The main metaphor in Pamijahan is related to the ‘cognate expression’ called pongpok. The pongpok is an imagined rectangular symbolic space providing the villagers with a way of locating their affiliations based on ancestral linkages. This is slightly different from the common metaphors in Austronesia that use various distinctive ‘botanic metaphors’ (Fox, 1997:8). The implications of this ideology of karuhun are found in the spatial order and hierarchical concept of symbolic interactions where the first side is the place of the primary family in the order. By virtue of this position, the family is then a primary group in society. The phenomenon is framed as ‘the creation of precedence’ that is “a priority in time but also a priority of position, rank or status” (Fox 1996: 9; Bellwood 1996: 25). This symbolic structure is maintained and ritualized in day-to-day activity. However, there is a space to negotiate this frame.
To comprehend the issue clearly, I will quote verbatim the narrative below, which was spoken to me by Beben Muhammad Dabas one night after he had finished leading the Khataman of the Shattariyyah and initiating new disciples. It was my first encounter with the Shattariyyah group in mid-November 1997 and I had been just three months in Pamijahan. Beben explained to me his perjalanan, or journey, in Sufism and his reading of the villagers’ opinions. For the purpose of analysis, I will make some annotations (cf. Parmentier 1994: 86-88) in order to identify the modalities used in the narrative.
Beben’s narrative, even though simple and short, in fact, displays the features that Peirce calls, ‘iconic’, ‘indicial’, and ‘symbolic’. These three modalities are related to the modes of representation in reference to its ‘object’. These signs mediate the past to the present. Thus, I have to frame these modalities in a third category called linguistic markers or ‘glossing’, ‘references’, and ‘pragmatics’. (Parmentier 1987)
[1] When we’re face to face they treat us well, but behind my back… I don’t know what the problem is.
[2] Actually, they’re the majority and they all babble. They’re unprincipled,
[3] Sometimes … sometimes they say the Shattariyyah in Pamijahan is finished, but even Mama Haji Kosim himself recognises us.
[4] I asked Pak Abdu if I could study with him. But he refused, because Muhammad Akna, my father, could carry it on (the teaching of the Shattariyyah).
[5] When I married I began to ‘study’. My intention then was the spiritual sincerity that I have now. Indeed, I feel firm in the ‘journey’ although in reality I’m still only learning. But it’s a genuine journey and I’m optimistic.
[6] Society at large has accepted us.
[7] And now it has become known outside the village that I’m one of the heirs of the tarekat. I’m just a beginner, not an adept.
[8] A while ago we were only 400, now we’re up to 700.
[9] And there are even a number of young people coming in, they’re mad keen, from the Western part of the village, saying they want to join us, just to witness a khataman here.
[10] From the Kaum, West Pamijahan and Warung Antay. And yet Wa Haji’s from the Kaum, and so is Haji Endang. But, thank God, there are older ones among them who keep on coming.
[11] What I perform for them in the special big meetings is tauhid (the doctrine of Islam), but in my own terms and according to my own character. If I discuss tauhid, there is nothing to be hidden and I do not depart from the Law (shari’a).
[12] The Law is explained here based on the Essence, over there it is based on the Law. Here it’s based on the ma’rifa, or Knowledge, so there is new meaning here for the novice.
[13] I show and I explain these things only after they have taken initiation.
[14] As for the explanation of the tarekat, even though the book is displayed to them, they cannot comprehend its contents.
[15] Sometimes when they ask, they’re not ready for the answers. But they still want to know, so the way begins to open for them.
[16] Why do others ‘blockade’ us with what they say and do, as if we do not exist here.
[17] As if the Shattariyyah were only in Cirebon, or anywhere, they never mention the one in Pamijahan. Well, we know their agenda.
[18] There seem to be no external obstacles, but obstacles of other kinds… I’m positive about the future.
[19] The reason is that the people of Pamijahan feel rather embarrassed by the fact that they are part of the community of the sacred site of Pamijahan, they are very aware of this.
[20] They don’t know what to do – should we really dance on the grave? We claim to be the people of Pamijahan, but we cannot make the ‘journey’.
[21] Because there are young people around, we plant our seeds in this generation. They only turned thirty yesterday, but they’re initiated. It was done in the mosque.
[22] There are some people who are interested in the spiritual dimension; if they try to put it into words, it will not come out right.
[23] Sometimes their hearts accept my existence, but if they recognise me their pride gets in the way. Beben is just a young sprout… Sometimes if the target is not God Himself, it is really difficult, resentments arise.
[24] Logically and literally it is possible, but the reality… is that they go and join up with outsiders.
[25] People dare to try to take my followers away.
[26] But that becomes an impetus for me, people are just like that. If they can say that there is no tarekat here, if they can deny it, why haven’t they wiped us out?
