Understanding the tragedy beyond al-Qaeda and Bush's 'war on terror'
Thomas Reuter
Shortly before midnight on Saturday, 12 October 2002 a devastating attack was launched at the beachside town of Kuta
on the island of Bali. Two bombs exploded in quick succession in
Paddy's Irish Pub and outside the Sari Club. The blast and subsequent
fires left more than 190 people dead and several hundred injured, most of them young holiday-makers from Australia and other Western countries.
Mainstream media reports quickly pointed the finger of blame at the international terrorist network al-Qaeda
and its local operatives. Little attention was given to the national
let alone local socio-political context in which this attack took
place. Attacks of a similar kind, if not scope, have occurred with increasing regularity since the collapse of Suharto's military dictatorship in 1998.
As a consequence, the tragedy of October 12 was co-opted prematurely
and uncritically into the global political agenda and rhetorical
paradigm of the United States government's 'War on Terror'.
National context
The task of addressing the issue of terrorism, or
of assessing whether or not the Indonesian and Western governments are
addressing it appropriately on our behalf, is made difficult by the
secret nature of terrorist and counter-terrorist operations. At the
time of writing (late October), no verifiable evidence of al-Qaeda involvement in the Bali attack has been made available to the public.
Even when it comes to the general question of al-Qaeda's presence in Southeast Asia, the evidence is scanty and often impossible to verify. On 15 September 2002, for example, Time Magazine claimed to have seen 'secret CIA documents' stating that the Kuwaiti militant and alleged al-Qaeda operative, Omar al-Faruq,
recently arrested in Indonesia and delivered to the US military, had
confessed to the CIA, perhaps under torture, how he had been ordered to
coordinate a series of attacks on US and other foreign interests in
Southeast Asia. Many Indonesians do not accept the claims based on such
intelligence leaks, not surprisingly given that the US government by
its own admission considers it legitimate to spread misinformation for
strategic purposes.
Al-Qaeda should not be
considered as a singular organisation with an international agenda and
a central authority. It is able to maintain a power base in numerous
parts of the world because it is a network of rather loosely affiliated
national or local extremist groups. What needs to be explored are the
reasons for its successful expansion into countries like Indonesia and
Malaysia, where the vast majority of Muslims have been consistently
classified as moderates by generations of Western scholars.
While a unitary organisation's
expansion conceivably can be halted by pursuing a smallish group of key
culprits through intelligence or military operations, a bottom-up
process can be expected to self-perpetuate unless underlying political
and socio-economic causes are removed. The implications for foreign
policy are serious and far-reaching.
This is not to deny that an internationalisation
of terrorism has been taking place. Radical Islamic groups in Indonesia
have had international links for at least two decades. The now-infamous
leader of Majelis Mujahidin Indonesia (MMI, Council of Indonesian Mujahideen), Ba'asyir
and many of his closest associates had established such links on their
own initiative after having participated in the armed struggle against
the Soviet occupation in Afghanistan during the 1980s, a struggle for
which the US was the major backer. The Iranian revolution of 1979 was
also a watershed in that it provided the model case for establishing an
Islamic state. Nevertheless, the main focus of political consciousness
among such groups has been the Indonesian state itself.
It may be safe to assume that a network of radical
Islamic groups with international links is present in Indonesia today,
and that elements in some of these groups at least are willing to use
terrorism as a political tool - with or without help from their
affiliates and donors abroad. The political ambitions of these radicals
most likely are still focused firmly on national objectives, even
though their discourse may reflect an international rhetoric of
fighting for the glory of Islam and against the great Satan America.
The problem in allocating blame for the Bali blast is that radical Islamic groups like Jemaah Islamiyah
are not the only groups in Indonesia today who may be willing and
capable of committing or supporting acts of terrorism. There are many
causes and perpetrators of violence in contemporary Indonesia.
Inter-religious conflicts, vigilante-style killings of petty criminals
and other undesirables, institutionalised
protection and extortion rackets, and the alarming spread of
paramilitary groups are all part of this phenomenon. Different groups
even within the government's own security forces have been fighting
turf wars. This diffusion of violence makes it difficult to pinpoint a
single person or group as the likely perpetrators in any particular
case.
Balinese context
In Bali itself, there has been increasing tension between Hindu Balinese and Muslim labour migrants from neighbouring islands. Many fear this wave of spontaneous immigration could marginalise
the Balinese as an ethnic and religious minority on their own island,
as has been the fate of other peoples in the outer islands. More
immediately, however, the problem is one of competition for jobs, and
also social envy. Some of the migrants are not economic refugees at
all, but wealthy Javanese investors who have established major
businesses in Bali, ranging from hotels and restaurants to taxi
companies.
As early as April 1999 there have been violent
attacks on Javanese street sellers. Several Javanese informants
residing in Bali told me only a few weeks before the attacks how they
no longer dared to be seen outdoors after 10pm for fear of being
abducted and murdered, following threats and a spate of mysterious
disappearances in their circle of friends and acquaintances. In turn,
my Balinese informants told me that the Java-based Laskar
Jihad (LJ, 'Holy Warriors') had begun to build a presence especially in
northern Bali, allegedly to 'protect our down-trodden Muslim brothers
in Bali' (from an undated LJ propaganda pamphlet distributed in Central
Java in late 2001). Days after the Bali blast, this militant group
disbanded or went underground, depending on how one chooses to look at
it. LJ, in any case, has rarely acted on its own. In Aceh, Ambon
and West Papua, for example, the group appears to have enjoyed
extremely cordial relations with the army, and there is wide
speculation that LJ has been encouraged to cause trouble in order to
maintain a sense of crisis throughout the country.
In recent years, the Balinese have also responded to a number of serious security issues in relation to organised crime. My informants claim that the illegal drug trade, prostitution as well as extortion rackets, particularly in Kuta and Sanur, are firmly in the hands of immigrants, who are in turn protected by elements within the official security forces. In Sanur, for example, traditional Balinese community organisations
have been fighting a pitched battle against the prostitution industry
and its patrons. Note in this context that the main reason why the
destroyed Sari Club had a policy of barring entry to Indonesians was to
keep out sex workers, who had already swamped and changed the character
of most other major bars and nightclubs in the area.
A key indicator of the state of the tourism
industry, Bali's hotel occupancy rate had dropped from over 70 % before
the attack to just 5 % by 29 October. This shows that that the main
losers in the attack on Bali, apart from the victims themselves and
their families, are the island's residents, irrespective of whether or
not they are ethnically Balinese. The Hindu Balinese majority seem to
have realised this and, until now, have shown restraint by not lashing out at Muslim immigrants in their midst.
Already destabilised
by the attack, President Megawati has been under enormous pressure from
Washington to take stern measures against terrorists. How is she to do
this without the military, or with it, given that it is widely
suspected in Indonesia that the military could have been implicated in
the attack? Are the Indonesian police and intelligence up to the task?
Could wanton arrests trigger a Muslim backlash? We may have to be
patient. Too much pressure now could help to derail Indonesia's
emergent democracy. The US and Australia, considering their interests
in Indonesia now, should be aware of this peril. We should move forward
by supporting the reform of the Indonesian military and the engagement
of the mass of Muslim Indonesians in the democratic process. ii
Thomas Reuter (thomasr@unimelb.edu.au)
is a Queen Elizabeth II Research Fellow of the Australian Research
Council, located at the School of Anthropology, Geography &
Environmental Studies, The University of Melbourne.
Inside Indonesia 73: Jan-Mar 2003
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