Even when officials had a sense of Darul Islam’s and Kar-
tosuwiryo’s activities, they often misunderstood the group’s nature
and motives. In fact, the Darul Islam were not the only irregular
troops, and the similarity in tactics made it extremely difficult for
observers to ascertain who was behind the sabotaging of infrastruc-
ture.5
In 1949 and 1950, public discourse about Darul Islam’s vio-
lence focused on the idea that the religious movement had been
hijacked. In October 1949 Muhammad Natsir suggested that there
were two ‘kinds’ of Darul Islam in Java – one truly committed to
the country’s independence and freedom from colonial domina-
tion, and the other one only interested in destabilizing the already
fragile status quo.6
4 ‘Keterangan ringkas tentang Perang Sabil S.M. Kartosuwiryo’, JogjaDoc no. 243, ANRI. See
Chapter 3.
5 ‘Laporan No. 9/6/48 Perihal Darul Islam dll.nya didaerah Jawa Barat’, 29 June 1948, Jog-
jaDoc no. 203, ANRI.
6 ‘Daroel Islam ada toelen dan palsoe?’, Sin Po, 26 October 1949.
172
6 From rebellion to martyrdom? |
Even so, Dutch and Republicans could not agree on who was
behind the supposed hijacking. The Dutch argued that it was an
act of the communists, whilst the Indonesian press was keen on
downplaying this possibility in favour of reading the D.I. as a ‘Dutch
Infiltration’.
Darul Islam and communism
The strings between the Darul Islam and communism were, on

paper, tied very tightly. The first connection between the groups
was drawn in June 1948. Yet it would only be after the Madiun
Affair of September 1948 that Islamic and communist militias were
portrayed in Dutch military reports as two faces of a single enemy,
ready to cooperate to bring down the Republic. These reports con-
sidered Cirebon and Indramayu’s Darul Islam troops to have the
strongest communist character, with the PKI and the Darul Islam
occasionally even sharing their headquarters.7 But it is evident that
this was a localized reality, as in the south TII and PKI militias were
conducting a war of propaganda aimed at garnering broader sup-
port at each other’s expenses.
Dutch intelligence services noted the Darul Islam swelling in
the aftermath of the Madiun Affair. After the Siliwangi Division had
withdrawn from West Java in February-March 1948, these Repub-
lican soldiers were stationed just outside of Surakarta. By mid
September the tensions between Republican forces and anti-gov-
ernment communist troops, whose stronghold was in Central Java,
had escalated to a point of no return. PKI and the socialist Pesindo
militias, estimated to number between 5,000 and 10,000 men, gath-
ered in Madiun on 18 September, took control of the key points
in the city and announced the formation of a new National Front
(Front Nasional) government.
Musso – a prominent leader of the PKI in the 1920s, who had
recently returned from Moscow after living more than twenty years
overseas – was unable to counter Soekarno’s calls for unity and Nasu-
tion’s military attacks. The rebels were pushed out of the city and dis-
persed into the countryside, sparking violence between communists
and PNI-Masyumi sympathizers. Musso was killed on 31 October. Amir
Sjarifuddin was arrested and later executed by the Dutch because of
his involvement in the events. Meanwhile Aidit fled for China, only to
return a few years later to become Secretary General of PKI.
7 ‘Daroel Islam’, 5 June 1948, APG no. 1002, NA; ‘Rapport van Bk. Bandoeng inzake Islami-
tische stromingen in de residenties Priangan en Cheribon’, AIntel, no. 1705, NA.
173
In the aftermath of Madiun, Tan Malaka’s ‘national commu-

nism’ became the only politically viable form of communism in
Indonesia, at least until the second Dutch military aggression. Tan
Malaka was eventually captured and executed by the TNI in Feb-
ruary 1949.8 It would take another five years before communism
could re-establish itself as a political force in Indonesia.
The first references to communist infiltrations in the Darul
Islam ranks appeared in September 1948, when the Dutch uncov-
ered both communist and Islamist literature and military badges
in the same households in Ciawi. This discovery led the Dutch to
argue that the communists, following their strategy of infiltration,
had succeeded in taking over the Islamic movement. They drew
further evidence from the Darul Islam’s effort to redistribute land
among the peasants,9 and the family connections between the Darul
Islam and the left-wing Bamboe Roentjing militias. This much had
already been suggested by the Indonesian press in April 1948.
The Dutch speculated that the Darul Islam had expanded into
East Java, establishing a second Darul Islam group in the Ponorogo-
Besuki-Jember area; this area had been hijacked by communists in
September 1949 and had a different agenda and leadership than
Kartosuwiryo’s (actual) Darul Islam group in the Garut and Tasik-
malaya districts.10 The Indonesian press responded to this theory
by claiming that it was not a hijacking of the movement, but rather
the case that the ‘red’ guerrilla were using the Darul Islam label to
garner popular support and to provoke a greater political impact.11
In the following months this argument gained strength from
additional speculations on Kartosuwiryo’s past, advanced by the
Indonesian army and Dutch information services: he was now por-
trayed as a ‘well-known communist and a prominent PKI leader in
the Southeast Priangan since 1928’. This came as something of a
surprise to the Dutch, as the report continued mentioning that ‘it
is utterly incredible that someone who has been a communist in
the very dangerous years between 1928 and 1942 would now be a
8 Ann Swift, The road to Madiun, (Ithaca: Cornell Modern Indonesia Project, 1989).
9 KNIL report on ‘Dar-ul-Islam beweging’, 2 September 1948, AAS no. 2752, NA; ‘Verbindin-
gen tussen de ‘Dar-ul-Islam’-beweging o.l.v. S.M. Kartosoewirjo en de Tan-Malaka-aanhang’,
21 April 1949, AAS no. 2753, NA.
10 ‘Ponorogo: Daroel Islam’, De Vrije Pers, 19 September 1949. The Dutch also attempted to
argue that the Darul Islam had institutional presences in Panarukan, Jember and Mojokerto,
but they also admitted that a plot to establish a Darul Islam group in Bondowoso had been
uncovered in time to be stopped: ‘And today here there is a communist government, and this is
a strong one.’ Logbericht, Soerabaja, 17 october 1949.
11 ‘Tak ada DI di Madiun Ponorogo?’, Trompet Masjarakat, 5 October 1949; ‘Lebih dikwatirkan
provokatief daripada DI’, Trompet Masjarakat, 12 December 1949.
174
convinced religious politician’.12 The life of Kartosuwiryo was re-

written, and the origins of communism in Java were inextricably
linked with the history of Sarekat Islam.
In this re-invented genealogy, the Sarekat Islam had initially
been divided between Agoes Salim’s cooperating group and the
SI hijau (‘green’ SI), which in 1926 gave life to the Sarekat Rakyat
and Alimin’s PKI in Cirebon. But Salim’s group also split, with
Abikoesno and Kartosuwiryo taking the path of non-cooperation. In
the aftermath of the first Dutch invasion, Masyumi and the Soeffah
(Kartosuwiryo’s educational institution) were transformed into the
Majelis Islam in West Java to challenge the Dutch.13 In the light of
Masyumi’s mobilization of peasants and farmers, the party’s favour-
able disposition towards the left wing (sayap kiri) and Tan Malaka’s
allegedly strong influence on several Masyumi leaders (including
Wondoamiseno, Wahid Hasjim, Kartosuwiryo, Abikoesno, Wali
Alfatah and Soetan Akbar),14 the Dutch had irrevocably established
the connection between the Darul Islam and Tan Malaka’s group.15
The Dutch connected the dots: Masyumi’s roots in Sarekat
Islam’s Islamo-socialism, the individual backgrounds of party lead-
ers, the overlapping of the military and political goals of the two fac-
tions, the labelling of Darul Islam actions as radical and anarchist,
the Darul Islam and PKI’s common interest in socio-economic jus-
tice and land distribution, and the infiltration of communist mili-
tias into the (apparently) emerging Darul Islam in East Java became
solid foundation for their speculative argument.
The religious character of the Darul Islam was then described as
a smokescreen, which at the beginning of the Cold War seemed a
more logical assumption than rejecting entirely the possibility of a
leftist infiltration, especially as ‘it could be assumed that the major-
ity of the people in this country do not see the difference between
communism or socialism and the social dimension of Islam’.16
In 1950 the Dutch intelligence agency declared that all
depended on local leaders and alliances, and as much as West Java
12 ‘Rapport betreffende MI, NII, TNII’, 17 October 1948, APG no. 997, NA.
13 ‘Stukken betreffende verhoudingen tussen Communisme en Islam in Nederlands-Indië’,
AIntel no. 1706, NA.
14 ‘Verbindingen tussen de “Dar-ul-Islam”-beweging o.l.v. S.M. Kartosoewirjo en de Tan-Mal-
aka-aanhang’, 21 April 1949, AAS no. 2753, NA.
15 Harry Poeze has also pointed to the cooperation between the Darul Islam and the Gabun-
gan Lasjkar Rakjat in West Java. See his Verguisd en vergeten: Tan Malaka, de linkse beweging en de
Indonesische revolutie, 1945-1949 (Leiden: KITLV Uitgeverij, 2007), p. 1523. See also ‘Verbindin-
gen tussen de “Dar-ul-Islam”-beweging o.l.v. S.M. Kartosoewirjo en de Tan-Malaka-aanhang’,
21 April 1949, AAS no. 2753, NA.
16 ‘Stukken betreffende verhoudingen tussen Communisme en Islam in Nederlands-Indië’,
AIntel no. 1706, NA.
175
(especially Cirebon) had a strong communist influence, the roots

of this cooperation were an opportunity and not ideological.17 In
more recent times, the intellectual and writer Ahmad Tohari has
suggested that the height of Darul Islam violence in the early 1960s,
especially in Central Java, was connected with communist guerrillas
readying themselves for the alleged coup of 1965.18
The DI: A scheme of ‘(D)utch (I)nfiltration’
The Indonesian press was unimpressed by the Dutch argument,

and, as mentioned above, it often found valid counter-evidence to
the ‘communist Darul Islam’ argument. The press instead argued
that behind the group’s expansion, and behind its most violent
acts, were Dutch officers who were exploiting the current situation
to destabilize the Republic and retain control over the colony.
During the 1945-49 period, some Dutch officers deserted the
Royal Army to join Indonesian soldiers in support of various rebel-
lious movements in the archipelago. The best known case is that
of Captain ‘Turk’ Westerling, who had earned notoriety during his
deployment in South Sulawesi and who, after the transfer of sover-
eignty, became the leader of an anti-Republican, pro-regional gov-
ernment army in West Java – the aforementioned Angkatan Perang
Ratu Adil, or APRA. Mostly because of the territorial overlapping
of Darul Islam and APRA activities, in early 1950 the Republican
Army and the press became convinced that the two were working
together. What is more, they believed that behind the Darul Islam’s
antagonism against Soekarno were the Dutch.
At the opening of the RIS parliament in February 1950, Soek-
arno ‘blamed the groups that are staining the name of Islam with
cruel and violent actions’. And Tempo magazine glossed:
What the President meant was the Darul Islam. Who pursues these
cruelties though, whether it is really Kartosuwiryo’s Darul Islam or
17 On the issue of Darul Islam and communism as discussed above see also: ‘Communistische
infiltratie in de Darul-Islam’, Regentschapskantoor Garut, 6 July 1949, AAS no. 2753, NA; CMI
Publication No. 97, 18 November 1948, AAS no. 3977, NA; ‘Kort Overzicht van de houding van
de Islam met betrekking tot de huidige politieke ontwikkelingen’, 29 April 1949, in AMK Geheim
1901-1940: KVG no. F33, NA; ‘Aantekeningen bij CMI publicatie van 5 Mei 1949 nr. 4797. Exh 10
Mei 1949, Kab Lett Z 42-2206, 1 June 1949, AAS no. 2754, NA; ‘Nota’, Batavia Police Commissar,
31 July 1949, AAS no. 2753, NA; ‘Negara Islam Indonesia’, 1953, AABRI DI; ‘Nota betr. Darul
Islam en Westerling, 2 February 1950, AMK Geheim 1901-1940: KVG no. T8, NA.
18 Ahmad Tohari, Lingkar tanah, lingkar air (Yogyakarta: LKiS, 1999), and interview with
author, 31 April 2008, Purwakarta.
176
a ‘(D)utch (I)nfiltration’, is difficult to tell, perhaps because mem-

bers of the DI-Kartosuwiryo pursue violent acts too, as its mem-
bers have received incorrect information and thus bear a grudge
towards those who are now considered their enemies.
The article continued that
it is known that at the beginning the DI was against the TNI because
it felt abandoned in the occupied areas after the first Military Action
[the July 1947 Dutch invasion] – yet the TNI had only abandoned
some pockets. This resistance will increase, mostly because of the
dangerous rumours that vilify the TNI. This is not an impossible
development in the context of the propaganda conducted by reac-
tionary groups like Westerling, which indeed envisage fragmenta-
tion and animosity amongst us.19
In the following years this argument was further refined, and as

more NII documents showing the involvement of former Dutch
officers became available, the government grew increasingly
convinced that foreign, reactionary elements had infiltrated the
regional uprisings. In 1956 it was even speculated that following
protests from within the Darul Islam leadership, Kartosuwiryo
could have been replaced as imam by Van Kleef, a former KNIL
officer who had been in the ranks of the Darul Islam since 1949.20
Almost thirty years later, in 1977, a Siliwangi publication inter-
preted the Darul Islam as an extension of the colonial attempt to
destabilize the newly established Republic, mildly admitting a possi-
ble underlying religious motive for the movement.21 One year later,
the head of the Siliwangi Division, General Nasution, published his
multi-volume history of the independence struggle, in which he
openly attacked Kartosuwiryo as the internal enemy in the struggle
against colonial oppression.22
19 ‘Bhinneka tunggal ika harus merupakan kenjataan’, Majalah Tempo, 26 February 1950.
Soekarno’s quote also from Tempo.
20 Kementerian Penerangan, Republik Indonesia, pp. 213-35; ‘Gerombolan di Djawa Barat’,
28 September 1956, AABRI DI no. 23. More on Van Kleef’s involvement in the Darul Islam can
be found in Jackson, Traditional authority and national integration, pp. 428-32.
21 The book included a picture of Westerling’s troops entering Bandung with the caption:
‘On 23 January 1950, the APRA troops of the Just Prince entered Bandung to experiment with
the establishment of the Islamic state of Indonesia (NII) with Bandung as capital city or to try
to bring down the Pasoendan puppet state conceived of by Van Mook.’ Madewa, Esa hilang dua
terbilang, p. 92.
22 Abdul Haris Nasution, Sekitar perang kemerdekaan Indonesia (Bandung: Angkasa, 1978)
pp. 15-6.
177
missing ideological reactions to kartosuwiryo’s nii
The previous chapters showed that in the late colonial period

and during the revolution, the Islamic state was seen as a viable
platform for shaping the indigenous nation-state. It was not until
around 1949 that the two trajectories of political Islam that had
co-existed since the Japanese departure went their own separate
ways: one became an engaged armed movement (the Darul Islam),
alternately opposed and ignored by the other, the political front
(Masyumi and its affiliates).
Masyumi’s early calls for an Islamic state in 1945 had resonated
across the country, and suggestions of an Islamized republic contin-
ued throughout the 1950s, as the party reiterated these calls until
it was banned in 1960. Between 1948 and 1956, the debate on an
‘Islamic state of Indonesia’ thrived, both in magazines such as Ali-
ran Islam (Bandung) as well as in book-length publications, often
printed by Masyumi’s printing houses in Bandung and Jakarta.
Yet one would be mistaken in thinking that Kartosuwiryo’s NII
found support, or became an inspiration, among these intellectu-
als. Whilst the party was fighting a political battle to ensure a dip-
lomatic solution to the ‘Darul Islam problem’, those theorizing
possible hybrids for an Indonesian Republic rooted in Islam, to be
pursued through parliamentary consultation, did not acknowledge
the developments that were taking place in West Java. Kartosu-
wiryo’s theoretical elaboration and practical implementation of an
Islamic state prompted no reactions, even as Masyumi ideologists
were theorizing alternative options for an Indonesian Republic
based on Islam. Kartosuwiryo’s activism and writings, which until
1946-47 were part of Masyumi’s apparatus, had been sidelined since
he began his work towards creating an Islamic state in 1948.
In the following paragraphs I introduce briefly alternative con-
ceptions of the Islamic state as elaborated by two political leaders.
One is from the already mentioned Persis leader Isa Anshary; the
other is from Masyumi intellectual Zainal Abidin Ahmad, who
moved in the same circles as Kartosuwiryo in West Java. They tack-
led the same issues and had the same long-term vision for Indone-
sia. Yet it appears that Kartosuwiryo’s blueprint of an Islamic state
was neither embraced nor condemned, but rather ignored by these
politicians.
Kartosuwiryo’s experiment was not appreciably different from
what these Masyumi intellectuals would suggest. However, their
decision to ‘stay in the game’ implied a compromise, especially
as the political climate continued to change. The fundamental
178
difference lay in the political circumstances surrounding the

drafting of these works, rather than in their religious-ideological
stand. I suggest that it is because of these historical circumstances
that Kartosuwiryo turns out to be more relevant to twenty-first
century reformulations of Islamic polity than to his own contem-
poraries.
Isa Anshary first published Falsafah perdjuangan Islam in 1949,
subsequently reprinted in 1951. In this booklet Anshary addressed
issues pertaining to the Islamic state, including its foundations, its
theological underpinnings and its form, making use only of Islamic
sources.23 Anshary advocated the need to establish the Indonesian
Republic on local cultural references (meaning Islam) rather than
on foreign ideologies (Pancasila).
Engaging with the Pancasila, however, he strongly favoured mak-
ing the underlying reference to Islam more explicit: he had a firm
conviction that the sovereignty of God (ketuhanan) could only be
understood in a state based on the Qur’an and sunnah that aimed
to guide its citizens to salvation in this world and the next. The
constitution’s statement of ketuhanan, then, should have included
a clear reference to Islam in order to guarantee the validity of the
laws of God and to prevent people from ‘thinking that they can
have their own interpretation’.24
Zainal Abidin Ahmad (1911-83) was a Masyumi leader, a
Sumatran of Minangkabau origins and the editor of Pandji Islam
throughout the 1930s. His first systematic work was published in
1949 in Jakarta as Konsepsi tata negara Islam, re-printed as Konsepsi
negara Islam (1952), and further expanded into Bentuk negara Islam
in 1956, which included the original of 120 pages, plus 300 more.25
Different from Anshary, Zainal Abidin relied in equal measure
on Western and Islamic thinkers, and he used both traditions to
build his argument in favour of an Islamic state. Offering a glo-
rified version of Western democracies, Zainal Abidin envisioned
a binary structure, in which the Caliph represented the political
authority and the Darul Islam was its socio-economic counterpart.
23 Anshary, Falsafah perdjuangan Islam (Medan: Saiful, 1951).

