In recent times, religious nationalism has emerged as a major basis for identity and mobilization. In Asia, religious nationalism specifically challenges existing pluralist approaches to constitutional government, which have generally been seen as necessary to ensure peaceful coexistence. The increasing alignment of religious and national boundaries has the worrying capacity to neutralize the “cross-cutting cleavages” that could otherwise vitiate the centrifugal tendencies of pluralistic societies. In the context of pluralistic Asia, therefore, religious nationalism is fundamentally anchored in a rejection of ethnic, religious, cultural, and even legal plurality. This has serious consequences for the freedoms of religious groups, particularly minority groups and minorities within dominant religious groups. This article introduces the Special Issue studying not only the phenomenon of religious nationalism in Asia, but also its impact on the rights of religious groups and their religious freedoms, broadly conceived.

Although the figure of the wise judge may be a universal trope, respect is not automatically accorded every person who passes judgment on another. To be perceived as legitimate, judges must occupy an institutional status with the power to decide controverted cases and must have access to specialized or even sacred knowledge and moral authority. Historically, Asian judges could claim legitimacy through their connection to transcendent legal principles, such as dhamma or dao or shari’a. In contemporary Asia, however, conceptions of law and legal legitimacy have become pluralistic, contested, and contradictory. Judges may to some extent retain a connection to the sacred and the transcendent, yet that connection is no longer sufficient in itself to insulate their judgments—or their character—from criticism. How, then, can the “good judge” be distinguished from judges who fall short of the mark? In this Special Issue, five distinguished scholars explore the crisis of legitimation as it affects judging and judgment in Sri Lanka, India, China, Indonesia, and Thailand.

In this Introduction, Indonesia’s approach towards refugee protection is contextualized historically and regionally in light of the enactment of Presidential Regulation No. 125 of 2016 concerning the Treatment of Refugees (PR). In particular, we describe the legal and policy framework for refugee protection in Indonesia and analyze its underlying norms and values, including the constitutional right to asylum. We explain how the legal framework competes with Law No. 6 of 2011 on Immigration, which facilitates a discretionary, securitized, and ‘humanitarian’ approach to refugee policy, which is inconsistent with Indonesia’s legal responsibilities. In conclusion, we assess both the challenges and opportunities provided by the PR.

In this article, I argue that religious nationalism poses a unique challenge to the liberal theory of religious freedom. In arguing this, the article first develops and defines an ideal type of religious nationalism through an analysis of Hindu-nationalist and religious Zionist thought. I show that religious nationalism in states like India and Israel have the unique status of intimate rivals. They are intimate since they are able to successfully present themselves as the carriers of the authentic character of the nation-state and utilize modern political tools. As a result, they are free of much of the unifying pressures of state nationalism. And they are rivals because they promote a vision of society and politics that fundamentally challenges the political identity of the state. The paper then turns to the justifications and rationales of religious freedom—both in seminal cases and in political and legal scholarship—and applies them to religious nationalism. It argues that the status of intimate rivalry should, depending on which justification of religious freedom we adhere to, change the way in which we morally and legally understand religious nationalism. First, because religious nationalism is intimate—that is, acceptable and mainstream—it should be approached as a part of the culture of the majority. This implies that we should be less concerned about infringements of religious freedom in the case of the adherents and organizations of religious nationalism. Second, the rivalry of religious nationalism is in itself a good reason for the nation-state not to accommodate it.

Drawing on textual and ethnographic research conducted over the last five years, this article analyses an important genre of judicial practice in South and Southeast Asia that has been almost entirely ignored by socio-legal scholars: Buddhist systems of judging. Using the judicial system of one monastic group in contemporary Sri Lanka as a case-study, it argues that Buddhist judging requires more than just the internalization of moral principles, as is often assumed. According to Buddhist (monastic) principles of judging, legal procedures—similar to those used in state legal settings—are equally essential. These procedures govern everything from making legal complaints, to the structuring of trials, to determining jurisdiction, and many other topics. By examining Buddhist judicial systems, this article not only casts new light on the pluri-legal landscape of Asia; it also offers new reflections on the intersection of religion-based and state-based systems of law in the contemporary world.

In this paper, I want to focus on some aspects of the political process in India that have an impact on the treatment of religious minorities. Much of the discussion on multicultural jurisdictions deals with differentiated citizenship rights that allow religious groups to maintain their normative universe. This literature shows the tensions surrounding individual and group rights. I want to approach the question of religious freedom from a rather different angle. I want to first focus on the protection of bare life in the face of religious violence and then examine the issue of conversion from one religion to another. The issues of human security and conversion are linked in India, since Hindu nationalists see Muslims as forcibly converted Hindus who should be reconverted. To highlight the importance of majoritarian nationalism rather than political systems in the treatment of religious minorities, I offer a brief comparison with China.

