When Collectivism Gave Comfort: During Grief and Faced with Loneliness

A very dear friend's mother-in-law passed away on a Monday morning. The news came suddenly, prompting his family to reschedule their commitments and set everything else aside. They made the decision to drive rather than take a train or plane, allowing for the flexibility to process the moment as a family. They traveled deliberately, resting every two hours, and kept their speed below 80 km/h even on the toll road. The journey was long, heavy with grief and reflection.

A Night of Generosity and Solidarity

By the time they arrived at the village late at night, the air was crisp and cold, a reminder of the village’s location at the foot of Mount Slamet. The wake had already been underway for hours, with villagers seated on plastic chairs in quiet solidarity. These were neighbors who had known the family for decades—people bound not by blood but by shared history and community. Most of them were older, likely over 50, their presence steady and comforting in its simplicity.

Inside the house, the family spent a solemn moment with the deceased. She had lived in the village since 1965, the only Christian in a community of 30 Muslim families within the RT (Rukun Tetangga). She lay peacefully in her casket, dressed in a white kebaya, her face serene as if asleep. Outside, the hum of the busy village street blended with the occasional rush of motorcycles climbing uphill and cars speeding down. Clove, coffee, and banana trees stood still, as if offering a silent farewell. The weather was unusually calm, as though nature itself was paying tribute to her life.

The family had traveled for hours from Jakarta. Exhausted, hungry, and unclean from the road, they were met with the steadfast presence of villagers. Their stillness bridged the gap between life and death, as if they were accompanying both the deceased and the grieving family. One of the neighbors, Slamet, quietly noticed their exhaustion and left without a word.

An hour later, Slamet returned, carrying four oversized plates of Nasi Mawut, each piled high with a hearty mix of rice, noodles, eggs, and chili. The aroma of the food cut through the cold night air, bringing warmth and care. Cooked in his own kitchen, it wasn’t just food—it was a gesture of solidarity. The plates were shared among the family and the villagers who had been present since daylight.

Seated on the plastic chairs, they ate. The chili’s heat mingled with the bitterness of black coffee poured into small cups, some sweetened with sugar and others left plain. Cigarette smoke curled into the night as the men passed around six boxes of Kretek, finishing them within a few hours. The sharp scent of cloves mixed with the aroma of peanuts being cracked open and eaten quietly. It wasn’t just a meal—it was a communal act, a tangible reminder that in grief, community endures.

A Morning of Harmony

The next morning, villagers arrived one by one to pay their respects. The women sat in rows on the veranda, their colorful scarves framing solemn faces. Among them was a visitor from the city, her uncovered hair subtly standing out but blending effortlessly into the gathering. Neighbors, predominantly Muslim, sat quietly outside as the Christian family conducted the burial rites inside. Hymns floated through the morning air, carried by the voices of the congregation. Pastors preached, deacons prayed, and the melodies blended with the hum of the busy street. Outside, the clove, coffee, and banana trees stood motionless, as if witnessing this final farewell.

There was no tension, no sense of division—only shared reverence. Some neighbors nodded as they listened to the hymns, their gestures reflecting an understanding that transcended differences. During the ceremony, one of the villagers was asked why so many had come. The response was simple: “The family was always kind.” They shared stories of the deceased’s generosity. Every Christmas, she prepared gifts for the neighbors. During Lebaran, the neighbors brought ketupat, and she always sent a token of thanks in return. When misfortune struck any family in the RT, she discreetly offered financial help. Her quiet acts of kindness left an indelible mark on the community, and their presence was their way of honoring her. They seemed not to see her being Christian as threatening. She had lived there since 1965, perhaps longer than most of them.

Someone senior among the ladies added that in her religion they were taught

"La kum dinukum waliya din", "For you is your religion, and for me is my religion."Surah Al-Kafirun (109:6).

She said that this verse emphasizes mutual respect and the idea of religious tolerance. It acknowledges that individuals are free to follow their own beliefs while maintaining peaceful coexistence. It is often cited in discussions about interfaith harmony and respect for diverse perspectives.

The Philosophy of Wong Urip Urup

The concept of "Wong Urip Urup" fits harmoniously within the framework of collectivism, particularly in its emphasis on contributing to the well-being of the group and ensuring one’s existence benefits others. In collectivist cultures, values like group harmony, mutual support, and shared responsibility are central, and "Wong Urip Urup" embodies these principles. It aligns with the notion that individuals are not isolated but interconnected with their community, and their worth is measured by how much they contribute to the collective good.

However, "Wong Urip Urup" also adds a unique dimension to collectivism by emphasizing active contribution rather than passive conformity. While collectivism can sometimes hinder innovation due to its focus on preserving group norms, "Wong Urip Urup" encourages individuals to be proactive in serving the community, which could be interpreted as a call to innovate or take meaningful action for the group’s benefit. In this sense, it provides a balance between maintaining group harmony and fostering individual initiative for the greater good.

