Article

the International

The commercialization Communication Gazette

2014, Vol. 76(4–5) 340–359
! The Author(s) 2014
of da’wah: Understanding Reprints and permissions:
sagepub.co.uk/journalsPermissions.nav
Indonesian Sinetron and DOI: 10.1177/1748048514523528
gaz.sagepub.com
their portrayal of Islam
Inaya Rakhmani
Department of Communication, Universitas Indonesia, Depok,
Indonesia

Abstract
The impact of media industrialization on mediated religious expression all over the
world has been substantial, and this study tries to understand the Indonesian case by
looking at the intersections between commerce and Islamic expression. Focusing on
Indonesian Islamic sinetron (soap operas), we shall see that contrasting ideological
motivations among producers have resulted in particular narratives within their con-
tent. Despite these peculiarities, all narratives use Islamic teachings to address societal
issues experienced by middle-class Indonesian Muslims. This, in turn, projects an image
of Indonesian Islam that blurs existing political divisions in Indonesian society.
This article argues that the sinetron plots are inherently a commercialization of
da’wah (proselytizing of Islam).

Keywords
Commercialization of da’wah, Indonesia, Islamic representation, Islamic sinetron,
television production

Introduction
In Media and Religion, Hent de Vries contends that there is a ‘return of the reli-
gious’ on a global scale that contests the ‘often self-congratulatory narrative of
Western, ‘‘secularist’’ modernity—whose hegemony has only been reinforced by
current tendencies toward globalization and the almost unchallenged appeal of free
market capitalism’ (2001: 3). Hent de Vries focuses on the complementarities and
contradictions among religion, morality, authority, traditional values, and political
ideology, which are recoding themselves in the new media system (Castells, 2000,
cited in De Vries, 2001: 13). This new media system includes technological forms,

Corresponding author:
Inaya Rakhmani, Department of Communication, Universitas Indonesia, Depok 16242, Indonesia.
Email: inaya.r@ui.ac.id

Downloaded from gaz.sagepub.com at FRESNO PACIFIC UNIV on January 15, 2015

Rakhmani 341

discursive protocols, and market values of globalizing media infrastructure

(Hirschkind, 2011: 90).
De Vries’s reintroduction of Derrida’s (2002) criticism on the ‘return of the
religious’—which shows how religious expression takes on new forms in modern
spaces—may seem at odds with Van Bruinessen’s thesis (2011, 2013) of a ‘conser-
vative turn’ in contemporary Indonesian Islam. De Vries emphasizes the connec-
tions with contemporary mediatizations of religious expression, demonstrating the
historical situatedness of different manifestations, which according to us is where
Bruinessen’s thesis lies. Van Bruinessen begins with the assumption that Indonesian
Islam, once celebrated by the ‘West’ as tolerant, has known a number of ‘conser-
vative’ developments since the end of Suharto’s authoritarian regime (1965–1998).
In De Vries’s frame, which sees religious developments in the long term, the ‘con-
servative turn’ is a moment in Indonesian history in which ‘various currents that
reject modernist, liberal or progressive re-interpretations of Islamic teachings and
adhere to established doctrines and social order’ (Van Bruinessen, 2013: 16)
become mainstreamed by market capitalism. This is strengthened by Fealy and
White’s (2008) edited volume on how the expression of Islam is now embedded in
Indonesia’s economy. With such considerations in mind, this article delves into the
‘electronic materiality of spiritually transmitted habits’ (Castells, 2000, cited in De
Vries, 2001: 13) by looking at how Islam is being mainstreamed in and by
Indonesia’s commercial television system.1
From 1965 to 1989, Indonesia’s sole televised information source was the state-
owned Televisi Republik Indonesia (TVRI), whose portrayal of Islam stayed care-
fully within the religious plurality framework acknowledged by the authoritarian
New Order regime. In 1990, Indonesia’s first private television (RCTI) was
founded. Around the same time, new media technologies (particularly satellite
television and, earlier, video cassette rentals) performed an important role in cul-
tural globalization, which challenged the regime’s tight control over information
(Kitley, 2000; Sen and Hill, 2000). With exposure to foreign television programs,
the audiences’ demand for quality programs increased—more than TVRI could
afford to produce. Thus, by 1995, RCTI was quickly followed by four others. By
2000, Indonesia had nine commercial stations and a highly competitive television
landscape.
Compared to the 1980s and 1990s, when Islam was shown mainly for tokenistic
purposes (Rakhmani, 2013), the 2000–2005 period saw a steady increase in the
commodification of Islamic images. This occurred in parallel to the rise of
Islamic expression among middle-class Muslims. We argue that religious expres-
sion is adjusting to a new system that includes the particular characteristics of
television, its political discourses, market value, and media infrastructure (see De
Vries, 2001; Hirschkind, 2011). With established television production standards,
new strategies for efficiency and risk reduction are also practiced in the way Islam is
portrayed in television programs. This blatant commodification of the religious
triggered the Islamic zeal of a number of producers, who began to use television
programs as a means to propagate Islamic orthodoxy (da’wah).2 In an attempt to

Downloaded from gaz.sagepub.com at FRESNO PACIFIC UNIV on January 15, 2015

342 the International Communication Gazette 76(4–5)

reach specific markets/congregations, the production process of Islamic television

programs has required the cooperation of the producers and Islamic teachers
(ustad)3 to endorse/validate Islamic content. These new relationships and represen-
tations have resulted in an intermingling between Islam and television production
and content.

