East Java, Indonesia. One man is murdered, their homes burnt down and when they
seek protection at a local stadium, food and water supplies are either cut off
or severely restricted. Most Indonesian Muslims are very tolerant of beliefs
between various sects. Jakarta, for example, is safe and one can practice any
faith without fear. Sampang is a stronghold of very radical Wahabees and
Salafees who will not tolerate other sects. Direct orders from the President of
the country to stop these atrocities has had little affect as local authorities
balk at moving against a powerful radical clergy that is set on bloodshed and
insha’Allah; you may find my narrative informative perhaps. All names used in
this narrate are, for obvious reasons, aliases.
Airlines out of Dubai is severely delayed due to thick dessert winter fog so
the eight hour flight has now become almost eleven hours; with almost thirty
hours travel from the US a day earlier, I have begun to loathe airplanes. The
brand new Boeing 777 bumps and bobs through thick dark clouds before breaking
through and landing. Customs and immigration is a breeze; I find the towering
figure of Sheykh Hussein (SH) greet me outside. He drives me to The Grand Melia
hotel as we discuss strategy for aid relief to the besieged Muslims in Sampang.
Born and educated in Iraq, his English is rudimentary, but Kiswahili from a
stint of tableegh in Tanzania is reasonable so we can communicate. SH is unsure
of what to expect once we get there, if the military will allow us to meet the
victims, maybe too dangerous, so they might deny actual meet, but he is certain
we can get relief supplies in; he has good local contacts who are ready to
assist. The Grand Melia, when we do locate it in the concrete jungle of
Jakarta, is a massive place and one can easily get lost in her belly; the rooms
are impeccable and spacious.
reasonably priced by South Asian standards, the hotel’s laundry, food or
telephone prices can easily give Bill Gates severe belly cramps; I avoid them
all. Breakfast next morning is fit enough to serve many kings and their harems,
many times over; I am so perplexed for choice of exotic cuisine, I make many
loops around the tennis court size food court before giving up and settling for
a good old omelet. I sleep again and wake up refreshed enough to run seven
miles at the very modern hotel gym. A sumptuous dinner with others at a nice
restaurant hosted by a Pakistani businessman concludes my day. I am hitting the
bed early; my mission to Sampang begins at six tomorrow morning.
Air takes us to Juanda in Surabaya, E. Java where we meet up with three members
of ABI who have made it their commitment to help the besieged Muslims cope with
the situation. All three speak no English; I am clueless about native Bahasa
Malayu, but all can speak Farsi, which I comprehend. We drive with Habib, Mukhtaar
and Faheem towards the island of Madurai and the village of Sampang. It is a three-hour
maddening drive through heavy traffic; I dose off and on. We stop for salaat
and terrific barbecued fish at a roadside dabba type restaurant. I take out a
sandwich bag full of supaari and offer it to the others; SH recognizes what it
is instantly. Ahaa, poopoo, he says, let me have some. The others try some as
well but make distasteful faces immediately. It tastes like wood, says Habeeb, you are eating wood? I (defensively) assure them it is good for
digestion; they all smile and nod their heads with skeptical, tolerant patience,
not unlike a mother indulging on an insistent child.
is a sleepy village; I see nobody about as we near the small stadium where the
displaced community is housed. The clouds suddenly darken and it starts
pouring. Lo! Does it rain, does it rain! The stadium has tin roof; conversation
is almost impossible. The one hundred sixty odd community members gather to
greet us. There are about a hundred men, each one takes turn hugging and
kissing me three times; when were you kissed and hugged three hundred times?
stadium is divided into a male and female section by a simple curtain. These
people, poor farmers, have lived like this for five months, uprooted from their
ancestral homes and lands. Their homes have been destroyed; razed to the
ground. They have lost all important documents; ID cards, birth certificates,
deeds and titles to their lands and homes, everything. One man is murdered,
another’s stomach slit open, the women harassed and children tormented. What is
their crime? They have converted from mainstream Sunni Muslims to a minority
sect of Shia Islam. Their outraged majority neighbors, influenced and heavily
financed by Wahaabi and Salafist movements from overseas, bribe the Supreme
Council of Ulema in E. Java to declare them heretics. Their leader, Taher Mulk,
is arrested and charged with attempting to preach a ‘deviant’ religion; he gets
a four-year jail term.
are a happy people, generally. They smile and radiate a joyful aura most times;
you cannot but smile back. These particular people have lost their propensity
to smile, the children too. I face a group of unsmiling faces etched with
sorrow when SH thrusts a microphone in my face and orders me to address them.
