The Fifth Season (38 page)

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Authors: Kerry B. Collison

Tags: #Fiction

BOOK: The Fifth Season
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Within weeks, the
Mufti Muharam
coffers started to suffer, a direct result of the President's untimely statement. Until placated, Osama bin Ladam had threatened to withdraw his support for the Indonesian movement, resulting in Haji Abdul Muis reconsidering his own strategies. He used the labor movement to further consolidate his position, then crippled the country's economy through prolonged strikes. The labor movement demanded representation and, supported by Abdul Muis' massive following, the world listened.

Under pressure from the international monetary bodies the government had finally bowed to their many requests to hold a full election for both Houses of Parliament which resulted in a stalemate between the
Mufti Muharam
Moslem Party and the Indonesian Armed Forces. When counting had been completed it was evident that the Moslem factions had performed even better than predicted by international analysts and had clearly won government. Rules governing the electoral processes were hurriedly amended. All of the minority parties were abolished, the justification being that their presence would only contribute to further instability. The two major parties,
Mufti Muharam,
and the reformed
Perkumpulan Karyawan
or
Perkarya Party
as it was known, each received an allocation of those votes previously awarded to the minority parties.

The threat of the world's fourth largest population being governed by hard-line extremists was unacceptable to the West, and General Winarko was given the nod to initiate whatever action was necessary to prevent Haji Abdul Muis from becoming the nation's fourth President. Before the two Houses could meet to elect the country's new President, the ABRI leadership cried foul insisting that the results were not consistent with the will of the people, and accused the Moslem politicians of vote-tampering.

The situation had become tense. General Winarko acknowledged that his troops would be reluctant to shoot upon those who shared common religious beliefs, and a compromise was reached which promised but a brief respite, from what would ultimately be a Moslem challenge to assume government control. Abdul Muis recognized the stalemate, accepting that he would need more time to arm if he were to succeed. He knew that serving members of the military who shared his faith would be unlikely to break ranks and follow his lead. Although Moslem, he realized that the soldiers were more likely to remain loyal to the military, as all of the ABRI leadership was now Moslem.

L.B. Hababli, indecisive at best, became confused as to which faction he should support. At first it appeared that the military would object to his remaining at the nation's helm as its titular head, but then General Winarko acquiesced, his reasons based on sound financial considerations.

Although Hababli had managed to keep his sticky fingers in the till, extracting desperately needed dollars from the nation's treasury, Indonesia was, nevertheless, still theoretically bankrupt. The external flow of capital had all but ceased, and there had been no significant foreign investment enter the country since Suhapto stepped down. The Chinese still refused to return, tagging the recently-issued anti-discriminatory decrees as ineffective, and incapable of guaranteeing their safety.

The bulk of the Suhapto and Hababli fortunes remained untouched, in international vaults. The Indonesian Government had been unsuccessful in its attempts to access the billions these two Presidents and their families had ripped out of the economy. General Winarko had insisted that travel restrictions remain on the late President's family hoping that they would soon tire and negotiate some form of settlement. There was very little left to milk from the economy and, with both the World Bank and IMF watching closely, opportunities to manipulate government funding and contracts had become rare.

Abdul Muis had accepted the Vice Presidency to avoid any further acrimony between the military and his powerful following. But he did so knowing that Winarko's American allies would not have hesitated in having him killed had he refused. But he was not satisfied with the status quo, deciding to generate a Moslem ground-swell which even ABRI could not ignore, and in so doing totally eradicate all signs of Christianity throughout the country.

Abdul Muis decided that he would lead his people, if not as their President, then as their spiritual and religious leader, believing that he would only achieve his dreams by avoiding, at least for the time being, any direct confrontation with Jakarta's generals. His ground-swell would commence in the east of the densely populated island of one hundred million, and continue to grow as its massive wave flooded across Java to Jakarta sweeping all in its path. Resistance in the capital would crumble and he would fulfill his destiny to lead Indonesia, proclaiming the nation as an Islamic state.