24 Anshary, Falsafah, pp. 172-5.
25 Zainal Abidin Ahmad, Konstitoesi negara, pendjelasan landjoet tentang oendang-oendang dasar
negara Republik Indonesia (Bukit Tinggi: Poestaka Islam, 1946); Konsepsi tata negara Islam (Jakarta:
Sinar Ilmu, 1949); Konsepsi negara Islam (Bandung: Al Ma’arif, 1952) and Membentuk negara Islam
(Jakarta: Widjaya, 1956). In the meantime, Zainal Abidin Ahmad was also publishing about
Islamic economics, and in the 1960s he translated Farabi’s Ideal city: Zainal Abidin Ahmad, Dasar-
dasar ekonomi Islam (Jakarta: Sinar Ilmu, 1950; 2nd ed. Jakarta: Pustaka Antara / Aida, 1952);
Zainal Abidin Ahmad, Negara utama (madinatuʼl fadilah), (Jakarta: Djambatan, 1964; 2nd ed.
Jakarta: Kinta, 1968).
179
In the introduction to its first edition, Zainal Abidin defined the

Islamic state as ‘an issue which long ago became an aspiration’ for
the Indonesian nation, and it is ‘just because of the lack of under-
standing and knowledge of its form and modes, that at times we
sense hesitation amongst our leaders’. Hence, he had engaged in
this endeavour ‘so that [this book] may reach the level of being
studied in schools’, as well as being read by the general public.26
Zainal Abidin expressed, in his 1952 Konsepsi negara, an under-
standing of the existing Republic as substantially resembling an
Islamic state, but one in which institutions could be reformed
to become stronger through their religious affiliation. Hence,
in regards to the much debated principle of ketuhanan, Zainal
Abidin expressed a different understanding of ‘culture’ from Isa
Anshary, arguing that Soekarno’s ‘cultural ketuhanan’ was ‘a ketu-
hanan that holds firm tolerance’, and ‘a ketuhanan whose char-
acter and external features offer the people freedom to follow
any religion they like’. This ketuhanan would be fully acceptable
within the framework of an Islamic state. Further, he praised the
Indonesian Republic for laying ‘an important stone’ in building
a religious foundation for the state by establishing the Ministry of
Religious Affairs and re-affirming the Pancasila itself.27 Yet, in the
same text he offered suggestions for strengthening the religious
character of the constitutional text, the structure and foundation
of the state, its institutional features, the election of the head of
state, the structure of religious bodies and of the education sys-
tem, and more.28
As domestic politics and the position of political Islam in
Indonesia were changing, in 1952 Zainal Abidin had modified
his approach. In the second revised edition of 1956 those instruc-
tions had disappeared, substituted by a general recommendation
to draft a constitutional preamble ‘briefly identifying the ideology
and basics principles that will become the hukum abadi [eternal
laws] of the state’.29 In this changed political environment, Zainal
Abidin was testing intellectual avenues to affirm that the Indone-
sian Republic already was, substantially, an Islamic state.
Zainal Abidin’s efforts to frame the current state as Islamic were
made clearer in 1956, when he argued that ‘there is no obstacle for
each state to have its own slogan as dasar negara, so long as it doesn’t
undermine the four pillars [amanah, keadilan, ketuhanan, kedaulatan
26 Ahmad, Konsepsi tata negara Islam, ‘Introduction’ (Pendahuluan untuk tjetakan ke II).
27 Ahmad, Konsepsi negara, p. 43.
28 Ahmad, Konsepsi negara, p. 107.
29 Ahmad, Konsepsi negara, p. 107; Ahmad, Membentuk negara, p. 100.
180
rakyat30] we have mentioned [as fundamental for an Islamic state],

so it is not wrong if the Indonesian state recognizes the Pancasila
mentioned in the constitution’.31
The minimum standard for a sound Islamic state was iden-
tified as having both a Muslim president and a majority Muslim
population that would have the largest presence in the national
and regional government bodies. To these two criteria Zainal Abi-
din added that Islam must be acknowledged as the ideology of the
state, which already included the elements of an Islamic govern-
ment. Yet he allowed that these Islamic elements might bear a dif-
ferent name (Pancasila, for example), so long as the law of the state
does not contradict Islamic laws and the constitution guarantees
mushawarah (consultation) and democratic principles.32 Arguably,
in 1956 the Indonesian Republic was close enough to Zainal Abidin
Ahmad’s proposed Islamic state.
Zainal Abidin’s writing consistently reflects the contemporary
political situation of his time. As such, it is worth noting that in the
context of the constitutional assembly Zainal Abidin argued that it
was not enough to have Islam as ‘founding ideology of the state’,
and that more substantial steps needed to be taken to consolidate
the position of Islam in the Indonesian state. To support his argu-
ment, he cited the opinions of Islamic scholars on various Islamic
constitutions, including those of Medina, the Abbasids, Turkey and
Egypt.33
building the image of a ‘sterile rebel’
In the decades between 1950 and the mid 1990s, the Soekarno
regime, the army and the New Order – with the tacit complicity
of Islamic organizations – pursued a campaign aimed to portray
the Darul Islam as a group of bandits who had attacked Dutch and
Republican soldiers in equal measure, terrorizing the civilian popu-
lation and destabilizing the country. Whether the Darul Islam was
a channel for extended Dutch infiltration, communist activities
or local grievances mattered little to the propagandists, and their
explanations did not touch upon the movement’s Islamic nature.
In this environment, public discourse focused on the rhetoric of
30 Safety, justice, belief in God, people’s sovereignty.

31 Ahmad, Membentuk negara, p. 76.
32 Ahmad, Membentuk negara, pp. 159-66.
33 Ahmad, Membentuk negara, pp. 14-5.
181
national betrayal. Indonesian commentators depicted Kartosu-

wiryo as driven by self-interest and personal ambitions for political
power, and his religiosity was labelled as ‘mystical’. Kartosuwiryo’s
character was entirely sterilized of its ideological motivations, while
the Darul Islam became associated with violence and, ultimately,
with defeat.
Before outlining this second phase, however, I first turn to the
Darul Islam’s initial appearance in Western academic discourse
and, arguably, to the last instance of Kartosuwiryo’s being defined
as a politician rather than a rebel or a martyr. In 1950 Van Nieu-
wehuijze described the Darul Islam as a movement that ignored
calls for unity in the anti-colonial struggle in favour of outright con-
frontation in striving to establish an independent state of Indonesia
solely based on Islam.
For Van Nieuwehuijze, ‘the dār ul-Islām ideal is fulfilling the
same function in Javanese society that is performed by revivalist
movements in primitive societies […] Amidst a socio-spiritual life
that has been experiencing a deep shock, [the common man] is
groping for values that possess certainty and permanence’, while
the ‘supernatural authority’ – a pattern of pre-Islamic societies – is
embodied by the Islamic customary authority of the ulama.34 Here
Kartosuwiryo was described as a Muslim politician dedicated to the
anti-Dutch struggle, the leader of a terrorist movement and pos-
sibly a crypto-communist, for whom Islam is the common referent
for an alternative paradigm to Western domination.
Condemnation: Mysticism, violence and defeat
As Indonesia was slowly settling into being an internationally rec-

ognized independent nation-state, the Ministry of Information led
the first attempt to produce a national historiography project, pub-
lishing a series of volumes illustrating the history of each province.
The volume on West Java appeared in 1953. Here the Darul Islam’s
activities are described as ‘rotat[ing] around the individual aspira-
tions of Kartosuwiryo’, a man driven by feelings of political disap-
pointment, fanaticism, religious dogmatism and adventurism.35
A pseudo-figurant (or ‘fake leader’) who used Islam as a tool
to achieve governmental aspirations and who relied on political
34 C.A.O. van Nieuwenhuijze, ‘The Darul Islam movement in Western Java’, Pacific Affairs 23-2
(1950): pp. 181-2.
35 Kementerian Penerangan, Republik Indonesia, p. 232. In the same year volumes also
appeared on Sumatra (North, South and Central), Sulawesi, Sunda Kecil and East Java.
182
opportunism to rally popular support, Kartosuwiryo is an evil per-

son, for whom it ‘is better to die than to face defeat’. Kartosuwiryo
emerges as a man dedicated to increasing his personal power, and
for whom Islam is merely an instrument for gathering support. On
this foundation, the ministry initiated a parallel discourse to Karto-
suwiryo’s motives: that of villagers’ resistance and opposition to the
Darul Islam.36
This same position was also taken by Western scholar Karl D.
Jackson in the 1970s. A behavioural political scientist, Jackson
argued that villagers in West Java decided whether or not to join
the Darul Islam according to patterns of traditional authority,
mirroring their village leaders. Islam, Jackson argued, was inte-
gral to the Darul Islam only so far as ‘it supplie[d] groups that
[we]re heterogeneous in their religious beliefs with a panoply
of symbols that [could] be used to legitimize the leadership and
ignite political action’.37 I shall not dwell further on this piece
of scholarship, as Ruth McVey has systematically deconstructed
Jackson’s methodology and arguments, pointing to his inap-
propriate choice of applying a ‘laboratory-like experiment’ to
a social movement. Jackson had rooted his study in a survey of
more than 200 questions to a sample of villagers not really rep-
resentative of the Priangan population, a choice that for McVey
highlighted how Jackson did not have a comprehensive under-
standing of Islam or of Sundanese society.38 Jackson was, however,
not the only scholar who opted to ignore the importance of Islam
in Kartosuwiryo’s activities and ideals on the basis of his ‘mystic
hence unorthodox’ beliefs, as already discussed in the Preface
and Chapter 1.
In the aftermath of Kartosuwiryo’s capture and execution in
1962, the army and the government conducted a campaign pre-
senting the Darul Islam as a terrorist movement supported by anti-
nationalist and anti-Republican forces, whose costs were borne
most heavily by the civilian population. Its religious-political goals
and Kartosuwiryo’s ideological depth were systematically flattened,
and in combination with the absence of public debate on the sub-
ject, Kartosuwiryo slowly began to emerge as what I describe as a
‘sterile rebel’.
36 Kementerian Penerangan, Republik Indonesia, pp. 218, 234-5. On p. 262 the picture of a
village gathering bears the following caption: ‘The Islamic community of Ciparay, under the
leadership of its religious scholars, gathers in large numbers to cleanse the area of elements of
the Darul Islam group that stir trouble.’
37 Jackson, Traditional authority and national integration, p. 126.
38 Ruth Thomas Mcvey, ‘Reviewed work: Traditional authority, Islam, and rebellion: A study of
Indonesian political behavior by Karl D. Jackson,’ Pacific Affairs 54-2 (1981).
183
Unlike the Dutch authorities in the 1920s-40s and Islamist activ-

ists in the 2000s, who highlighted the religious quality of Karto-
suwiryo’s actions, Indonesian commentators throughout the 1960s
slowly erased religion from the picture. Earlier suggestions that Kar-
tosuwiryo was a fanatic Muslim were quickly superseded by sugges-
tions that he had markedly mystical tendencies. Amak Sjariffudin
stressed how Kartosuwiryo was seen by his followers as a receiver of
the wahyu Cakraningrat Sadar, bearer of the title of ‘Representative
of God to the entire Islamic community’, and thus holder of tra-
ditional symbols of authority; this status was also demonstrated by
him carrying a keris, a cundrik, and amulets.39 Sjariffudin’s is the first
description of Kartosuwiryo that unveils the underlying complexity,
and perhaps even the internal contradictions, of his character as an
Islamic leader.
The mixture of mysticism and religious fanaticism would
become a recurrent theme; more importantly, it would become the
foundation for arguing that Kartosuwiryo was not genuinely com-
mitted to an Islamic state. Because of his lack of formal religious
education, his ignorance of Arabic and his own followers’ belief
in supernatural forces (elements first brought to light in a 1964
army-sponsored biography written by Pinardi), Kees van Dijk and
Deliar Noer have argued that Kartosuwiryo was ‘a dedicated sufist’.
Because ‘Sufism is almost the direct opposite of modernism’, he
‘definitely does not seem to fit into [Sarekat Islam’s modernist]
atmosphere’, Van Dijk sentenced in 1981.40
The various political and scholarly approaches were supple-
mented by visual representations constructed by the military for
wider public consumption. These memorabilia, pictures and
graphic dioramas were publicized in museums and publications,
and were often dedicated to highlighting the struggle against the
Darul Islam.
One such museum is the Siliwangi museum in Bandung, which
was opened in 1966 by Kartosuwiryo’s captor, Ibrahim Ajie. The
museum’s collection focuses on the rebellion in West Java, high-
lighting the destruction carried out by the militias and the social
involvement of the army in the post-conflict period. The most inter-
esting pieces held here are the personal belongings of Kartosuwiryo
and his wife at the time of their capture: he was reportedly holding
a keris and a golok, whilst she was wearing a baju-sarong outfit. A large
drum is placed right at the entrance to the gallery with a caption
39 Amak Sjariffudin, Kisah Kartosuwirjo, pp. 7, 20-1.

40 Van Dijk, Rebellion under the banner of Islam, pp. 8, 27-8, 391-6; Noer, The modernist Muslim
movement, p. 148.
184
stating that it was used to call Darul Islam soldiers to prayers. From
this we can infer that the curators aimed to depict the couple and
their followers as traditional Javanese and Sundanese characters,
rather than as ‘orthodox’ or ‘fanatical’ Muslims.
At the same time that mysticism was being used to undermine
Kartosuwiryo’s dedication to the Islamic state ideal, the more gen-
eral propaganda campaign continued to focus on the Darul Islam’s
betrayal of nationalist aspirations, as well as on its indiscriminate
violence against civilians and on the defeat of a weak local move-
ment by a strong unitary army.
After 1968 several publications commemorated the struggle
of the Siliwangi troops in West Java against external and internal
enemies, and attempted to belittle the Darul Islam movement’s
religious motivations, while emphasizing its violent overtones. With
hardly an exception, Kartosuwiryo’s character and personal dimen-
sion were absent from these books, as the focus shifted to the nega-
tive impact of the rebellion on the civilian population.
Yet, his name and face have remained omnipresent. The cover
of Album peristiwa pemberontakan DI-TII di Indonesia summarized the
numerous tales of the Darul Islam’s terror that for years had been
fed to the public: trains are derailed, villages ransacked and burnt
down, peasants are running away with their newborns, while the
TNI is bravely fighting the rebels. Kartosuwiryo’s face is printed at
the top of the page together with Daud Beureueh’s, representing
their similar leading role in such destruction.
These books show readers how dangerous the Darul Islam was,
how violent and immoral their actions had been and how dedicated
the Republican TNI was to reconstructing the affected areas in the
1960s. They also show how weak the movement had become, as the
rebels’ headquarters are pictured as shacks in the jungle and their
leaders as either dead, defeated or captured. Since the mid 1950s,
pictures of bloody militias have been shown next to healthy Repub-
lican soldiers. When Kartosuwiryo was included in the picture, he
was usually portrayed as either bed-ridden or next to Colonel Ibra-
him Ajie, invariably looking sick and emaciated from fighting, star-
vation and illness.41
41 The peak of TNI propaganda was reached with an exhibit of pictures showing Siliwangi
soldiers rebuilding roads, schools and mosques all over the Priangan region, the heartland of
the rebellion. Interestingly, these images of the army’s role in rebuilding the region are not
present in the army’s own publications, but instead dominate the scene in army museums.
Other symbolic images include those of Kartosuwiryo being ‘returned to civilization’ as his
hair is cut, and those of him facing the reading of his death sentence. Madewa, Esa hilang dua
terbilang.
185
In its first decade, the New Order regime dedicated consider-

able attention to separating the social and political dimensions of
Islam. Throughout the 1970s political Islam became the bête noire
of the regime, whilst at the same time Suharto pushed individual
piety as an anti-communism policy. The building of mosques and
the encouragement to attend sermons under repressive rule trans-
formed these places of worship into the only available spaces for
youths’ and dissidents’ gatherings and discussion. When these local
manifestations of Islamic piety met with the ongoing international
Islamic revival, the radicalization of Islam – whether political or
spiritual – was almost inevitable.
On the other hand, the government merged all Islamic par-
ties into the Partai Persatuan dan Pembangunan (PPP, Unity and
Development Party) to ensure that religious groups would not ben-
efit from the elimination of communism and to capitalize on the
different souls of the religious movement. The senior leadership
of Masyumi still advocated some combination of state and religion,
whilst the younger generation called for a renewal of Islam, argu-
ing that the Islamic state was now a mirage.42
The results of the elections of 1977 were not appreciably different
from those of 1971 in number: the Golkar government party main-
tained its 62% majority; the nationalists, rearranged into the Partai
Demokrat Indonesia, or PDI, slid from 10% to 8.6%, and the PPP
Islamic party was still just under 30%. Yet, in the time between the two
elections, Golkar’s approach to Islam had changed dramatically. As R.
William Liddle has pointed out, ‘In 1971 Golkar had had a strongly
anti-Islamic image and had actively cultivated the support of the aban-
gan [nominal Muslims], who fear a theistic state should political Islam
come to power. By 1977 Golkar had many local Islamic teachers in its
camp […] and used them to counter PPP arguments that Muslims
were obliged to choose the Ka’abah,’ meaning voting for the PPP.43
In the long term, the New Order’s support for Islamic piety and
its repression of its political expressions backfired, much as similar
Dutch efforts had in the late colonial period.
Reconciliation: keep your friends close, but your enemies closer
The campaign that for decades had condemned Kartosuwiryo and

his movement as anti-Republican and anti-national came to a halt
42 Hefner, Civil Islam, pp. 100, 126.

43 R. William Liddle, ‘Indonesia 1977: The New Order’s second parliamentary election’, Asian
Survey 18-2 (February 1978): pp. 175-85; quote on p. 181.
186
in the early 1980s. The denunciation of Kartosuwiryo was first soft-

ened and then suspended. When it was replaced years later, it was
with a new critique that distinguished between the means and the
goals of the struggle, bearing witness to Suharto’s attempted recon-
ciliation with Islamic groups in the late 1980s and mid 1990s.
Before this new wave of critiques, however, in 1983 Suharto
announced the asas tunggal policy, according to which all organiza-
tions and parties had to affirm their foundation in the Pancasila.
Whilst this policy was intended to eradicate Islam from politics –
NU, for example, refused to abide by this principle and withdrew
from politics – its unintended outcome was that now religion could
no longer be confined to one party (the PPP), and religiously
informed politicians could now spread their influence across the
political stage. Several Nahdatul Ulama leaders lent their support
to Golkar during the electoral campaign of 1987, and the PPP lost
more than 10% of its votes.44
The 1980s were marked by three important phenomena: the
religious revival, the secularists’ increasing interest in democratic
reforms and the military’s mild opposition to Suharto. During this
time, Suharto began to see conservative Muslims as suitable new
allies, and the New Order changed its attitude towards Islam.
The tension between the ideological and violent aspects of the
Darul Islam are probably best represented in the ABRI museum
Waspada Purbawisesa, the Museum of Eternal Vigilance. This
museum was opened in Jakarta in November 1987 by Suharto,
with the objective of ‘present[ing] some of the historical facts sur-
rounding the cruelty of DI-TII terrorism’ and with the intention of
‘building and placing on a solid foundation the nation’s determi-
nation to preserve the Pancasila and the 1945 Constitution’.45 The
museum exhibits charts, maps, pictures, archival documents, min-
iatures and memorabilia laid out in such a manner as to establish
an intelligible framework for the TNI operations against the Darul
Islam across the archipelago.
Katharine McGregor has claimed, in her History in uniform, that
‘a visitor to the Museum of Eternal Vigilance is provided with only
one motive for the Darul Islam rebellions: the establishment of an
Islamic state’.46 However, as a visitor I did not have the same impres-
sion, and the group’s religious motivations do not appear as evident
44 Hefner, Civil Islam, pp. 167-8. PPP went down from 27.8% in 1982 to 16% in 1987
45 Museum Waspada Purbawisesa, Museum Waspada Purbawisesa: Buku panduan. 3rd ed. (Jakarta:
Markas Besar Angkatan Bersenjata RI, Pusat Sejarah dan Tradisi ABRI, 1997 [1995]), p. iii.
46 Katharine E. McGregor, History in uniform: Military ideology and the construction of Indonesia’s
past (Singapore: NUS Press, 2007).
187
as its violent means. Within a few years after the museum’s opening,
the story was to change. Despite there being very little evidence to
indicate the Darul Islam’s dedication to the Islamic cause, the guide
to the building, published in the mid 1990s, describes Kartosuwiryo
as having been committed to the Islamic state since 1938 and con-
textualizes the Darul Islam’s actions within the framework of the
Islamic political cause and the anti-colonial struggle.47 I suggest
that this change, which in the long term helped the elaboration
of alternative, positive visions of the movement, was the result of
the state’s new relation with Islam. By the early 1990s, Suharto had
relaxed limitations to public displays of religion and had strength-
ened his own Islamic credentials. The regime allowed headscarves
and increased the offering of religious subjects in state schools, wid-
ened the powers of Islamic courts and recognized the Palestinian
Authority. The presidential family went on hajj and supported the
opening of the first Islamic bank. Catholic officers were replaced
by ‘Green Generals’, more sympathetic towards Islam. Also, the
conservative Ikatan Cendekiawan Muslim Indonesia (ICMI, Asso-
ciation of Muslim Intellectuals) was established.48
Yet an underground rapprochement had already started as early
as the 1960s. Under the cover of New Order repression, political
Islam had come to represent the new enemy, but as the autocratic
regime required a careful balancing of forces, the secret services
orchestrated occasional releases of pressure. This great scheme of
co-optation was doomed to fail, as former members of the Darul
Islam were not prepared to be played as puppets and sought
instead to take advantage of the movement’s guided reorganization
to reconnect with each other and regain their strength.
The Darul Islam had been officially disbanded in 1962, when
the movement’s top leaders signed a Joint Proclamation (Ikrar Bers-
ama) acknowledging that they had been ‘wrong and misguided’ and
affirming their allegiance to the Republic. Yet the quashing of the
rebellion and the curbing of the Islamic state dream did not imply
the total disappearance of the movement. In the 1960s the army
made occasional use of its militias, as was the case during the alleged
coup of 30 September 1965, for example, when former Darul Islam
members in West Java and northern Sumatra were given weapons to
attack suspected communists. In the words of a Darul Islam veteran,
‘Between 1962 and 1968, the Islamic state of Indonesia was buried
by the worldly facilities that the enemy provided’.49
47 Museum Waspada Purbawisesa, p. 2.