Overview of Islamic sinetron

Under the former authoritarian rule, TVRI mostly avoided incorporating overt
Islamic themes into its popular programming, opting instead to display tokenistic
religious plurality. This avoidance went on after the end of the regime, but with the
motive now shifting to avoidance of commercial risk. This risk avoidance is most
apparent in the highest-rated television format: the sinetron.4
The rise of Islamic themes in sinetron began in 2003 with the success of Rahasia
Ilahi (God’s Secret), a supernatural drama with gory representations of Islam.
Moderate Muslim figures and scholars saw these portrayals of supernatural occur-
rences as misleading (Darmawan and Armando, 2008; Subijanto, 2011). Despite
the criticism it received, Rahasia Ilahi launched a spate of prime time sinetron religi
(Islamic sinetron), and its commercial success encouraged producers to incorporate
Islamic themes in other shows.
The success of Rahasia Ilahi unleashed a torrent of similar supernatural dramas
across television stations. Meanwhile, the success of the Islamic film Ayat-ayat
Cinta (Verses of Love) sparked a trend in Islamic melodrama. Responding to
such commodification, prominent director, producer, actor, and devout Muslim
Deddy Mizwar set out to produce his own Islamic sinetron that portrayed everyday
Muslims in a comedic setting. This, he says, was his own form of da’wah. And, hot
on the heels of the supernatural drama and Islamic melodrama fads, Mizwar’s hit
Kiamat Sudah Dekat (The End of Nigh) also started its own trend.5
Before 2003, no TV station ventured to incorporate Islamic content into a
sinetron to avoid commercial risk, in particular owing to the exacerbated religious
sensitivities of the 1990s.6 The commercial success of Rahasia Ilahi (2003), Ayat-
ayat Cinta (2008), and Kiamat Sudah Dekat (2003) gave precedence for further
replication by television producers, leading to the ubiquity of Islamic sinetron on
virtually all major television stations. By 2010, 335 Islamic sinetron titles had been
aired on Indonesian television.
Between the 1990s and the year 2003, Indonesian sinetron was a variation on the
classic soap opera format. In early 2004, inspired by Malaysian magazine Hidayah,
a small production house called KEP Media initiated the phenomenon of Islamic
sinetron. The drama’s success baffled television producers with its juxtapositioning
of supernatural occurrences and Islamic rituals, two things that are usually thought
to be at odds with each other. Supernatural dramas portray two extreme poles of
good and evil (Nazaruddin, 2008: 26). Essentially, a supernatural drama follows a
formulaic story line in which sinners of all kinds (corrupt state officials, gamblers, a
misbehaving son, etc.) are condemned by God to a very painful death (burnt in

Downloaded from gaz.sagepub.com at FRESNO PACIFIC UNIV on January 15, 2015

Rakhmani 343

hell, consumed by flesh-eating worms, swallowed alive by the Earth, etc.)

(Taufiqurrahman, 2005).
The format of the second cluster of Islamic sinetron, Islamic melodrama, is
essentially very similar to conventional soap operas or popular melodramas. The
success of the film Ayat-Ayat Cinta (Verses of Love) in February 2008 inspired TV
producers to adapt its theme into the sinetron format (I. Kurniawan, 11 June 2011,
personal communication). To ensure commercial success, production house MD
Entertainment consulted with the Muslim organization Muhammadiyah to deter-
mine what was and was not permitted in an ‘Islamic film’ (‘Layar Ayat’, 2008). Not
only was the film commercially successful, it also received positive feedback from
state officials, moderate Muslim organizations, and scholars. The plot of an Islamic
melodrama is generally similar to that of the popular melodrama, revolving around
interpersonal relationships: friendly, familial, filial, or amorous. The difference lies
in the presence of Islamic symbols. Such symbols are everywhere: in the clothing of
the characters (headscarves for the females and baju koko—a Malayan-Chinese
shirt often symbolizing Islamic piety—for males), in the settings (mosque), in the
props (calligraphy), even in the way amorous relationships are resolved and legit-
imized through marriage.
Since the production houses that make Islamic melodramas also make popular
melodramas, their actors and actresses star in both types of shows, with or without
the headscarf and other Islamic fashion attributes. Such low-cost solutions have
invited criticism from Muslim audiences who claim that the actors and actresses are
not ‘Muslim’ enough, sometimes citing their personal lives that often feature in
television gossip shows. Amid such ‘misleading’ portrayals of Islam, Mizwar felt
that the content of Indonesian soap operas and film did not represent the social
reality of its majority Muslim population (D. Mizwar, 24 May 2011, personal
communication). He expressed his concerns that Islamic sinetron were condemna-
tory, extremely ‘black and white, and not educational’ (Amri and Syahid, 2010).
His concern was shared by colleagues in theatre and film, as well as a number of
prominent Islamic scholars. After consulting with well-respected Islamic scholars
from State Islamic University Jakarta (UIN—Universitas Islam Negeri Jakarta), he
decided to produce films and television series with religious substance that were
also high in production quality and entertainment value. In contrast to most pro-
duction houses that were established to answer the demands of television stations,
Citra Sinema was founded to produce Islamic propagation sinetron and films
(‘Lahir untuk Mengisi’, 2009).
Most of the sinetron produced by Citra Sinema reveal ‘the narrative of the strug-
gle (jihad) of a Muslim in defining his piousness based on his level of piety and
knowledge of Islam’ (Subijanto, 2009: 22), in which comedy is often used to nor-
malize dissonances. The characters in Mizwar’s sinetron often laugh at their own
ignorance, which is then remedied by learning more about Islamic piety through the
Quran and hadiths as well as from fellow Muslims. The storylines portray lower-
middle-class families and communities trying to survive on a limited income, street
hawkers, etc. Settings include urban villages, small alleys, shelters, etc.

Downloaded from gaz.sagepub.com at FRESNO PACIFIC UNIV on January 15, 2015

344 the International Communication Gazette 76(4–5)

Despite the different characteristics of each cluster, the sinetron industry’s pro-
duction processes make for several commonalities across clusters. However, the
motives behind each cluster of Islamic sinetron determine the Islamic values and
alliances that inform the production process. To understand the factors that influ-
ence the production process and their impact on content, we take a closer look at
three Islamic sinetron titles, one for each cluster: Hidayah (God’s Guidance),
Munajah Cinta (Surrender to Love), and Para Pencari Tuhan (God Seekers).

Producing popular piety

Both Hidayah and Munajah Cinta were produced to emulate the success of another
product. Hidayah was pitched by MD Entertainment in the hope of repeating the
success of Rahasia Ilahi, while Munajah Cinta was pitched by another large pro-
duction house, SinemArt, to replicate the commercial success of Ayat-ayat Cinta.
In comparison to this, Para Pencari Tuhan was produced as part of an attempt to
propagate Islam through the TV drama format. The first two commodify Islam to
attract Muslim audiences, while the third uses existing commercial entities for
da’wah purposes. This underlying difference determines the commonalities and
constraints between clusters.

