Part 2 of 2 Ngruki: It is school for Islam or terrorism?

Part 2 of 2 Ngruki: It is school for Islam or terrorism?

Noor Huda Ismail, Jakarta

There is no doubt that all the teachers were fiercely for an
Islamic state and the implementation of sharia law. They regarded
the existing secular national law as illegitimate. They refused
the fly Indonesia's red and white flag, and shunned Pancasila --
Indonesia's national philosophy. Their motivation was once again
a Koranic verse that reads, "Whoever doesn't follow God's law is
an infidel."

This anti-nationalism led Ngruki's co-founders, Ba'asyir and
Abdullah Sungkar, to flee into exile in neighboring Malaysia,
where they avoided imprisonment for subversion by Soeharto.

My father did, in fact, find out a lot about life in Ngruki.
He learned that Ngruki, despite its radical slant, produced a
handful of moderate Indonesian Muslims like me. I pray five
times a day, study the Koran and wish to visit Mecca. I work for
the American media, host Jewish-American friends in my home, and
spend Friday nights at a local bar. Most of my fellow graduates
may not be open-minded by Western standards, but they don't
support violence in the name of Islam either. And despite their
occasional narrow vision, many are likely to have succeeded in
the secular, business world.

Why did only some Ngruki alumni take the road to terrorism?

Ngruki teachings proved unrealistic in the real world,
especially the emphasis on the strict interpretation of Islam
that was at complete odds with the environment where we ended up
working. After graduation, I had to obtain a personal ID card
from the government, the same government I was taught to
disregard. I choose to further my study at two government-run
universities, where I had to sing the national anthem and respect
the national flag. All of this was necessary to start a
successful career.

According to my interviews in Arabic and Indonesian with
convinced terrorists from Ngruki, most received military academy
training in the Dar Al Ittihad Al Islamy camp in Afghanistan or
in Camp Hudaibiyah in Moro, the Philippines. They went in the
name of JI and candidly discussed how they killed in the name of
God. They justified their jihad as a revenge for the butchering
of Muslims by infidels such as the U.S. and its allies.

Hasan was among them. When I met with him again last year, the
setting was not a run-down dormitory, but instead an equally
dilapidated Jakarta jail. Hasan's jaw nearly dropped to the floor
when he first saw me. It looked like he wanted to hug me, but he
hesitated and awkwardly opted for a handshake. Other prisoners
must have informed him that his long-lost roommate was now a
special correspondent for the Washington Post journalist, a
position he would deem an extension of the infidels. Hasan is now
a convict, jailed for his involvement in the Bali blast.

We engaged in small talk in Arabic until his comfort level
increased. However, took many meetings spanning two months for us
to return to our previous rapport.

Hasan is the fifth of seven children from a simple peasant
family in a remote Java village. His father sent him to Ngruki
from 1986 to 1989 expecting him to become his village's religious
teacher.

"I have disappointed my father," he said in a solemn voice.
"Instead of being a religious teacher, I'm a terrorist. Now, I am
locked here."

In 1990, under the influence of the emir of JI, Abdullah
Sungkar, he went to Malaysia, Pakistan, Afghanistan and the
Philippines to study a radical strain of Islam and to wage Jihad
as a missionary in Malaysia and Indonesia. Hasan met Sungkar at
Ngruki before Sungkar fled to Malaysia. "He was like a father to
me," said Hasan, who later became a senior JI member.

He was instructed to establish the Hudaibiyah Camp and train
Moro Independent Liberation Front members and JI members.

Sitting cross-legged on his black mattress, Hasan talked sadly
about his wife and his two children who live in an Islamic
boarding school in East Java.

"Each time I think of them, I feel so sad," he said. Hasan
also lived in this school in 2000, and it was there that he met
the Bali bombers, most of whom were Ngruki graduates from
different years. But Hasan sensed the police on his tail, and he
fled on a two-day boat ride to faraway Kalimantan.

Hasan wasn't in jail alone -- he was with other former Ngruki
students; Muhammad Saefudin and Muhammad Rais. Along with
Saefudin and Rais, he met Osama bin Laden in Afghanistan in 2001.

Rais relayed Osama bin Laden's message to Ba'asyir and was
arrested for storing explosive materials used for the Marriott
Hotel bombing, while Saefudin was groomed by JI as its future
leader.

I wondered. If it weren't for my secular roots, would I too
have been with my former classmates behind bars?

The writer is a journalsit and can be reached at
noorhudaismail@yahoo.com.