48 Schwarz, A nation in waiting, p. 175.
49 Jones, ‘Recycling militants’, pp. 2-3.
188
As Suharto was consolidating his newly acquired power, the dis-

banded Islamic Army offered an appealing pool of unofficial mili-
tary supporters, especially as their collaboration was granted on the
expectation that Islam would substitute communism as the new
ideological ally of the state.
In the early 1970s the New Order continued to press forward
with its co-optation policies, and the Badan Koordinasi Intelijen
Negara (BAKIN, National Intelligence Coordination Body), under
Ali Moertopo’s guidance, became involved in the reconstruction
of the NII leadership. In 1973 Daud Beureueh was made a military
commander, and the following year he became imam. Yet once the
movement’s resurrection had been secured, tensions were quick
to emerge. Daud Beureueh’s policy of ‘diplomacy and consolida-
tion’ caused the first split in 1976, when Gaos Taufik – a former
Hizboellah and Darul Islam member from Garut – deemed the
times ripe to re-open a jihad front and created Komando Jihad
as a jihadist re-embodiment of Kartosuwiryo’s group. Moertopo’s
creation had released itself from the tight embrace of the govern-
ment: at the end of the decade power struggles fragmented the
organization, and Adah Djaelani – a first-generation fighter from
West Java who had been co-opted by BAKIN in the early 1960s –
bypassed Daud Beureueh and rose to the position of imam. He
then reinstated Kartosuwiryo’s sons and original associates back
into the dewan imamah.50
The fragmentation of this new Darul Islam did not lead to the
fading of its activities, but rather to their proliferation. By the late
1970s Komando Jihad had expanded its operations to Sumatra and
Flores, leading the police to crack down on the entire organization
between 1979 and 1982. Adah Djaelani was also arrested, and by
1986-87 it had become clear that the movement could not proceed
without an acting imam. The election of Masduki transformed yet
again the outlook of the Darul Islam, most importantly by fostering
the development of its international connections. In the changed
context of the mid 1980s, Abu Bakar Ba’asyir and Abdullah Sung-
kar often travelled to Afghanistan and the Middle East. The goal
of an Islamic state of Indonesia evolved into that of a transnational
caliphate.51
In the years that followed, this jihadist soul of the Darul Islam
alienated the sympathies of those committed to the socio-reli-
50 Jones, ‘Recycling militants’, p. 22.

51 Jones, ‘Recycling militants’, pp. 2-3. For more details on Darul Islam’s re-embodiments in
the 1970s-90s, see Quinton Temby, ‘Imagining an Islamic state in Indonesia’, Indonesia 89 (April
2010): pp. 1-36.
189
gious advancement of the ummah, including the usroh movement,

inspired by the Egyptian Muslim Brotherhood. This jihadist faction
eventually became the Jemaah Islamiyah in 1993. The Darul Islam
movement was, overall, rarely weakened by these splits, as it was
able to absorb their impact by multiplying and differentiating its
strategies and priorities. It gave birth to the cell-based usroh move-
ment, the institutional Majelis Mujahidin Indonesia and the inter-
national jihadist Jemaah Islamiyah: in the words of a Darul Islam
member, ‘The Darul Islam is a house with many rooms, enough for
all the factions’.52
In late November 1997, seventeen activists were arrested in Solo
on the heels of a number of other arrests in West and Central Java.
During the raid, the police reportedly found only one book, and it
was about Kartosuwiryo and his struggle. Interviewed on the issue,
a commentator declared: ‘This NII that we have now cannot be
separated from the first NII.’53
What has kept these various factions under a single roof is Kar-
tosuwiryo’s project of establishing a Negara Islam Indonesia. The
deep desire to revive Kartosuwiryo’s memory and goals has led to
his public re-interpretation as hero and model in the post-Suharto
era.
Glorification
From 1962 onwards, the Indonesian government and military

apparatus worked hard to erase the memory of Kartosuwiryo as a
nationalist politician as well as a religiously inspired leader, instead
promoting a single image of him as a separatist rebel whose actions
were directly aimed at fragmenting the unitary republican state.
However, since the end of the New Order regime in 1998, we have
witnessed a proliferation in alternative visions of this ‘enemy of the
state’, now often portrayed as a martyr.
I have suggested that the transformation of the portrayal of
the Darul Islam and Kartosuwiryo – from enemy of the nation,
to absentee, to dedicated Muslim – should be read as mirroring
the transformations in public attitudes towards Islam. As noted
above, the government’s sterilization of Kartosuwiryo was heralded
by the obliteration of his religious dimension (of both his charac-
ter and his movement’s rebellion) and his gradual disappearance
from public discourse in the 1970s-80s. Yet in the long-term, this
52 Darul Islam members’ saying in Jones, ‘Recycling militants’, p. 31.

53 Panji Masyarakat, ‘Impian para pendukung Kartosuwirjo’, 24 November 1997, pp. 16-8.
190
approach of the New Order created an empty space, ready to be

filled once the state and its tight-fisted control of public narratives
had been weakened.
Suharto’s attempts to invert the decades-old outright condem-
nation of the Darul Islam had not gone far enough: public dis-
course was still saturated with negative depictions of the struggle
when the relaxation of restrictions on the press, the increasing
reach of the Internet and the growing use of blogs allowed the
proliferation of alternative visions of history in the post-reformasi
era. These developments ultimately resulted in the emergence
and rapid spread of hagiographical depictions of Kartosuwiryo’s
life.
This literature ought to be seen as one aspect of a more gen-
eral process of the re-Islamization of the public sphere that has
been taking place since 1999, and is deeply embedded in the politi-
cal agendas of groups interested in a religious revival. In fact, the
authors who have been involved in rehabilitating Kartosuwiryo’s
memory are often the same actors who have been active in the
effort to implement sharia law and to resurrect visions of an Islamic
state. As the name of Kartosuwiryo has gradually disappeared from
government-sponsored materials – he is barely mentioned in Indo-
nesian text books, for example – these positive depictions of his
life and legacy have contributed to creating an aura of respect and
admiration for him, which in turn has led to the creation of a new
role model, a hero and martyr for Islam.
The first author who has looked at Kartosuwiryo from this new
perspective is Al Chaidar, a former member of the new Darul Islam
movement in Jakarta and supporter of the Islamic state project, who
graduated from Universitas Indonesia (Depok, Jakarta) in 1996
having written a thesis on the Islamic state ideology in Southeast
Asia. Al Chaidar has produced several titles on the theory of the
Islamic state and Kartosuwiryo’s experiment. Yet he has not taken
the opportunity to offer a critical assessment of Kartosuwiryo’s ide-
ology and actions, limiting his scope instead to describing events in
a supportive and apologetic tone.54
Another productive author has been Irfan Awwas, the secre-
tary of the Majelis Mujahidin Indonesia (MMI, Indonesian Coun-
54 Al Chaidar, ‘Ideologi Negara Islam di Asia Tenggara: Telaah perbandingan atas terben-
tuknya diskursus politik Islam dalam gerakan-gerakan pembentukan negara di Indonesia dan
Filipina pasca kolonialisme’ (thesis, Universitas Indonesia, Jakarta, 1996); Al Chaidar, Wacana
ideologi negara Islam (Jakarta: Darul Falah, 1998); Al Chaidar, Pemikiran politik; Al Chaidar, S.M.
Kartosoewirjo: Pemberontak atau mujahid (Jakarta: Suara Hidayatullah, 1999); Al Chaidar, Sepak
terjang K.W.9 Abu Toto menyelewengkan N.K.A.-N.I.I. pasca S.M. Kartosoewirjo, revised ed., vol. 1,
‘Serial musuh-musuh Darul Islam ‘(Jakarta: Madani Press, 2000).
191
cil of Mujahidin). He was also the editor-in-chief of Arrisalah,

until the magazine was shut down and Awwas sentenced to nine
years in prison for activities associated with the NII movement.55
Among others, Awwas has written on the figure of Kartosuwiryo
in 1999 and on the Islamic state ideology in 2007; another book,
published the following year, compares Kartosuwiryo, Daud Beu-
reueh and Kahar Mudzakkar as NII leaders.56 Many periodicals
have also engaged this newer perspective on Kartosuwiryo’s leg-
acy. One example is a magazine titled Majalla Darul Islam, edited
by Al Chaidar, which is specifically dedicated to issues related to
the establishment of an Islamic state of Indonesia and the spread
of Kartosuwiryo’s writings and ideology. Sabili, edited by Herry
Nurdi, similarly dedicates itself to spreading Kartosuwiryo’s writ-
ings and incorporates numerous contributions from both Awwas
and Chaidar.57
As is clear from the books’ titles and the authors’s back-
grounds, these publications fed into the propaganda for an
Islamic state and did not criticize any aspect of Kartosuwiryo’s
struggle. Both Chaidar and Awwas, despite holding the benefit
of privileged information and networks, failed to provide a com-
plete assessment of Kartosuwiryo’s leadership and character.
Blinded by their personal beliefs, they avoided acknowledging
the violent aspects of the Darul Islam’s operations, univocally
blaming all actions of terror on infiltrated army soldiers or com-
munist militias.
Kartosuwiryo emerges as the patron of the Islamic state, a man
who gave his life for its ideals and their realization and who fell
victim to secular forces. In representing him as such, though, Kar-
tosuwiryo’s advocates have made the same mistake as New Order
propagandists: hiding certain aspects of the story, the integrity of
the authors and the truthfulness of their accounts have been called
into question, thus alienating the sympathies of those who might
be inclined towards considering Kartosuwiryo an Islamic nation-
alist and an important figure in the independence struggle. This
55 Noorhaidi Hasan, Laskar Jihad: Islam, militancy, and the quest for identity in post-New Order
Indonesia (Ithaca: Southeast Asia Program Publications, Cornell University, 2006), pp. 18-9. I am
grateful to Martin van Bruinessen for suggesting that probably the very first attempt at ‘glorifica-
tion’ was an article in al-Ikhwan magazine later to become Arrisalah, likely written by Irfan Awwas
himself in the early 1980s.
56 Irfan Awwas, Menelusuri perjalanan jihad S.M.Kartosuwiryo: Proklamator Negara Islam Indonesia
(Yogyakarta: Wihdah Press, 1999); Irfan Awwas, Jejak jihad S.M. Kartosuwiryo. 3rd ed. (Yogyakarta:
Uswah, 2007); Irfan Awwas, Trilogi kepemimpinan Negara Islam Indonesia (Yogyakarta: Uswah,
2008).
57 Herry Nurdi, ‘S.M. Kartosoewirjo: perlawanan dari Malangabong’, Sabili 11-9 (2003).
192
vision, in fact, is now embraced by liberal secular publishers such as

Gramedia and Tempo (see below).
In the post-reformasi context, amid heavy criticism of the army
and within the framework of a surging Islamic consciousness, con-
demnatory portrayals of Kartosuwiryo have been shunned in favour
of new ones. In an effort to bring him forward as a model of Islamic
leadership in contemporary Indonesia, Islamist authors actively
adjust representations of Kartosuwiryo’s religiosity to conform with
renewed standards of orthodoxy, often denying or ignoring the mys-
ticism that had been relevant to his leadership in 1940s-50s Java.58
kartosuwiryo and contemporary visions of islamic law

in indonesia: the hukum pidana of 1949 and the mmi code
of 2005
The congress that gave birth to the MMI was opened by Irfan Awwas
under the banner of being the ‘first national congress of mujahidin’.
It was attended by some 2,000 people from different backgrounds
and organizations, all interested in calling for full implementation
of sharia law and rejecting anything that was against Islam. The lead-
ership of the movement was for several years shared between Irfan
Awwas, as chairman of the executive committee, and the senior
Hadrami cleric Abu Bakar Ba’asyir, nominated amir ul-mujahidin.
Ba’asyir, alongside Abdullah Sungkar (a key figure in the Jemaah
Islamiyah), was crucial in creating a network of like-minded activ-
ists through the establishment of the conservative pesantren al-Muk-
min in Ngruki, near Solo, in the early 1970s. However, according to
Noorhaidi Hasan, during Ba’syir’s and Sungkar’s more than twenty
years of self-imposed exile in Malaysia, it was Irfan who had ensured
the revival of the efforts to establish a caliphate and an Islamic state
by constituting once again the Negara Islam Indonesia.59
The use of NII terminology is neither generic nor casual, as
recent research has brought to light the genealogical connections
between Kartosuwiryo’s Darul Islam movement in West Java and
the Islamist groups that emerged between the 1970s and today.60
58 Awwas, for example, in reporting Kartosuwiryo’s psychological evaluation subtly censors the
sentences that suggested that Kartosuwiryo’s mysticism was an aspect of his intelligence.
59 Noorhaidi Hasan, Laskar Jihad, pp. 18-9, 47.
60 See the recent work done by the International Crisis Group in Jakarta; Martin van Bru-
inessen, ‘Genealogies of radical Islam in post-Suharto Indonesia’ (2002), Utrecht University
Website, at http://www.let.uu.nl/~Martin.vanBruinessen/personal/publications/ genealogies_
islamic_radicalism.htm; Greg Fealy’s ongoing research; and Quinton Temby’s doctoral research.
193
Based on the connections already highlighted between Kartosu-

wiryo and contemporary Islamist circles, I also advance the hypoth-
esis that the MMI’s sharia code, drafted in 2002 (and re-drafted in
2005), should be analysed in comparison with the 1948-49 NII’s
Criminal Code, the Hukum pidana.
Tim Lindsey and Jeremy Kingsley have argued that the MMI
code finds its origins ‘beyond Indonesia’s shores’, more specifi-
cally, in Malaysia, where the Islamist Parti Islam Se-Malaysia (PAS,
Pan-Malaysian Islamic Party) party ratified sharia criminal codes
in Kelantan in 1993 and in Trengganu in 2003. They further sug-
gest that Zia ul-Haqq’s legal reforms in Pakistan and Saudi Ara-
bia’s Wahhabi madhhab influenced, in more and less direct ways,
the drafting of the code.61 It is my contention, instead, that even
though it is admissible that Malaysia and Pakistan had a political
influence on the MMI, there was no need for Lindsey and King-
sley to look so far away, as a substantially similar criminal code
had been compiled by Kartosuwiryo in Java in 1949, which mostly
reflected a traditional Shafi’i interpretation of fiqh. In addition to
geographical proximity, during my research I have noticed that
the ideological connections with, and respect for, Kartosuwiryo
and the NII amongst Indonesia’s sharia-minded activists is still
strong, and his texts are widely read and circulated. According to
the introduction to the 2005 code, the MMI had set up a Komisi
Khusus (Special Commission) to produce a text that would enable
‘each Muslim to easily understand the matters of the Islamic crim-
inal code, so as to be ready to support an integral enforcement of
Syariat Islam’.62
The two formative texts of Kartosuwiryo’s NII were the Constitu-
tion and the Criminal Code. I suggest that differences in these two
documents, issued one year apart from each other, reflect a change
in political priorities, a consequence of the transformed military
context and the changing relationship between the Islamic state
and the Indonesian Republic. With the Constitution, Kartosuwiryo
gave the NII a political-administrative structure, the same goal pur-
sued by Masyumi intellectuals in the 1950s. But with the Criminal
Code, Kartosuwiryo shifted the focus away from governance and
61 T. Lindsey and J. Kingsley, ‘Talking in code: Legal Islamisation in Indonesia and the MMI
shari’a criminal code’, in Peri Bearman et al. (eds), The law applied (London: I.B.Tauris, 2008),
pp. 295-320; quote on p. 309.
62 ‘Proposal for a Criminal Code for the Republic of Indonesia adjusted to accord with the
Syari’ah of Islam’, issued by the central headquarters of the Majelis Mujahidin, Jl.Veteran no. 17,
Jogjakarta, Indonesia. I have here used the English translation of this 2002 draft, kindly pro-
vided by Jeremy Kingsley. Fauzan Al-Anshari, KUHP Syariah dan penjelasannya (Jakarta: Departe-
men Data dan Informasi MMI, 2005).
194
towards the day-to-day lives of the Islamic state’s citizens. The same
concern is at the root of the MMI’s effort to draft a criminal code
based on Islamic precepts, and the issue of the government’s struc-
ture is not touched upon.
The reasons for Kartosuwiryo’s establishment of the NII before
the achievement of a ‘perfect’ Muslim society can be found in the
peculiar political context of 1949; as noted above, the Darul Islam
originally called for a gradual transformation of West Java’s society
into an Islamic state. The doors to implementing this project had
opened with the anti-colonial struggle, only to be shut by the Dutch
invasion of West Java and the later inclusion of this region in the
Pancasila Republic. At that point, all which the Darul Islam could
concern itself with was the regulation of the daily lives of those resi-
dent in the areas it controlled.
Half a century later, with the fall of the Suharto regime and the
opening of the debate on what direction Indonesian politics should
take, the majority of Islamic groups began their campaign for a
stronger, more formal presence for religion in society, without an
open challenge to the Republican structure. With the restoration
of democratic institutions, Islam has made a comeback in parlia-
ment, and with respect to constitutional amendments, the question
of the Jakarta Charter and sharia law once again came under the
spotlight between 1999 and 2002. Interestingly, of the twenty-one
Islam-based parties allowed to compete in the general elections of
1999, only four campaigned for the transformation of the Indone-
sian Pancasila Republic into an Islamic state, but fourteen lobbied
for the inclusion of Qur’anic laws into the civil and criminal codes.
They have channelled their efforts towards drafting a criminal code
in compliance with the sharia, but not necessarily as part of a state
based on Islam.
This trend helps make clear why MMI has insisted that legis-
lation be based in the sharia, which would be considered more
acceptable and therefore potentially more influential, rather than
that the government be entirely Islamic. None of the proposed
amendments passed, and the Jakarta Charter was officially rejected
in August 2002. However, since 2000 several local regulations, or
peraturan daerah, have been passed at the provincial and district lev-
els to introduce legislation in accordance with sharia.63
63 Robin Bush, ‘Islam and constitutionalism in Indonesia’, in David Linnan (ed.), Legitimacy,
legal development and change: Law and modernization reconsidered (Surrey, UK: Ashgate, 2012);
Robin Bush, ‘Regional Sharia regulations in Indonesia: anomaly or symptom?’, in Greg Fealy
and Sally White (eds), Expressing Islam: religious life and politics in Indonesia (Singapore: Institute
of Southeast Asian Studies, 2008), pp. 174-91.
195
Thus, the MMI code fully ignores the question of the govern-
ment’s form or its ideological foundations, focusing instead on
legal regulations to be followed by ‘every citizen on the territory of
the Unitary State of the Republic of Indonesia’. This compilation
of a sharia-based criminal code was first drafted after the August
2000 foundation meeting, and later presented as the Garis-garis
besar Syariat Islam in July 2002, when parliament was yet again dis-
cussing a constitutional amendment to re-introduce the Jakarta
Charter.64
Where pre-1948 Kartosuwiryo, and Zainal Abidin Ahmad and
Isa Anshary in the 1950s, had been concerned with the structure of
a state that could harmonize Islamic principles with the needs of a
modern state, the MMI and post-Roem-van-Royen-Agreement Kar-
tosuwiryo solely focused on establishing a comprehensive Islamic
law, demanding that the Indonesian state approximate it, paying
little attention to government structure.
It is therefore because of historical circumstances that Kartosu-
wiryo turns out to be more relevant to twenty-first century reformu-
lations of Islamic polity than to his own contemporaries writing in
the ‘consolidation’ years.
Comparing the Codes: Crimes and punishments
Reflecting the classic distinction between crimes and punishments,

both the NII and MMI codes offer a presentation of qisas, diya, ta‘zir,
and hudud. It is indicative of the respective socio-political context
that the NII code focuses mostly on killings and banditism, and the
MMI’s on sexual offences.
In the NII text qisas is obligatory for the crime of killing a person
that the law does not allow to be killed, and for the wounding that
impairs reasoning capabilities (quoting Qur’an 5:45). Diya, instead,
could be requested if the heirs of the victim were to give forgive-
ness, or in case of non-impairing wounding. Ta‘zir is prescribed for
the killing of a person who it was lawful to kill, but who was killed
before the imam or his representatives had passed the sentence.
Shafi’i jurisprudence prohibited applying qisas for the killing
of a dhimmi, and such offence is punished in the NII code by light
compensation (diya mukhaffafah). Qisas, however, is also forbidden
in this code on the father of the victim, a practice that is otherwise
usually allowed by the Shafi’i and Maliki schools.65 Another discrep-
64 ‘Proposal for a Criminal Code’. Fauzan Al-Anshari, KUHP Syariah.

