Rewriting Faith, Rethinking Policy: A Queer Reading of Scripture and Its Challenge to Indonesia’s Public Morality Discourse

Throughout the long history of scriptural interpretation, authority has almost always sided with the dominant: men, heterosexuals, and those with privileged access to religious and state institutions. The holy text has often been “guarded” by a rigid and almost monolithic framework of interpretation, silencing voices that deviate from the norm. Within this context, Queer Menafsir—literally translated as Interpreting Queer or Queer Interpreting—emerges as an act of intellectual and spiritual resistance. Published by Penerbit Gading and written by Amar Alfikar, or Gus Amar, this book challenges the dominance of normative interpretation and opens space for diverse, inclusive, and liberating readings of Islamic texts.

As a singular work, Queer Menafsir draws from Alfikar’s own experiences as a queer Muslim, blending rigorous theological inquiry with personal reflection. This book is more than just a reinterpretation—it is a manifesto reclaiming the right to interpret, asserting that interpretation belongs to everyone, especially those long silenced by traditional institutions.

Queering Interpretation: Rooted in Body, Experience, and Critical Engagement

In the evolving discourse of Qur’anic interpretation, Queer Menafsir by Alfikar represents a significant departure from traditional exegetical approaches. This work is not simply theological; it is a deeply personal and embodied engagement with sacred text, shaped by experiences of marginalization, exclusion, and a longing for justice. Rather than presenting interpretation as abstract or detached, Alfikar situates it firmly within the realities of lived experience and emotional truth.

The interpretive method in Queer Menafsir asserts that religious texts do not inherently speak for themselves. As Alfikar writes, “Teks tak pernah berbicara sendiri. Tafsir dan pemaknaan kita lah yang sejatinya selalu berbicara mewakili siapa diri kita, konteks kita, realitas kita, bahkan batin kita” (“Texts never speak for themselves. It is our interpretation and meaning-making that always speak—representing who we are, our context, our reality, even our inner self”). This statement foregrounds the interpretive process as one inherently shaped by identity, culture, social conditions, and internal consciousness.

One of the central case studies is the story of Prophet Lot (Luth), traditionally invoked to condemn homosexuality. Rather than accepting conventional readings, the readers should re-examine the narrative through a critical and contextual lens. The focus shifts from condemning consensual same-sex relationships to highlighting themes of coercion, violence, and the abuse of hospitality. The sin described in the narrative is reframed not as a matter of sexual orientation, but as a grave violation of moral and social codes through acts of violence and domination.

This reframing represents a significant theological intervention. By detaching the narrative from its conventional moralistic lens, the interpretation allows for a reading that affirms dignity and human rights. It creates space for LGBTQ+ individuals within Islamic ethical discourse, challenging centuries of exclusionary interpretations.

The ethical thrust of Alfikar’s work is further evident in the engagement with Surah Al-Hujurat (49:11–12), which cautions against mockery, suspicion, and backbiting. These verses are interpreted not as tools of social control but as a call to build inclusive, empathetic, and accountable communities. The interpretive emphasis lies in fostering mutual respect, solidarity, and ethical relationality, especially toward those historically marginalized by dominant narratives.

Alfikar aligns with and builds upon the work of scholars such as Amina Wadud and Asma Barlas. Barlas, in particular, has emphasized that patriarchal interpretations of the Qur’an often reflect socio-political contexts rather than divine imperatives. No verse in the Qur’an, she notes, explicitly prohibits any sexual orientation. Alfikar extends this line of thought to include queer experiences and identities, suggesting that tafsir must remain responsive to contemporary realities and ethical challenges. Interpretation, in this framework, is not a quest for immutable truths, but an ongoing, dynamic engagement shaped by context and humanity.

In Indonesia, where religious interpretation frequently informs legal and social norms, Alfikar’s contributions carry significant political and cultural weight. The reinterpretation of scripture through a justice-oriented lens challenges dominant religious discourses and offers an alternative framework grounded in inclusion and compassion. Rather than opposing tradition, this approach seeks to reclaim it, asserting that Islamic theology can be aligned with principles of human dignity, equality, and pluralism.

Importantly, Alfikar does not claim to present the definitive reading of the Surah and Qur’an. The work is characterized by interpretive humility and a recognition that all readings are partial and contextually situated. Interpretation is portrayed as an act of ethical and spiritual responsibility rather than a pursuit of doctrinal finality. This stance encourages continued engagement with the text, fostering a dialogical relationship between scripture and the ever-changing realities of human life.

By grounding exegesis in lived experience, Queer Menafsir challenges traditional models of religious authority that privilege elite scholarship. The epistemological claim is clear: knowledge can arise from marginal locations, from those whose voices have long been silenced or dismissed. The authority to interpret is not reserved for those with formal credentials but is extended to those whose bodies and lives bear the weight of theological exclusion.