Religious authority
During the production process of Hidayah, Munajah Cinta, and Para Pencari
Tuhan, Islamic teachers (ustad) were consulted with to validate the outcome.
The reasons for such consulting, however, were different. In the production of
Hidayah, MD Entertainment mostly sought to validate its Islamic content. Ustad
K.H. Acep Nurhasan was not a celebrity preacher and he was never used for any
other MD-produced television shows. Interviews revealed that the ustad’s valid-
ation was sought to avert public criticism over inaccurate representations of
religious practices because the production team was not confident about their
comprehension of Islamic rituals. He mainly made sure that things such as the
pronunciations of Arabic phrases, Quranic recitation, or Islamic funeral rituals
were correct. Hidayah director Katili claimed that the Islamic teacher was not
always present on set. When Nurhasan was unavailable, he consulted over the
phone and sometimes sent his assistant to the set. This suggests that the ustad’s
validation was comparable to proofreading, as he corrected form rather than
substance.
With Munajah Cinta the consultation provided was limited to viewing and
validating the first episode only. The ustads were those previously involved in
other SinemArt-produced television shows, with whom good contact had already
been established. There was no selection process or ideological consideration in
selecting them. ‘We worked with Neno Warisman7 on Pintu Hidayah. With reli-
gious sinetron, we needed an ustad or ustazah to set the limits within which we
could work (pakem-pakemnya sejauh mana). Ustad Mansyur was involved

Downloaded from gaz.sagepub.com at FRESNO PACIFIC UNIV on January 15, 2015

Rakhmani 345

with Maha Kasih’ (D. Suryani, 11 June 2011, personal communication). However,
unlike Hidayah, no ustad appeared in the credits of Munajah Cinta, and no ustad-
inspired content change was made.
In the production process of Para Pencari Tuhan, the role of the ustad was
substantial, comparable to that of a scholar. In contrast to Hidayah’s cursory
consultation by a single ustad or his assistant, and to Munajah Cinta’s three
ustad and ustazah who were only asked to validate the pilot, Para Pencari
Tuhan’s producers had no less than five Islamic scholars brought in to approve
every script. While on Hidayah and Munajah Cinta Islamic scholars were content
with ‘least objectionable’ situations (Klein, 1979), those involved in the production
of Para Pencari Tuhan verified the validity of Islamic interpretations in the light of
the Quran and hadiths. ‘They re-evaluated Para Pencari Tuhan’s religious sub-
stance. Generally Indonesians are Muslims. Particularly, while Muhammadiyah
Muslims might think something is valid, NU Muslims might think otherwise’
(W.H. Sudarmo, 19 May 2011, personal communication). Sudarmo was referring
to the two largest Muslim organizations in Indonesia, the liberal Muhammadiyah
and traditionalist NU (Nahdlatul Ulama), which are often at odds on Islamic rit-
uals. A classic case, which often provides fuel for casual jokes, is different Idul Fitri
dates (the two organizations use a different calendar in relation with the end of the
fasting month). Thus, the script was verified based on both sources as a conscious
choice to step away from the political divisions in society and return to authorita-
tive texts. Mizwar mentioned the book Al-Islam bila Mathahib or Islam without
Madhabs (Muslim school of law), arguing that Indonesian Muslims have become
too preoccupied with appearing more righteous than others instead of basing
behaviors on authoritative text (D. Mizwar, 24 May 2011, personal communica-
tion). For Mizwar, Islamic orthodoxy is a means to reunite fragmented Indonesian
Muslims.
Despite the differences in the way the ustads or scholars endorsed Islamic
sinetron, in all production processes they were seen as a figure of religious author-
ity. The endorsement of an ustad brings added value to a sinetron, whether as a
marketing strategy or to give it the authority of scholarly Islamic interpretation.
To a varying extent those involved in the production of Islamic sinetron—namely
television station programmers and the production houses—treat them as reli-
gious promotion. . The producers of Munajah Cinta adapted Islamic content—in
essence, polygamy—to market tastes. Hidayah enlisted the help of an ustad to
ensure ‘accuracy’ of Islamic rituals in order to avoid controversy, whereas the
Islamic scholars involved with Para Pencari Tuhan ensured accountable Islamic
propagation. The Hidayah and Munajah Cinta producers court the Muslim
market by avoiding inauthentic Islamic portrayals fraught with commercial
risk, while the Para Pencari Tuhan producers focus on family viewers in the
hope of drip-feeding Islamic teachings into their daily lives. While motivated
by different factors, the various producers all approach Islamic sinetron as a
balancing act between commercial interests and conformity with Islamic
teachings.

Downloaded from gaz.sagepub.com at FRESNO PACIFIC UNIV on January 15, 2015

346 the International Communication Gazette 76(4–5)

Risk avoidance
A second shared commonality of the three Islamic sinetron is the producers’ deci-
sion to self-censor to some extent. Although the government does regulate TV
content, none of the producers referred to this when explaining why they skirted
sensitive issues. ‘Our government is still feudalistic, conservative in terms of [con-
tent], which is expected to provide ‘‘good’’ lessons. Lessons are both good and bad.
But our government, our censorship body, is not like that’ (I. Kurniawan, 11 June
2011, personal communication). Kurniawan alludes to Philip Kitley’s description
of ‘the audience as childlike’ (2000: 83) and therefore needing guidance. In contrast,
Kurniawan posited the ‘audience as market’ (Kitley, 2000: 94).
The positioning of the audience as market determines which issues are too sen-
sitive to be represented in Islamic sinetron. These include issues related to ’SARA8
or those that are much too ‘‘confrontative’’ (memojokkan) of a religious group’
(D. Rusmana, 23 June 2011, personal communication). The producers’ view of the
audience as market guides the production of each sinetron in different ways. With
Hidayah, the producers avoided overtly sensitive issues to make sure it was unob-
jectionable. In preproduction, an ustad’s approval was the first safeguard.
However, in some cases, the director might ‘stray too far’ (nyeleneh) which then
required censoring in the editing process (D. Rusmana, 23 June 2011, personal
communication). Such postproduction content control suggests that this risk
aversion manifests itself through several levels (Barkin, 2004; Shoemaker and
Reese, 1996).
The production of Munajah Cinta was also guided by commercial interest. While
Hidayah eschewed SARA issues altogether, Munajah Cinta had to find ways
around depicting sexuality.

There was a scene about marital relations but we had to show it visually to the
audience. Beforehand, we discussed how we should represent it. We finally decided
to set the characters on a bed, with the help of camera tricks. We moved the angle
away. People would understand, so we wouldn’t need to picture it explicitly.
(B. Hutabarat, interview, 10 May 2011).

Like most Islamic melodramas Munajah Cinta has characteristics in common with
popular melodrama, but its Islamic packaging limited permissible male–female
physical contact. ‘We shouldn’t violate existing norms, particularly since this is
related to religion. It’s a public show with norms. Morality needs to be upheld
because it’s related to religion. [How] to remain attractive without stirring conflicts
(pro kontra)’ (B. Hutabarat, interview, 10 May 2011). What is allowed in popular
melodrama, such as hugging or holding hands, had to be displayed with more
restraint in Islamic sinetron (D. Suryani, 11 June 2011, personal communication).
In contrast to the Hidayah and Munajah Cinta producers’ view of the audience
as market, the producers of Para Pencari Tuhan had a more pedagogical approach:
the audience as pupils. Suspecting that audiences might take at face value whatever

Downloaded from gaz.sagepub.com at FRESNO PACIFIC UNIV on January 15, 2015

Rakhmani 347

they heard on TV, scriptwriter Sudarmo argued that producing Islamic sinetron
required content checking by Islamic scholars.

