Dating and Piety among Indonesian Muslim Youth

How do young Indonesian Muslims date? How does dating relate to piety?

I have found this topic fairly difficult to write about given its intimately personal nature. It is hard to make generalizable claims from such subjective data (human experience in its most emotional state), so I feel that I genuinely lack the knowledge and authority to write most of what follows. Additionally, in analyzing dating culture, I am putting the experiences of myself and close friends under an unusually personal and uncomfortable microscope. That being said, if I have written anything that is inaccurate or misleading, or that directly conflicts with your own personal experiences, please let me know.

Regardless of difficulties and limitations, I also find this to be an important topic that deserves to be written about. Discussions of Islam and culture outside of scholarly literature rarely reach past discussions of extremism and terrorism. But if we care about studying Islam as a social phenomenon—and not just as it relates to politics and security issues—then we need to look at the many other myriad issues in which Islam intimately penetrates the lives of Muslims who are living it.

While studying abroad in Tunisia in 2014, I saw a culture that largely frowned on dating. Instead, the first openly acknowledged step in a romantic relationship was usually engagement to be married. Tunisians would inquire about others' relationship statuses not by asking whether they had a boyfriend/girlfriend, but by asking whether they had a fiancé(e). There were rumors of a former study abroad student who had gotten engaged with a Tunisian woman just so that they would be allowed to go out together and hold hands in public. While this attitude is partially attributable to local Tunisian Arab and middle class culture, it was also often explained to me by citing that "dating isn't allowed in Islam."

Similarly, although dating was fairly common among the Muslim community at my alma mater in the United States, students' relationships were usually kept secret. Understandably, privacy was seen as appropriate for private relationships, but this was also driven by a fear of the judgement of other students. As in Tunisia, this secrecy was obviously partially influenced by group dynamics and the unique cultural backgrounds of different students, but it was also certainly influenced by common legal and ethical readings of Islam that discourage dating.

But regardless of whether pre-marital romantic relationships among Muslims are called "engagement" rather than "dating" in Tunisia or whether they are kept secret from fellow Muslims on American college campuses, the fact remains that these romantic relationships do exist.

But before living in Indonesia, I was never exposed to a community of Muslims that not only dated, but did so openly and unabashedly. When living in a boarding school in Aceh (a province with a reputation for being especially "Islamic"), I was shocked to find that late high school students (in a rural area) were dating at a rate that I gauged was similar to American high school students and that their parents were usually aware and not overly disapproving of these relationships.

Indonesian dating culture

After witnessing this phenomenon during my time in both Aceh and Java, I decided to make it the focus of my final project for the CLS Indonesian summer language program in Malang. This involved carrying out interviews with students at the State University of Malang about their experiences, aspirations, and opinions about dating in Indonesia. As a result, I can offer a general (and vastly oversimplified) picture of how dating works in Indonesia (at least among typically middle class university students).

Indonesian relationships start with a process referred to as PDKT (short for pendekatan, or "getting close"). This relationship phase is not expressed as an official status, but rather corresponds to the situation where an American student might explain, "we've just been hanging out." Similarly, PDKT is vague, has no guarantee of leading to a formal relationship, and can last as long as a few months. 

PDKT is usually (though certainly not always) initiated by the man who gives (not-so-)subtle signs to the woman (I sincerely regret that as a result of my experience and access, I can only attempt to describe heterosexual relationships). These signs usually involve showing his care (perhatian) for her, which is usually demonstrated by frequently asking frivolous questions, such as "have you eaten/bathed/prayed yet?" or "are you sleepy/exhausted/bored?" These inquiries demonstrate that the well being and comfort of his crush (gebetan) are of concern to him. (These questions serve the function of the American "how are you?" or "what's up?" in that the response—almost always "good" and "not much," respectively—is not as important as the question itself having been asked.) Another characteristic of the PDKT phase is "venting" (a poor and less emotive translation for curhat, which is short for curahan hati or "pouring [one's] heart out") to each other. In a culture that discourages complaining about one's problems, mutual curhat helps signal the intimacy (abnormality, non-public-ness) of a relationship. 

