Amid the Raucous Oral Carnival

HERYUNANTO

.

In a Philosophy of Language class, I asked my students as to the meaning of mengamankan (to secure) and menertibkan (to control). Most of my students said that mengamankan meant to provide a sense of security or to keep away threats.

For instance, a common phrase used to describe the action taken against an alleged pickpocket is “the authorities have secured [mengamankan] the perpetrator”. As for menertibkan, most of my students referred to its denotative meaning: the activity taken on something chaotic to put it under control or into order.

The student respondents in my small survey were born in or after 1998. Most of them were mere infants when the New Order fell. This is why none of them has any memory of the connotative meaning of mengamankan, to arrest people in sometimes horrifying ways. Similarly, when they think of the word menertibkan, they do not associate it with “evicting with force” or “tear-gassing protesters”.

Triple-edged sword

Such is the history of language. On the lips of those who were infants during the New Order, mengamankan and menertibkan have been restored to their denotative meanings. Dictionaries have come to the rescue and the two words have been saved from their erstwhile terrifying meanings. These youngsters – who happen to be my students – may not even be aware that “stability”, “subversive” and “development”, the connotative meanings of which were almost “superstition” during the New Order, were never used then, as only their denotative meanings were permitted. To borrow poet Afrizal Malna’s expression, these meanings were strictly under military guard.

However, this came from a darker period of our time in the game of defining language, which philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein (1889-1951) said would undergo changes in its rules as the times changed. In the era of social media, words flow freely like eggs hatching night and day, and their denotative meanings are not under the guard of the “morphological police”. Netizens are free to use whatever diction they please and whatever their pejorative interpretations of the words they find on Twitter, Instagram and Facebook or in WhatsApp groups. From this freedom of definition amid a jungle of words has emerged the now commonplace habit of name-calling, teasing and blocking social media friends.

Simple and popular phrases like “kelar idup lo” (“you’re dead”), “situ waras?” (“are you insane?”) or “masyuuuk Pak Eko!” (“goaaal, Mr. Eko!”) are examples that celebrate orality, so that specific dictionaries are sometimes necessary to truly explore their contextual horizons. The three are like a triple-edged sword: They can be offensive when speaking about something new, defensive when attacking offensive diction, or entertaining when used satirically or allegorically, so that whatever comments associated with these popular terms or phrases are used in an attempt at mirth amid an always tense atmosphere.

As it has turned out, waves of these oral expressions are shaking the atmosphere of political communications ahead of the 2019 elections. It is as though the electoral arena has been enclosed within the connotative interpretations of the narratives of the two presidential candidates. The very first indication of this was seen when Prabowo Subianto’s running mate, Sandiaga Uno, used the phrase “tempeh can be sliced as thinly as ATM cards”, which then prompted numerous possible interpretations. Some saw it as an allegory of the increasing price of imported soybeans, which then caused production costs to increase and tempeh sellers cutting their tempeh slices thinly to ensure stable prices. Some offered the connotative meaning of how difficult it was to imagine tempeh slices as thin as ATM cards, but as Sandiaga came from a well-off family and had been familiar with ATM cards since childhood, this was simply how he measured the thinness of tempeh that he saw at markets. Still others commented that this was merely a joke intended to boost Sandiaga’s popularity, which remained low according to several surveys.

President Joko Widodo, who is seeking reelection next year, then entered the fray by using the word sontoloyo (duck herder). The word was defined as a semiotic symbol with respect to whether or not it was proper for a president to use it. The President explained repeatedly that he had used the word merely to refer to those parties he deemed were being unfair in their views on the government’s good will in its planned subdistrict fund. The term sontoloyo does not have any weighty meaning. President Soekarno once used it metaphorically and this did not affect his reputation as president and head of state. However, in the strong current of oral expressions today, any pejorative interpretation can be cooked up with seemingly convincing arguments that lead to prolonged debate.

Pejorative interpretations also came up in connection with the President’s use of the words genderuwo (an ape-like boogeyman) and tabok (to slap about the head), with Prabow’s use of tampang Boyolali (”Boyolali face”) and Ma’ruf Amin’s use of buta-tuli (blind and deaf). Perhaps it is common for parents to use the genderuwo to scare their children into staying home after dark. In the context of the President’s statement, he was using the word to refer to politicians who employed fearmongering tactics in scaring the public with news that they had not taken the trouble to check for accuracy. This included so-called predictions that Indonesia would either collapse or go bankrupt due to the fragility of its economic fundamentals, even though the President had said there was nothing to be scared of, because the government had prepared solutions for every potential problem and it would prudently carry out these solutions. Instead of spreading fear, politicians should promote optimism and the new hope of a bright future for Indonesia.

Battle of interpretations

Presidential candidate Prabowo was also hit by the wave of interpretations regarding his oral expressions, as were Jokowi, Sandiaga and Ma’ruf. The phrase “tampang Boyolali”, which he originally used merely to refer to our nation’s insecurity in the face of foreign capitalists, was later distorted in its meaning as an assumed insult against local communities, especially against the people of Boyolali regency the Central Java. The polemic on tampang Boyolali raged for days on social media.

Jokowi’s running mate Ma’ruf Amin experienced a similar thing when he used “buta-tuli” to refer to a Qur’anic verse on people who could no longer see with their hearts or listen with their ears, and it was never about hurting or insulting disabled people. However, a message that is deliberately distorted before it ever arrives at its intended audience can be capitalized to degrade the morality of its utterer. Social media timelines were taken over for days on end by debate that was far removed from the actual ideas and work programs that aimed to achieve prosperity for all Indonesians.

We may never be able to avoid this carnival of oral expressions, but can electoral margins truly be won by these petty battles over the pejorative interpretations of harmless statements? If the two candidate pairs are indeed battling over votes from the 17-34 age bracket – believed to comprise tens of millions of voters and the key to winning the election – would they really resort to such low-brow and undignified oral politics? These individuals often talk using uncomplicated language and shun polemics. They often rely on visual language, even one as simple as an emoticon.

For them, the ongoing carnival of oral expressions is full of empty words. Meanwhile, our politicians expend all their energy debating endlessly on slices of tempeh as thin as ATM cards, sontoloyo, tampang Boyolali, buta-tuli, etc. Ah, so much “baper” (carrying-on)...

Damhuri Muhammad, Writer; Philosophy Lecturer, Darma Persada University, Jakarta