If you want to write about politics, you would have to understand [politics]. I learned
Islam through reading the Quran here and there. In writing, I’m not an expert. That’s
why Para Pencari Tuhan has high-quality content, because I am not the sole writer.
I am not an Islamic scholar. I am supported by a team of qualified Islamic scholars
who were hired because of their knowledge. (W.H. Sudarmo, 19 May 2011, personal
communication)

While Hidayah and Munajah Cinta avoided commercial risks with the routine
media practice of token endorsements, Para Pencari Tuhan production averted
the risk of Islamic misinterpretation through organizational practice of embedding
Islamic scholars in scripts preapproval mechanisms.
Although previous observers of Indonesia’s sinetron industry have argued that
its prime motive was to make money (Barkin, 2004; Ida, 2006), we see that with
Islamic sinetron it is not always the case. The religious packaging allows some
leeway between Islamic orthodoxy and commercial interests. For instance, one
strategy the Citra Sinema producers used to maintain both profitability and
Islamic validity was product placement: sponsor’s products (e.g., herbal medicine,
motor oil, household goods) were given pride of place in the plots. Sudarmo said
that they wrote their scripts around hadiths which lent themselves to product
placement. He illustrated this with a first season episode in which an ustad
turned down a cash payment after a sermon because a hadith forbade taking
money in such circumstances.

An ustad can receive pay, but he cannot set a fee. So usually when we invite an ustad,
we’d say ‘Here you go, ustad. Not much, but enough to buy toothpaste’. Ustad Ferry,
an ustad with integrity, discusses with his wife whether he really should buy toothpaste
with the money he had received. Trying to be amanah (trustworthy), he buys one
million Rupiah’s [USD110] worth of toothpaste and distributes the stuff throughout
the village. Enzim toothpaste was the sponsor. (W.S. Sudarmo, 19 May 2011, personal
communication).

Sudarmo’s testimony suggests that the script was developed by critically re-con-
textualizing a Hadith to accommodate income from the sponsor. Ironically
enough, the episode contradicts its hadith inspiration inasmuch as it unwittingly
sets a fee for the sermon. Thus, while positioning themselves as critical of the
blatant commodification of Islam, Para Pencari Tuhan’s producers failed to prac-
tice the Hadith they preached. We would argue that despite the da’wah intention,
Mizwar’s sinetron are more akin to supernatural drama and Islamic melodrama
than is perceived. All three production houses resorted to further mechanisms
intended to ensure efficiency in producing Islamic sinetron—namely
hiring Islamic teachers to avoid risks. Despite the various normative motivations,

Downloaded from gaz.sagepub.com at FRESNO PACIFIC UNIV on January 15, 2015

348 the International Communication Gazette 76(4–5)

this shows that the media economy guides the production processes of Islamic
sinetron.

The politics of piety

Media texts can reveal competition of meaning among groups, or the ‘politics of
representation’ (Barker, 2003). Based on this assumption, we studied 37 Hidayah
episodes, 92 Munajah Cinta episodes, and 30 Para Pencari Tuhan episodes to
understand how authority is maintained and challenged. In this section we examine
the ‘struggle for power, between those who seek to assert and maintain their power
and those who seek to resist it’ (Chilton and Schaffner, 2002: 5) within each Islamic
sinetron by also being mindful of how they were produced.

Divine intervention
Based on our viewing of Hidayah episodes, the series seems to revolve around the
personal experiences of Muslims set as binary, good vs. evil situations. All of the pro-
tagonists are tested by economic problems, either successfully returning to the right-
eous path or finally driven to their doom at the end of the episode. Economic
issues are portrayed through relationships between social classes, with unfair treat-
ment at the hands of other Muslims resolved through divine intervention.
At the end of each episode, characters who dared defy religious authority embo-
died in ustad, husbands, mothers, etc. are stricken by God with mysterious, incur-
able diseases or sudden death. This celebration of authority centers on the family as
a religiously legitimate social institution, as well as on interclass relationships. In
the case of family, marital relationships are patriarchal and filial relationships are
matriarchal. In marriage, a husband rules his wife, and by defying her husband, a
wife is defying God. In the case of filial relationships, a child that offends his/her
mother defies God, as suggested by the hadith that says ‘Heaven lies under
mother’s feet’ (Surga di bawah telapak kaki ibu). Quoting a hadith gives religious
authority to these figures, legitimizing their power. However, regardless of the
nature of the conflict, the trigger for such defiance is often financial. The financial
autonomy gained by a wife or daughter allows her to defy religious authority. This
defiance is quickly thwarted by an authoritative figure regaining his/her power
through supernatural occurrences.
Those mothers and husbands who lose authority over their children and wives
are comparable to the many oppressed, lower-middle-class Muslims portrayed in
TV dramas—the ‘poor.’ Such characters are all similar in that they are devout
Muslims trying to stay on the righteous path. They finally get the justice they
deserve through divine intervention—which suggests it could not happen any
other way. When authoritative figures lose their power or the poor are abused
by socioeconomic power, most often by members of the upper-middle class, it is
a result of some disorder in the social structure, and to restore this order, divine
intervention is necessary.