65 J. Schacht, Ḳiṣaṣ, EI2.
196
ancy is in the distinction applied to ‘intentional’, ‘unintentional’,

and ‘apparently intentional’ killings, as mainstream Shafi’i legal
thought does not require the intention to kill for qisas.66 Accord-
ing to the NII text ‘light compensation’ was permitted for inten-
tional killing when apologies were offered to - and accepted by - the
relatives of the victims, and the same punishment is prescribed for
unintentional killing - either 100 camels or 16,000 golden dinar.
The amputation of a single limb equalled 50 camels in compensa-
tion, two body-parts 100 camels, and a wound on the head 5 camels.
In the MMI code these internal distinctions in compensation have
disappeared, replaced instead by differentiations between compen-
sation for a male Muslim victim, a female Muslim, and a kafir: the
diya is fixed at 100 camels, 1,000 golden dinar, or 12,000 silver dir-
ham for the life of a Muslim male or the loss of two limbs, while it
is half for a Muslim woman, and the sum is further halved if the
victim is a non-Muslim (and no differentiation is made between a
dhimmi and a kafir).
Hudud offences are those crimes that break the limits (Arabic
hadd, hudud) of what God has allowed. Tradition regards these
offences as having fixed, unchangeable penalties, as these are
God’s own right. Illicit sexual intercourse (zina’), false accusation
of zina’ (qadhf), drinking alcohol, theft and robbery, and apostasy
(irtidad, murtad) are all mentioned and discussed in the two texts.
Both prescribe stoning for a married adulterer, although the NII
code also includes the possibility of heavy compensation to be
made in the case of the married adulterer, and 100 lashes (or ban-
ishment) in punishment for the unmarried one.67 The NII sanc-
tions discretional punishment for bestiality and sodomy, with the
latter reflecting the Hanafi school rather than the Shafi’i,68 whilst
the MMI assimilates sodomy to zina’ and changes the punishment
for bestiality from ta’zir in 2002 to stoning in 2005. It should not
surprise that the MMI code includes several additional articles on
unacceptable sexual practices when compared with Kartosuwiryo’s
text. The inclusion of articles on lesbianism, necrophilia, and
incest, as MMI’s efforts to pass an Islamic criminal code, cannot be
discerned from the general attempt of Islamist groups to impose
66 J. Schacht, Ḳatl, EI2.

67 ‘Proposal for a Criminal Code’, point no. 17; Fauzan Al-Anshari, KUHP syariah, point
no. 16; Qanun asasy Negara Islam Indonesia, AABRI DI no. 9, point no. 12.1.
Another discrepancy between Pinardi’s copy and AABRI DI no. 9 regards the crime of zina’.
Unless it was a typo, in Pinardi (who, in my opinion, uses a later text) the code appears to deal
with the crime of adultery in a more progressive way, as article 18 does not suggest stoning,
banishment, or imprisonment as forms of punishments.
68 R. Peters, Zina, EI2.
197
Muslim standards of moral conduct, as also evidenced by the anti-

pornography bill that was passed in 2009. For zina’ accusations, the
Hukum pidana required four male witnesses who had witnessed the
sexual act (kelihatan masuk dan keluarnya) for the specific intention
of testifying in court. The MMI code, on the other hand, requires
no such burden of proof; in both codes he who accuses without
satisfying the requirements is to be punished with 80 lashes.
The NII code punishes the drinking of alcohol with 40 lashes
according to Shafi’i tradition, but the MMI incorporates Caliph
Umar Ibn al-Khattab’s decree that the lashes number up to 80, thus
stipulating a punishment between 40 and 80 lashes; plus, in 2005,
the addition of death penalty for he who is convicted for a fourth
time.69 An interesting deviation from traditionally accepted juris-
prudence, and an indication that this NII code was adapted to local
understandings, is an article specifying that he who drank arak or
other kinds of alcohol as a medical treatment and under the sug-
gestion of a doctor should be exempted from the punishment. It
should also be noted that neither the NII nor the MMI codes pro-
hibit gambling.
The MMI code bears witness to the deep transformations in
Islamic practice since the religious revival of the 1980s, as the
evidence of cultural adaptation present in Kartosuwiryo’s code,
including the categorization of wandu and the permission to drink
alcohol whenever prescribed by a doctor, have disappeared.
In the NII code, the article on robbery and theft (here described
as baigal dan pencurian) prescribed execution by crucifixion for he
who accidentally kills during a robbery, simple death for he who
kills without seizing the goods, amputation of the right hand and
left foot for he who robs without shedding blood, and ta‘zir for he
who scares travellers without causing any damage. Amputation was
also the punishment for a person who stole up to ¼ of a dinar, a pre-
scription that reflects Shafi’i tradition. Finally, he who killed while
defending himself (daf’ul-sial), his belongings, or his wife’s honour
was exempted from punishment. In the NII code, as well as in the
MMI ones, apostasy is treated in full accordance with, and acknowl-
edgement of, books of fiqh (sebagaimana jang termaktub dalam kitab2
Fiqih): in the event that the order to repent went unheard, the apos-
tate was to be punished with death.70
Comparing the treatment of hudud crimes and punishments it
is evident that between 2002 and 2005 the MMI had further radi-
calized its position: the act of theft (sariqah) is punished in 2002
69 ‘Proposal for a Criminal Code’, point no. 27; Fauzan Al-Anshari, KUHP syariah, point no. 13.
70 ‘Proposal for a Criminal Code’, point no. 28; Fauzan Al-Anshari, KUHP syariah, point no. 10.
198
with the amputation of the right hand and left foot for the first
and second offences respectively, and with ‘beating with a piece of
wood or imprisonment for a term determined by the judge to give
the convicted the opportunity to repent to God’ for the third and
subsequent ones. In 2005, however, the last clause is replaced with
three more, specifying the amputation of left hand and right foot
for the third and fourth offences, and eventually death for the fifth-
time offender. In Kartosuwiryo’s code this latter clause prescribes
banishment, and the offence itself is referred to as pencurian.71 The
second hudud crime taken into consideration by the MMI is hirabah,
which is explained as civil disturbance and seems to correspond
with the NII’s baigal in its description of both offence and punish-
ment.72
Although scattered throughout the text, the NII code offers
detailed regulations to meet most needs of society, focussing on
those particularly relevant for a society in a state of war. Muslim
fighters were allowed to withdraw when outnumbered, as prevent-
ing damage should take precedence over the acquisition of ben-
efits (quoting Q 8:1, 15). When fighting the infidels, Muslims could
retreat if outnumbered 10 to 1 or 2 to 1 by the enemy (quoting Q
8:65-66). Those who withdrew from the battlefield under any other
circumstance were to be banished (quoting Q 8:16). The last article
prescribed that the corpses of infidel enemies (as well as apostates)
were to be buried for hygienic reasons; those executed whilst pro-
nouncing the shahada were to be considered Muslims, and thus
attended to as prescribed. Finally, Muslims who had died in battle
or within 24 hours of being wounded were to be considered shahid
dunia akhirat, or martyrs.
beyond condemnation and glorification
In addition to the views of Kartosuwiryo expressed in the sections

above, in recent years efforts have been made to bring the com-
plexities of Kartosuwiryo’s career back under the spotlight. A first
attempt to achieve balance can be seen in a 2006 publication titled
Kearifan guru bangsa: Pilar kemerdekaan (‘The fathers of the nation:
Pillars of independence’). In this illustrated volume, Kartosuwiryo
71 ‘Proposal for a Criminal Code’, point nos.10-11; Fauzan Al-Anshari, KUHP syariah, point
no. 27; Qanun asasy Negara Islam Indonesia, AABRI DI no. 9, point no. 21.
72 ‘Proposal for a Criminal Code’, point no. 14; Fauzan Al-Anshari, KUHP syariah, point
no. 12; Qanun asasy Negara Islam Indonesia, AABRI DI no. 9, point no. 21.
199
is represented alongside Amir Sjarifudin, Muhammad Husni Tham-

rin, Hadji Misbach, Mohammad Hatta, Soekarno, Tan Malaka and
other leading representatives of the revolution, for the first time
placing him in a wider hall of fame.
Kartosuwiryo is the subject of two chapters, titled ‘Before the
Darul Islam’ and, ‘A sad sequence’, which point to the evolution
of his approach to politics. The author singles out the pivotal shifts
in Kartosuwiryo’s career, from being Tjokroaminoto’s disciple, to
his move to West Java and his rising concerns for peasants’ griev-
ances and anti-colonial feelings which were channelled in the
Darul Islam, to his eventual establishment of the Soeffah. Kartosu-
wiryo’s understanding of Islam is represented as Arab-inspired, and
the Soeffah as a work-camp whose strict regime caused his politi-
cal failure, imprisonment and, eventually, cost him his life. The
importance of this work lies in the fact that Kartosuwiryo is placed
amongst officially recognized nationalist leaders, yet the simplifica-
tion of his character has omitted his mysticism, in favour of high-
lighting an ‘Arab orthodoxy’. 73
A reflection is necessary on the most recent engagement of a
‘mainstream’ publication with Kartosuwiryo and the Darul Islam’s
history and legacy. In 2010 the special ‘Independence Day’ issue
of Tempo was fully dedicated to Kartosuwiryo, covering everything
from his political career to his contemporary following. These arti-
cles were reprinted in 2011 as a booklet that was part of a Grame-
dia book series ‘Islamic leaders of the early independence period’
(Tokoh Islam di awal kemerdekaan), which also included volumes on
Daud Beureueh, Muhammad Natsir and Wahid Hasjim.74
What is noteworthy here is the editors’ choice of two different
covers for the Indonesian and English editions of the Tempo issue,
which points to the difficulty that a renowned liberal magazine
faces in attempting to ensure compliance with local and interna-
tional understandings of political Islam in the twenty-first century.
While the Indonesian cover has Kartosuwiryo looking assertive,
with the title ‘Kartosuwiryo: Dreaming the Islamic state’, the Eng-
lish edition features a pensive and troubled-looking Kartosuwiryo
with the title, ‘Kartosuwiryo: An impossible dream’.75 This diver-
gence shows not too subtly how the magazine intended to offer
what the readership expected: for the Indonesian audience, the
editors neither condemned nor glorified the struggle for political
73 Suryana Sudrajat, Kearifan guru bangsa: Pilar kemerdekaan, (Jakarta: Erlangga, 2006).
74 Tempo, Kartosoewirjo, mimpi negara Islam. Seri buku Tempo: Tokoh Islam di awal
kemerdekaan (Jakarta: Gramedia, 2011).
75 Majalah Tempo, August 18-24, 2010; English and Indonesian editions.
200
Islam, while for the Western audience they made a strong state-
ment about the infeasibility of achieving an Islamic state in the past
as well as today.
concluding remarks
Kartosuwiryo’s memory – and its management – are emblematic

of Indonesia’s Islamic identity. Whether we look at family connec-
tions, territorial expansion or historical and ideological references,
Kartosuwiryo and the Darul Islam are constant elements in the
Islamist as much as the secular discourse. Yet the dominant image
of Kartosuwiryo and the Darul Islam is a magnified one, of Kar-
tosuwiryo as imam of the Negara Islam Indonesia, commander of
the Tentara Islam Indonesia and crafter of an anti-Pancasila unitary
Republic movement. But this is a picture only representative of a
part of his political life. Those who hail him as a martyr and a hero
differ from those who call him an enemy of the state or a terrorist
only in perspective; both sides see Kartosuwiryo through their own
self-interested filters. But Kartosuwiryo’s historical relevance lies in
his advocacy of non-cooperation with the Dutch, his dedication to
an unshakably nationalist movement committed to absolute and
uncompromising freedom from colonization and his framing the
struggle for independence in Islamic terms. His legacy, however, is
inextricably linked with the violent turn of his movement, because
of which Islam lost its chance to become a prominent factor in
national politics.
The violent evolution of the Darul Islam tainted the image of
Islam as a political ideology, further pushing away the chance to
realize an Islamic state. The portrayals of Kartosuwiryo and his
movement need to be analysed amidst the changing context of
Indonesian politics, from the revolution and Soekarno’s subse-
quent consolidation of the Pancasila state, through the army’s ris-
ing power and co-optation policies and Suharto’s rapprochement
with Islam and eventual fall, to the emergence of a new wave of
Islamization of Indonesia’s society.
The political development of Indonesia as an autocratic,
non-confessional state, in which the army held control over the
government and society for most of its existence, led to such a crys-
tallization of understandings of Kartosuwiryo’s actions and goals
that his complexities were eventually reduced to an over-simplified
dichotomy that could only be challenged after the passing of sev-
eral decades and dramatic political transformations.
201
Conclusion
The development of political Islam
and the making of the Indonesian state
This book has explored the development of political Islam in twen-

tieth-century Indonesia by following the life, career and legacy of
Sekarmaji Marjan Kartosuwiryo. My goal has been twofold: on one
hand I have attempted to reassert the religious motivations behind
the Darul Islam movement and to explore Kartosuwiryo’s legacy
for contemporary Islamists. On the other hand, this reassertion of
Islam as the main stimulus for what became a rebellious movement
has formed the core of my explanation for the failure of political
Islam in the 1950s. The contested identities of both the Darul Islam
and Kartosuwiryo himself shaped Indonesian Muslims’ political
attitudes throughout the twentieth century and beyond.
Born into a traditional Javanese family, to a father employed
in the colonial administration, Kartosuwiryo failed as a student in
medical school. However, he soon grew to become an important
figure in the anti-colonial movement in the 1930s. It is unclear why
he first joined the religious Sarekat Islam in 1927; he may have
been attracted by Tjokroaminoto’s charismatic leadership and his
Islamo-communist conviction, or perhaps by Agoes Salim’s commit-
ment to the Islamic ideal. Regardless, Kartosuwiryo developed a
strong sense of socio-economic justice, which he would soon frame
in religious terms and translate politically into his efforts towards
the establishment of an independent Islamic state. His relationship
to the pan-Islamic project oscillated between post-Ottoman Caliph-
ate transnational aspirations and more pressing anti-colonial goals,
as nationalism became increasingly paramount. Alongside his con-
viction that only Islam could be ‘the’ solution were his distrust of
cooperation, secularism and overall ‘neutrality’ – all key elements,
incidentally, of Soekarno’s platform since the late 1920s.
The Japanese invasion is an unquestionable landmark in
Indonesia’s modern history; in addition to the economic disaster
brought on by the war effort, Japan empowered the masses with
a national consciousness, which lay the foundations for the 1945-
1949 revolution. And the impact of Japan’s initial predilection for
| Conclusion
the Islamic movement, which had been mostly due to its grass-roots
networks, could not be undone when Japan entrusted the prepara-
tions for independence to Soekarno’s faction. Masyumi was strong,
grounded and ready to fight. The Hizboellah and Sabilillah troops
were better trained and more motivated than the Republican sol-
diers, believing that they were striving on the path of God, and
Masyumi’s organization and its platform for an Islamic state formed
the backbone of anti-Dutch resistance in West Java.
Kartosuwiryo had affirmed his willingness to collaborate with
the Japanese, and even after the Dutch had returned, he partici-
pated in formal politics, supporting Masyumi’s commitment to
creating an Islamic state via parliamentary consultation. But the
July 1947 invasion could not be ignored. Similarly, the forcible
inclusion of West Java into the unitary Republic in August 1950
demanded a reaction.
In 1948 Kartosuwiryo led the restructuring of the West Java
regional branch of Masyumi at a time when there was no central
branch with which to coordinate activities. But in the following
years the struggle for the survival of the Negara Islam Indonesia
became identified with the ‘external’ regions’ dissatisfaction with
Soekarno’s centralized control.
The 1949 proclamation of the NII state and its ensuing struggle
for self-preservation and expansion should be seen as an attempt
to bring Indonesia – or, at least, parts of it – under the control of an
independent Islamic nation-state. The alternative, as Kartosuwiryo
argued, would be a Dutch-supported puppet state, which could too
easily fall prey to communist forces.
In the 1950s Masyumi and PNI had divergent political orien-
tations, parliamentary discussions were in constant stalemate, the
government seemed incapable of progress on any front and the
Communist Party was on the rise as a result of Soekarno’s support.
Cabinet members continuously bickered, and military officers were
frustrated at their reduced powers, as Indonesia began attempting
to establish itself as a constitutional democracy after the war. Elec-
tions were slow to come and ministerial cabinets fast to fall. And all
the while, Soekarno held tight to his presidential role.
The temporary character of the Pancasila constitution began
to vanish in the face of ongoing political and military instability,
frustrating the hopes of those who wished for Islam to be officially
recognized as the founding principle of the nation, and exacerbat-
ing the position of the Darul Islam. During the revolution relations
between the Republic and the Islamic state had oscillated between
explicit cooperation, recognition of a common goal and clashes
on the battlefield; in the 1950s Masyumi and, crucially, Muham-
204
Conclusion |
mad Natsir, promoted a diplomatic solution to ‘the Darul Islam

problem’ and the regional rebellions. But the Islamic party had
already been weakened by the Nahdatul Ulama’s secession in 1952
and its poor electoral performance in 1955; its siding with the revo-
lutionary governments of Sulawesi and Sumatra paved the way for
Masyumi’s final disbandment in 1960.
Soekarno quickly tired of the constitutional assembly and the
debate on Islam, Pancasila and Social Economy. Emboldened by
the communists’ support, his renewed co-optation of the military
and the decline of Masyumi, in 1957 he disbanded the assembly,
restored the 1945 Constitution, and implemented his konsepsi for
a ‘Guided Democracy’. Meanwhile, in 1959, the cabinet officially
abandoned the ‘political solution’ to the Darul Islam problem, and
the army began to elaborate a military strategy to end what was now
defined a ‘rebellion’.
In the early 1960s political Islam seemed to have no future in
Indonesia, the Darul Islam was quashed and the most prominent
leaders of Masyumi were arrested. These developments eventually
facilitated the creation of an overall perception of political Islam as
a danger to the Republic, an idea that had been advanced by Soek-
arno as early as 1953 in Amuntai.
In the years preceding Soekarno’s Guided Democracy, Islamic
intellectuals had dedicated considerable effort to drafting alter-
native solutions to the Pancasila state, hopeful that Islam could
become the foundation of an independent democratic Indonesia.
Yet they never acknowledged Kartosuwiryo’s experiment, the NII
had no influence on their work and the impact of the Darul Islam
was now found in the public’s suspicion of, and negative attitudes
towards, political Islam. Since the 1960s Kartosuwiryo and the Darul
Islam had been portrayed as enemies of the Republic – terrorists
who were only interested in destabilizing the country and its gov-
ernment, who were led by disenchanted politicians and guerrilla
commanders who wanted more power and cared little about Islam.
Ignored, misread as communist, and eventually labelled as sepa-
ratist and anti-Republican, the Darul Islam movement and its lead-
ership were condemned to oblivion, allowing for the consolidation
of a non-Islamic, broadly non-confessional, state. It was only in the
aftermath of Suharto’s fall that Islamists’ revisionist efforts ‘res-
cued’ the memory of Kartosuwiryo’s religious and political goals
from Soekarno’s and Suharto’s propagandist agendas, even if only
to coat his endeavours with apologetic awe and respect, thus giving
new life to the forefather of Indonesia’s Islamism.
205
Appendix
Articles and pamphlets authored
by S.M. Kartosuwiryo
Articles (in alphabetical order)