Beben’s narrative above, of course, should not be treated as the most representative example of negotiating the Wali’s signs in the context of ‘precedence’. (cf. Fox 1996; Bellwood 1996) However, since I observed a lot of materialized signs relating to his speech, I regard his narratives as an example of negotiating the signs of karuhun, the signs of the ‘sides’ of the tomb. Beben has ‘travelled’ to a symbolic territory while other prominent families have preferred to stay in the area of safely at the centre of the pilgrimage blessing site. Beben has not only moved to the more condensed mystical territory but has also literally build his zawiya outside the most sacred territory. (cf. Bellwood 1996:25-26)
Beben tries to present himself as a humble young man. This is not because of some individual psychological burden but rather socio-cultural factors. By socio-cultural factors, I mean the totality of the system of symbolic patterns of interaction that influence people’s behaviour. The fact is that, at that time of my talk with him, Beben was 37 years old and relatively young compared to other prominent members of the guild of custodians, and some elders believe that to enter Sufism properly one should reach at least the age of forty. An elder explained to me that Sufism is not an easy way of life. One should be able to reduce involvement in worldly life gradually. The age of forty is a good time to start.
One prominent custodian informed me that one day a young politician came from Bandung who had family links with the Wali. He asked to be initiated into the Shattariyyah Order. The custodian replied to the young man “as long as you are still in active in a political party and still under the age of forty, then you won’t be able to perform the mystical journey.” This is evidence that there is an agreement of opinion among the elders and prominent kuncen that the Way, or tarekat, is not for ordinary people. However, the young Sufi Beben does not accept this condition.
As seen in the excerpt above, Beben is displaying three important signs. The first is the sign referring to someone’s speech. In his narrative he recited what others have said about his activity. It should be noted that Beben did not refer to particular names [1, 3, 23]. His narrative also mentions ‘the ongoing speech event’ [7-15] and a ‘pragmatic’ meaning derived from 11, 12, 13 and 23. He did not only evaluate ‘signs in the past’ and make a discourse of history [4], but he also dared to show to outsiders, like me, that he is one of the points in the continuum of history. To do this, he also demonstrated his ability to recite some pragmatic patterns from tradition, [11, 12, 13, 14], which explicitly enhance his position as a young Sufi.
From the illustration above, it is becoming clear that a ‘convention’ or tali paranti is being negotiated. For Beben and his followers, to negotiate the ‘convention’ is to ‘play’ with two kinds of narratives. Adopting what Parmentier refers to as ‘the sign of history’ and ‘the sign in history’, the first narrative is ‘the narrative of Sufism’, and the second is ‘the narrative in Sufism’. The young Sufi master has to collect all the narrative in history to hand. In my view, this young Sufi is one of the best collectors of Shattariyyah manuscripts in the Valley. He has a complete version of a Shattariyyah text. A manuscript of the Shattariyyahitself is an icon of history. It presents to the believer as a sign from the past. Indeed, Beben’s father, as seen in Chapter 6, is part of the historical narrative.
The silsilah, the main key word in the narrative of Sufism, ‘resides’ in Beben’s zawiya. This is ‘a sign in history’. However, the young traveller also has to broadcast the narration of his journey perjalanan or tarekah. This is a ‘materialization’ of the past in his contemporariness. It is a kind of tapping of barakah from the margin of the village. It is not derived from the custodianship. It is not only that his zawiya is located on the border between the sacred and the profane, but also because his followers come from the young generation and a group who are distant from the primarily family in the kapongpokan. There is a situation where the custodianship and the Sufi Order are interested in the symbol but interpret it through different routes. The custodians are primarily taken from the leading figures in a pongpok which has a clear kokocoran or line of descent. Beben himself is one of the staff of custodians representating the pongpok tilu, or third side. However, the pongpok hiji, where the leader of the custodians is from, seems to take precedence in term of ziarah.
Such regimentary meanings have stimulated the young ‘traveller’ to create and find a different ‘institutional’ meaning through a different door of the symbolic sources of veneration of the Wali: namely the institution of Sufism. Just as the custodians mediate pilgrimages, so the Sufi leader or, at least, the representative of the Order, manages the mystical organisation in the Valley of Safarwadi. This is slightly different from the case discussed by Trimingham (1998) where the management of the sacred sites is likely to be attached to the Sufi institution.
In the past, as suggested by the senior custodian, a custodian should belong to two legitimate traditions. He should get access to the custodianship as well as to the mystical congregation. However, in contemporary Pamijahan, he confessed, many custodians have not read, nor do they practise, the Book of the Wali properly. He said that some of them are not even acquainted with the nature of the Wali’s mysticism. This lack of knowledge and practice of Sufism among the custodians is now being perceived as one of the main factors in the decline of barakah in the village. It is important here to rephrase what Hefner called “the consequence of a distribution of cultural knowledge” in societies in which “everyone does not rethink tradition” in each generation. Indeed, for many people it need not even be the object of much intellectual concern. (Hefner 1985: 9-18): The knowledge of the past and present are in fact scattered. In other words, there is a distribution of knowledge of the past based on cultural and social categories.[2]
From these two narratives, thus, we learn that the scattered past is brought to the scattered present. The main themes of the narratives lie in the process of comprehending that scatteredness. What is happening in Pamijahan now affirms a dynamic relation between the symbolic past, the present, and the agency of the social interaction, which, in Hefner’s phrase, is called ‘cultural reproduction’. (Heffner 1985) In Safarwadi, this not only involves liturgy, which is derived from the sacred narratives, but also social interaction, which secures the transformation of knowledge (ibid).