Downloaded from gaz.sagepub.com at FRESNO PACIFIC UNIV on January 15, 2015

Rakhmani 349

In this regard, Hidayah shows that official and/or state institutions are helpless
in assisting the poor. In one episode, a company’s struggles to preserve employee
benefits are presented in the context of gasoline subsidy cuts which came into effect
on 1 October 2005. In other episodes, hospitals are portrayed as lacking compas-
sion toward patients who are unable to pay their medical bills, causing more suf-
fering in their lives. In a system that does not side with the poor, divine intervention
comes to the rescue of protagonists suffering abuse and neglect at the hands of
unscrupulous, powerful people. A general distrust toward formal institutions drives
the main characters to find solutions to their problems. The root cause of such
problems, as in the case of family conflicts, is lack of financial autonomy or ‘pov-
erty,’ which positions the protagonists as oppressed. Antagonistic characters con-
sult healers (dukun) and protagonists consult ustad. Caught between the former and
the latter, doctors and law enforcers have limited power to solve the problem.
Dukun and ustad are polarized in Hidayah as evil and good, respectively. Such a
polarization was invented by the film industry in the Suharto years to avoid cen-
sorship (Van Heeren, 2007: 219). Interviews with Hidayah producers also suggest
that the presence of ustad in the storylines owes much to commercial risk avoidance
concerns. In other words, while textual constraints remain—what may and what
may not be represented in the realm of the supernatural—they are now reacting to
changes in ideological pressure.
Likewise, there is never an open battle between dukun and ustad. Instead, the
battle between good and evil occurs between the main characters and their social
surroundings. The dukun’s black magic is considered shirk (idolatry) or polytheism
or bid’ah (heresy) by liberal Indonesian Muslims (Mujani, 2003: 99; Mundayat,
2005), but in Hidayah, black magic is a response to institutional failures. This
suggests that the role of the dukun relates to the moral panic sparked by fears
that these institutions are ‘threats towards a functioning social system’
(Ferzacca, 2001: 223). The ustad, for instance, advises a protagonist to seek the
advice of doctors, and if unsuccessful, to surrender to God. When this does not
work, the protagonist goes to a dukun. The strained relationship between modern
Islamic practice and old, ‘traditional’ ways is stabilized by a fictitious power that
supersedes both ustad and dukun and is limited to the protagonists’ individual and
private religious experience.
The show, and many others like it, received praise from the highly conservative
Hizbut Tahrir Indonesia (HTI) Muslim group. The group called the show is ‘a
breath of fresh air’ compared to other sinetron. In fact, the good–evil polarization
and unreal or improbable resolutions in Hidayah storylines are not novel sinetron
devices. By resorting to such improbable solutions to the poor’s plight and decay-
ing social authority, the drama posits religion as the only means of salvation or
escape. This notion is in line with senior television program director Harsiwi
Achmad’s explanation of Nielsen’s9 class C audience (lower-middle class) and
‘escapist’ content. While popular melodramas target lower-middle-class audiences
thought to escape reality by losing themselves in the lives of fictitious upper-
middle-class characters (see Rakhmani, forthcoming 2014), Hidayah offers up

Downloaded from gaz.sagepub.com at FRESNO PACIFIC UNIV on January 15, 2015

350 the International Communication Gazette 76(4–5)

religious content through divine intervention as remedy to the social injustice its
producers perceive to be part of the identity of their target audience. While nar-
ratively similar, supernatural dramas mainly differ from those sinetron that do not
find favor with HTI in their obvious references to Islam.

Islamic piety
There are two major recurring themes in Munajah Cinta episodes. First, in various
subplots, Islamic piety is often contrasted with a hedonistic lifestyle. In one scene,
for instance, Muslims of both sexes have just returned from their umrah, or minor
hajj (the lesser pilgrimage to Mecca). They are shocked to find that a karaoke bar
and massage parlor has opened in front of the travel agency of main male protag-
onist Attar. The ensuing conversation between the pilgrims centers on the tainting
of their great religious endeavor by their choice of a travel agent whose neighbors
operate such shady businesses (commonly associated with illegal sexual practices).
In response to his customer’s protests, Attar asks the neighboring business’s
owner to take down a provocative poster of a woman. Owner and main male
antagonist Bakrie declines to do so and tells Attar that if he disapproves, he
might want to move his travel agency to ‘Arabia.’ This scene and many others
like it play on the frictions between Islamic piety and social practices that are
permitted in Jakarta (although illegal). The dispute cannot be resolved and the
karaoke bar becomes a recurring trigger for tensions between piety and ‘hedonism.’
The characters try to maintain the purity of their Islamic experience and as a result,
their piety is challenged by politics and money. The pious characters thus pray to
God to help them in this test, and their problem is resolved through acceptance
(‘This must be Allah’s grace’).
The second recurring theme in Munajah Cinta often plays on the degrees of piety
between ustads. In one episode a kyai that is Attar’s mentor has an argument with
an anonymous ustad. Attar visits Maemunah, one of his two love interests, in her
modest apartment (kost). Having had coffee accidentally spilt on him, he takes off
some of his clothes, which leads nosey neighbors to think he is having an extra-
marital affair (zina). The couple is dragged to the police station on charges of
adultery. They are imprisoned and interrogated. The witnesses and an anonymous
ustad who recited a relevant hadith are interrogated as well.
The ustad claims that Islam prohibits a man and a woman from sharing a room
unless they are married or muhrim,10 further incriminating the couple. The police
diligently type all statements made by the suspects, the witnesses, and the ustad.
The kyai arrives and talks to the main protagonist, without giving him a straight
answer, only quoting ambiguous verses from the Quran. On reflection, Attar deci-
des to take his female friend as his second wife, provided his first one does not
object. The charges are instantly dropped and the couple is released from prison.
The anonymous ustad is portrayed as a stereotypical, black-and-white religious
zealot, whereas the kyai (a Javanese term for ‘Islamic teacher,’ in common use
among traditionalist Muslims) is portrayed as a spiritual leader who helps the

Downloaded from gaz.sagepub.com at FRESNO PACIFIC UNIV on January 15, 2015

Rakhmani 351

Figure 1. Different apparels on ustad to symbolize the degree of piety.

main protagonist find his own way of practicing religion. This difference is symbo-
lized in their attributes. The anonymous ustad wears Indonesian clothing (peci and
baju koko), and the kyai wears a turban, a scarf, and a gamis (Middle Eastern men’s
shirt) down to his knees (see Figure 1).
Such ‘Middle-Eastern’ references are often related to a character’s degree of
piety. It is not only the kyai’s apparel that symbolizes his Islamic authority over
the ‘local’ ustad, but praying scenes are often accompanied by Middle-Eastern
music. Such songs never accompany the praying scenes of characters with lower
degree of piety.
In the above-mentioned episode, the police detain a couple suspected of adultery
until all testimonies have been checked, including those of the anonymous ustad
who was there to testify as an expert. This conflict is resolved when Attar
announces his intention to marry Maemunah and the police release them. In
effect, the storyline turns the policemen into enforcers of Islamic tenets: they pro-
cess the case as if it were an offence punishable by law. Although Indonesian law
does not prohibit extramarital relations, the plot has policemen enforce Sharia on
the two characters as a device to legitimize their romantic relationship. In this
episode of Munajah Cinta, State officials are shown as subordinate to religious
authority.
At a glance, this may seem like puritanism, reminiscent of Saudi Arabia-based
Wahabism (Hadiz and Teik, 2011). However, the goal of Munajah Cinta’s produ-
cers was to replicate the commercial success of Ayat-ayat Cinta, a film set in Cairo,
Egypt. One may therefore see the uncritical adoption of ‘Middle-Eastern’ values
less as a portrayal of ‘puritanism’ and more as the commodification of ‘Middle
Eastern’ cultural attributes. The sinetron producers we interviewed claimed that
Munajah Cinta was meant to portray a ‘pure, peaceful’ brand of Islam and to
highlight the ‘sincerity’ of female Muslims in polygamous marriages, along the
lines of the classic love triangle of popular melodramas (I. Kurniawan, 11 June
2011, personal communication). Such ‘purity’ is embodied through idealized,

Downloaded from gaz.sagepub.com at FRESNO PACIFIC UNIV on January 15, 2015

352 the International Communication Gazette 76(4–5)

‘Middle Eastern’ religious rules. The degree of piety portrayed in Islamic melo-
dramas does not reflect Islamic ideology so much as the producers’ ideas of what
may attract those pious, middle-class, upwardly mobile Muslim audiences who
have been loyal popular melodrama viewers.

