Washington Report on Middle East Affairs, October 2003, pages
36-37
Islam and the Mideast in the Far East
Conviction of Balinese Bomber Amrozi Recalls Rabin Assassin
Yigal Amir
By John Gee
Amrozi Nurhasyim, the first of the Bali bombers to be captured
and tried, was convicted for his role in the murder of 202 people
and sentenced to death on Aug. 7. It is not certain, however, when
or even if he will face a firing squad: it is not uncommon for Indonesians
convicted of offenses carrying capital punishment to wait a decade
and more before being executed. Amrozi is reported to welcome the
prospect of "martyrdom," but years spent cooling his heels
in prison while the world moves on may take away its appeal.
Amrozi wore an inane grin when he was first paraded in front of
the press, and he was wearing the same grin when he was sentenced
to death. His look was reminiscent of that on the face of another
killer half a world away: Yigal Amir, the law student who assassinated
Israeli Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin on Nov. 4, 1995, also wore
a silly grin during his public appearances following his arrest.
But more than an expression links the two men. Though coming from
different religious backgrounds, they are united by an outlook.
The grin comes from their absolute assurance that they are right
and that they have their vindication in their professed religious
belief. Amir could disregard the civil law of the State of Israel
and kill its political leader because he believed that Jewish religious
law has a higher value and that it mandated that Rabin should be
killed because he endangered Jewish lives. Amrozi and his co-conspirators
think that Islamic law takes precedence over that of the Indonesian
state and that it obliges them to murder those they perceive as
enemies in furtherance of a higher good.
In both cases, the killers were nurtured in an artificial environment
of religious extremism, comparable to that of cults that do all
they can to ensure that the minds of their devotees are monopolized
by their prescribed views. Amir was educated in Israel's religious
school system and attended the religious Bar Ilan University. These
are breeding places of extreme nationalism, with a religious coloring.
From this environment sprang the rabbis who gave the religious opinion
that Rabin and Peres were deserving of the fate of a rodef (one
pursuing Jews) or a moser (one who hands over Jews to non-Jews),
upon which Amir based his claim to religious support. His closest
companions were West Bank settlers and their supporters. As a young
man, Amrozi's main interests were girls and his motorbike, but he
later became religious.
That much is not unusual in Indonesia, but Amrozi attended a Javanese
religious school established by Abu Bakar Bashir, now accused of
being the intellectual leader of the Jemaah Islamiah terrorist group.
From there, he went to Ulu Tiram in Malaysia from 1992 to 1995,
taking Qur'an classes conducted by Bashir, who had fled Indonesia.
Upon his return home, Amrozi chose to associate largely with people
who shared his newfound extremist perspective.
It is not known whether Amrozi shares Amir's delusion that his
action had the overwhelming support of public opinion in his country,
and that he was striking a blow for them, as well as for God, but
he certainly partakes of Amir's belief that he will inspire others:
"I'll be happy to die a martyr," he said when facing judgment.
"After me, there will be a million more Amrozis."
But he's wrong. While there will be those who choose to imitate
him, the overall impact of the Bali bombing and a number of other
attacks ascribed to the Jemaah Islamiah (JI) network in recent months
has undermined the organization's goal of establishing an Islamic
state in the predominantly Muslim areas of Southeast Asia (Brunei,
Malaysia, Indonesia, southern Thailand, and the southern Philippines).
The uncovering of the network and its ties to al-Qaeda encouraged
greater regional co-operation between the security forces of the
states in the region. The biggest change occured in Indonesia, where
the government long had denied that a JI terrorist network existed,
leaving its supporters to recruit and train with impunity. The Bali
blast led to an abrupt about-face, with anti-terrorist legislation
rushed through and a determined police drive to round up the perpetrators
and their associates.
More significantly for the long term, the Indonesian authorities'
moves were made in the context of widespread public condemnation
of the Bali bombing and other JI attacks. All the major Muslim organizations
in the country, as well as non-religious bodies and parties, condemned
them. Among activists who have pushed for wider application of Islamic
law, there is a feeling that their cause has been harmed: even though
they are not organizationally tied to the JI terrorist network,
there is a "guilt by association" effect.
The Aug. 5 bomb attack on the Jakarta Marriott merely emphasized
the division between the JI and the vast majority of Indonesian
Muslims. There was speculation in the media that the attack was
timed to come just before the verdict on Amrozi was delivered, as
a pre-emptive retaliatory action. On the face of it, this was a
blow against a symbol of U.S. global business power, but of the
10 people confirmed as having been killed in the blast, nine were
poor Indonesians. Four were taxi-drivers, waiting to pick up fares:
each had young children to support. Others were incapacitated by
injury.