In this sense, Alfikar’s work becomes a form of embodied theology—a site where scars, desire, and hope meet the sacred. Queer experience is not portrayed as an impediment to religious engagement, but as a legitimate and insightful lens through which divine communication can be heard. The Qur’an, under this lens, transforms from a tool of moral policing into a source of spiritual nourishment and ethical orientation.

Queer Menafsir thus serves multiple purposes: a theological treatise, a political intervention, and a spiritual manifesto. It affirms the presence of queer Muslims within the ummah and offers a robust alternative to exclusionary hermeneutics. More broadly, it challenges all readers to approach the Qur’an with critical reflection, emotional honesty, and ethical clarity.

The interpretive model proposed in this work reimagines the role of tafsir in contemporary life. Rather than seeking conformity to static doctrines, it advocates for interpretive practices that are dialogical, justice-oriented, and open to transformation. This model insists that religious texts are not sacred because they are immutable, but because they invite continuous engagement—especially from those at the margins.

Alfikar’s Queer Menafsir offers a transformative approach to Qur’anic interpretation. Rooted in body, experience, and critical engagement, it challenges both traditionalist and liberal paradigms by centering the voices and lives of those most affected by theological exclusion. It redefines what it means to read the Qur’an faithfully—not through rigid adherence to inherited norms, but through a commitment to compassion, justice, and the enduring search for meaning in the Divine word.

Sacred Bodies, Secular Laws: Queer Spirituality as a Challenge to Indonesia’s Public Morality Policies

At the heart of Queer Menafsir lies a bold theological and political claim: queerness is not a departure from Islamic spirituality—it is a profound expression of it. Alfikar’s writing refuses to beg for tolerance or mere inclusion. Instead, he asserts that queer Muslims are integral to experiencing divine mercy, love, and justice. His theology is not only about acceptance—it’s about transformation. He frames fragility, embodiment, and desire as sacred paths toward the divine, thereby subverting dominant religious narratives that often deem queer bodies as sinful or profane.

This spiritual lens is inherently political in the Indonesian context, where state policies on public morality frequently rely on patriarchal and heteronormative readings of Islam. Several regional regulations—Peraturan Daerah (Perda) Syariah—enforce moral codes that criminalize non-normative gender and sexual identities. For instance, in Aceh, the only province permitted to implement full Sharia law, same-sex relations are punishable by public caning. Other provinces like South Sumatra and West Java have passed regulations targeting “immoral behaviour,” a vague category that disproportionately impacts LGBTQ+ individuals.

These laws are often justified through selective and conservative religious interpretations, giving the impression that they represent a divine mandate. However, Alfikar challenges this theological monopoly. His interpretations act as “counter-law literature,” a concept from legal studies that refers to texts which critique dominant legal frameworks by offering alternative epistemologies rooted in lived experiences. Queer Menafsir builds a bridge between theology and justice, insisting that any law claiming religious legitimacy must be interrogated through the lens of compassion, plurality, and lived human realities.

Alfikar’s project resonates deeply with the philosophical work of Judith Butler, particularly her discussions on gender performativity and the politics of recognition. Butler challenges the idea that gender and sexuality are static, biological facts; instead, she frames them as performative acts shaped by cultural norms. Applying Butler’s insights to the Indonesian context, we see how the state’s morality policies function to rigidly enforce gender binaries and heteronormative behavior, punishing those who deviate. But Butler also emphasizes the subversive power of performativity—the idea that by living authentically, marginalized individuals can expose the constructed nature of these norms and unsettle the very foundations of regulatory power.

In this light, Alfikar’s theology becomes a form of resistance—not just against social stigma, but against a legal system that enshrines moral hierarchies. His insistence on the sacredness of queer bodies is a direct challenge to the state’s attempt to control them. It echoes Butler’s idea that bodies are not only shaped by power—they are sites of agency that can contest it. Queer lives, especially when articulated in spiritual terms, reveal the cracks in public morality laws that claim universality but are in fact deeply exclusionary.

This critique is especially urgent considering the broader trend of moral policing in Indonesia. The Draft Criminal Code (RKUHP), which was passed in 2022, contains several articles that expand the scope of morality laws. These include provisions criminalizing extramarital sex and cohabitation, which, while seemingly neutral, have been flagged by civil society groups as potential tools for targeting LGBTQ+ communities. Though same-sex relationships are not explicitly criminalized under national law, the ambiguity of these moral clauses enables discriminatory enforcement by local authorities.