Political criticism through Islamic views

Islamic tenets as remedy to poverty and/or social injustice—such is the general tone
of Para Pencari Tuhan. The focus in this section is how collective identity asso-
ciated with Islam becomes a means to challenge the purportedly essentialist
assumption that religious authority is only in the hands of the learned ustad.
Centering on the everyday lives of the residents of a small urban village, this
show is often used as a vehicle for criticism on two major issues. The first issue
is the economy, usually in the form of the villagers’ struggle against poverty. A
particular scene portrays the main protagonist, bang11 Jack, who is concerned that
fewer and fewer people come to At-Taufik, the show’s central, but small, mosque.
This reinforces the larger context of Para Pencari Tuhan: criticism of a decrease in
collective religious practice caused by an economic downturn. As an illustration,
here is a scene where the main characters are waiting at the mosque for more people
to join in prayer (shalat berjamaah). Bang Jack asks several passers-by to join them,
but is rebuffed as they are all headed to work.

Bang Jack: People used to not visit our mosque because they were trying to save
their families from poverty.
Barong: And now?
Bang Jack: Now they’re still not visiting our mosque, because they’re trying to save
their jobs.

The second issue is related to everyday politics. Islamic tenets are usually invoked
to challenge unquestioned traditions practiced in the village. In one episode, for
instance, the villagers tell the richest man in the village, pak12 Jalal, that they want
to celebrate his birthday, in the hope of getting free entertainment on his dime. Pak
Jalal’s niece Kalila reminds everyone that the Prophet and his companions did not
have birthday celebrations. Therefore, if there should be an event funded by pak
Jalal, it should serve to strengthen the bonds between everyone in the village.
Before pak Jalal agrees on a carambole competition, he wants to have a pole
climbing competition, usually performed on Indonesia’s Independence Day.

Bang Jack: Yes, but why do we have to have a pole climbing competition, pak
Jalal?
Pak Jalal: What’s wrong with a pole climbing competition?
Bang Jack: Pole climbing is a tradition inherited from the Dutch when they
colonized us, pak Jalal.
Pak Jalal: Wow, that’s cool!

Downloaded from gaz.sagepub.com at FRESNO PACIFIC UNIV on January 15, 2015

Rakhmani 353

Bang Jack: Not really. Natives were instructed to compete against each other,
through pole climbing, to win prizes of clothes, cheese, sugar, coffee, etc., while the
Dutch watched, laughed, and drank tea, looking at natives scrambling to outdo
one another to win clothes and food.
Pak Jalal: Really? But it has since become our tradition.
Bang Jack: Pak Jalal, our society’s traditions also needs correcting. For me, the
pole climbing tradition can only degrade our nation’s pride by perpetuating a
colonizer’s game.
Pak Jalal finally tells the committee that no matter what they suggest, the event
should not include a pole climbing competition. This scene clearly shows that Para
Pencari Tuhan is used to tell audiences that several traditions need to be questioned
and that their current practices have roots in history. Here, pak Jalal listens to the
religious advice of bang Jack, a man from a lower socioeconomic class. The episode
about pak Jalal’s birthday introduced the issue of dominance and national pride,
with Islamic teachings becoming a means to challenge otherwise unquestioned
traditions.

Similar social criticism is also apparent in another episode, where several villagers
come to the mosque to pray together. Upon arriving, they are confused about
whether to join in the congregational prayer: there is usually only one such
prayer going on in a mosque at any given time, with latecomers joining in as
they arrive. Here, however different groups are praying separately (see Figure 2).

Figure 2. Simultaneous congregational prayers in Para Pencari Tuhan.

Downloaded from gaz.sagepub.com at FRESNO PACIFIC UNIV on January 15, 2015

354 the International Communication Gazette 76(4–5)

Responding to the unusual situation, one of villagers says that maybe there are
different prayers because each group follows a different schools of thought: one
may be hardline (garis keras) and the other one more progressive (garis lembut). To
avoid confusion, the newcomers join neither group and conduct their own prayer,
stating that they would rather not be led in confusion ‘thus we should create our
own [political] party that accommodates our aspiration.’ This implies that their
religious ritual is comparable to religious–political affiliation. Finally, while the
three congregational prayers are being held simultaneously in the mosque, the
main characters chat in dumbfounded disbelief:

Bang Jack: This is just like our people (umat), we have too many political parties.
The more flags we have, the less power each party possesses. Like bubbles in the
sea, abundant but without force.
Azzam: Let’s do our preprayer washing. Then we can start our own political party.
Bang Jack: No, we shouldn’t imitate them. This is an example of people conduct-
ing rituals without understanding why. We’ll wait until they finish.

The multiple congregational prayer scene alludes to the dealignment (dealirani-

sasi) of Islamic political parties after Suharto stepped down (Tomsa, 2010; Ufen,
2006). The scene shows the villagers choosing to have their own congregational
prayer rather than unwittingly following another prayer. An anonymous villager
says that having their own authentic congregation is like having ‘a party that
accommodates our aspiration.’ Bang Jack echoes the reference toward political
parties. He states that political dealignment is what makes the umat or ummah
(Islamic community) weak: because Muslims are fragmented into small, powerless
groups. The scene occurs at the end of the episode, leaving the issue open-ended.
The panjat pinang scene indicates that a dominant group may tear people apart
by pitting them against one another. Such fragmentation is depicted negatively
in the above episode, with Islamic views being used to further the notion of
Muslim unity.
In both scenes Islamic views elucidate the ambiguity of everyday ethical prob-
lems that manifest themselves through Muslim politics. Despite the nontrivial
issues, the humor blanketing social criticism helped the show become unobjection-
able. Para Pencari Tuhan airs on SCTV (Surya Citra Televisi). Programming
Director Harsiwi Achmad says that Mizwar’s sinetron has been popular because
its lower-class setting appeals to lower-middle and middle-class audiences while its
realistic narratives appeal to upper-middle-class viewers, with its comedic packa-
ging appealing to all three categories. This is a new strategy of television stations
intent on widening their audiences. Therefore, while Para Pencari Tuhan’s produc-
tion process and content show this sinetron is intended for da’wah, it appeals to a
market that transcends the Nielsen audience class that is not apparent in the first
two clusters that were produced to repeat commercial successes. Citra Sinema
adopted new creative strategies that followed the commercial logic of the sinetron
industry while enlisting Islamic scholars to validate Islamic representations.