‘Aniajaan dan siksaan’, Fadjar Asia, 26 September 1928
‘Anti-nationaal dan anti-persatoean’, Fadjar Asia, 19 November
1928
‘Bahaja jang mengantjam roeh dan djiwa ra’iat djadjahan’, Fadjar
Asia, 14 February 1929
‘Baitoel-mal pada zaman pantjaroba dan tarich bait-al-mal zaman
Rasoeloellah clm dan choelafa-oer-rasidin r.a.a.’, SMIAI, 28 June
1943
‘Bangsa dan bahasa’, Fadjar Asia, 8 May 1928
‘Bank Nasional’, Fadjar Asia, 27 August 1928
‘Barisan moeda’, Fadjar Asia, 6 February 1929
‘Bekal bathin dalam perdjoeangan’, SMIAI, 1 March 1943
‘Belanda keboen jang soeka mempermainkan anak isteri orang’,
Fadjar Asia, 6 June 1929
‘Beloem djoega mengerti!!’, Fadjar Asia, 16 July 1929
‘Benteng Islam’, SMIAI, 1 September 1943
‘Berbagai-bagai penangkapan’, Fadjar Asia, 30 July 1929
‘Berekor pandjang (pers dan politiek)’, Fadjar Asia, 2 July 1929
‘Bertoekar fikiran: Agama dan politiek’, Fadjar Asia, 3 April 1928
‘Bertoekar fikiran: Agama dan politiek II’, Fadjar Asia, 4 April 1928
‘Boekan memboeta toeli, malahan membabi boeta’, Fadjar Asia,
1 March 1929
‘Boekan merintangi, melainkan tidak toeroet’, Fadjar Asia, 4 Sep-
tember 1929
‘Boekan oekoeran kita’, Fadjar Asia, 24 June 1929
‘Boekan sifat lelaki’, Fadjar Asia, 15 July 1929
‘Boepati dan agama Islam’, Fadjar Asia, 21 April 1930
‘Congres PCI jang pertama I’, Fadjar Asia, 3 August 1929
‘Congres PCI jang pertama II’, Fadjar Asia, 5 August 1929
‘Damai doenia’, Fadjar Asia, 23 July 1928
‘Ditjari-tjari dan direka-reka’, Fadjar Asia, 17 November 1928
| Appendix
‘Djawaban kepada Fadjar Asia’, Fadjar Asia, 13 May 1929

‘Doenia dan acherat, Soeara PSII, November 1937
‘Faham koeno dan faham moeda’, Fadjar Asia, 12 September 1928
‘Fardl-oel-‘ain dan fardl-oel-kifajah dalam Islam’, SMIAI, 1 May
1943
‘Gara-gara hari lebaran’, Fadjar Asia, 3 April 1928
‘Hadji Agoes Salim ke Geneve’, Fadjar Asia, 30 April 1929
‘Halangan PMI Solo’, Fadjar Asia, 28 June 1929
‘Hendak damai ataoekah mengganggoe?’, Fadjar Asia, 30 April
1930
‘I’tibar madjazy dan ma’any’, SMIAI, 15 July 1943
‘Indonesia Raja dan… kerbaoe’, Fadjar Asia, 6 August 1929
‘Irrigatie meroesak pertanian?’, Fadjar Asia, 9 October 1928
‘Islam dan kemerdekaan’, Fadjar Asia, 23 July 1929
‘Islam dan nasionalisme’, Fadjar Asia, 24 May 1929
‘Islam terantjam bahaja’, Fadjar Asia, 9 February 1929
‘Islamisme, nasionalisme dan internasionalisme I’, Fadjar Asia,
3 November 1928
‘Islamisme, nasionalisme dan internasionalisme II’, Fadjar Asia,
7 November 1928
‘Keamanan dan ke’adilan’, Fadjar Asia, 15 September, 1928
‘Keber’atan ra’iat’, Fadjar Asia, 27 April 1929
‘Keliroe sedikit’, Fadjar Asia, 7 November 1928
‘Kemadjoean Islam’, Fadjar Asia, 3 April 1928
‘Kepentingan ekonomi di dalam perdjoeangan kita’, Fadjar Asia,
3 September 1928
‘Kewadjiban oemmat Islam menghadapi “doenia baroe”’, SMIAI,
15 May 1943
‘Koerban poenale sanctie’, Fadjar Asia, 27 July 1929
‘Kongres Liga’, Fadjar Asia, 25 April 1929
‘Kongres P3KI kedoea’, Fadjar Asia, 10 August 1929
‘Lagi ditembak mati’, Fadjar Asia, 31 July 1928
‘Lagi tentang oelil amri’, Fadjar Asia, 24 May 1930
‘Lahir dan bathin’, Fadjar Asia, 29 October 1928
‘Lain doeloe, lain sekarang!’, Fadjar Asia, 11 September 1929
‘Lain pemandangan tentang tooneelstuk Troenodjojo’, Fadjar Asia,
7 December 1928
‘Liga melawan imperialisme dan PSI-Hindia Timoer’, Fadjar Asia,
12 November 1928
‘Liga, Perhimpoenan Indonesia dan kita’, Fadjar Asia, 31 August
1929
‘Main-kokolijo’, Fadjar Asia, 18 May 1929
‘Ma’loemat’, Fadjar Asia, 11 September 1929
‘Ma’loemat’, Fadjar Asia, 14 November 1929
208
Appendix |
‘Ma’loemat LT-PSI Indonesia’, Fadjar Asia, 20 April 1929

‘Mana hak ra’iat?’, Fadjar Asia, 8 June 1929
‘Matjam2 rintangan, Fadjar Asia, 30 April 1929
‘Memang koerang adjar!’, Fadjar Asia, 25 June 1929
‘Memboeta toeli’, Fadjar Asia, 29 January 1929
‘Menoedjoe ke arah dar-oel-Islam dan dar-oes-salam’, SMIAI,
15 March 1943
‘Moelai sadar akan hak2nja’, Fadjar Asia, 16 February 1929
‘Moenafeqah?’, Fadjar Asia, 4 April 1928
‘Naik tiang pengantungan’, Fadjar Asia, 25 July 1929
‘Nasib ra’iat Tjitjoeroek’, Fadjar Asia, 11 May 1929
‘Neutral, onpartijdig dan kemoenafikan’, Fadjar Asia, 14 June 1929
‘Obat pemboengkam moeloet’, Fadjar Asia, 17 July 1929
‘Orang Lampoeng boekan monjet, tetapi jalah manoesia belaka!’,
Fadjar Asia, 10 June 1929
‘Pandai tapi koerang ‘akal’, Fadjar Asia, 3 April 1928
‘Partij Allah pasti menang’, Soeara PSII, November 1937
‘Pengharapan jang choesjoeq’, Fadjar Asia, 3 October 1928
‘Pendjiar perchabaran palsoe’, Fadjar Asia, 22 June 1929
‘Perajaan 1 Mei’, Fadjar Asia, 6 May 1929
‘Perajaan 1 Mei, semboengan Fadjar Asia kemarin’, Fadjar Asia,
7 May 1929
‘Perajaan Maulud Nabi Mohammad saw diboeat sebagai perkakas
mendjilat’, Fadjar Asia, 7 September 1928
‘Perbandingan’, Fadjar Asia, 7 July 1929
‘Perbedaan’, Fadjar Asia, 30 June 1928
‘Perbedaan dan perselisihan’, Fadjar Asia, 11 August 1928
‘Perdjalanan ketanah soetji’, Fadjar Asia, 20 July 1928
‘Pergerakan dan korban’, Fadjar Asia, 18 September 1928
‘Pergerakan pemoeda dan politiek’, Fadjar Asia, 19 April 1929
‘Perkara jang benar susah pakainya’, Fadjar Asia, 17 August 1928
‘Perkara tanah: Bangsa mendjadi oekoeran hak’, Fadjar Asia,
16 August 1929
‘Permoeliaan manoesia’, Fadjar Asia, 31 August 1928
‘Peroebahan zaman’, Fadjar Asia, 24 September 1928
‘Pertjaja kepada diri sendiri dan …’, Fadjar Asia, 31 October 1928
‘Pertjakapan di dalam kereta api’, Fadjar Asia, 15 May 1928
‘Poetoesan dan keterangan’, Fadjar Asia, 2 February 1929
‘Polisi dan ra’iat’, Fadjar Asia, 3 October 1928
‘Politie yang ganas’, Fadjar Asia, 26 April 1929
‘Politiek djadjahan dan igama’, Fadjar Asia, 2 June 1928
‘Politiek djadjahan dan igama II’, Fadjar Asia, 4 June 1928
‘Politiek djadjahan dan igama III’, Fadjar Asia, 13 June 1928
‘Politiek djadjahan dan igama IV’, Fadjar Asia, 14 June 1928
209
| Appendix
‘Politiek djadjahan dan igama V’, Fadjar Asia, 16 June 1928

‘Ra’iat dan nasibnja’, Fadjar Asia, 12 February 1929
‘Randjau pergerakan’, Fadjar Asia, 13 August 1929
‘Ratap tangis dan keloeh kesah si “Lemah”’, Fadjar Asia, 13 October
1928
‘Rintangan dan larangan’, Fadjar Asia, 14 May 1929
‘Rintangan di Soengai-Batang (Menindjau)’, Fadjar Asia, 1 August
1929
‘Riwajat AlMahroem Raden Adjeng Kartini’, Fadjar Asia, 23 April
1929
‘Roedjak Sentoel’, Fadjar Asia, 17 July 1929
‘Roesland dan Tiongkok’, Fadjar Asia, 12 September 1929
‘Sambil laloe: Lagi tentang persatoean’, Fadjar Asia, 12 March 1929
‘Sambil laloe: Lagi tentang persatoean II’, Fadjar Asia, 15 March 1929
‘Sambil laloe: Pikiran sehat’, Fadjar Asia, 7 September 1929
‘Sambil laloe: Soeara baroe! Model lama’, Fadjar Asia, 4 May 1929
‘Samboetan’, Fadjar Asia, 14 November 1929
‘Satoe boekti gampangnja hak ra’iat djadjahan dilanggar ataoe ter-
langgar’, Fadjar Asia, 23 February 1929
‘Sedikit tentang oeloel amri’, Fadjar Asia, 23 May 1930
‘Selamat djalan’, Fadjar Asia, 2 May 1929
‘Serangan dan balasan’, Fadjar Asia, 20 July 1929
‘Seroean oemoem komite zakat fitrah’, Fadjar Asia, 1 March 1929
‘Siapa jang tidak setoedjoe dengan kita, ialah moesoeh kita’, Fadjar
Asia, 9 July 1929
‘Sifat binatang’, Fadjar Asia, 10 July 1929
‘Sikap jang berbahaja neutraal’, Fadjar Asia, 17 October 1929
‘Soe’al kaoem boeroeh dan madjikan’, Fadjar Asia, 3 June 1929
‘Soe’al persatoean’, Fadjar Asia, 10 September 1929
‘Soeap!’, Fadjar Asia, 22 September 1928
‘Soenan dan kebangsaan’, Fadjar Asia, 16 January 1929
‘Tentang sembahjang djoem’ah dan pendirian masdjid’, Fadjar
Asia, 11 April 1930
‘Tetap dalam pendirian kita’, Fadjar Asia, 24 July 1929
‘Troenodjojo’, Fadjar Asia, 12 November 1928
‘Vergadering ISDP’, Fadjar Asia, 2 April 1928
‘Warta bagi pers’, Fadjar Asia, 13 September 1929
‘Zaman terbalik’, Fadjar Asia, 25 April 1929
Pamphlets (in chronological order)

Sikap hidjrah PSII, 10 September 1936
Daftar oesaha hidjrah PSII, March 1940
210
Appendix |
Haloean politik Islam, 16 August 1946

Perang sabil, 27 Ramadhan 1366/15 August 1947
ad-Daulatul Islamiyah, March 1949
NII documents (in chronological order)

Qanun asasy Negara Islam Indonesia, 22 Syawal 1367/27 August 1948
Proklamasi Negara Islam Indonesia, 12 Syawal 1368/18 August 1949
Manifesto politik 1/7, 1 Dzulqa’idah 1368/26 August 1949
Hukum pidana, 1949
211
Glossary
adat custom’ary law or traditions

amir leader, commander
amir ul-mu’minin commander of the faithful
bait al-mal Islamic communal treasury
bughat rebel
bupati regent
dar al-Islam or dar-ul-Islam house of Islam, Islamic territory
ad-daulatul Islamiyah Islamic state
desa village
dewan fatwa advisory council
dewan imamah Ministerial Cabinet
dewan partij Party’s Central Board
fard al-‘ayn individual duty
fard al-kifaya collective duty
fatwa legal opinion
fiqh jurisprudence
haram forbidden
hijrah migration; in politics: non-cooperation
hukum law
hukum pidana criminal code
‘ibada worship
imam leader
iman faith
Jawi Southeast Asians
jihad struggle
jihad al-akbar greater struggle
jihad al-asghar lesser struggle
kafir infidel
kaum group, people
keris a dagger with an undulate blade, deemed
to possess spiritual essence
ketuhanan belief in God
| Glossary
kiyai Islamic scholar

konsepsi vision
laskar militia
majelis syuro consultative assembly, parliament
majelis Islam Islamic council
menak Sundanese aristocracy
negara state
perang sabil or suci holy war
pergerakan, gerakan movement
pesantren traditional Islamic (boarding) school
priyayi Javanese courtly elite, transformed into
bureaucratic elite by the colonial admin-
istration
sikap policy, effort
Soeffah educational institution in Medina at
the time of the Prophet; Kartosuwiryo’s
pesantren
tauhid monotheism, unity of God
ulama religious scholar
ummah, ummat community
wahyu (Ar.) – pulung (Jv.) divine revelation
wajib obligatory
214
Bibliography
Archives
Arsip Angkatan Bersenjata Republik Indonesia, Jakarta

–– D.I.-T.I.I. Ja.Bar.
Arsip Nasional Republik Indonesia, Jakarta
–– Kabinet Perdana Menteri Republik Indonesia, Yogyakarta.
1949-1950
–– Jogjakarta Documenten, 1945-1949
–– Kementrian Pertahanan Republik Indonesia
–– Kepolisian Negara Republik Indonesia, 1947-1949
–– Pemerintah Darurat RI, 1948-1949
–– Kabinet Presiden, 1950-1959
–– Kabinet Presiden Republik Indonesia Serikat, 1949-1950
Nationaal Archief, The Hague
–– Archief van de Procureur-Generaal
–– Archief van het Ministerie van Koloniën, 1900-1963
–– Archief van de Algemene Secretarie, 1944-1950
–– Archief van het Ministerie van Koloniën, Rapportage
Indonesië, 1945-1950
–– Archief van het Ministerie van Koloniën, Supplement (1664),
1826-1952
–– Archief van de Marine en Leger Inlichtingendienst,
Netherlands Forces Intelligence Service en Centrale Militaire
Inlichtingendienst in Nederlands-Indië
National Archives of the United Kingdom, Kew
–– Foreign Office Archives
–– War Office Archives
Periodicals and newspapers

A.P.B.
al-Djihad
| Bibliography
Algemeen overzicht van de Inlandsche (Maleisisch-Chineesche en Arabische)

Pers
Antara News
Asia Raya
Berita
Berita Indonesia
Berita Masjumi
Berita Priangan
Darmokondo
Fadjar Asia
Harian Berita
Harian Ra’jat
Indonesia Merdeka
Indonesisch pers en radio overzicht, Java
Java Post
Keng Po
Kedaulatan Rakyat
Logbericht
Majalah Tempo
Merdeka
Nieuwe Courant
Overzicht van der Inlandsche en Maleisisch-Chineesche Pers
Pandji Islam
Pandji Poestaka
Panji Masyarakat
Pewarta Surabaja
Politiek-politioneele overzichten van Nederlandsch-Indië
Sabili
Sin Po
Soeara MIAI
Soeara PSII
TIME Magazine
Trompet Masjarakat
Vrjie Pers
Warta Indonesia
Publications
35 Tahun Siliwangi
1981 35 tahun Siliwangi, 20 Mei 1946-20 Mei 1981. Bandung: Dinas
Penerangan dan Hubungan Masyarakat Kodam 6/Siliwangi.
216
Bibliography |
Abdurrahman
1999 ‘Jong Islamieten Bond, 1925-1942 (sejarah, pemikiran, dan
gerakan)’. Thesis, IAIN Sunan Kalijaga, Yogyakarta.
Abeyasekere, Susan
1976 One hand clapping: Indonesian nationalists and the Dutch,
1939-1942. Clayton: Centre of Southeast Asian Studies,
Monash University. [Monash Papers on Southeast Asia 5.]
1973 ‘The Soetardjo petition’, Indonesia 15:80-108.
1972 ‘Partai Indonesia Raja, 1936-42: A study in cooperative
nationalism’, Journal of Southeast Asian Studies 3-2:262-76.
Abuza, Zachary
2003 Militant Islam in Southeast Asia: Crucible of terror. Boulder:
Lynne Rienner.
Adams, Cindy
1965 Soekarno: An autobiography. Indianapolis: Bobbs-Merrill.
Ahmad, Zainal Abidin
1964 Negara utama (madinatuʼl fadilah). Jakarta: Djambatan.
1956 Membentuk negara Islam. Jakarta: Widjaya.
1952 Dasar-dasar ekonomi Islam. Jakarta: Pustaka Antara/Aida.
[First edition Jakarta: Sinar Ilmu, 1950.]
1952 Konsepsi negara Islam. Bandung: Al Ma’arif.
1949 Konsepsi tata negara Islam. Jakarta: Sinar Ilmu.
1946 Konstitoesi negara, pendjelasan landjoet tentang oendang-oendang
dasar negara Republik Indonesia. Bukit Tinggi: Poestaka Islam.
Aiko, Kurasawa
1986 ‘Japanese occupation and leadership changes in Javanese
villages’, in: Jurrien van Goor (ed.), The Indonesian Revolu-
tion: Papers of the conference held in Utrecht, 17-20 June 1986,
pp. 57-78. Utrecht: Instituut voor Geschiedenis. [Utrechtse
Historische Cahiers, jaargang 7, 2/3.]
Amelz
1952 H.O.S. Tjokroaminoto: Hidup dan perdjuangannja. Jakarta:
Bulan Bintang. Two vols.
Amiq
1998 ‘Two fatwas on jihad against the Dutch colonisation in
Indonesia: A prosopographical approach to the study of
fatwa’, Studia Islamika 5-3:81-124.
Anderson, Benedict R.O’G.
1972 Java in a time of revolution: Occupation and resistance, 1944-
1946. Ithaca, NY/London: Cornell University Press.
217
| Bibliography
Anshari, Endang Saifuddin

1997 Piagam Jakarta 22 Juni 1945: Sebuah konsensus nasional ten-
tang dasar negara Republik Indonesia, 1945-1959. Edisi 3.
Jakarta: Gema Insani Press. [First edition 1981.]
Anshari, Fauzan al-
2005 KUHP Syariah dan penjelasannya. Jakarta: Departemen Data
dan Informasi MMI. ‘Proposal for a Criminal Code for the
Republic of Indonesia adjusted to accord with the syari’ah
of Islam’, issued by Central Headquarters of the Majelis
Mujahidin Jl.Veteran no. 17, Jogjakarta, Indonesia.
Anshary, Isa
1951 Falsafah perdjuangan Islam. Medan: Saiful. [First edition
1949.]
Ansyori, Muhammad Isa
2007 ‘Respons Masyumi terhadap gerakan Darul Islam di Jawa
Barat (1949-1960)’. Thesis, Universitas Pajadjaran, Jatinan-
gor.
Aspinall, Edward
2009 Islam and nation: Separatist rebellion in Aceh, Indonesia. Singa-
pore: NUS Press.
Awwas, Irfan
2008 Trilogi kepemimpinan Negara Islam Indonesia. Yogyakarta:
Uswah.
2007 Jejak jihad S.M. Kartosuwiryo. Cetakan ke-3. Yogyakarta:
Uswah. [First edition 1999.]
1999 Menelusuri perjalanan jihad S.M. Kartosuwiryo: Proklamator
Negara Islam Indonesia. Yogyakarta: Wihdah Press.
Aziz, M.A.
1955 Japan’s colonialism and Indonesia. The Hague: Nijhoff.
Azra, Azyumardi
2004 The origins of Islamic reformism in Southeast Asia: Networks of
Malay-Indonesian and Middle Eastern ʿulamā ʾ in the seventeenth
and eighteenth century. Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press.
Balfas, M.
1952 Dr Tjipto Mangoekoesoemo, demokrat sedjati. Jakarta: Penerbit
Djambatan. [Seri Tjermin Kehidupan.]
Barton, Greg and Greg Fealy (eds)
1996 Nahdlatul Ulama, traditional Islam and modernity in Indone-
sia. Clayton: Monash Asia Institute, Monash University.
[Monash Papers on Southeast Asia 39.]
218
Bibliography |
Beinin, Joel and Joe Stork (eds)