In the weeks that followed his appointment as Vice President a further eighty-five churches were burned to the ground throughout Java and the island's twenty million Christians and Buddhists feared for their lives. There were many deaths associated with the sectarian violence but none were reported in the domestic press. It was then that the Jakarta-based student revolt had resulted in the destruction of the national Parliament. Hababli's imposed curfew and declaration of military rule had endeared him to none, and Abdul Muis had seized this opportunity to make his move.

As Abdul Muis traveled through Java his popularity grew even more, reaching its zenith when he addressed his home-town crowd of two million in the island's eastern capital of Surabaya. Now, as he stood facing his followers, he knew that the time had arrived to commit publicly to the path which would lead to the realization of his dreams. He cleared his voice and leaned closer to the microphone.

‘Years ago, when I first assumed the leadership of the Mufti Muharam there
were those who scoffed at our dreams. Some even suggested that it would be
madness to consider that Indonesia could ever become an Islamic state.'
The crowd responded, sections of the large gathering demonstrating their dis-pleasure with those who had disbelieved.

‘Today, in your presence,'
he continued, his voice louder than before,
‘I
declare Surabaya as the seat of government for the Islamic State of Indonesia!'

The multitude greeted this news with another roar, the historic moment captured live by the international media. A group of Western observers who had been invited from the local consulate corps glanced at each other with surprise written clearly across their faces as Abdul Muis' speech was interpreted for them.

‘Today, also, I officially announce that I have resigned as the so-called
Vice President of the illegal government, recently formed and controlled by an
American-sponsored military, in Jakarta.'
Again, the crowd cheered with pleasure. Because of deep-rooted cultural differences, the East Javanese despised those who lived at the Western end of their small island. Chanting Abdul Muis' name, a group towards the center of the crowd started to sway, then shuffle in a clockwise direction.

‘Abdul Muis, Abdul Muis,'
they sang, momentum building as the swirling mass moved together, the scene reminiscent of the huge numbers which gathered in Mecca during the holy pilgrimage month.

‘Abdul Muis, Abdul Muis,'
the thunderous chanting continued, as voices became hoarse, and dust rose to cover the amazing spectacle. As the sea of white moved before him his eyes filled with tears and Abdul Muis realized the first step in his dream of an Islamic state with Surabaya as its capital.

Down below, struggling to escape being trampled, Mary Jo Hunter dragged her assistant Anne towards the closest exit. They pushed and shoved against the over-excited, now uncontrollable mass, finally breaking through and making their way outside where the spectacle was not much different. The possibility that they could easily be trampled to death, should they linger, spurred them on. Although Mary Jo's long strides made it more difficult for the shorter woman to keep pace, Anne hurried to keep up, driven by the fear that the crowd's mood could easily turn ugly, and her American friend targeted by extremists present.

As they continued through the packed fields surrounding the stadium it seemed that the human mass would never end. Exhausted, their hearts beating rapidly, with saturated stained clothes clinging to their backs, the two women managed to find their way back to the hotel. Mary Jo filed her story with New York, alerting the world to Haji Abdul Muis' declaration, and the creation of the world's largest Islamic state. The next day she was granted an interview with the powerful religious leader.

* * * *

Anne had reminded Mary Jo how she should behave when first introduced to the mullah. Word had been sent that she was to come unaccompanied, as the Haji was fluent in many languages the assistance of an interpreter would therefore not be required. Abdul Muis' aide ushered Mary Jo into his presence, then left to conduct her interview alone in the magnificently decorated room.

Golden, hand-woven strands worked into the delicately embroi-dered wall-hanging glittered under natural light, falling through the mosque-shaped dome directly overhead. The Birds of Paradise depicted in the intricate work glistened, coming alive as Mary Jo moved her head mesmerized by the handicraft's beauty. She could hear children's voices somewhere nearby, their soft, melancholic chants drifting through the garden, as they continued to pray. The heavy, wooded-scent of sandalwood hung in the air, the atmosphere reminiscent of another world, one filled with tranquillity and order.