Downloaded from gaz.sagepub.com at FRESNO PACIFIC UNIV on January 15, 2015

Rakhmani 355

The negotiations between re-contextualizing Islamic texts and remaining sellable

suggest that the da’wah agency is working through the commercial space of
television.

Concluding remarks: What brand of ‘Islam’ on Indonesian

television?
This article studied the connections between the commerce of Islam and its expres-
sion in order to understand how religion, morality, authority, values, and ideology
are recoding themselves in a system that involves market values and media infra-
structure. The main findings draw a complex picture that challenges uncritical
assumptions as to how the television industry may have commodified religious
symbols in Indonesia. By looking at sinetron production processes and represen-
tations of Islam, we can argue on two levels that what is actually occurring is a
commercialization of da’wah.
Firstly, in their early stages Islamic sinetron were meant to emulate the commer-
cial success of other films or television series. Ustads were brought in to avoid
commercial risks by ensuring that representations adhered to dominant
Indonesian Islamic practices. As a result, the Islamic practices, symbols, and rituals
portrayed are identified with previously monitored audience class types, thus con-
structing an Islamic identity that speaks to middle-class Muslims as stereotyped—
and validly so, based on ratings—by the television industry.
Such ‘safe’ portrayals were thought to ‘cheapen’ Islam, thus prompting the
agency of Muslim producers. By consulting with Islamic scholars to check
conformity with the Quran and hadiths, they brought their sinetron into the
realm of Islamic propagation, or da’wah. The irony is that such da’wah
agents unwittingly commercialized their calling by ‘setting a fee for their
sermons.’
On a second level, various ideological motivations resulted in particular narra-
tives within Islamic sinetron. In supernatural dramas divine intervention saves
oppressed lower-middle-class Muslims from the failures of social institutions,
while Islamic melodramas coddle upwardly mobile, middle-class Muslims weary
of half-baked Islamic rituals with representations of an imaginary, ‘pure and peace-
ful’ Islam fraught with ‘Middle Eastern’ values. The sinetron produced by da’wah
agents criticizes the fragmentation of the ummah and appeal for unity. Despite
these different dominant narratives, all three sinetron offered up a version of
Islamic teachings in response to the perceived social concerns of their middle-
class Muslim target audiences.
Based on these findings one may argue that what is currently occurring is a
commercialization of da’wah through the televised delivery of ‘sermons’ to a
Muslim audience. In Indonesia today, television has become a space for preaching:
sinetron as sermon, audiences as congregation. And commercialization—or the
creation of a relationship between advertising and audience—is the ‘new system’
within which da’wah works.

Downloaded from gaz.sagepub.com at FRESNO PACIFIC UNIV on January 15, 2015

356 the International Communication Gazette 76(4–5)

This raises the question: what kind of ‘Islam’ is it that we have on Indonesian
television today? We would argue that owing to risk avoidance and audience
targeting, the social divisions between Muslim groups in Indonesia (e.g., tradition-
alists, liberals, conservatives) become blurred in Islamic sinetron. Validated by
both ratings and advertising, such portrayals take on a life of their own. In
other words, such televised images of Islam are not an accurate reflection of religi-
osity in Indonesia today. What they are is a construct—an artificial, ‘Indonesian’
Islam born of the intersection of market capitalism and Islamic propagation.

Funding
This research formed a small part of the author’s PhD thesis, for which she received a
scholarship from the Australian Government through the Australian Leadership Awards
(ALA).

Notes
1. We explain the commodification of Islam, or the shift from use value to exchange value
(Mosco, 2009: 129) that is often inaccurately interchanged with commercialization, or
the creation of a relationship between audience and advertiser (Mosco, 2009: 132).
2. We use the term ‘orthodox Islam’ in reference to the position that holds the Quran and
hadiths as the two primary sources of Islamic teachings (see Kamali, 2003).
3. In an Indonesian context, ustad and ustazah for women refer to Muslim clerics, priests,
teachers, or leaders (in a scholarly context, they are often called ulama). Such terms are
comparable to the words kyai (Javanese) and buya (Minang). The term ustad has
become more mainstream with the growing popularity of ‘celebrity preachers.’
4. A portmanteau of sinema (cinema) and elektronik (electronic), the term sinetron usually
applies to soap opera style, primetime drama (Barkin, 2004: 56). On average, audiences
spend 26% of their viewing time on sinetron, the most popular of all program types
(Nugroho et al., 2012: 52). Although Islamic themes in television programs can be traced
back to the 1960s (see Rakhmani, 2013), the portrayal of daily Islamic practices in a
context which viewers can easily relate to has been especially intensive in Islamic-themed
sinetron.
5. The success of Mizwar’s Islamic sinetron initiated a trend producers dubbed ‘religious
comedy’ (komedi religi), examples of which are Islam KTP (2010) and Pesantren Rock
and Roll (2011), both aired on SCTV. While they adopted the same comedic approach as
Mizwar’s, these two sinetrons had different ideological motivations (see Rakhmani, 2014
forthcoming).
6. A case in point is the outrage expressed by Surabaya audiences when Canadian program
Wok with Yan demonstrated a recipe with pork fat as one of its ingredients at the
beginning of Ramadan (Kitley, 2000: 102).
7. Neno Warisman is a former 1980s singer who became popular in the mid-1990s as a
prominent female ustad, often appearing on television.
8. SARA or Suku (Ethnicity), Agama (Religion), Ras (Race), and Antar-Golongan (Inter-
group)—a commonly used acronym in the Suharto years in reference to potential social
unrest caused by friction between groups.

Downloaded from gaz.sagepub.com at FRESNO PACIFIC UNIV on January 15, 2015

Rakhmani 357

9. Here, Nielsen refers to AGB Nielsen Media Research, the sole rating body monitoring
television audience in Indonesia.
10. In the Quran, muhrim refers to persons of the opposite sex one is not allowed to marry,
such as siblings, maternal cousins, etc. In practice, however, the word has a transitional
meaning for urban middle-class Muslim Indonesians: persons of the opposite sex one
may not have intimate contact with (bukan muhrim).
11. The function of the Bang character is to inspire respect and endearment. Bang (short
for Abang) is a term that designates an older male in Betawi culture, the largest ethnic
group ‘indigenous’ to Jakarta. It is mostly used to address an older brother or a
husband by his wife.
12. Pak is short for Bapak comparable to ‘Sir.’

