Tony Sitathan, Jakarta – Idris Kemal, a senior security guard at the famous 1001 Nightclub in the Kota district of West Jakarta, popularly known as Chinatown, has been having restless evenings of late. He listens intently to the evening prayer call followed by the rolling of drums from a mosque nearby symbolizing the end of the fasting day for Ramadan. He starts smoking his Djarum Kretek and signals to his subordinates to have their meal, after the breaking of the day-long fast.
Idris and his fellow security personnel have been briefed by the nightclub owner to keep a watchful eye on the premises, a well-known entertainment complex housing a massage center, karaoke cum disco and a casino. Although, as a sign of respect for Ramadan, it will remain closed until the end of the holy fasting month, there can be no assurance that it will not fall victim to a sudden outbreak of violence.
Ramadan is a month-long fast for Muslims to show repentance for their sins and ask God for forgiveness. It is considered a personal jihad (holy war) for cleansing the body as well as the soul from everyday worldly pleasures. Idris Kemal, however, was worried about a jihad of another kind. "We have to be ready and prepared for any hostile organized groups that will attack our premises. We have a duty to protect and repel any possible attacks from any religious-minded groups, even if it means going against fellow Muslims," he said.
In the past, the Ramadan period in Indonesia has been a hunting ground for several paramilitary-style Islamic groups that try to enforce the Ramadan spirit over nightclubs, public places of entertainment, massage parlors, gaming centers and vice dens. Even restaurants and dining places have been targets of mob attacks during the Ramadan period, causing local residents and tourists alike to fear frequenting these places.
"Two years ago our restaurant, Pasir Putih Seafood Market Grill and Bar in Kemang, was a target for attacks from the Front Pembela Islam [FPI]," recalled a Pasir Puthi assistant food and beverage manager. "There was no real reason for the attack, as we hold only a live band for entertaining our customers and offer food and drinks like any other seafood restaurant. There is hardly even any space for dancing. The damage cost us hundreds of millions of rupiah, and we closed our premises for over three months."
Along the same stretch of road in Kemang lies the Salsa Club, considered the Latin American heartbeat of Jakarta. It has a restaurant, a bar and a place to dance salsa. Patrons can learn the fancy footwork of the salsa from in-house teachers. It's a far cry from the likes of Raja Mas Disco or Stadium Nightclub in West Jakarta, where night revelers have been known to consume boutique drugs and engage in hedonistic practices ranging from personal lap dances to female strippers. But even the Salsa Club has been victimized by mob attacks. The Salsa Club was closed for several months. Now it has shorter opening hours and has considered not offering liquor on its premises during Ramadan. As an added security precaution it has managed to get a police patrol car to be somewhat permanently stationed outside its premises. "Perhaps that would be a good deterrence to people thinking of attacking us," said Daniel, a bouncer and security guard who was formerly a corporal in the Indonesian Armed Forces (TNI).
Radical Islamic groups are found throughout Indonesia, but they seem to be particularly active during Ramadan. Laskar Jihad (Holy War Legion) was active in central Sulawesi and Ambon before it was outlawed by the government. Ja'far Umar Thalib, its leader, was arrested over an incident in Ambon and is in police custody expecting a trial soon.
Another militia group calling itself the Taliban Brigade, though it has nothing to do in reality with the Taliban in Afghanistan, has been terrorizing the province of Tasikmalaya, about 150 kilometers south of Jakarta. It has been fighting for Islamic Shariah laws to be imposed on the local community. Indonesia, being a secular state, has recognized the Panca Sila as the official state ideology, which promises all major faiths equal representation in the country, unlike Shariah, which is based on Islamic laws.
Yet another shadowy group is the Hizbulloh Front, which has an agenda similar to the FPI's. Dressed in ninja-like all-black clothing, this group has been seen countering anti-military and pro-government demonstrations.
However, the most vocal of these organizations is the FPI. It was once part of a government-sponsored civilian security force known as PAM Swakarsa. This unit was formed to fight against student demonstrators opposed to the administration of former president B J Habibie and the military's role in politics. PAM Swakarsa had a special charter at that time to prevent pro-democracy activists from marching to parliament to voice their aspirations.
"The Front Pembela Islam has been more active of late and is seen as a legitimate front for establishing a Shariah state in Indonesia and has been particularly active during the Ramadan period," said a high-ranking member of the Armed Forces Strategic Intelligence Agency (BAIS), which plays a national role in repressing internal security threats and works closely with paramilitary forces. "I wouldn't go too far to say that it is a breeding ground of future anarchists and terrorists."
The FPI was formerly led by a charismatic cleric named Habib Rizieq. Last year after a raid in Jakarta, a warrant for his arrest was issued by the Jakarta police. Despite overt Islamic leanings, many of its members are classified as thugs and preman or street gangsters. Last year when they attacked a pub in Kemang, they not only vandalized the premises but stole cash and wallets from patrons and molested several female patrons.
However, it is not the mindless destruction of public property or the attacks on personal property that cause fear among working-class Indonesians. The fear of bodily harm is paramount for those working in the prostitution and massage businesses. Several of them say they have become prime targets for those involved in the anti-prostitution sweep across Jakarta, which not only threatens their means of livelihood but their personal well-being as well.
Shinta Dewi works in Kartika Chandra, a massage parlor in the heart of Kota. She was afraid to turn up to work during the first two days of Ramadan. "I was afraid that there would be personal attacks from Islamic youth organizations," she said in Bahasa Indonesia, the country's official Malay dialect. "So now we work during the morning hours and leave before midnight. I just don't want to take any chances, especially since I have two little children who depend on me."
When asked why she didn't ask the police for protection, she smiled and said she would rather trust the street hoodlums than the police for her personal safety.