The Presidential Regulation No. 125 of 2016 concerning the Treatment of Refugees (PR) was a promising step to a better humanitarian response for refugees and asylum seekers arriving in Indonesia. It also provided a much-needed legal framework to validate refugees’ presence and to ground civil -society organizations’ advocacy on their behalf. However, a closer look at the PR and earlier drafts of the document shows serious compromises that: (1) reproduce the notion that refugees are only transiting in Indonesia; (2) frame refugees as passive objects, failing to recognize them as subjects with rights; and (3) prioritize security concerns that position refugees at odds with Indonesian society (masyarakat). Using the “What’s the Problem Represented to be” approach, this article highlights what is included and excluded from the PR and how it falls short of guaranteeing meaningful protection for refugees while living in Indonesia.

The Indian Supreme Court has long enjoyed an almost mythic reputation for progressive and creative jurisprudence, but a series of recent scandals is beginning to erode this well-settled authority. One of the most troubling of these incidents has been an allegation of sexual harassment and intimidation by a Court staffer against then sitting Chief Justice of India (CJI) Ranjan Gogoi. This article draws on media analysis and ethnographic research conducted in the immediate aftermath of the “CJI Scandal” to explore what it means for judges and judging in contemporary India. I argue that the justices’ response to the allegations are part of a broader shift in Indian judging. Far from being the product of an institution imbued with mythic qualities, judging in India is increasingly coming to represent an example of mythos, or “an assertive discourse of power and authority … something to be believed and obeyed.”

Proponents of secularism often describe their support for this form of governance in terms of the protections it provides against the excesses, dangers, and coercions of religious governance. In reality, however, the differences between secular and religious systems of governance are often overstated, with secularism’s promises being in conversation with secularism’s failures. This article explores one recent and important instance of such secular failure, namely the high-profile Indian case of Shayara Bano v. Union of India deciding the legal legitimacy of “triple talaq,” a common Indian Muslim divorce practice. During the litigation of this case, a prominent Indian Muslim organization ended up engaging in sectarian modes of argumentation, whereby aspersions were cast on the Muslim bona fides of certain persons and communities. Further, in the course of deciding Shayara Bano, a religiously diverse set of Indian Supreme Court justices found themselves disagreeing along communal lines about either the necessity or ability of the secular state to “reform” Muslim family law. In all this, sectarian and communitarian divisions in India were heightened, and the social peace and religious freedom promised by secularism were severely undermined.

This article assesses the responsibility of local governments in Indonesia for the management of refugee care, following the enactment of Presidential Regulation No. 125 of 2016 concerning the Treatment of Refugees (the “PR”). It highlights the limited authority of local governments in handling refugee issues—which is an issue that cuts across several national legal and administrative regimes including Foreign Affairs, Human Rights, and Immigration. This article focuses on the constraints of local political dynamics and budgeting in allocating local government funds for refugee care. In addressing these concerns, the authors argue that the PR should be amended to explicitly define the role of local governments in managing refugee issues and to include the regional revenue and expenditure budget as a source of funding. In addition, the authors argue that local governments that are hosting refugees should establish relevant local regulations for implementation of the PR.

This article analyzes the ambitious Case Quality Assessment System (CQAS) that the Supreme People’s Court of China (SPC) promoted during the first half of the 2010s. It offers a case-study of Court J, a grassroots court located in an affluent urban metropolis of China that struggled to come out ahead in the CQAS competition. The article discusses how the SPC quantified judging and the problems created by the metricization process. The CQAS project is analyzed as a case of metric fixation. By identifying the problems that doomed the CQAS, the article points out the challenges facing the authoritarian regime in subjecting good judging to quantitative output standards. The CQAS is a metric that judges judging. It reveals how judging is viewed by the party-state. The article concludes by discussing the legacy of the CQAS. Though it nominally ended in 2014, key indicators that it introduced for supervising judges are still used by the Chinese courts today. The CQAS presaged the growing centralization that the Chinese judicial system is undergoing today. Though the SPC has terminated the tournament-style competition that defined the CQAS, the metric remains the template used to evaluate judging.

Triggered by the sense of crisis, the Thai state and Thai Buddhism are renewing their traditional relationship kindled by the monarch-led reform over a century ago. Thai Buddhism is reviving its lost aura and hegemony while the political conservatives are looking for legitimacy and collective identity in a time of democratic regression. The result is the rise of the Buddhist-nationalistic movement, Buddhist-as-Thainess notion. The phenomenon has grown more mainstream in recent years. These extreme Buddhists pressure the government to adopt a new constitutional relationship that brings the two entities closer to a full establishment. They also target both religious minorities as well as non-mainstream Buddhists. The revival of Buddhist nationalism foretells rising tension as well as diminishing religious freedom.

