Ritual purification ceremonies have dominated Balinese recovery efforts
Graeme MacRae
Most
Balinese of my acquaintance, a few urban intellectuals aside, have
until recently believed deeply in a view of their island as a haven of
unique peace and tranquility in a world apparently racked by disorder,
conflict and violence. Much of this, in their view, is caused by
(non-Hindu) religion and/or lack of religion altogether. Their own
uniquely privileged position they see as blessings bestowed on them by
the gods of Bali, which are in turn a result of their own unique
devotion to the correct forms of ritual. This belief in ritual
causation is perhaps related to their distrust of human political
endeavour, and this distrust has emerged in locals' recovery efforts in
a post-bomb Bali. These efforts have focussed on restoring spiritual
balance through ritual purification ceremonies, which reinforce an
inherently apolitical Balinese self-image.
Collective amnesia
Bali
has a long history of political conflict and violence. Understandably,
older generations of Balinese, whose early lives were lived in frequent
fear and real danger, prefer not to remember too much of this history.
But the present generation - those born since about 1960 - know little
of it, and subscribe to a sanitised, secondhand version of their own
culture and history, in which 'politics' (politik) is a dirty
word. What they know as 'Balinese culture' is built on images of the
island as a place apart from the troubles of the world, a place of
natural beauty, artistic creativity, spectacular dance and ritual
performance. These images have roots in political expediencies of the
Dutch colonial state in the aftermath of their bloody invasion of Bali
a century ago, and have flourished and developed in close symbiotic
relationship with the world tourism industry since. Contemporary
Balinese culture has been built on a kind of collective amnesia about
certain aspects of its own history.
Balinese
responses to the many recent instances of political violence in
Indonesia are revealing of this amnesia. Balinese I spoke to
immediately after the turbulent events leading to the downfall of
Suharto in 1998 and the electoral riots of 1999, were deeply shocked by
such violence so close to home and insisted that it was an aberration
nothing to do with them: it was the fruits of politik from
elsewhere - Jakarta, or Java generally, or if it happened in Bali, the
work of outside provocateurs from places more inclined to the
'political'. Their own (and by implication 'Balinese') priorities by
contrast, were on two things only: their livelihoods, which were
dependent to varying degrees on tourism, and their religious practice,
on which both tourism and their livelihoods ultimately depended anyway.
They believed that they were being unfairly punished for the inevitable
consequences of the political activities of other people.
Familiar pattern
�o
far, local reactions to the Kuta bombing seems to have followed a very
similar pattern. That is, Balinese people's responses to the bombing
reveal that this apolitical self-image endures.
In
media reports and personal communications with friends and
acquaintances in the aftermath of the bomb, the following pattern
emerges. Firstly, locals' horror at the sheer human tragedy was
followed quickly by a chorus of outrage that such an atrocity could
have been perpetrated in Bali, and an insistence that it must be the
work of outsiders. People also insisted that the bombing must have been
motivated by jealousy and a desire to damage the reputation and economy
of Bali, and that it was the result of political machinations of
non-Balinese origin.
As acceptance of
the awful reality set in, reflections on deeper causes of the tragedy
emerged. Many began to see it as a result of deficiencies in their own
performance of ritual, and a kind of punishment for allowing the kind
of immoral and 'un-Balinese' development that the nightclub strip of
Kuta represented.
Certainly, there
have been many practical responses, including efforts to assist in both
the immediate relief effort and ongoing assistance to the many and
under-reported local victims. But the main priorities for Balinese seem
to have remained the need for massive investment in ritual purification
at a range of sites. This is indeed normal Balinese practice in
response to death and/or misfortune of any kind, but it was intensified
in proportion to the magnitude of the disaster. There has also been a
deep concern for the economic consequences and the future of tourism,
ranging from the direst of predictions to assurances of imminent
recovery and the need for immediate reconstruction.
Some
Balinese people have suggested the bomb may present an unwelcome but
perhaps valuable opportunity to rethink the kind of future the people
of Bali want. It remains to be seen whether these questions will remain
on the agenda for public debate or be submerged beneath the familiar
tides of tourist industry rhetoric and associated religious fervour.
Graeme MacRae (G.S.Macrae@massey.ac.nz) teaches Anthropology at Massey University in New Zealand.
|