What can I say? I tell them I come with greetings, prayers, care and concern of
their global brothers in faith, of whatever support we can muster. A couple of
men begin weeping, which makes me miserable so I abruptly conclude. I survey an
‘abode’ in disarray; washed clothes hanging everywhere, doused cooking fires, strewn
personal belongings in heaps, dirty bedding… There are widespread diseases,
especially among children, one with typhoid. Children have severe rashes from
reused clothes diapers un-hygienically laundered, non-balanced diet of mostly
line forms, men with bottles of water, all request SH, a ulema by profession,
to recite duas and blow on the water. I meet the mother and wife of imprisoned
Mulk, the widow of murdered man, the knifed man who shows me his gruesome injuries
on his stomach…I have very little I can say; I hope my facial emotions will
do the talking. There is a group of youngsters in this community who swear they
will not go back on their newfound religion and adamant they will return to
their lands if the government will not intervene, even if it means bloodshed or
death. I meet Nusrat HM, a Shia-convert Malaysian, UK based filmmaker and
writer who is attempting to make a film on this situation. She strongly
advocates a massive worldwide petition to the Indonesian government to change
her political inaction; that is the only way to resolve this issue peacefully;
else there will be bloodshed. I inform her this has already been done but she says
it is not enough; we need a minimum half million signatories, with many
countries participating. This she says, will kick start the government into
fair action. Since the downpour is not letting up, we make a dash to the car,
but not before three hundred hugs, kisses and almost sixty minutes later.
put up at an apartment hotel in Surabaya where we discuss aid strategy over
dinner. Indonesians, like most SE Asians consume tons of rice, a must at every
meal. They also smoke away like a runaway locomotive; acrid plume of robust
clove tobacco that permeates through skin pores, detectable enough in pee. I
mean everybody puffs away; perhaps this is the only way to let off building
donors, with active support, notably from BETA Charitable Trust in the UK decides
on following three month aid package:
doctor to visit the stadium every week.
meal supplement per day, including fruits and vegetables.
meal supplement per day for school going children who live with relatives or
friends outside the stadium.
supplies, three per infant per day.
hospitalization for Ali Akber, the infant with typhoid.
card replacement so they can eventually proceed to reclaim lost property.
aid package is about US$25,000; you may want to pitch in?
my eyes are drooping as it is past midnight, I say my goodbyes and hit the
very tired, I am unable to sleep, perhaps an omen of disappointments that await
my day ahead. I am up at three, typing this urgent report. Eyes smarting from
lack of sleep, I eat breakfast, keenly anticipating a meeting with Taher Mulk
in his prison cell later today; ABI members have promised a robust attempt,
sure a modest facilitation fee to the prison officer will do the trick. But it
is not to be; the officer has taken his Sunday off and all attempts to get his
junior to agree for a meet are bitter disappointments. We return to Jakarta in
needs your help in a petition drive. Please, please, pretty please:
Mail, fax, email the following petition to the nearest Indonesian Embassy /
request, cajole, beg or force your friends and family to do this as well.
this appeal to everybody else you know who may not be on my mailing list,
Muslims, non-Muslims, atheists…; this is a humanitarian issue that all humans
can relate to.
Please get your local communities involved (jamaats, centers, mosques; WF,
NASIMCO and COEJ perhaps?), all over the globe, wherever this Blog reaches. We
are a minimum three hundred million strong assembly of Ahlel Beyt (A); half
million signatories should not be an issue insha’Allah.
This issue may not be your priority or passion perhaps and that’s okay. But if
we let these forces of intolerance win, I despair what can be possible in rest
of Indonesia, once a bastion of tolerance and love, even, towards Ahlel Beyt
click here to view few photos of my Indonesia visit.
is the petition:
the displaced Shia community in Sampang, E. Java. We call on your country to:
n To ensure the displaced
Shi’a community has immediate access to essential services such as food and
clean drinking water in their shelter;
n To guarantee the safe,
voluntary and dignified return of the Shi’a community to their homes, according
to their wishes, and to provide assistance so as to enable them to rebuild the
homes that were damaged or destroyed;
n To investigate reports that
the local government authorities in Sampang District have been involved in the
intimidation of Shi’a followers to renounce their faith;
n To ensure all those involved
in the attack against the Shi’a community are speedily brought to justice in
proceedings which meet international standards of fairness and that victims are
simply click here to sign the petition.
emails you can use:
of Indonesia – firstname.lastname@example.org
USA – email@example.com
rep to UN – firstname.lastname@example.org
realize similar petitions have been made before but we need an overwhelming,
sustained one. I have promised this community I would make this attempt for
them; they are hopeful, patient. But they will resort to forceful return home
if everything else fails; this will invite violence. All I need for you make an
attempt – that is all that Allah requires from us, He will take care of the
rest. This community is desperate and hope is their only viable current option.
is living with them.