Within this oppressive legal landscape, Lies Marcoes’ advocacy offers a powerful counterpoint. A seasoned feminist thinker and activist, Marcoes critiques the dominance of male religious authorities in shaping public discourse and moral policy. She argues that theological interpretation must be democratized, opening space for women and marginalized groups—including queer communities—to voice their perspectives. Her work complements Alfikar’s by emphasizing the importance of inclusive religious discourse in shaping just laws.

Marcoes also calls attention to the state’s role in legitimizing only certain religious voices—usually those aligned with conservative clerical bodies such as the Indonesian Ulema Council (MUI). This monopolization sidelines more progressive, empathetic interpretations of Islam that prioritize social welfare over doctrinal rigidity. In supporting figures like Alfikar, Marcoes underscores a vital point: public policy should not merely reflect religious dogma but must be informed by the ethical imperatives of care, equity, and human dignity.

Translating these theological insights into meaningful political reform requires a reimagining of Indonesia’s approach to public morality and legal governance. This reimagination must begin by revisiting morality-based regional laws and assessing their compatibility with Indonesia’s constitutional commitments to equality and pluralism. Laws that criminalize gender expression and non-normative sexualities must be critically evaluated and, where necessary, repealed. Such legal frameworks—often justified as upholding social values—frequently violate fundamental human rights and contribute to systemic discrimination and violence.

Furthermore, Indonesia must establish clear and enforceable anti-discrimination protections for LGBTQ+ individuals. While national development plans such as the Rencana Pembangunan Jangka Menengah Nasional (RPJMN) and initiatives from the Ministry of Women’s Empowerment and Child Protection (KPPPA) gesture toward inclusive governance, they often fail to account for the specific vulnerabilities faced by queer communities. Legal protections must move beyond vague commitments and be grounded in both national human rights frameworks and theological arguments that affirm the sanctity and dignity of all people, regardless of gender or sexuality.

Equally important is the democratization of religious authority. The state must resist the temptation to centralize theological interpretation within rigid, conservative institutions. Instead, it should actively foster theological pluralism by supporting diverse scholarly voices—including queer theologians, feminist clerics, and progressive pesantren leaders. Public education campaigns and theological training programs could empower these voices to shape moral discourse in ways that are both theologically grounded and socially just.

Religious educational institutions, particularly pesantren, hold immense influence in shaping the moral consciousness of future generations. These institutions must be equipped to engage with issues of gender and sexuality not as taboos, but as essential aspects of human and spiritual development. Incorporating inclusive theological frameworks into religious education would not only reduce harm but also nurture environments of empathy and growth, aligned with the ethical care advocated by Alfikar.

Civil society organizations play a crucial role in this transformation. Their participation in shaping legislation and public morality discourse must be not only tolerated but institutionalized through consultative mechanisms. These organizations, often on the front lines of defending vulnerable communities, bring with them rich knowledge of the socio-political dynamics at play, as well as a deep ethical commitment to justice. Their work is a vital complement to the theological insights of thinkers like Alfikar and Judith Butler, anchoring policy reform in the lived realities of Indonesia’s people.

As Alfikar writes in Queer Menafsir, “Dalam konteks teologis, berilah ruang kepada queer… Temanilah mereka dalam kebingungan, kegelisahan, dan luka-luka yang dia hadapi dalam proses mengenal diri.” (“In a theological context, give space to queer individuals to know and accept themselves… Accompany them in the confusion, restlessness, and the wounds they endure in the process of self-discovery.”)

This line captures the spirit of the reform that Alfikar and his allies call for—not moral correction, but moral accompaniment. In doing so, they offer a vision of public policy not as a mechanism for control, but as a vehicle for ethical care. The Indonesian state must reflect not just the most conservative voices in the mosque, but the full spectrum of spiritual and bodily experiences lived by its citizens. Queer spirituality, in this vision, is not a private matter—it is public, political, and profoundly sacred.

Queer Menafsir: On the Liberty to Interpret

Queer Menafsir is more than just a book—it is a bold declaration of freedom and an invitation to rethink who has the right to interpret sacred texts. Through this work, Alfikar challenges long-standing assumptions that religious interpretation, or tafsir, is the exclusive domain of male clerics or state-sanctioned scholars. Instead, he reminds us that interpretation is a right that belongs to everyone. It is a human right rooted in our shared spiritual capacity and moral agency.

For queer Muslims in particular, Queer Menafsir is not merely an academic exercise or theological commentary—it is a deeply personal and political act. It asserts that queer individuals need not wait for validation from traditional authorities to engage with scripture. They do not need permission to believe, to interpret, or to speak. The book insists that faith is not a passive inheritance but an active, living engagement with the Divine—one that includes queer voices, perspectives, and lived experiences.