Some villagers see rebuilding this tarekat as obedience, but others see it as the expression of local affairs. In fact, for Beben, there is no question regarding his legitimacy because he inherited the teaching from his father, a true Shattariyyah follower in Pamijahan.[3] Thus it is possible for an institution to create a new intermediary space outside the institution of the custodianship, but the custodians see such an institution as tapping the blessing “not through the right ‘door’”. On the other hand, what happens in Pamijahan also reminds me of what Gellner (1969), Eickelman (1976) and Gilsenan (1973) describe about the relation between the Sufi orders and social dynamics. The igguramen of North Africa must exercise various strategies in order to maintain their position in the loci of barakah. This is due to the fact that when saints blessing increases, the blessing has to be be distributed. Gellner signifies that the saintly lineage roles increase better by acting as the mouthpiece of the God. However, Gellner found that the saint’s barakah might decrease if they were incapable of performing their functions and they had to leave the central territory of the barakah (Gellner 1969: 70-80). Thus, for Gellener, there are two kinds of holy men: an effective and ineffective saint (ibid).
It is my argument in this volume that the strategies implemented by the villagers in order to pull blessing to their social activities involve various narratives sources and strategies. Now, in Islam a strategy should be confirmed by Scripture or otherwise it is not regarded as ibadah. Ibadah in Islam, as always suggested by the custodians, has double edges: the vertical as well as the horizontal. In the former, the followers perform very highly structured rituals prescribed in the five pillars of Islam. On one hand, the meaning of these rituals is addressed to God Himself. On the other hand, the meaning of ibadah is related to good conduct that is primarily addressed to men. Yet, the relation between the vertical line and horizontal lines is similar to the two sides of a coin. In the language of the custodians, to serve the pilgrims is a horizontal ritual; the chance for conducting a good deed for the pilgrim guests. But at the same time it is also understood as ritual in the vertical mode; to provide pilgrims with shelter and to guide them properly through the pilgimrage experience, will bring a reward from God. Thus, supposedly, all conduct is performed in order to activate the vertical axis as well as the horizontal one. The inseparableness of ibadah, or ritual, and custom, or tali paranti, has been discussed by Muhaimin (1995) in his ethnographical notes on local Islam in Cirebon. However, Muhaimin does not discuss further the consequences of different interpretations of the same category of ibadah in relation to the symbolic institution (ibid, 109-149).
In the valley of Safarwadi, the translation of the Wali’s barakah, which is mediated by various rituals, is subject to negotiation and even conflict among the participants as is seen in the rituals of Sufism. In the literature on rituals and religions, there has been considerable research on the function of ritual as the means of mediating social conflict. (Gellner, 1969: 5) The study of Javanese religion (Geertz, 1976:355) suggests that ritual is unable to mediate a conflict between two groups who actually retain the same beliefs. In Pamijahan, the potential conflict inheres in the spatial organization and in the narratives of the Wali. Since a certain group has dominated the cultural affairs of the village, however, the latent conflict can be transformed into the more symbolic exercises as found in the case of the Shattariyyah Order.
Beben realised that to tell a story of local affairs to me could give rise to problems in the future. He is not a man to make a ‘revolt’ in the sacred sites. Rather, he is trying to find a symbolic place in the villagers’ affairs from which to publicly criticise the role of the pakuncenan while still remaining part of this traditional institution. His affiliation with the third of the ‘sides’ or pongpok, not the first, renders him, to some extent, vulnerable in the guild of custodians (pakuncenan) where the first pongpok appears to dominate the assembly. This is a simple example of how ‘the ideology of the founder’ functions in social action (Parmentier 1987). The study mainly questions the role of a ‘founding ideology’ in relation to ‘hierarchy’, and ‘equality’. Even though studies mention that there are various modalities applied in the field studied, the common discourse of the founder ideology is apparent.
If we consider that a particular culture is constituted from various sign functions (Geertz, 1973: 29-30) then we have to put the ‘khataman, indeed the whole Shattariyyah Order of Pamijahan, as one of the most important signs in the valley ‘signifying order’. As has been illustrated above, the Sufi congregation, the leader of Shattariyyah, the followers, the space or zawiya and the liturgical text are all displayed in the residence of Beben Muhammad Dabas. The sheer numbers of disciples, who mainly come from the neighbouring areas of Pamijahan, significantly indicate how important these signs are in the valley of Safarwadi.
However, some villagers are unaware of the potency of Sufism while others have fruitful access to the pilgrimage. Sometimes it is also not a matter of awareness but rather a matter of choice. For instance, whether to perpetuate the Wali’s Order or to serve the pilgrims and maintain the shrines, the choice, in fact, is not easy, particularly when the web of ‘tali paranti’, or tradition and custom, must approve it. Accordingly, there is an important phenomenon that should be explored further in order to comprehend the ‘semiotic’ process involving various groups in society that claim to be of a legitimate chain and have access to the blessing of the Wali. The question here is why and how the ‘signs of the past’ are negotiated.