HUKAMANEWS GreenFaith – As intolerance and ecological crises tear at the fabric of society, Ternate offers the philosophy of Tagilom—walking together across faiths and cultures. The history of the Ternate Sultanate is not just a tale of spices but a legacy of sacred spaces that weave peace.
Hening Parlan, Director of Eco Bhinneka Muhammadiyah and National Coordinator of GreenFaith Indonesia, emphasizes in her writing that mosques, churches, and temples are not walls that separate but bridges that heal collective wounds. From these small steps, Tagilom sparks a great hope: a civilization that is peaceful, just, and sustainable. Here is the full account.
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From Ternate, Tagilom teaches the meaning of walking together: uniting faiths, caring for the earth, and building sustainable peace.
IN A WORLD increasingly fragmented by identity politics, intolerance, and ecological crises, there is a valuable lesson from eastern Indonesia: Tagilom, a local term from Ternate meaning “walking together.” Its significance goes far beyond simply walking side by side. It is a life philosophy—building trust, fostering interfaith solidarity, and nurturing the earth as our shared home.
The long history of the Ternate Sultanate has carried this wisdom for centuries. Founded in 1257, the kingdom was not only a center of the spice trade but also a stronghold against Portuguese, Spanish, and Dutch colonial powers. What often goes unnoticed, however, is Ternate’s role as a hub of peace. From royal palaces to mosques, from historic churches to temples, Ternate’s sacred spaces have long served as places to meet, dialogue, and heal wounds.
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Today, this legacy is being revived through the Eco Bhinneka Muhammadiyah initiative. Guided by the spirit of Tagilom, young people of various faiths plant trees around places of worship, clean rivers, and hold interfaith dialogues. All these activities link ecology with social reconciliation. The message is simple: caring for the earth cannot be separated from caring for human relationships.
For example, St. Willibrordus Church in Ternate, which once served as a refuge during communal conflicts, now spreads a message of love. “There are no winners in conflict; everyone truly loses,” asserts the pastor. Meanwhile, at Thian Hou Kiong Temple, memories of the 1999 conflict are recounted clearly: “At that time, we were protecting our Muslim brothers and sisters.” From these two experiences, we learn that solidarity often emerges when humanity is tested.
This is the face of Indonesia rarely seen on the big political stage: civil society safeguarding a legacy of tolerance, rejecting prejudice, and proving that differences are not reasons to separate, but reasons to walk together.
Yet we must not be trapped in mere romanticism. The challenges are real. Sacred spaces are increasingly being capitalized on, even politicized. Instead of serving as bonds, they are sometimes used as exclusive symbols that exclude. This is where the message of Tagilom feels most relevant: sacred spaces are not walls that divide, but bridges that connect.
The lesson from Ternate is clearly not just for Indonesia. A world increasingly polarized—from the Middle East to Europe to Asia—needs peace laboratories like this. If a church can be a refuge for Muslims, if a temple can embrace others in times of conflict, why are places of worship still so often used as tools of provocation?
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Perhaps the answer is this simple: we have forgotten how to walk together.