Eventually, PDKT is followed up by formal dating (pacaran), in which the man and woman make a commitment to each other, are referred to as boyfriend/girlfriend (pacar), and—necessarily—express their love for each other. In Indonesian relationships (unlike in the vast majority of American ones), the word "love" (cinta, sayang, kasih) is used as soon as a couple formalizes a relationship, and its use is in fact a crucial part of the process of solidifying that relationship. (To any Indonesian readers, American couples rarely say "I love you" until at least a few months into the relationship.) Once this relationship is official, the couple participates in similar activities like those enjoyed by American couples; they eat together, go to the mall or the movies, and just hang out. (I cannot comment on the sexual lives of Indonesians. Although nearly no one admits to having sexual relations outside of marriage, when asked about the sex lives of others, most Indonesians say it is fairly prevalent.)

Not only is dating prevalent in Indonesian youth culture, but it has become a norm to the point where being single is (lightly) stigmatized. In most social groups in Indonesia, to be chronically single (jomblo) is a point of shame and can lead to becoming the butt of friends' jokes. Being jomblo is not just to be single, but to seem to be unable to attract a parter. As the popular proverb goes, "single itu pilihan; jomblo itu nasib" ("being single is a choice; being jomblo is fate").

See this Saykoji song that makes fun of Indonesian men who are jomblo:

The stigmatization of being jomblo is affected by two main cultural forces (among others). The first is prevalent homophobia. When not having a significant other can bring suspicions of homosexuality, there is an even greater shame associated with being jomblo and hence an even greater incentive to not be seen as jomblo. The second is the pressure on Indonesians (particularly women) to get married. A woman who is not married by her late 20s or a man who is not married in his early 30s will typically endure a barrage of pressure from friends and (mostly) family. To be jomblo is to be another (seemingly unreachable) step away from achieving this goal.

But what about Islam?

Now, the above description of dating practices and attitudes among Indonesian Muslim youth may reasonably beg the question: what about Islam?

I have neither the interest nor the expertise to cite Islamic jurisprudential or ethical scholarship concerning pre-marital romantic relationships. What is interesting, however, is that in most other cases I am familiar with outside of Indonesia, consciously pious Muslim communities are not as accepting of dating, and—significantly—they base at least part of this position on Islamic teaching.

This line of thought exists in Indonesia as well, but it simply isn't very popular. Certain stricter groups have opposed the prevalence of dating on the grounds that they see it as un-Islamic. While they are a minority in the overall Indonesian Muslim community, these groups have been vocal with campaigns like #IndonesiaTanpaPacaran ("#IndonesiaWithoutDating") to discourage young people from dating. Instead, they encourage them to adopt the practice of taaruf (from the Arabic تعارف for "getting to know [each other]"). As with most uses of recent Arabic loanwords in Indonesia(n), the use of taaruf connotes Islamic-ness (as opposed to PDKT, which notably has a similar denotation). Advocates of taaruf suggest that young Muslims get to know each other with marriage as the explicit goal, which should take place as soon as possible after compatibility is recognized. Any prolongation of the pre-marital relationship is seen as frivolous and as risking zina (extra-marital hanky-panky). These groups have even tried to redefine the narrative around jomblo, like in the slogan "jomblo sampai halal" ("stay single until it is permissible [marriage]").

It is important to understand the social position of these stricter groups and avoid the common mistake of using terms like "strict," "conservative," and "pious" interchangeably. It would be inaccurate to call them "conservative" as, although they are resisting cultural change, they are also demanding cultural change in the implementation of new practices like taaruf. It would also be a mistake to valorize them as somehow more "pious" that other Indonesians, although this is how they largely conceive of themselves. Among other Indonesian Muslims, however, the piety of these stricter groups can be seen as largely performative [sok taat] and not recognized as being a somehow more genuine way to practice Islam.