Thus, "Wong Urip Urup" could act as a bridge between the relational aspects of collectivism and the need for contribution and positive impact, potentially softening the hindrances to innovation typically associated with collectivist societies. It shows that collectivism, at its best, is not just about preserving tradition but about creating light—living in a way that lifts others.

For now, the debates about collectivism can wait. What lingers is the memory of people who, though not family, became companions in grief. Their quiet presence reminded me that collectivism, at its purest, is about humanity.

Wong Urip Urup—to live is to bring light. These neighbors, these strangers, lived those words. And in doing so, they offered a comfort that innovation and individuality never could. Sometimes, life is not about changing the world but about being there for someone in their darkest moments.

Reflection: Collectivism

As someone who often critiques collectivism for its limitations—particularly its tendency to stifle innovation—I recently experienced a moment that gave me a different perspective. Collectivism, with its emphasis on group harmony and conformity, often discourages individuality and risk-taking, qualities essential for innovation. But in this instance, its essence transformed into something profoundly comforting and deeply human.

That night and morning, I witnessed the living embodiment of "Wong Urip Urup"—to live is to bring light. It was there in Slamet, who cooked for the grieving family without being asked. It was there in the villagers who stayed through the night and returned in the morning, honoring the deceased with their presence. It was there in their stories, revealing the quiet ways the deceased had brought light to others through her generosity.

This practice of communal mourning is echoed worldwide. In the Philippines, the Bayanihan spirit is seen in wakes lasting for days, with neighbors and family staying to comfort the bereaved. Mexico’s velorios bring people together overnight to honor the deceased. Many African and South Asian traditions involve extended gatherings to provide solace through rituals and shared presence. These acts of solidarity show that grief becomes lighter when shared. Across cultures, the instinct to comfort and support transcends differences in religion or geography.

What made this experience even more remarkable was that the deceased had been the only Christian in an RT of 30 families in a village that was otherwise 100% Muslim—100% minus one family. Yet, in this time of loss, the neighbors came without hesitation, offering food, company, and respect that transcended any differences. Their kindness brought to mind the Hebrew proverb:

"Better a neighbor nearby than a relative far away." - Proverbs 27:10

In these moments, collectivism revealed its deeper truth: it is about solidarity, about showing up for one another when it matters most. The same collectivism often criticized for discouraging innovation became a source of profound comfort.

The morning was filled with solemn respect and effortless coexistence, a reflection of a truth often overlooked in broader narratives: differences do not need to divide. In this small village, they didn’t just coexist—they wove together naturally, creating a tapestry of mutual respect. Faith, in its many forms, found its expression in the way these neighbors lived and cared for one another.

Innovation is often associated with individuality and breaking from tradition, yet the solidarity shown that day revealed another path—one rooted in shared purpose and connection. "Wong Urip Urup" teaches that contributing to collective well-being is itself a form of innovation, challenging the notion that progress must always be individualistic or disruptive. By channeling collectivist values of interconnectedness and mutual support into collaboration and problem-solving, communities can foster meaningful change.

This moment reminded me that tradition can be reimagined to inspire creativity and progress, with the collective’s quiet strength illuminating paths to deeply human and innovative change.

REFERENCES:

Tambun, T (2024)., Wong Urip Urup: Transforming collectivism into innovation, The Jakarta Post, https://lnkd.in/d3GPZJuT

APPENDIX:

What being said about collectivism hinder innovation ?

Collectivism can hinder innovation due to several factors rooted in its emphasis on group harmony, conformity, and maintaining established norms. These aspects may limit risk-taking and the exploration of novel ideas, which are often essential for innovation. Key reasons include:

Risk Aversion: In collectivist cultures, the desire to maintain group harmony often discourages individuals from taking risks or proposing ideas that might disrupt the status quo. Innovation inherently involves uncertainty and risk, which may be seen as destabilizing in collectivist environments.

Conformity Pressure: In collectivist societies, there is a strong emphasis on adhering to group norms and expectations. This pressure can stifle creative thinking and discourage individuals from expressing unique or unconventional ideas, as doing so may be perceived as challenging group unity or tradition.

Decision-Making Process: Collectivist cultures often prioritize consensus-based decision-making, which can be slow and may hinder the rapid experimentation and iteration needed for innovation. The process of seeking agreement from all parties can delay the implementation of new ideas.

Hierarchical Structures: Many collectivist societies are also hierarchical, with strong deference to authority. Innovation often requires questioning authority and established processes, but in hierarchical collectivist cultures, this may be seen as disrespectful, thus limiting opportunities for change.

Fear of Failure: In collectivist cultures, failure may be seen as not only a personal issue but one that reflects poorly on the group. This fear of failure can deter individuals from pursuing bold, innovative ideas, as the potential negative consequences for the group may outweigh the potential benefits.

These factors contrast with more individualistic cultures, which often encourage personal initiative, reward risk-taking, and allow for greater autonomy, all of which are conducive to innovation.

Sources:

Hofstede, G. (2001). Culture's Consequences: Comparing Values, Behaviors, Institutions, and Organizations Across Nations.