Mary Jo smiled, but did not extend her hand. Instead, she clasped both together as if in prayer, then bowed her head politely, waiting for Haji Abdul Muis' response. Delighted with the supplication, he returned her smile, graciously directing her to sit with a wave of his hand.

Mary Jo observed how he was dressed, inwardly smiling at the costume he wore. Gone were the Western clothes he had worn in the past, now replaced with long flowing robes, reminiscent, she thought, of paintings of historic figures such as General Diponegoro she had seen hanging in the national museum. His feet were clad in sandals; expensive, leather, hand-made sandals, partly covered by a long black and golden robe. A lightweight matching scarf hung casually around his neck, and the
Ulama
wore the traditional white rolled turban, as a sign of his position.

‘You have lived in Indonesia for two years?' Muis asked, already aware of the answer to his question. The
Mufti Muharam
had an efficient intelligence service, most of the information regarding the American had been gleaned from her documents while registering at the hotel.

‘Yes,
Pak Haji,'
she replied respectfully.

‘And you enjoy my country?' he asked, and Mary Jo was certain she detected a twinkle in his eye.

‘Of course,' she replied, suspecting he would know this to be untrue.

‘But when your work is finished here, you will leave?'

‘Yes,' she answered, recognizing Muis' attempt to deliberately place her on the defensive. ‘but with a heavy heart.'

‘Ah, yes,' he rejoined, pleased that she knew how to play the game, ‘one must always follow one's heart.' Mary Jo smiled again, totally at ease with Muis leading the conversation. ‘Are you married?'

‘No, not yet,' she said, remembering that Indonesians rarely responded with the definitive ‘no'.

‘Then perhaps you will find someone while you're here,' he suggested.

‘Now, should we commence?' Mary Jo placed her recorder between them, and went directly into the interview, starting with his family and schooling for background, surprised with his candor when recalling the bitter period surrounding the loss of his family. Muis required no prompting, obviously comfortable with the opportunity to provide the Western press with an accurate account of his childhood, and the events which had shaped his thinking. When he finished, Mary Jo changed tapes and, concerned that they would run out of time, asked the questions which were foremost on the international community's mind.

‘Pak Haji, is the
Mufti Muharam
related in any way with Osama bin Ladam's terrorist organization?' Indonesia's Muis cocked his head, and answered.

‘Yes, but they are not terrorists.'

‘In what way do the two parties cooperate,' Mary Jo ignored his objection.

‘We are both determined to prevent further injustices by the Americans and their allies against Moslem nations.'

‘Injustices?

‘Yes. Acts of aggression, such as we have seen over the past twenty years.

The Americans think they rule the world. They are mistaken. Do you know how many world citizens now follow the teachings of the Prophet Mohammed? No? I will tell you. There are more than one billion people who have embraced Islam. We are a formidable power, and the United States and her allies would do well to remember that.' Mary Jo noted that with the rhetoric, Muis remained calm, his voice modulated, and calm.

‘In what form does this cooperation take place?' she tried again, resisting the temptation to sit back and cross her legs in front of this man.

‘We work together for the common good of Islam,' he said.

‘When the
Mufti Muharam
attacks churches, Christians and Chinese, do they do this with your blessing?' Mary Jo asked, aware that the question was provocative. She watched Muis' eyes closely, searching for the truth in his answer.

‘Islam is a tolerant faith. We are not responsible for the ethnic violence.'

‘And the religious violence?'

‘There are extremists in every organization. I cannot control them all.'

‘Then you agree that there are those within your own following who are responsible for the destruction of churches and temples?'

‘No. Those were the actions of marauding gangs, not religious zealots.'

‘Then how do you account for the eye-witness reports that
Mufti
Muharam
have systematically burned churches and homes belonging to the Christians?' she persisted. Muis' eyes narrowed, and Mary Jo felt a chill of fear, wondering if she had gone too far.

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