This democratization of interpretation matters—now more than ever. In Indonesia, and in many other countries, religion is increasingly weaponized to control public and private behavior, particularly in relation to morality and sexuality. State officials routinely consult religious authorities when drafting laws or policies that regulate gender and sexual expression. This has led to the marginalization, and in some cases criminalization, of queer identities. In such a context, the right to interpret religious texts becomes not just a theological issue but a matter of survival.

Queer Menafsir contributes to a broader and growing movement within Islamic thought that resists rigid interpretations and embraces plurality. It resonates with scholars such as Khaled Abou El Fadl, who argues that interpretive plurality is not just permissible but a moral obligation in Islam. To interpret is to engage in ijtihad—a process of critical reasoning that has always been part of Islamic tradition. Alfikar’s work reminds us that this tradition is not closed; it is alive, dynamic, and capable of embracing the complexity of modern life, including queerness.

In amplifying diverse voices, Queer Menafsir stands in solidarity with global movements for queer inclusion within religious communities. One of the most significant moments of religious inclusivity came in 2013, when Pope Francis, in an interview with journalists on his flight back to Rome from Brazil, made the now-famous statement in response to questions about homosexuality in the Catholic Church. When asked about the Church’s stance on LGBTQ+ people, he said:

“If a person is gay and seeks God and has good will, who am I to judge them? […] The Catechism of the Church says that they should not be discriminated against, that they should be respected, accompanied pastorally.”

— Pope Francis, July 28, 2013, on his flight from Brazil to Rome

These words were revolutionary at the time, as they marked a shift away from harsh doctrinal condemnation towards an approach rooted in compassion, respect, and understanding. This statement was made within the context of rising global awareness about the struggles faced by LGBTQ+ individuals, particularly in countries where homosexuality remains criminalized, and in regions where religious institutions have often been complicit in this oppression. The Pope’s message signaled a pastoral and moral shift—a call for the Church to provide care rather than condemnation, and to see LGBTQ+ individuals not as “sinners” to be judged, but as human beings deserving of dignity and respect.

Pope Francis’s words, though situated within the Catholic Church’s broader moral framework, encouraged a more nuanced understanding of faith, sin, and judgment. By emphasizing that God’s love is unconditional and not contingent on one’s sexuality, Pope Francis elevated the moral responsibility of religious leaders to protect LGBTQ+ individuals from harm and injustice.

For queer theologians like Alfikar, such moments of clarity and courage from global religious leaders are affirming. They reinforce the notion that faith can be a space for inclusion, not exclusion. They highlight that theology—when rooted in love—can be a tool for liberation rather than oppression. Pope Francis’s statement serves as a powerful reminder that all religious traditions have within them the seeds of justice, waiting to be nurtured and reclaimed.

Alfikar’s work is deeply rooted in Islamic heritage, but it also participates in these global conversations about justice, inclusion, and spiritual liberation. One of the most powerful statements in Queer Menafsir comes on page 106, where Alfikar writes:

“Fitrah manusia adalah tanah dan cinta… Bagaimana mungkin fitrah cinta mengubah manusia menjadi pembenci terhadap orang lain yang berbeda?”

(“The essence of humanity is soil and love… How can the essence of love turn a person into someone who hates those who are different?”)

This passage encapsulates the heart of Queer Menafsir. Alfikar suggests that our fitrah—our innate human nature—is not one of violence or exclusion but of love and interconnectedness. If our laws, our theologies, and our communities lead us to hate or harm those who are different, then we must question the foundations of those structures. We must ask: Have we lost sight of our divine essence?

Queer Menafsir functions both as a critique and as a guide. It holds up a mirror to society’s failures, particularly the ways in which religious authority has been used to marginalize and silence queer lives. But it also offers a vision for transformation. It invites us to imagine a faith that is not based on notions of purity or certainty, but one grounded in empathy, in struggle, and in a recognition of our shared humanity.

In a world where public spaces—legal, social, and spiritual—often render queer bodies invisible or undesirable, Queer Menafsir affirms their presence and dignity. It is not merely about reclaiming scripture; it is about reclaiming the right to belong. It is about reclaiming citizenship, voice, and identity in both religious and national narratives.

Ultimately, Queer Menafsir challenges its readers to rethink what it means to be faithful. It asks: Can we build a religious discourse that affirms rather than excludes? Can we imagine a community where interpretation is not policed but encouraged—where everyone, regardless of gender or sexuality, has the right to wrestle with the sacred?

Desca Angelianawati, also known as Desca Ang, is a lecturer and research assistant based in Indonesia. She enjoys reading, writing, and reviewing books with John Denver and Connie Francis as her soundtrack.

Edoardus E. Maturbongs is a senior lecturer in the graduate program at Universitas Musamus Merauke, specializing in public policy. When he’s not teaching, he travels the world seeking inspiration in different cultures and governance practices.