References
About Mizan (2007) Mizan Available at: http://www.mizan.com/v2/index.
php?fuseaction¼about_us_english.
Amri BA and Syahid L (2010) Deddy Mizwar: Awasi Program Sahur TV. VIVAnews.
Available at: http://nasional.vivanews.com/news/read/170474-deddy-mizwar-minta-mui-
awasi-program-sahur.
Barker C (2003) Cultural Studies: Theory and Practice. London: SAGE Publications.
Barkin G (2004) Producing Indonesia: The derivation and domestication of commercial tele-
vision. St. Louis: Washington University, Unpublished PhD dissertation.
Chilton P and Schaffner C (2002) Introduction: Themes and principles in the analysis of
political discourse. In: Chilton P and Schaffner C (eds) Politics as Text and Talk: Analytic
Approaches to Political Discourse. Amsterdam: John Benjamins Publishing Company,
pp. 1–41.
Darmawan H and Armando A (2008) Budaya Pop Islam: Islam 15 Menit. Madina I(7): 22.
Derrida J (2002) Acts of Religion. New York: Routledge.
de Vries H (2001) In media res: Global religion, public spheres, and the task of contempor-
ary comparative religious studies. In: de Vries H and Weber S (eds) Media and Religion.
Redwood City, CA: Stanford University Press, pp. 3–42.
Fealy G and White W (2008) Expressing Islam: Religious Life and Politics in Indonesia.
Singapore: Institute of Southeast Asian Studies.
Ferzacca S (2001) Healing the Modern in a Central Javanese City. Durham, NC: Carolina
Academic Press.
Hadiz VR and Teik KB (2011) Approaching Islam and politics from political economy:
A comparative study of Indonesia and Malaysia. The Pacific Review 24: 463–485.
Hirschkind C (2011) Media, mediation, religion. Social Anthropology 19: 90–97.
Ida R (2006) Watching Indonesian Sinetron: Imagining communities around the television.
Perth: Curtin University of Technology, Unpublished PhD dissertation.
Inflasi 12 Persen, Status Sosial Naik (2008) Kompas.com. Avalable at: http://www1.kompas.
com/lipsus112009/kpkread/2008/04/22/13501733/inflasi.12.persen.status.sosial.ekonomi.
naik.
Kamali MK (2003) Principles of Islamic Jurisprudence. Cambridge, UK: Islamic Texts
Society.
Kitley P (2000) Television, Nation and Culture in Indonesia. Ohio: Ohio University Center for
International Studies.

Downloaded from gaz.sagepub.com at FRESNO PACIFIC UNIV on January 15, 2015

358 the International Communication Gazette 76(4–5)

Klein P (1979) Programming. In: Klein P and Morgensten S (eds) Inside the TV Business.
New York: Sterling, pp. 11–36.
Lahir untuk Mengisi Kehampaan Batin (2009) Citra Sinema. Available at: http://www.
citrasinema.com/index.php?option¼com_content&view¼category&l ayout¼blog&id¼
51&Itemid¼206.
Layar Ayat (2008) Madina I (17).
Mosco V (2009) The Political Economy of Communication. London: SAGE.
Mujani S (2003) Religious Democrats: Democratic Culture and Muslim Political Participation
in Post-Suharto Indonesia. Columbus: Ohio State University, Unpublished PhD
dissertation.
Mundayat AA (2005) Ritual and Politics in New Order Indonesia: A Study of Discourse and
Counter-Discourse in Indonesia. Melbourne: Swinburne University of Technology,
Unpublished PhD dissertation.
Nazaruddin M (2008) Islam Representation in Religious Electronic Cinemas in Indonesia.
University of Manchester and the University of Surrey, Symposium. Manchester and
Surrey.
Nugroho Y, Putri DA and Laksmi S (2012) Mapping the landscape of the media industry in
contemporary Indonesia. Jakarta: CIPG & HIVOS, Report Series. Engaging Media,
Empowering Society: Assessing Media Policy and Governance in Indonesia through
the Lens of Citizens’ Rights.
Rakhmani I (2013) Regime and representation: Islam and Indonesian television (1962 to
1998). RIMA: Review of Indonesian and Malaysian Affairs 47: 61–68.
Rakhmani I (2014) Mainstream Islam: Television industry practice and trends in Indonesian
sinetron. Asian Journal of Social Science.
Sen K and Hill DT (2000) Media, Culture and Politics in Indonesia. Melbourne: Oxford
University Press.
Shoemaker PJ and Reese SD (1996) Mediating the Message: Theories of Influences on Mass
Media Content. New York: Longman.
Subijanto R (2009) Producing a religious TV series: The making of popular piety culture in
Indonesia. New York: New York University, Unpublished master’s thesis.
Subijanto R (2011) The visibility of a pious public. Inter-Asia Cultural Studies 12:
240–253.
Taufiqurrahman M (2005, July 16) Indonesia: Be good – God is on television. The
Jakarta Post. Available at: http://www.international.ucla.edu/article.asp?
parentid¼26857.
Tomsa D (2010) The Indonesian party system after the 2009 elections: Toward stability?
In: Mietzner M and Aspinall E (eds) Problems of Democratisation in Indonesia: Elections,
Institutions and Society. Singapore: ISEAS Publishing, pp. 141–159.
Tsing A (2001) Inside the economy of appearances. In: Appadurai A (ed.) Globalization.
Durham: Duke University Press, pp. 155–188.
Ufen A (2006) Political Parties in Post-Suharto Indonesia: Between Politik Aliran and
‘Philippinisation.’ GIGA working paper no. 37. Available at: http://ssrn.com/
abstract¼977982.
van Bruinessen M (2011) What Happened to the Smiling Face of Indonesian Islam?: Muslim
intellectualism and the conservative turn in post-Suharto Indonesia. RSIS working paper
No. 222. Available at: http://dr.ntu.edu.sg/handle/10220/7533.

Downloaded from gaz.sagepub.com at FRESNO PACIFIC UNIV on January 15, 2015

Rakhmani 359

van Bruinessen M (2013) Contemporary Developments in Indonesian Islam: Explaining the

Conservative Turn. Singapore: Institute for Southeast Asian Studies.
van Heeren K (2007) Return of the Kyai: Representations of horror, commerce, and cen-
sorship in Post-Suharto Indonesian film and television. Inter-Asia Cultural Studies 8:
211–226.

Downloaded from gaz.sagepub.com at FRESNO PACIFIC UNIV on January 15, 2015