Is one beer, one too many on Jl. Jaksa?

The music is playing loud in the background, while backpackers drink beer and prostitutes eye them up. Every night with the precision of a Swiss watch Jl. Jaksa comes to life.

Less than 500-meters long, Jl. Jaksa is the pulsating center for the low-budget western travelers, and a good starting point for those in search of excess.

Drinks are cheap, drugs are easily available and girls are affordable.

Jl. Jaksa is by no means an isolated case. More and more areas of Jakarta -- answering to the simple economic law of demand and supply -- offer the same sort of services.

The openness of it all -- in the world's largest Muslim country -- is, for some a bitter pill to swallow.

The clash of these two worlds -- unable to find common ground -- breeds tension beneath the surface. The boiling point is seldom reached, but the water sometimes spills over, reminding everybody that the differences are here to stay.

One of the groups that vented its anger was the Islam Defenders Front (FPI) on June 26. Beer signs were broken and bottles were smashed along Jl. Jaksa. The message, not the first of its kind, was strong and clear but no result was achieved. The same evening Jl. Jaksa was in full swing with the usual buzz of activities taking place.

FPI chairman Habib Mohammad Rizieq lists his groups concerns with passion and charisma: "Muslim or non-Muslim have no right to behave obscenely in public. Privately they can do whatever they want, but in public it is an offense to the community."

Such a private-public concept -- in regard to drinking and chatting girls up -- is strange to most Westerners as well as to a large number of Indonesians.

On Jl. Jaksa, local residents defend their right to work and choose the way to lead their lives, while foreigners are almost bemused: "We are only here to have a drink. We are not doing anything against the law," says Paul of England. "I don't know what the fuss is all about".

Under Indonesian law, drinking in public is allowed. The only "gray area" follows a Presidential Decree, which stipulates that during the holy fasting month of Ramadhan public outlets should comply with religious norms. Prostitution follows the same pattern. The only activity forbidden by law is pimping.

But Rizieq has no doubts. To him civil law is subordinate to religious law: "Islam is a universal religion, which includes every aspect of life. Islam has rules dealing with religion as well as the economy, society and politics. There isn't a demarcation line between the Koran and the legal system or even national politics. These are only small areas under Islam."

But even legally he feels he is on the right side of the barricade "according to Law 9/90 on tourism which states that public sites shall not contravene the religious values and customs and culture and environment. Jl. Jaksa and the like are contravening it."

The police give mixed messages. While publicly stating that the FPI cannot take the law into their own hands, they fail to act when they do.

"I cannot understand why the police didn't stop them," says Paul, referring to the June 26 incident. "They were there watching but doing nothing, while they were smashing things and brandishing sticks."

Differences are acute and the gap is difficult to close. Tourism is growing fast, becoming one of the main industries in Indonesia. Travelers will find difficulties in accepting dry holiday resorts. The revenue generated by the service sector, where alcohol is sold, is an important entry in the nation's balance book. It is unlikely that the government will do a U-turn on this.

Prostitution is a social phenomenon with roots in the local culture and in the colonial history, and in today's economic crisis it finds a fertile breeding ground. A reduction of the problem in the short term seems, at the very least, unrealistic.

Tourists will keep flocking to Jakarta and the rest of Indonesia, taking advantage of what is on offer. The law seems to be on their side even if Rizieq -- with his usual fervor and passion -- interprets it in such a way as to justify the FPI using any means necessary to fight for what they believe in. Article 30 of the Indonesian Constitution says that every citizen should defend their country if attacked.

Westerners abroad often behave much worse than they do at home. In a place like Southeast Asia, mainly due to the sex industry, this attitude is amplified. But what we see here is not representative of the West's culture.

Yet Rizieq believes what he sees, and it is not pretty. On this basis he thinks the West's influence in Indonesia is a feasible enemy to fight: "Our country is being attacked by ecstasy, alcohol and prostitution and, by law, we have the obligation to defend it."

But again, to Rizieq, the law plays second fiddle to religion. His total commitment to Islam leaves him no option but to continue his holy war: "According to the Koran, if obscenities and sinful actions take place in public and we don't intervene we are deemed sinners ourselves, and we shall suffer from the punishment of God. The FPI will never lay down." And the water keeps on simmering...

-- Fabio Scarpello