1997 Political Islam: Essays from Middle East report. Berkeley, CA:
University of California Press. [Published in cooperation
with Middle East Research and Information Project.]
Benda, Harry J.
1958 The crescent and the rising sun: Indonesian Islam under the Jap-
anese occupation, 1942-1945. The Hague: Van Hoeve, New
York: Institute of Pacific Relations.
1960 ‘Non-Western intelligentsias as political elites’, Australian
Journal of Politics and History 6:205-18.
1962 ‘The structure of Southeast Asian history: Some preliminary
observations’, Journal of Southeast Asian History 3:106-38.
Boland, B.J.
1982 The struggle of Islam in modern Indonesia. The Hague: Nijhoff.
[KITLV, Verhandelingen 59.]
Bruinessen, Martin van
2002 ‘Genealogies of radical Islam in post-Suharto Indonesia’,
Utrecht University Website, http://www.let.uu.nl/~Martin.
vanBruinessen/personal/publications/genealogies_
islamic_radicalism.htm.
1995 ‘Muslims of the Dutch East Indies and the Caliphate ques-
tion’, Studia Islamika 2-3:115-40.
Bush, Robin
2012 ‘Islam and constitutionalism in Indonesia’, in: David Lin-
nan (ed.), Legitimacy, legal development and change: Law and
modernization reconsidered. Surrey: Ashgate.
2008 ‘Regional sharia regulations in Indonesia: Anomaly or
symptom?’, in: Greg Fealy and Sally White (eds), Express-
ing Islam: Religious life and politics in Indonesia, pp. 174-91.
Singapore: Institute of Southeast Asian Studies. [Indonesia
Update Series.]
Chaidar, Al
2000 Sepak terjang KW9 Abu Toto (Syekh A.S. Panji Gumilang) meny-
elewengkan NKA-NII pasca S.M. Kartosoewirjo. Cetakan ke-2.
Jakarta: Madani Press. [Serial musuh-musuh Darul Islam 1.]
1999 Pemikiran politik proklamator negara Islam Indonesia S.M. Kar-
tosoewirjo: Fakta dan data sejarah Darul Islam. Jakarta: Darul
Falah.
1999 S.M. Kartosoewirjo: Pemberontak atau mujahid. Jakarta: Suara
Hidayatullah.
219
| Bibliography
1998 Wacana ideologi negara Islam. Jakarta: Darul Falah.

1996 ‘Ideologi Negara Islam di Asia Tenggara: Telaah perband-
ingan atas terbentuknya diskursus politik Islam dalam
gerakan-gerakan pembentukan negara di Indonesia dan
Filipina pasca kolonialisme’. Thesis, Universitas Indonesia,
Jakarta.
Cribb, Robert
1991 Gangsters and revolutionaries: The Jakarta people’s militia and
the Indonesian revolution, 1945-49. Sydney: Allen & Unwin.
[Asian Studies Association of Australia, Southeast Asia Pub-
lications Series 20.]
1986 ‘Administrative competition in the Indonesian revolution:
The dual government of Jakarta, 1945-1947’, in: Jurrien van
Goor (ed.), The Indonesian Revolution: Papers of the conference
held in Utrecht, 17-20 June 1986, pp. 129-46. Utrecht: Insti-
tuut voor Geschiedenis. [Utrechtse Historische Cahiers,
jaargang 7, 2/3.]
Dahm, Bernhard
1969 Sukarno and the struggle for Indonesian independence. Translated
from the German by Mary F. Somers Heidhues. Ithaca, NY/
London: Cornell University Press. [Originally published
as Sukarnos Kampf um Indonesiens Unabhängigkeit: Werdegang
und politische Ideen bis zu seiner Wahl zum ersten Präsidenten der
Republik Indonesien im August 1945. Kiel: n.n., 1964.]
Dhofier, Zamakhsyari
1992 ‘The intellectualisation of Islamic Studies in Indonesia’,
Indonesia Circle 58:19-31.
Dick, Howard
2002 Surabaya, city of work: A socioeconomic history, 1900-2000. Ath-
ens, OH: Ohio University Press. [Research in International
Studies.]
Dinas Sedjarah Kodam VI Siliwangi
1968 Siliwangi dari masa ke masa. Jakarta: Fakta Mahjuma.
Dinas Sejarah TNI, Jakarta
1978 Album peristiwa pemberontakan DI-TII di Indonesia. Jakarta:
Dinas Sejarah Tentara Nasional Indonesia Angkatan Darat.
Dinas Sejarah TNI, Bandung
1982 Penumpasan pemberontakan DI/TII, S.M. Kartosuwiryo di Jawa
Barat. Bandung: Dinas Sejarah Tentara Nasional Indonesia
Angkatan Darat. [First edition 1974.]
220
Bibliography |
Dijk, Cornelis van

1981 Rebellion under the banner of Islam: The Darul Islam in Indone-
sia. The Hague: Nijhoff. [KITLV, Verhandelingen 94.]
Dudung
1987 Peristiwa Cipari. Thesis, Universitas Padjadjaran, Bandung.
Ekadjati, Edi S.
1979 Sejarah kebangkitan nasional daerah Jawa Barat. Jakarta:
Proyek Penelitian dan Pencatatan Kebudayaan Daerah
Jawa Barat, Pusat Penelitian Sejarah & Budaya, Departe-
men Pendidikan dan Kebudayaan.
Elson, Robert E.
2008 The idea of Indonesia: A history. Cambridge: Cambridge Uni-
versity Press.
Elson, B. and C. Formichi
2011 ‘Why did Kartosuwiryo start shooting?’, Journal of Southeast
Asian Studies 42-3:458-86.
Ensering, Else
1984 ‘Afdeeling B of Sarekat Islam. A rebellious Islamic move-
ment’, in: Dick Kooiman, Otto van den Muijzenberg, and
Peter van der Veer (eds), Conversion, competition, and conflict:
Essays on the role of religion in Asia. Amsterdam: VU Uitge-
verij. [Anthropological Studies Free University 6.]
Esposito, John L.
2002 Un-holy war: Terror in the name of Islam. Oxford: Oxford Uni-
versity Press.
Fakkih, Markhaban
1970 ‘Golongan santri dan peristiwa 426 di Klaten’. Thesis, Uni-
versitas Gadjah Mada, Yogyakarta.
Fasseur, Cornelis
1992 The politics of colonial exploitation: Java, the Dutch, and the cul-
tivation system. Translated from the Dutch by R.E. Elson and
Ary Kraal. Ithaca, NY: Southeast Asia Program, Cornell Uni-
versity. [Studies on Southeast Asia 8.] [Originally published
as Kultuurstelsel en koloniale baten: De Nederlandse exploitatie
van Java 1840-1860. Leiden: Universitaire Pers, 1975.]
Fealy, Greg
1996 ‘Wahab Chasbullah, traditionalism and the political devel-
opment of Nahdatul Ulama’, in: Greg Barton and Greg
Fealy (eds), Nahdlatul Ulama, traditional Islam and moder-
nity in Indonesia, pp. 1-41. Clayton: Monash Asia Institute,
Monash University. [Monash Papers on Southeast Asia 39.]
221
| Bibliography
Fealy, Greg and Virginia Hooker (eds)

2006 Voices of Islam in Southeast Asia: A contemporary sourcebook. Sin-
gapore: Institute of Southeast Asian Studies.
Fealy, Greg and Sally White (eds)
2008 Expressing Islam: Religious life and politics in Indonesia. Sin-
gapore: Institute of Southeast Asian Studies. [Indonesia
Update Series.]
Federspiel, Howard M.
2001 Islam and ideology in the emerging Indonesian state: The Per-
satuan Islam (Persis), 1923 to 1957. Revised second edition.
Leiden: Brill. [Social, Economic and Political Studies of the
Middle East and Asia 78.] [First edition 1970.]
Feener, R. Michael
2010 ‘New networks and new knowledge: Migrations, commu-
nications, and the refiguration of the Muslim community
in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries’, in: Rob-
ert Hefner (ed.), The new Cambridge history of Islam. Vol. 6,
pp. 39-68. New York: Cambridge University Press.
2007 Muslim legal thought in modern Indonesia. Cambridge: Cam-
bridge University Press.
Feillard, Andrée and Rémy Madinier
2011 The end of innocence? Indonesian Islam and the temptation of radical-
ism. Translated by Wong Wee. Singapore: NUS Press. [Origi-
nally published as La fin de l’innocence? L’islam indonésien face à la
tentation radicale de 1967 à nos jours. Paris: Indes Savantes, 2006.]
Feith, Herbert
1957 The Indonesian elections of 1955. Ithaca, NY: Modern Indone-
sia Project, Cornell University.
1962 The decline of constitutional democracy in Indonesia. Ithaca, NY:
Cornell University Press.
Feith, Herbert and Lance Castles (eds)
1970 Indonesian political thinking, 1945-1965. Ithaca, NY: Cornell
University Press. [Asian Literature Program of the Asia
Society, New York.]
Feith, H. and D.S. Lev
1963 ‘The end of the Indonesian rebellion’, Pacific Affairs 36-1:
32-46.
Florida, Nancy K.
1995 Writing the past, inscribing the future: History as prophecy in colo-
nial Java. Durham, NC: Duke University Press.
222
Bibliography |
Formichi, Chiara
2012a ‘Mustafa Kemal’s abrogation of the Ottoman Caliphate
and its impact on the Indonesian nationalist Movement’,
in: Madawi al-Rasheed, Carool Kersten and Marat Shterin
(eds), Demystifying the caliphate: Historical memory and con-
temporary contexts, pp. 95-115. London: Hurst, New York:
Columbia University Press.
2012b ‘Review article: Is an Islamic democracy possible? Perspec-
tives from contemporary Southeast Asia’, Journal of South-
east Asian Research 20:100-6.
2010 ‘Pan-Islam and religious nationalism: The case of S.M. Kar-
tosuwiryo and Negara Islam Indonesia’, Indonesia 90:125-46.
Foulcher, Keith
2002 ‘Sumpah Pemuda: The making and meaning of a symbol on
Indonesian nationhood’, Asian Studies Review 24-3:377-410.
Geertz, Clifford
1960 The religion of Java. Chicago/London: University of Chicago
Press.
Gerakan separatisme
2003 Gerakan separatisme Indonesia tahun 1945-1965. Jakarta: Arsip
Nasional Republik Indonesia.
Goor, Jurrien van (ed.)
1986 The Indonesian Revolution: Papers of the conference held in
Utrecht, 17-20 June 1986, pp. 57-78. Utrecht: Instituut voor
Geschiedenis. [Utrechtse Historische Cahiers, jaargang 7,
2/3.].
Gunaratna, Rohan
2003 Terrorism in the Asia-Pacific: Threat and response. Singapore:
Eastern Universities Press.
2002 Inside al-Qaeda: Global network of terror. New York: Columbia
University Press.
Hakim, L.E.
1955 Konstitusi negara-negara Islam. Jakarta: Bulan Bintang.
1951 Konstitusi negara2 Islam. Bandung: Al Ma’arif.
Hanneman, Samuel and Henk Schulte Nordholt (eds)
2004 Indonesia in transition: Rethinking ‘civil society’, ‘region’ and ‘cri-
sis’. Yogyakarta: Pustaka Pelajar.
Hardacre, Helen
1989 Shintō and the state, 1868-1988. Princeton, NJ: Princeton
University Press.
223
| Bibliography
Harvey, Barbara Sillars