In May 2018, Artidjo Alkostar retired from the Supreme Court of Indonesia after a judicial career spanning almost two decades. Over this period, he presided over many of Indonesia’s most prominent and controversial criminal cases and became renowned for routinely rejecting corruption appeals and increasing prison sentences. In the celebratory publications that marked his retirement, Alkostar was held up as a model judge, with senior legal figures, including Supreme Court judges, singling out his strong work ethic, integrity, simplicity of character, and firmness. Curiously absent from the list of praiseworthy attributes were pre-requisites for effective judging, including adequate legal knowledge, transparent legal reasoning and decision-making, objectivity and avoiding the perception of bias. An analysis of Alkostar’s most notorious decisions suggests that he, and the judges who served with him, did not always clearly display these pre-requisites. This article considers what this says about judging in Indonesia and what might, in practice, be the defining characteristics of a good judge there.

This article analyses the “local turn” in refugee governance in Indonesia through a comparative case-study of two cities: Makassar and Jakarta. It compares how these two cities have responded to the obligations to provide alternative accommodation to detention, imposed upon them by the Presidential Regulation No. 125 of 2016 concerning the Treatment of Refugees (PR). While the shift to non-custodial community shelters has been widely praised, we discuss issues that arose when the national government shifted the responsibility for providing accommodation for refugees to local governments, without the allocation of the required funds. The outcome has been a general lack of engagement by local governments. By locating this case-study in the wider global trend of “local turns” in the management of refugee issues, we argue that, in Indonesia, the “local turn” in responsibility for refugees is not fostering a protection approach, but has worsened the conditions for refugees.

This article examines how Thai courts of the first instance deal with run-of-the-mill criminal cases. How do judges deal with criminal trials of a rather routine nature, often involving defendants from ethnic minorities and reflecting the particular conditions in the provinces concerned? Drawing on participant observation and interview research conducted mainly in two provinces in different regions of the country, the article examines the challenges faced by judges and court officials in dealing with heavy caseloads in a highly bureaucratized system where acquittal rates are extremely low. How far do such cases shed light on how judging is carried out in the majority of Thai courts? What kind of challenges do Thai judges face in adjudicating minor but often messy cases in order to fulfil societal expectations in line with their own understandings of justice?

This article assesses the implementation of Presidential Regulation No. 125 of 2016 concerning the Treatment of Refugees and how it relates to different kinds of bureaucratic labelling of refugees as it unfolds in Indonesia’s region of Kupang. From a politico-historical perspective, Kupang is a useful case-study for elucidating the policy implications of the labelling of refugees, as the region has been hosting different kinds of refugees due to its strategic geographical location that borders Australia and Timor-Leste. Drawing on my fieldwork in Kupang between October 2012 and October 2013, and my intermittent return to the region between January 2017 and February 2019, this article argues that labels for refugees evolve over time in response to the larger sociopolitical situation, but they are formed mostly to serve the interest of the host country rather than those of displaced people. Furthermore, while labelling displaced people as “refugees” has been effective in justifying funding and support, it can also lead to a manipulation of refugee status, and the marginalization and exclusion of refugees.

T. H. Marshall’s 1950 seminal work shows that the granting of civil, political, and social rights leads to the institutionalization of rules binding the state and its citizens. In practice, however, citizenship goes beyond these unproblematized paternalistic relations. It is political, involving connection, competition, and conflicts. Isin and Turner (2002) propose that “citizenship” should be examined through its extent (norms of inclusion and exclusion), content (rights and responsibility), and depth (citizens’ perceived relation to their political community). In Indonesia, the discrimination against members of minority religions by Islamic conservative groups is among the main issues in politics. This article therefore examines the ambiguity between the constitutionally embraced “religious freedom” and the everyday discriminatory practices of conservative groups. Taking the case-studies of the sectarian campaign against a Chinese-Christian governor, the blasphemy sentence of a Chinese-Buddhist woman, and the persecution of the Ahmadiyah and Syiah, I argue that conservative groups have practised a “segregated citizenship” that prioritizes the values and interests of the majority religion against those of both the “accepted” and the “unaccepted” minority religions.

This article explains the extent to which Indonesia has international obligations to comply with the non-refoulement principle in the absence of ratification of the 1951 Refugee Convention. While Presidential Regulation No. 125 of 2016 concerning the Treatment of Refugees provides the general impression that Indonesia respects the non-refoulement principle, there is no specific text within Indonesian law and policy that regulates the matter. This article argues that Indonesia is legally bound by non-refoulement obligations under international human rights treaties to which it is a party, as well as under customary international law. It examines the extent of Indonesia’s non-refoulement obligations under the Convention Against Torture, the International Convention on Civil and Political Rights, the Convention on the Rights of the Child, and customary international law. It concludes that the Presidential Regulation was a missed opportunity for Indonesia to reinforce its non-refoulement obligations, as illustrated by the recent treatment of Rohingya asylum seekers near Aceh.