In Indonesia's Islamic mainstream, dating is largely seen as a cultural fait accompli and those who date are not necessarily seen as committing any sin (given they avoid zina). Outside of those aforementioned stricter groups pushing for taaruf, most opposition to dating is framed in non-doctrinal terms and is almost entirely focused on its practice among children seen to be too young. While a small minority may lament the poor religious state of Indonesians Muslim youth because of the prevalence of dating, this is not the mainstream view.

More importantly, average Indonesians are not rejecting these strict approaches on secular grounds; rather, they are asserting that this is too strict of an interpretation/application of Islam. They are not saying that Islam should not affect the private social sphere, but instead that Islam does not object to this particular private social activity. In other words, they are maintaining their conscious piety while defending dating as an Islamically acceptable social phenomenon. I remember a maulid (celebration of the Prophet's birth) ceremony at a boarding school where an Islamic preacher told the students to wait before starting to date—not on the grounds that it was un-Islamic, but because they should focus on school and pleasing their parents and that dating should come later. In a sermon that explicitly concerned how to be a good Muslim, this preacher maintained that there was in fact an appropriate place for dating.

A note on ascriptive vs. observational approaches to issues of Islam and culture

What does Islam say about dating?

Instead of trying to answer this question, I would much rather talk about the assumptions implicit in it. The above takes as a given that there is a singular "Islam" that can indeed say things. If approaching the issue through the mindset of a consciously pious believer and practitioner, this obviously must be assumed in order to come to an applicable legal or ethical conclusion. From the perspective of faith, even though there may be a plurality of interpretations, there still is an Islam that does say things.

However, if we want to approach the issue of dating as social scientists, these assumptions—and the analytical paths they lead us down—do little to help us to understand dating as a social phenomenon. In the social sciences, we should not approach Islam as a monolithic entity that has a fixed set of rules and positions on specific issues, as this external analytical imposition of our own interpretations (or selections of certain Muslims' interpretations) can blind us from the lived actual experiences of Muslims and the diversity of interpretations that they themselves develop. If we simply accepted the premise that Islam disapproves of dating, that would tell us nothing about how to understand the very real romantic lives of young Indonesian Muslims.

While this discussion may seem somewhat trivial when talking about an issue like dating, the same lesson applies to matters of greater political and social consequence as well. When a pundit asks, "Is Islam compatible with democracy?" they adopt this same unfortunate assumption that there is a singular, monolithic Islam that indeed says something about democracy. This can (and usually does) lead us to forgetting that there are actual Muslims who say things about democracy as well, and that perhaps their words are more important. Political commentators far too often turn directly to the Qur'an for answers about Islam, ignoring the social reality of Islam that is constituted by Muslims themselves. Likewise, when talking about counterterrorism, it is far less useful to have a comprehensive knowledge of early Islamic discourse on jihad than it is to know how modern Muslims actually understand the concept.

This abuse of text and disregard for lived experience and contemporary thought is the (pseudo-)intellectual fuel of the Islamaphobia movement. The ability to point out instances of violence in Islamic texts without having to engage with progressive Muslim discourse on those passages allows bigots to portray not just Islam, but also Muslims as derivatives of it (which is, of course, all orientalism sees Muslims as being) as violent and threatening.

I think it is appropriate to conclude with this sentiment from Abdelwahab El-Affendi:

Despite the achievements of scholars who have followed the sunnah (tradition) of Max Weber in using religion to explain social phenomena, it remains risky for social scientists to double as amateur theologians, especially when they want to speak in a prescriptive mode. This need not discourage us from dabbling in theology, as long as we remember that theology and political sociology are profoundly different enterprises. The greater risk is not that theology will corrupt social science, but the reverse. Social scientists have a dangerous tendency to take such theological concepts as “the rule of God” at face value and then run away with them—projecting, for example, simplistic contrasts with the political concept of “the rule of man.”