The Indonesian economy had been performing well in the months
leading up to the bombing—although quite why is something
of a mystery. Following the Jakarta Marriott attack, there were
fears that an economic setback would ensue, which also would fall
hardest upon Indonesia's poor.
Amrozi might yet have the grin wiped off his face when he sees
how the actions he and his associates have carried out backfire
and lead to them being isolated and defeated. Amir, unfortunately,
still has plenty to smile about: the settlers whose cause he espoused
still sit upon occupied Palestinian land, their interests defended
by a government composed mainly of political leaders who could not
stomach the limited concessions Rabin made to the Palestinians while
he was alive. Meanwhile, Israel's chief supporter—Washington—has
yet to show that it is ready to put decisive pressure upon the Jewish
state to withdraw—in contrast to the attitude it showed toward
Indonesia when its government was still dilly-dallying over combatting
terrorists organizing within its borders.
An East Asian Casualty
The war on Iraq has had many consequences that its architects and
supporters did not anticipate. By pushing for international backing
for the war in the teeth of public opposition, the Bush and Blair
administrations widened breeches in many countries between democratically
elected governments and citizens sick of unaccountable politicians
who do what they choose irrespective of their peoples' will. American
neoconservatives, who supposedly favor democratization worldwide,
thus pursued a course in furtherance of their goals in Iraq which
encouraged disenchantment with the process of democratic government
in places where it already exists.
In East Asia, one consequence of the war has been the subversion
of the Japanese constitution. It was adopted when Japan was still
under U.S. occupation following the Second World War. Article IX
renounced war as a "sovereign right of the nation" and
pledged that Japan would never maintain "land, sea and air
forces, as well as other war potential." The intention was
to reassure other countries—not least neighboring Korea and
China—that Japan had turned its back on the militarism which
had led its army into occupying the former and waging a long and
bitter war to impose its rule on the latter. In the entire course
of the Sino-Japanese war, as many as 30 million Chinese may have
died, thus making China's losses even greater than those of the
Soviet Union between 1941 and 1945.
The "pacifist constitution" was diluted, in effect,
following the restoration of Japan's sovereignty in 1952. A Defense
Agency was established, but its armed personnel were still meant
to serve only in the direct defense of Japan. Although relations
with China and South Korea were sometimes prickly, those countries
were reassured to a large extent that Japan did not pose a military
threat to them. For its part, Japan benefitted by keeping its military
spending to 1 percent of its GNP, relying chiefly on the U.S. for
its defense. Such was the growth of the Japanese economy over the
next 50 years that that 1 percent could pay for a highly efficient
and well-armed force.
The low-level war in Iraq that continued after President George
W. Bush announced the end of major hostilities May 1 impelled Washington
to seek to share the burden of occupation. Prime Minister Junichiro
Koizumi saw advantages in pushing for Japanese troops to be sent
to Iraq: the move would certainly be welcomed in Washington, but
it also would open the way to further overseas deployments in the
future. After heated debate—not to mention fisticuffs—a
bill to allow the sending of Japanese troops for non-combat duties
in Iraq was passed through parliament. Defense Agency officials
already had said that they were considering running Arabic-language
statements on television and radio stations available in Iraq to
try to win Iraqi sympathy for the deployment of Japanese troops.
The government is worried that, if there are Japanese casualties
in Iraq, it will rebound very badly for it.
Korean and Chinese fears of Japanese militarism may seem to be
exaggerated and unwarranted, but they are nonetheless real. The
Bush administration's determination to go to war in Iraq may thus
have indirectly contributed to a heightening of tensions in East
Asia.
Tempting Fate?
Over in Singapore, we get the television show "Smallville,"
about Superman's teen-age years, later than Americans, of course.
I was a little surprised recently to find myself viewing an episode
that came close to home. In "Visage," Lana Lang's ex-boyfriend,
who left Smallville to join the army, is seen on patrol in a foreign
land. His unit comes under fire and he is cut down by an explosion.
According to the subtitles, he is in Aceh, in Indonesia.
OK: I shouldn't take this too seriously, but why, even in "Smallville,"
send U.S. soldiers to fight in Aceh?
John Gee, a free-lance journalist based in Singapore, is the
author of Unequal Conflict: the Palestinians and Israel, available
from the AET Book Club. |