1974 Tradition, Islam and rebellion: South Sulawesi, 1905-1965. PhD
thesis, Cornell University, Ithaca, NY.
1977 Permesta: Half a rebellion. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University
Press. [Cornell Modern Indonesia Project, Monograph
Series 57.]
Hasan, Noorhaidi
2006 Laskar Jihad: Islam, militancy, and the quest for identity in post-
New Order Indonesia. Ithaca, NY: Southeast Asia Program,
Cornell University. [Studies on Southeast Asia 40.]
Hefner, Robert W.
2010 (ed.) The new Cambridge history of Islam. Vol. 6: Muslims and
mondernity; Culture and society since 1800. New York: Cam-
bridge University Press.
2000 Civil Islam: Muslims and democratization in Indonesia. Princ-
eton, NJ: Princeton University Press. [Princeton Studies in
Muslim Politics.]
Heinrichs, W., Peri Bearman, and B. Weiss (eds)
2008 The law applied: Contextualizing the Islamic sharia. London:
I.B. Tauris.
Hering, Bob
2002 Soekarno: Founding father of Indonesia. Leiden: KITLV Press.
[Verhandelingen 192.]
Hilmy, Masdar
2010 Islamism and democracy in Indonesia: Piety and pragmatism. Sin-
gapore: Institute of Southeast Asian Studies. [ISEAS Series
on Islam.]
Horikoshi, Hiroko
1975 ‘The Dar-ul-Islam movement in West Java (1942-62): An
experience in the historical process’, Indonesia 20:59-86.
Hosen, Nadirsyah
2007 Shari’a and constitutional reform in Indonesia. Singapore: Insti-
tute of Southeast Asian Studies. [ISEAS Series on Islam.]
Ibrahim, Ahmad, Sharon Siddique and Yasmin Hussain (eds)
1985 Readings on Islam in Southeast Asia. Singapore: Institute
of Southeast Asian Studies. [Social Issues in Southeast
Asia.]
Ingleson, John
1988 ‘Urban Java during the depression’, Journal of Southeast
Asian Studies 19-2:292-309.
224
Bibliography |
Iskandar, Mohammad
2001 Para pengemban amanah: Pergulatan pemikiran kiai dan ulama
di Jawa Barat, 1900-1950. Yogyakarta: MataBangsa.
Ismail
1998 ‘Perjuangan K.H. Mustofa Kamil pada masa penjajahan
dan kemerdekaan di Garut antara tahun 1914-1945’. The-
sis, IAIN Sunan Gunung Jati, Bandung.
Jackson, Karl D.
1980 Traditional authority and national integration: A study of Indo-
nesian political behavior. Berkeley, CA/London: University of
California Press.
Jauhari, Usman
1987 ‘Peranan Hizboellah-Sabilillah dalam perlawanan bersen-
jata terhadap Belanda di Jawa Barat pada masa revolusi
fisik (1945-1959)’. Thesis, Universitas Padjajaran, Band-
ung.
Johns, Anthony H.
1985 ‘Islam in Southeast Asia: Problems of perspective’, in
Ahmad Ibrahim, Sharon Siddique and Yasmin Hussain
(eds), Readings on Islam in Southeast Asia, pp. 20-4. Singa-
pore: Institute of Southeast Asian Studies. [Social Issues in
Southeast Asia.] [First printed in 1976.]
Jones, Sidney
2005 ‘Recycling militants in Indonesia: Darul Islam and the Aus-
tralian embassy bombing’, Asia Report. Singapore/Brussels:
International Crisis Group.
Jong, J.J.P. de
1986 ‘Winds of change: Van Mook, Dutch policy and the realities
of November 1945’. In Jurrien van Goor (ed), The Indo-
nesian Revolution, Utrecht: Rijksuniversiteit Instituut voor
Geschiedenis, pp. 163-82.
Kahin, George Mc Turnan
2003 Nationalism and revolution in Indonesia. Ithaca, NY: Cor-
nell Southeast Asia Program Publications. [First edition
1952.]
Kamus Besar
2001 Kamus Besar Bahasa Indonesia. Jakarta: Balai Pustaka.
Keddie, Nikki R.
1969 ‘Pan-Islam as proto-nationalism,’ The Journal of Modern His-
tory 41-1:17-28.
225
| Bibliography
Kementerian Penerangan
1953 Republik Indonesia: Propinsi Djawa Barat. Jakarta: Kement-
erian Penerangan.
Kooiman, D., O. van den Muijzenberg, and P. van der Veer (eds)
1984 Conversion, competition, and conflict: Essays on the role of religion
in Asia. Amsterdam: VU Uitgeverij.
Laffan, Michael F.
2004 ‘An Indonesian community in Cairo: Continuity and
change in a cosmopolitan Islamic milieu’, Indonesia 77
(April): 1-26.
2003 Islamic nationhood and colonial Indonesia: The umma below the
winds. London: Routledge.
Landau, Jacob M.
1994 The politics of pan-Islam: Ideology and organisation. Oxford:
Oxford University Press.
Latief, Hasyim
1995 Laskar Hisbullah. Surabaya: Lajnah Ta’lif wan Nasyr
PBNU.
Latif, Yudi
2008 Indonesian Muslim intelligentsia and power. Singapore: Insti-
tute of Southeast Asian Studies.
Legge, John David
1981 ‘Daulat Ra’jat and the ideas of the Pendidikan Nasional
Indonesia’, Indonesia 32 (October): 151-68.
Liddle, R. William
1978 ‘Indonesia 1977: The New Order’s second parliamentary
election’, Asian Survey 18-2 (February): 175-85.
Lindsey, T. and J. Kingsley
2008 ‘Talking in code: Legal Islamisation in Indonesia and the
MMI shari’a criminal code’, in Heinrichs, W., Peri Bear-
man, and B. Weiss (eds), The law applied, pp. 295-320. Lon-
don: I.B. Tauris.
Linnan, David (ed)
2012 Legitimacy, legal development and change: Law and moderniza-
tion reconsidered. Surrey, UK: Ashgate.
Lubis, Nina Herlina
2003 ‘Religious thoughts and practices of the kaum menak:
Strengthening traditional power’, Studia Islamika 10-2:
5-7.
226
Bibliography |
Madewa, Lukman
1977 Esa hilang dua terbilang; Album kenangan KODAM 6/Siliwangi,
1946-1977. Bandung: Komando Daerah Militer (KODAM)
6/Siliwangi.
McGregor, Katharine E.
2007 History in uniform: Military ideology and the construction of
Indonesia’s past. Singapore: NUS Press.
McMillan, Richard
2009 ‘British military intelligence in Java and Sumatra, 1945-46’,
Indonesia and the Malay World 37-107:65-81.
2005 The British occupation of Indonesia, 1945-1946. London: Rout-
ledgeCurzon.
McVey, Ruth Thomas
2006 The rise of Indonesian communism. 1st Equinox ed. Singapore:
Equinox Publishing. [First edition 1961.]
1981 ‘Reviewed work: Traditional authority, Islam, and rebellion:
A study of Indonesian political behavior by Karl D. Jack-
son’, Pacific Affairs 54-2:260-87.
Melik, Sajuti
1953 Negara nasional ataukah Negara Islam. Yogyakarta: Kedaulatan
Rakjat.
Millard, Mike
2004 Jihad in paradise: Islam and politics in Southeast Asia. Armonk,
NY: M.E. Sharpe.
Mobini-Kesheh, Natalie
1999 The Hadhrami awakening: Community and identity in the Neth-
erlands East Indies, 1900-1942. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University
Southeast Asia Program.
Museum Waspada Purbawisesa
1997 Museum Waspada Purbawisesa: Buku panduan. 3rd ed.
Jakarta: Markas Besar Angkatan Bersenjata RI, Pusat Seja-
rah dan Tradisi ABRI. [First edition 1995.]
Nasution, Abdul Haris
1978 Sekitar perang kemerdekaan Indonesia. Bandung: Angkasa.
1968 Tentara Nasional Indonesia. Jakarta: Seruling Masa.
Nasution, Harun
1965 The Islamic state in Indonesia: The rise of the ideology, the
movement for its creation and the theory of the MASJUMI.
MA thesis, McGill, Montreal.
227
| Bibliography
Natsir, Muhammad
2008 Capita selecta. 3 vols. Jakarta: Abadi-Yayasan Capita Selecta.
1957 Islam sebagai dasar negara. Jakarta: Pimpinan Fraksi Masjumi
dalam Konstituante.
Niel, R. van
1960 The emergence of the modern Indonesian elite. The Hague: Van
Hoeve.
Niemeijer, A.C.
1972 The Khilafat movement in India, 1919-1924. The Hague: Mar-
tinus Nijhoff.
Nieuwenhuijze, C.A.O. van
1958 Aspects of Islam in post-colonial Indonesia: Five essays. The
Hague/Bandung: Van Hoeve.
1950 ‘The Darul Islam movement in Western Java ‘ Pacific Affairs
23-2:169-83.
Noer, Deliar
1973 The modernist Muslim movement in Indonesia, 1900-1942. Sin-
gapore: Oxford University Press.
1960 Masjumi: Its organization, ideology and political role in Indone-
sia. Master’s thesis, Cornell University, Ithaca.
Noer, D. and Akbarsyah
2005 K.N.I.P.: Komite Nasional Indonesia Pusat. Parlemen Indonesia
1945-1959. Jakarta: Yayasan Risalah.
Nur Ichwan, Moch
2001 ‘Differing responses to an Ahmadi translation and exegesis:
The Holy Qur’ān in Egypt and Indonesia’, Archipel 62:143-61.
Oates, William A.
1968 ‘The Afdeeling B: An Indonesian case study’, Journal of
Southeast Asian History 9-1 (March): 107-16.
Oliver-Dee, Sean
2009 The Caliphate question: The British government and Islamic gov-
ernance. Lanham, MD: Lexington Books.
Panitya Buku Peringatan Muhammad Natsir
1978 Muhammad Natsir 70 tahun kenang-kenangan kehidupan dan
perdjuangan. Jakarta: Pustaka Antara.
Pinardi
1964 Sekarmadji Maridjan Kartosuwirjo. Jakarta: Aryaguna.
Platzdasch, Bernhard
2009 Islamism in Indonesia: Politics in the emerging democracy. Singa-
pore: Institute of Southeast Asian Studies.
228
Bibliography |
Poeze, Harry
2007 Verguisd en vergeten: Tan Malaka, de linkse beweging en de Indo-
nesische revolutie, 1945-1949. 3 vols. Leiden: KITLV Uitge-
verij. [KITLV Verhandelingen 250.]
Rambe, Safrizal
2008 Sarekat Islam: Pelopor nasionalisme Indonesia, 1905-1942.
Jakarta: Yayasan Kebangkitan Insan Cendekia.
Rasheed, Madawi al-, Carool Kersten and Marat Shterin (eds)
2012 Demystifying the caliphate: Historical memory and contemporary
contexts. London: Hurst Publishers; New York: Columbia
University Press.
Ricklefs, Merle Calvin
2007 Polarizing Javanese society: Islamic and other visions (c.1830-
1930). Singapore: NUS Press.
2001 A history of modern Indonesia since c.1200. 3rd ed. Basing-
stoke: Palgrave.
1985 ‘Islamization in Java: Fourteenth to eighteenth centuries’, in
Ahmad Ibrahim, Sharon Siddique, and Yasmin Hussain (eds),
Readings on Islam in Southeast Asia, pp. 36-43. Singapore: Insti-
tute of Southeast Asian Studies. [First published in 1979.]
Rizki Ridyasmara
2004 ‘Yang pertama kali mendukung kemerdekaan Repub-
lik Indonesia 1945’, Majalah Saksi 4-21 (18 August 2004),
http://hensyam.wordpress.com/2006/08/18/yang-per-
tama-kali-mendukung-kemerdekaan-republik-indone-
sia-1945 (accessed 5 May 2009).
Roff, William R.
1970 ‘Indonesian and Malay students in Cairo in the 1920s’,
Indonesia 9 (April): 73-87.
Santosa, Kholid
2006 Jejak-jejak sang pejuang pemberontak: Pemikiran, gerakan &
ekspresi politik S.M. Kartosuwirjo dan Daud Beureueh. 2nd ed.
Bandung: Sega Arsy.
Sato, Shigeru
1994 War, nationalism, and peasants: Java under the Japanese occu-
pation, 1942-1945. Asian Studies Association of Australia.
St. Leonard’s, NSW: Allen & Unwin.
Schiller, A. Arthur
1955 The formation of federal Indonesia, 1945-1949. The Hague:
Van Hoeve.
229
| Bibliography
Schwarz, Adam
1999 A nation in waiting: Indonesia’s search for stability. St Leon-
ard’s, NSW: Allen & Unwin.
Shiraishi, Takashi
1990 An age in motion: Popular radicalism in Java, 1912-1926.
Ithaca/London: Cornell University Press.
Singh, Bilveer
2004 Jemaah Islamiyah in Southeast Asia. Singapore: Institute of
Southeast Asian Studies.
Sjariffudin, Amak
1963 Kisah Kartosuwirjo dan menjerahnja. 3 ed. Surabaya: Grip.
Slamet
1946 The holy war ‘made in Japan’. Vol. 2: Japanese machinations.
Batavia: n.n.
Smail, John R.W.
1964 Bandung in the early revolution, 1945-1946: A study in the social
history of the Indonesian revolution. Ithaca, NY: Department of
Asian Studies Cornell University.
Soekarno
1960 Dibawah bendera revolusi. Jakarta: Panitia Penerbit Dibawah
Bendera Revolusi.
Sudrajat, Suryana
2006 Kearifan guru bangsa: Pilar kemerdekaan. Jakarta: Erlangga.
Suherly, Tanu
1981 ‘Kekuatan gerilya di daerah Priangan pada waktu divisi Sili-
wangi hijrah tahun 1948’. Paper, Seminar Sejarah Nasional
ke-3, Jakarta, 10-14 November.
Suswadi, M.A. and E. Pristiwaningsih (eds)
2003 Sumpah Pemuda: Latar sejarah dan pengaruhnya bagi perger-
akan nasional. Jakarta: Kementerian Kebudayaan dan Pari-
wisata Indonesia.
Swift, Ann
1989 The road to Madiun. Ithaca, NY: Cornell Modern Indonesia
Project.
Temby, Quinton
2010 ‘Imagining an Islamic state in Indonesia’, Indonesia 89
(April): 1-36.
Tempo
2011 Kartosoewirjo. Seri buku Tempo: Tokoh Islam di awal
kemerdekaan. Jakarta: Gramedia.
230
Bibliography |
Tickell, Paul
1987 ‘Taman Pewarta: Malay medium-Indonesian message’, in
Paul Tickell (ed.), The Indonesian press: Its past, its people, its
problems, pp. 7-14. Annual Indonesian Lecture Series. Mel-
bourne: Monash University.
Tohari, Ahmad
1999 Lingkar tanah, lingkar air. Yogyakarta: LKiS.
Velthoen, Esther
2004 ‘Hutan and kota: Contested visions of the nation-state in
southern Sulawesi in the 1950s’, in Samuel Hanneman
and Henk Schulte Nordholt (eds), Indonesia in transition:
Rethinking ‘civil society’, ‘region’ and ‘crisis’, pp. 147-74. Yogya-
karta: Pustaka Pelajar.
Wahdani, Dani
2003 Politik militer Angkatan Perang Negara Islam Indone-
sia (A.P.N.I.I.) di Jawa Barat pimpinan Imam S.M. Karto-
soewirjo. Thesis, Universitas Padjadjaran, Jatinangor.
Wahyudi
2006 Aktivitas K.H. Yusuf Tauzirie dalam mengembangkan syiar
Islam di desa Cipari kecamatan Wanaraja kabupaten Garut
(1926-1981). Thesis, UIN Sunan Gunung Jati, Bandung.
Wilson, Greta O. (ed.)
1978 Regents, reformers, and revolutionaries: Indonesian voices of colo-
nial days. Honolulu: University Press of Hawaii.
Zubaida, Sami
1997 ‘Is Iran an Islamic state?’, in Joel Beinin and Joe Stork
(eds), Political Islam: Essays from Middle East Report. Berke-
ley: University of California Press.
231
Index
17 October affair 157 Angkatan Perang Ratu Adil

426 Battalion 156 (APRA) 151, 176-7
Anshary, Isa 155, 158, 161, 163,
‘Abduh, Muhammad 17 178-80, 196
abangan 5, 186 anti-imperialism 4, 16, 25
Abdoelwahab 84 anti-Islam 51, 186
Abdoessalam, Kiyai 86 apostasy (murtad) 86, 138-9, 197-9
Abdul Halim, Kiyai 115 arak 198
Abeyasekere, Susan 54 Ardiwinata, Major 142
Aceh 3, 7-8, 11, 122, 130, 147, 150, Arifin, Zainal 96, 140-1
159, 166-7 Army Historical Office 168
Adah Djaelani 189, 193 Arsjad, Toha 57, 109, 114-5, 121,
adat 56, 60, 141 135
Afdeeling B 33 asas tunggal policy 187
Afghanistan 162, 189 Asj’ari, KH Hasjim 85-6, 107
Ahmad, Zainal Abidin 162, 178-81 Aspinall, Edward 8, 159
Ahmadiyah 30 Awwas, Irfan 191-3
Aidit, Dipa Nusantara 157, 173
al-Azhar 17 Ba’asyir, Abu Bakar 189, 193
al-Djihad 51, 86, 87-9, 96 Badan Koordinasi Intelijen Negara
Alfatah, Wali 118-9, 152, 175 (BAKIN) 189
al-Islam bait al-mal 75
––Congress 23, 26, 59 Bali 3, 148, 158, 171
––Committee 51-2 Bamboe Roentjing militias 121,
––Pergerakan 52 174
Allied forces/Allies 11, 77, 81, 83-4, banditry 12, 133, 136, 138, 147,
94 181, 196
al-Qaeda 3 Bandung 15, 20, 25, 28, 30, 32, 53,
amir 137-8, 193 58-60, 65, 75-7, 87, 92-4, 97-100,
Amuntai 157-9, 161, 164, 205 115, 117, 119, 122, 134, 139, 162,
Angkatan Muslim Sedar (Amusa) 151 178, 184
| Index
Bangka 149 ––Masyumi branch 112, 117, 147

Banu Bakr 104 ––and communism 173-6
Barisan Pelopor 7 Cold War 175
Barisan Pemberontak Rakyat Communism
Indonesia (BPRI) 93 ––ideology 1-2, 10, 24, 90, 167, 189
Beureueh, Daud 130, 159, 163, ––Communist Party (PKI) 23, 156-
167-9, 185, 189, 192, 200 7, 162, 164-5
Blubur Limbangan 92, 100-1 ––Kartosuwiryo 18, 61, 182
Boedi Oetomo 20-1, 24, 45, 55 ––Sarekat Islam 22-3, 62, 175
Borneo 130, 148 ––infiltration in Darul Islam/TII
Boven Digoel 19, 54 173-6
Brebes 122, 134, 140 ––RI 97, 154, 156, 160, 166
British troops 82-3, 93, 94 ––troops 121, 123, 133, 192
brown front 47, 49 ––New Order 186
bughat (rebel) 137-8 Constitution
bupati 34-5, 38 ––Negara Islam Indonesia 11,
111,121, 123-4, 136, 194
Cairo 2, 16-7, 30, 65 ––1945 5, 88-9, 131, 153, 165, 168,
caliphate 187
––Ottoman 2, 4, 23, 52, 203 ––unitary state 153
––question 23-4, 41 ––1945 and Islam 5, 80, 82, 162,
––Indies’ Central Comite Chilafat 165, 179-81, 195-6
23 constitutional assembly 4, 89, 158,
––revival of 2, 23, 52, 66, 189, 193 161, 163-4, 168, 181, 205
capitalism 16, 26, 31, 38, 42, 53, 142 court
ceasefire ––Landraad 59
––1946 96, 98, 100 ––Islamic 59, 111, 138, 188, 198
––1949 132, 134-5 ––civil 59
Chaidar, Al 154, 191-2 criminal code
charisma ––NII 11, 124, 136, 193-9
––Kartosuwiryo’s 36-8 ––MMI 193-9
––Tjokroaminoto’s 22, 203 cultuurstelsel 53
Chasbullah, Wahab 160
China 21, 31, 33, 39, 82, 173 daerah
Chinese press 26-7, 44, 153 ––DI as Daerah Satu 120
Christian(s) 28, 40, 80, 148, 164, 166 ––istimewa 115
Cirebon 94, 98-9, 122, 132-5, 140 ––Masyumi 89
––Cirebon conference 115-7 ––peraturan daerah 195
234
Index |
Daftar oesaha hidjrah 60-4, 69 Dutch schooling 10, 15, 17-8, 22,
dakwah 88 41, 46
dar al-Islam 61, 89
Indonesia as 86, 90, 92, 103 Egypt 9, 162, 182
dar al-salam 89-90 elections
Darul Islam-Tentara Islam ––1946 4, 83
Indonesia ––1955 4, 8, 11, 157, 158, 161-4
––following 34, 36-7, 79 ––1977 186
––the ‘Darul Islam problem’ 11, ––1999 195
141, 145-9 ––constitutional assembly 89, 153,
––as rebellion 9, 150-1, 165-7 164
––Van Dijk 6-8 Ethical Policy 15-6
––military repression 3, 11, 120-1,
132-3, 152-3, 156, 160-1, 167-9 fa’i 138-9
––territory 120-1, 130, 134, 146-7, Fadjar Asia 25-8, 66
159 ––Dutch opinion 48
––motives 3, 6-8, 12, 158-9, 172-7, ––about Kartosuwiryo 48
181-6 ––Kartosuwiryo in 38-45, 49, 73
––formation 2, 10, 36, 77, 81, 92, Fascism 61, 67
103, 110-6, 121-5 fatwa 86, 161
––international dimension 65-6 Federative state of Indonesia 1, 66,
––and RI 11, 117-9, 125-7, 132-5, 96, 117, 145, 148, 150, 153-4, 159,
139-42, 154-6, 186-90 167
––revival 188-93 Feener, Michael 66, 164
dasar negara 158, 164, 180 Feith, Herbert 161, 166
dewan imamah 209, 124, 135-6, 145, fiqh (jurisprudence) 66, 86, 136,
189 194, 196, 198
Dewan Pertahanan Oemmat Islam Flores 54, 158, 189
(DPOI) 112-3 freedom of religion 59, 74, 80, 87,
dhimmi 196-7 124, 180
diya (compensation) 136, 196-7 Front Muballighin Islam 158
Djuanda 166 Gaboengan Politik Indonesia
dubbelstaat 114 (GAPI) 67
dunia Islam 90, 104 Gerakan Operasi Penumpasan 167-8
Dutch invasion Gerakan Pemoeda Islam Indonesia
––in 1947 10, 81, 89, 92, 96-100, (GPII) 32, 112, 115, 118, 158
103, 106, 175, 177 Gerakan Rakjat Indonesia
––in 1948 111, 126, 143, 195 (Gerindo) 55, 67
235
| Index
Gerakan tiga A 71-2 ––and Tentara Islam Indonesia

Germany 67 112, 114, 118
ghanimah 139 Hoeseinsjah 76, 94-5
Ghufron, Ali 171 holy war 10, 76, 85-7, 113, 115, 127,
Gozali Toesi, Kiyai Haji 109, 115, 136, 172 see also jihad, perang sabil,
121, 135, 142 perang suci
Great Depression 47 Hudaibiyah 104
Greater East Asia 70-5 hudud 136, 196-9
Guided Democracy 4, 160, 164, hukum Islam 103, 106 see also
167, 205 Islamic law
Hukum pidana 136, 193-4, 196-9
hadith 42, 124, 138, 158 hypocrite (munafiq) 137-8, 163
Hague, The 12, 16, 81, 83, 85, 135,
145 Ibrahim, Abdoelhadi 118
Hakko Itjo 72-3 Ibrahim Ajie, Colonel 169, 184-5
Hamengkubuwono IX, Sultan 148- Ide Agung Gde Agung 148
9, 152 Ikatan Cendekiawan Muslim
Harahap, Burhanuddin 163, Indonesia (ICMI) 188
166,169 ilmu Joyoboyo 36
Hardjono, Major 132 imam 22, 34, 107, 138
Hasjim, K.H. Chalid 163 ––Negara Islam Indonesia 121, 124,
Hasjim, K.H. Wahid 80, 85, 96, 147, 134, 138-9, 146, 177, 189, 196
140, 175, 200 ––Kartosuwiryo 9, 36, 115-6, 152, 201
Hassan, Ahmad 17, 65, 139 Imam Mahdi 36, 38
Hatta, Mohammad 53-4, 72, 80-2, imperialism 4, 16, 25, 31, 42, 50,
96, 125-6, 131, 135, 139, 148-50, 90, 161
165-6, 200 India 2, 23, 51, 63
hijrah Indian Khilafat movement 23, 44,
––migration 62, 134 51-2, 60
––as non-cooperation policy 10, Indo-Europeans 31
23, 48, 57-60, 67, 77, 87 Indonesia ber-parlemen 67
––strategy 63, 68, 105 Indramayu 98-9, 112, 122, 134, 173
Hizb ut-Tahrir 2, 124 infidel (kafir, kuffar) 85, 138-9, 197,
Hizboellah/Sabilillah 34, 87, 93-5, 199
99, 101-2, 120, 189 ––rule 4, 16, 61, 86
––leadership 76, 93, 110, 115 intellectuals 18, 20-2, 26, 41, 54,
––Kartosuwiryo as leader 76 88, 91, 162, 164, 169, 178-80, 188,
––Renville Agreement 99, 110, 113-4 194, 205
236
Index |
inter-Islamism 44 Jawi 3, 16-7

International Labour Conference Jemaah Islamiyah (JI) 9, 52, 190,
28, 48 193
Iran 3, 124, 162 jihad 61-4, 81, 86-7, 103-8, 122, 124,
Iraq 162 128, 137, 189
irrigation 16, 31 ––jihad al-asghar 63, 91, 106
Islam kaffah 66 ––jihad al-akbar 63, 91 see also
Islamic nationalism 2, 6, 26, 30, holy war, perang sabil, and
38-45, 70, 76-7, 82, 96, 108, 192 perang suci
Islamic law (sharia) 4, 9, 26, 35, Jong Islamieten Bond (JIB) 17,
40-1, 44, 49-50, 56, 59-60, 64, 80, 27-8
90-2, 104, 115-6, 120-4, 134-7, Jonge, Bonifacius Cornelis de 10,
159, 161, 181, 191, 193-6 see also 53, 77
Hukum Islam Junaidi 114
Islamic modernism 6, 17, 46
Islamic treasury 28, 137-9 kafir see infidel
Israel 118 kafir aman 138
kafir harbi 137
Jackson, Karl 34, 183 Kamil, Moestafa 29, 33, 49, 57, 76
Jakarta Charter (Piagam Jakarta) 4, Kamran 57, 76, 93-4, 110, 113-6,
80, 82, 107, 165, 195-6 121, 142
Jakarta 6, 13, 20, 81-3, 92, 129, 135, Kartawinata, Aroedji 29, 57, 61, 93,
150, 159, 165-6, 169, 187 118
––PSII 28-9, 32, 48, 57 kebangsaan 27, 29, 45, 80
––Masyumi 85, 112, 117, 147, 162, keris 35-6, 184
178-9 ketuhanan 80, 179-80
––DI-TII 122, 125, 191 khalifa (caliph) 34
Jamin, Moehammad 80 Ki Hadjar Dewantoro 72
Japanese occupation of Java and kiyai 33-4, 72, 105, 154
Sumatra 4, 5, 9-10, 33, 54, 66, Kleef, C.H. van 177
70-5, 131, 203 Komando Jihad 189
––Soeffah 70 Komando Terakhir (final
––Islam 72-5, 157 operation) 160
––Kartosuwiryo 73-4 Komite Nasional Indonesia Pusat
––defeat 76-7, 80-1, 178 (KNIP) 79-80, 83-4, 96, 106-7,
––Indonesian independence 79, 127, 141, 150-1
81-4, 204 Komite Pertahanan Kebenaran-
Jawa Hokokai 75, 77 PSII (KPK-PSII) 68-9
237
| Index
Komite Zakat Fitrah 28 ––Kartosuwiryo 10, 80-1, 84, 89,

Koninklijk Nederlands-Indisch 97, 113-5, 155
Leger (KNIL) 112, 177 ––congress 118-9, 154, 162
konsepsi (Soekarno) 158, 164-6, 205 ––Islamic state 10, 50, 80-1, 87-9,
100, 102, 118, 143
Lajnatul-Difa’i’an Indonesia 65 ––jihad 85, 103, 106-7, 109, 178, 186
language 21, 27, 40, 44, 123 ––Darul Islam 11, 110, 115-7, 131,
––Kartosuwiryo 18, 49, 41 140, 146-52, 163, 166
––Malay 18, 30-1, 42 ––regional rebellions 166-9
––usage in higher education 18, ––cabinet 111, 154-6
41 see also Sundanese Majelis Ulama/Madjelis Oelama 59
laskar 82-3, 125, 135 Makassar 158, 164
Lesser Sunda Islands 130 Malangbong 32-4, 41, 48-9, 68-9,
Liddle, William 186 93, 101
Liga Muslimin Indonesia 157 Malaysia 66, 193-4
Linggadjati Agreement 81, 84, Malingping 146, 171
96-100, 104, 109, 131 Markas Dewan Pimpinan
Lubis, Muhammad Nur 115, 121, 125 Perdjoeangan (MDPP) 93-4
martial law 136-8, 165
McGregor, Katharine 187 martyr (shahid) 11-2, 86, 105, 171,
McVey, Ruth 183 182, 190-1, 199, 201
Madiun Affair 123, 156, 165, 173-4 Mecca 16-7, 22-4, 33, 51, 61, 104
Madiun 23, 62, 118 ––‘Mecca-Indonesia’ metaphor 60,
majelis imamah 121 62, 64
Majelis Islam A’la Indonesia Medan 158, 161
(MIAI) 28, 59, 72, 75, 92 Medina 61, 69, 87, 111, 161, 181
Majelis Mujahidin Indonesia ––‘Medina-Indonesia’ metaphor
(MMI) 137, 191, 193-9 60, 62-3, 134
Majelis Oemmat Islam (MOI) 29, menak 10, 33-6
49, 113, 117-8, 120-1, 125, 142, 146 Middle East 2-3, 9, 16, 23, 46, 62-5,
Majelis Persatoean Perdjoeangan 189
Priangan or Markas Pimpinan Misbach, Hadji 200
(MPPP) 93-4 Moe’tamar ‘Alam Islami 23
Majelis Pertahanan Oemmat Islam Moertopo, Ali 189
(MPOI) 112-3, 117, 119 Moluccas 130, 158
Majelis Syuro Muslimin Indonesia Mook, H.J. van 83, 85, 96, 109
(Masyumi) 4, 8, 11, 75-7, 79, 85, ––demarcation line 110, 116, 128,
92, 96, 157, 161-4 131
238
Index |
Moscow 157, 173 ––Constitution 111, 121-5

Mudzakkar, Kahar 130, 156, 166-7, ––Criminal code 136-9, 196-9
169, 192 ––relation to RI 11, 111, 125-30,
mufti 51, 86, 124 132-5, 139-42, 145, 154-6, 160
Muhammad (Prophet) 61-2, 69, ––Masyumi 118, 163, 178-81
87, 104, 111, 161 ––territory 130, 134, 146-7, 159,
Muhammad Ali 30, 51 192
Muhammadiyah 30, 42, 56, 58-9, ––revival 189-90, 193-6 see also
72, 75, 79, 84, 115, 149 Darul Islam
Museum Waspada Purbawisesa Netherlands Indies Civil
187-8 Administration (NICA) 85, 95,
Muslich 154 103
Muslim Brotherhood 65-6, 190 Netherlands-Indonesian Union 96
Musso 173 neutrality
Mustafa Kemal 2, 23, 52 ––religious 38-9, 41-2, 59
mysticism ––Soekarno’s ideological 157, 203
––Kartosuwiryo’s 6, 19, 36-8, 182-5, New Order 4, 12, 181, 186-92
193, 200 New State (Negara Baru) 100, 102,
––in Sikap hidjrah 67 116
new world (dunia baru) 73-4, 90
Nabhani 124 Nieuwenhuijze, C.A.O. van 65
Nahdatul Ulama 4, 59, 75, 79, 85, Noer, Deliar 184
115, 149, 156-7, 160-3, 166, 187 Nurdi, Herry 192
––1936 Banjarmasin congress 86
––1946 party congress 86 Oni, Raden 102, 109-10, 113, 115,
Nasution, Haris 93-5, 114, 128, 132- 130, 135, 142
3, 166-8, 173, 177 Onrust Island 171
Nasution, Harun 87, 162 Opleidingsschool voor Inlandsche
Natsir, Muhammad 11, 17, 84, 111, Ambtenaren (OSVIA) 21
123, 125-6, 139-41, 154-6, 160-1,
164-6, 169, 172, 200 pagar betis 168
Nederlandsch-Indische Artsen Pakistan 66, 135, 162, 194
School (NIAS) 18-9 Palestinian question 24, 51, 65,
Negara Islam Indonesia 118, 188
––formation 36, 104-6, 111, 114-6, pan-Islamism 2, 9, 16, 22-4, 41-4,
120, 134, 190 50-3, 61, 64, 66, 72, 88
––proclamation 82, 109, 118, 134- pan-Arabism 23
6, 140, 142 pan-Asianism 45, 72
239
| Index
Pancasila 4, 9, 10, 79, 88, 119, 145, perang sabil 85, 103-7 see also jihad,
156-9, 161-2, 164, 179-81, 187, 195 holy war, perang suci
Pangwedusan 114 perang suci 104, 133 see also jihad,
Partai Demokrat Indonesia (PDI) perang sabil, holy war
186 Perdjuangan Semesta (Permesta)
Partai Golongan Karya (Golkar) 166-7, 169
186-7 pergerakan 4, 15, 51-2
Partai Indonesia (Partindo) 53-5, Permoefakatan Perhimpoenan-
58 Perhimpoenan Politiek
Partai Indonesia Raja (Parindra) Kebangsaan (PPPKI) 30, 42-3, 47,
55, 58, 67 49-50, 52
Partai Islam Indonesia (PII) 56, Persatuan Islam (Persis) 17, 30,
84-5 58-9, 65, 115, 139, 178
Partai Komunis Indonesia (PKI) Persatuan Tarbiah Islamiyah
see under communism (Perti) 157-8
Partai Nasional Indonesia (PNI) Persatuan Ulama Seluruh Aceh
11, 30-1, 45, 49, 51, 53-4, 84, 148, (PUSA) 130
155-7, 162, 164, 166, 173 Persiapan Persatoean Oemmat
Partai Persatuan dan Islam 71
Pembangunan (PPP) 186-7 pesantren 33-5, 193
Partai Sarekat Islam Hindia pilgrimage (hajj) 16-7, 44-5, 64, 66,
Timoer 23 188
Partai Sosialis Indonesia 84 Pinardi 19, 36-7, 49, 138, 184
Partawidjaja, Sanoesi 109, 115, 121, police action (politioneele actie) 98
135 polytheist (mushrik) 62, 104, 138
Partij Politiek Islam Indonesia Prawiranegara, Sjafruddin 166, 169
(Partii) 56 Prawoto Mangkusasmito 85, 133
Pasoendan 95, 111, 114, 119, 127, priyayi 15, 46
140, 145, 147, 153 proto-nationalism 4
Pekalongan 25-6, 122, 134, 151-4 Pusat Tenaga Rakjat (Putera) 72,
Pembela Tanah Air (Peta) 76, 95, 75
106
Pemerintah Revolusioner Republik qisas 136, 196-7
Indonesia (PRRI) 166-7, 169 Qur’an 1, 35, 42, 59, 62-3, 69, 90,
Pemoeda Moeslimin Indonesia 105, 124, 136-7, 158, 179, 195
(PMI) 32, 58 ––translation 30
Pemoeda Sosialis Indonesia ––nature 68
(Pesindo) 93-4, 123, 173 Quraysh 104
240
Index |
Ratu Adil (Just King) 22, 36, 38 Sarekat Islam Indonesia (Partai)
reformasi 191, 193 ––formation 20-3
religious revival 66, 186-7, 191, 193, ––1920s 3-4, 23-32, 42-3
198 ––1930s 39-41, 47-60, 66-8
Renville Agreement 92, 95, 102-3, ––1940s 67-9, 84, 93, 97, 105
109, 112, 124, 131 ––1950s 162, 166
––plebiscite 117 ––Kartosuwiryo 6-8, 10, 17, 25-34,
Republik Indonesia Serikat (RIS) 48-9, 57-60, 66-9, 184
135, 145, 147-51, 153, 176 ––non-cooperation policy 10, 48,
Resimen Tentara Perdjoeangan 50-3, 56-64, 67, 105-6, 134
(RTP) 94 ––communism 19, 24, 175
revolution ––Komite Penjadar 58
––Islamic 87, 92, 124, 127, 129, ––Komite Pertahanan Kebenaran
131, 136 68-9
––national 10, 81-2, 84, 87, 90-1, ––Japanese occupation 72, 75
104, 106, 118, 131, 150, 154, ––pan-Islamism 43-5, 50-3
156-7, 165, 178, 200-1, 203-5 ––attitude to Darul Islam (1950)
––social 8, 91 150-4, 169
––physical 91 Sarekat Priyayi 20
––individual 92 Sastroamidjojo, Ali 160, 163
Rida, Rashid 17, 30 Saudi Arabia 24, 162, 194
Ridwan, Abdullah 115 School tot Opleiding van
Roem, Mohammad 58, 84, 125-6, 163 Inlandsche Artsen (STOVIA) 20
Roem-Van Royen Agreement 128, secular nationalism 2, 10-1, 24, 39,
132-5, 145, 196 41, 45, 49, 52-5, 58, 72, 75-7, 89,
Round Table Conference 134-5 104, 131, 143
Russo-Japanese war 31 self-government 67, 72, 77, 109
Shafi’i
Sadikin, Colonel 132, 140-2, 150 ––imam 22
Salim, Haji Agoes 10, 17, 22-8, 33, ––jurisprudence 139, 194, 196-8
43, 48, 53, 56-60, 80, 84, 97, 118, sharia see Islamic law
175 Siffin, battle 138
Samudera, Imam 171 Siliwangi division 92, 94-5, 99-100,
Sangadji 29, 50, 53, 56, 58, 125 135, 141
Sanoesi, K. Ahmad 84, 118-9 ––withdrawal 96, 110-1, 113-4, 120,
santri 5, 21 123, 126
Sarekat Islam Angkatan/Afdeeling ––return to West Java 127-9, 132,
Pemuda (SIAP) 32, 57 146, 173
241
| Index
––and Darul Islam 133, 163, 168 Soekiman 50, 53, 56, 85, 96-7, 115,
––propaganda 177, 184-5 118-9, 155-6
Siliwangi museum 184 Soerianatanegara, Said 99, 102,
Singodimedjo, Kasman 85, 106-7, 110
118, 123, 125, 163, 172 Soetan Akbar 175
sinner (fasik) 137-8 Soetardjo petition 55, 59
Siti Kalsum 49 Soetoko 93-4
Sjahrir, Soetan 53, 82-4, 96 Soetomo 51, 55, 67
Sjarifuddin, Amir 55, 84, 97, 109, South East Asia Command (SEAC)
131, 173 13, 81, 85, 93
sji’ar Islam 66 Sudirman 123, 133
Socialism 20-2, 24, 90, 96-7, 109, Suharto 9, 11-2, 165, 186-91, 195
125, 161, 164 Sukarnoputri, Megawati 5
––Islamo-socialism 51, 175 Sulawesi 68, 72, 158, 176
––and SI 24, 42-3, 175 ––Darul Islam 3, 7-8, 11, 22, 122,
socio-economic injustice 9, 20, 25, 150, 167
38-9 ––regional rebellion 155-7, 166-7
Soeffah 32, 69-70, 175, 200 Sumatra 26, 48, 54, 68, 70, 96-7,
Soekarno 109, 117, 157, 159
––political strategy 2, 10, 24, 42-3, ––Darul Islam 130, 147, 188-9
47, 49-54, 160, 203 ––regional rebellion 155, 166, 169
––Kartosuwiryo 15, 25, 97, 128, Sumbawa 130
131, 134-5, 142 Sundanese 35, 183, 185
––in West Java 30-1 ––aristocracy 10, 33, 36
––and Japan 70, 72-3, 76, 79-80, 84 ––language 18, 31, 49
––diplomatic approach 96, 104, Sungkar, Abdullah 189, 193
134-5 Surakarta 19, 173
––1945 proclamation and Surjopranoto 56
constitution 4, 10, 81-3, 101, swadeshi 63
107, 136, 168 Syria 162
––as president 148, 153, 155-7,
162, 165, 168 ta’zir 136, 138, 196-8
––at Amuntai 158-9, 164 Taman Marsoedi 32, 69
––regional rebellions 7, 159, 166- Taman Siswa 72
7, 169 Tan Malaka 83, 174-5, 200
––Darul Islam 11, 110, 122-3, 128, Taoefiqoerachman, Kiyai 50 , 105-6
132, 149, 152, 154, 160, 176, 181 Taoeziri, Joesoef 29, 33-4, 49, 57,
––Masyumi 85, 89, 97, 119, 180 76, 114
242
Index |
Tasikmalaya 29, 68, 93, 99, 102, Tohari, Ahmad 176

114, 117-8, 120, 125, 129, 132, traditional authority 8, 16, 33-8,
134, 152, 174 102-3, 111, 182-4
Taufik, Gaos 189 transfer of sovereignty 10, 81, 128,
tauhid 63, 68, 73, 105 145-8, 176
Tegal 122, 144, 140 Transjordan 162
Tentara Keamanan Rakyat (TKR) transvestites 138
87, 92-3 Turkey 2, 162, 181
Tentara Nasional Indonesia (TNI)
––formation 92-5, 113 ulama 34-5, 38, 72, 76, 91, 161, 182
––clashing with Islamic troops 11, Umar ibn al-Khattab 198
92, 95, 99-101, 110, 112, 120, ummah (Islamic community) 59,
122, 128-33, 139-42, 147, 152, 63, 73-5, 79, 87, 89-92, 102-4, 106,
157, 163 116, 122, 124, 126, 130, 134-6,
––withdrawal from West Java 96, 138, 155, 163, 167, 190
110-4, 120, 123, 125-6 ––unity 2, 24, 40, 44-5, 51-2, 64
––return to West Java 126-9, 132, ummat kafirin 138
146, 173 United Nations 98, 109
––attitude to Darul Islam 111, 120, United States of America 109, 165
129, 132, 141-2, 145, 156, 185-7 usroh 190
––anti-Darul Islam operations 160-
1, 167-9, 187 violence 5, 22, 82, 109, 136, 150,
Tentara Republik Indonesia (TRI) 173
93-5 Darul Islam 3, 12, 141, 148-9, 164,
terrorism 12, 141, 146, 148, 181-3, 166, 172, 176-7, 182, 185-8, 192,
185, 187, 192 201
Thamrin, Mohammad Hoesni 55, Volksraad 54-5, 57-8, 60
67, 200
theft 197-8 wahyu 35-6, 184
Thoha, K.H. Zainal Hasan 125 wandu 138, 198
Tjokroaminoto, Anwar 123, 125 Westerling, R.P.P. 151, 153, 176-7
Tjokroaminoto, Haji Oemar Said Wijono, Colonel 150
10, 15, 17, 20, 25, 30, 33, 49, 51-3 Wilopo 156, 160
––death 48, 56 Wiranatakoesoema 75, 119, 133, 154
––political strategy 21-3, 25-6, 29, Wondoamiseno 51, 57-8, 68, 71-2,
31, 43, 50, 60, 69 75, 97, 118, 151, 175
Tjokroaminoto, Harsono 72, 85 Wongsonegoro 160
Tjokrosoejoso, Abikoesno 80, 123 World War 19, 81, 83, 136
243
| Index
Yogyakarta Republic 10, 96, 103, ––congress, 1928 27-8

106, 109, 111, 117-8, 125-6, 131-3, ––pemuda 81, 87
147-50, 153
youth 18, 71 zina 197-8
––Islamic 28, 32, 46, 57, 112, 186 Zulkifli Lubis, Colonel 169
244

30-Islam and The Making of The Nation PDF

Uploaded by

Copyright:

Available Formats

30-Islam and The Making of The Nation PDF

Uploaded by

Document Information

Original Title

Copyright

Available Formats

Share this document

Share or Embed Document

Sharing Options

Did you find this document useful?

Is this content inappropriate?

Copyright:

Available Formats

30-Islam and The Making of The Nation PDF

Uploaded by

Copyright:

Available Formats

Islam

and the making

Islam and the making of the nation

Chiara Formichi (1982) has a PhD from School of Oriental and

ISLAM AND THE MAKING

KITLV is an institute of the Royal Netherlands Academy of Arts and

ISBN 978 90 6718 386 4

© 2012 Koninklijk Instituut voor Taal-, Land- en Volkenkunde

KITLV Press applies the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCom-

Authors retain ownership of their copyright, but they permit any-

Printed editions manufactured in the Netherlands

note on spelling and transliteration xiii

preface: new perspectives on political islam

1 planting the seeds: java, the nationalist movement and

2 political islam in changing times: sarekat islam and masyumi

The Brosoer sikap hidjrah PSII and Daftar oesaha hidjrah 60

3 religious resistance and secular politics: laying

4 building the islamic state: from ideal to reality

Opposing reactions: clashing military and political

6 from rebellion to martyrdom? 171

Beyond condemnation and glorification 199

conclusion: the development of political islam

This book would never have materialized without the support of

Annelieke Dirks and Juliana Finucane. Regardless, all mistakes

Addressing the political manifestation of Islam in modern Indo-

AABRI Arsip Angkatan Bersenjata Republik Indonesia

K.H. Kiyai Haji

Permesta Perdjuangan Semesta

No understanding of jihadism in Indonesia is possible without

The idea for this book came from an interest in understanding

as secular nationalism or communism.2 In 1926 Soekarno identi-

which to achieve national freedom. In the 1950s we witness one

scholarly approaches to islam and politics

has highlighted the key role played by this Islamic organization in

Hilmy seem to be content with jumping from 1945 to 2000, when

10 Van Dijk, Rebellion under the banner of Islam, p. 340.

Van Dijk aptly describes Central Java’s rebellion as ‘an off-shoot’ of

about this book

This book is a historical investigation of the interaction between

1930s and Imam of the Islamic State of Indonesia (Negara Islam

structure of the book

Kartosuwiryo’s vision of the anti-colonial movement was framed

Islam Indonesia saw itself as a separate state, in no ways competing

approach is that of reconciliation, developed amidst the New Order

a note on the sources

Memories of Kartosuwiryo and the Darul Islam were suppressed for

(PNRI, National Library of the Republic of Indonesia), Jakarta; and

Planting the seeds

In 1918 Kartosuwiryo was a dear friend. We worked side by side

from desa to kota: a nationalist leader in the making

The beginning of the twentieth century was marked by deep

1 Cindy Adams, Soekarno: An autobiography (Indianapolis: Bobbs-Merrill, 1965), p. 272. The

‘Natives’ were separated. However, after a hundred years of domi-

5 Zamakhsyari Dhofier, ‘The intellectualisation of Islamic Studies in Indonesia’, Indonesia

tion on the Indonesian youth: it alienated them from their original

these charges seem unfounded and largely aimed at discrediting

By the early twentieth century, Surabaya had become one of the

In Soekarno’s often-quoted words, ‘In 1916 Surabaya was a bus-

16 Adams, Soekarno, p. 34.

10 Van Dijk, Rebellion under the banner of Islam, p. 340.

1 Cindy Adams, Soekarno: An autobiography (Indianapolis: Bobbs-Merrill, 1965), p. 272. The

16 Adams, Soekarno, p. 34.

28 Amelz, H.O.S. Tjokroaminoto, p. 55.

68 Lubis, ‘Religious thoughts’: pp. 10-8.

69 Lubis, ‘Religious thoughts’: pp. 18-20, 26.

73 Pinardi, Sekarmadji Maridjan, p. 45.

25 PPO, March 1933, pp. 268-9; Overzicht, 8 April 1933.