Militants Jump Into Aceh Aid Efforts

Hundreds of Muslim militants, best known for smashing up Jakarta discos or advocating Islamic rule, have poured into devastated Aceh province with the help of the Indonesian military to aid in disaster relief.

The Islamic Defenders Front and the Indonesian Mujahedin Council have set up camp at the same Indonesian military air base in the provincial capital, Banda Aceh, being used by U.S. Navy helicopters for aid flights to victims of the Dec. 26 tsunami.

So far, the two sides have kept their distance. But the militants’ presence and their apparent plan to develop long-term influence here could complicate efforts to bring peace to a region long troubled by a separatist conflict and make the province a religious battleground.

“We saw the American soldiers helping the Acehnese, and that is a good thing,” said Hilmy Bakar Almascaty, head of the Islamic Defenders Front mission in Aceh, on the island of Sumatra. “They come here to help us and we welcome them. However, if they interfere with our tradition, or civilization or law, that would become a problem.”

Almascaty’s group, which he said could soon number more than 1,000, has focused on the grisly job of pulling bodies from the rubble and cleaning up damaged mosques. U.S. officials have played down any possible threat and have not curtailed operations at the air base because of the militants’ presence.

Indonesian army spokesman Col. Djazairi Nachrowi praised the efforts of the militants and said they should not be discriminated against simply because of their past willingness to use violence to further their ideology.

“I think we have to put aside the negative thinking and prejudice,” Nachrowi said. “We should focus our thoughts on things that would help the victims.”

Both the army and the Muslim militants oppose the military campaign by Acehnese rebels to establish their own nation.

“Of course, we reject that,” Almascaty said. “The united Republic of Indonesia is final. Our country must not shrink.”

For nearly three decades, the Acehnese separatists have battled the central government in a war that has claimed thousands of lives. The rebels, who call their organization the Free Aceh Movement, contend that Aceh was annexed illegally by Indonesia when the country was founded in 1945.

In May 2003, the Indonesian government placed the province under strict military control in an attempt to crush the rebels. Human rights groups and victims’ families have charged that Indonesian troops have singled out and killed civilians, some boys as young as 12.

The government has granted Aceh partial autonomy that permits the limited implementation of Islamic law. Although the separatists are devout Muslims, they reject autonomy, saying they are seeking independence, not Islamic law.

But for the Muslim militants, having Islamic law should be enough.

“They have been granted autonomy to implement the Islamic law formally already, so why do they want to have their independence?” asked Almascaty. “They have no reason for independence.”

When the tsunami hit, the Indonesian army suffered losses far greater than it had in any battle with the rebels. More than 500 soldiers were killed or are missing. Hundreds of military family members also were lost.

The separatists, who have generally been pushed to the interior by the army, suffered relatively few casualties from the tsunami. The Free Aceh Movement immediately declared a cease-fire, but both sides have reported a number of clashes.

Col. Ahmad Yani Basuki, an army spokesman, said today that the military was stepping up action against the separatists. He said seven rebels who allegedly disrupted aid distribution had been arrested, but he refused to give details.

Separatist leaders who operate from the safety of Sweden deny obstructing aid have praised the arrival of foreign help, especially the U.S. military.

“Things began to change for the better when the U.S. naval forces landed in Aceh,” said Malik Mahmud, who goes by the title prime minister of the Acehnese government-in-exile. “Their helicopters were immediately on the move, locating survivors and delivering aid directly to the neediest.”

Mahmud expressed hope that the opening of Aceh to foreign troops, aid groups, journalists and others would lead to renewed peace negotiations and an end to the conflict.

“The catastrophe should provide both conflicting parties ... a chance to improve their relationship and seek a sustainable peace resolution,” Mahmud said in an interview by e-mail.

The changing dynamics in Aceh could give the Muslim militants an opportunity to establish a beachhead in a province where they have been shut out.

In recent years, the Free Aceh Movement has rejected offers of assistance from extremists including representatives of Osama bin Laden and the militant Indonesian group Laskar Jihad.

“We chased out the Laskar Jihad because we felt their presence was unwarranted in Aceh and we did not want them meddling,” said Bakhtiar Abdullah, a spokesman for the Free Aceh Movement in Sweden.

Some of the militants take the view that the tsunami struck Aceh as punishment for a lack of devotion, even though Aceh is widely considered to be one of the most devout regions in predominantly Muslim Indonesia.

“It’s obvious what happened was a sign of God,” said Ahmad Sabri Lubis, the leader of an Islamic Defenders Front cleanup squad. “That’s because there are so many human beings who crossed God’s rules. Yes, Aceh has a long history, but because of their change, so many of them have been influenced to do something against the rules, like alcohol, prostitution and gambling.”

Until now, the Islamic Defenders Front was best known for breaking up bars and discos during the holy month of Ramadan. In October, members of the group smashed the windows of the Star Deli in Jakarta because customers were drinking beer.

In Banda Aceh, the militants warn that foreign aid workers who come to Aceh must not try to impose their own culture.

“Because they come here, they might want to open a discotheque,” Almascaty said. “That’s their custom. They want to open a bar, to drink, or to look for women, and so on. That would be a problem because that is forbidden here.”

On Saturday, Islamic Defenders Front members headed out to an upper-income complex of 200 houses to search for bodies.

One member, Amir, had come from Ambon, a city in eastern Indonesia torn by fighting between Muslims and Christians. The 25-year-old wood factory worker spent four days on a ship to get to Jakarta on his way to Aceh. Wearing thick red gloves, blue boots donated by the Red Cross and a mask, Amir climbed onto the back of a wobbly truck as it headed out for another day of pulling corpses from the rubble.

Beside him, Hasan Basri Dalimunthe, a 24-year-old Jakarta university student, talked about why he thought the tsunami had beset north Sumatra, through which Islam entered Indonesia in the 13th century.

“The rules here are good, but implementation is not,” said Dalimunthe, wearing the group’s T-shirt with its triangle insignia. “People here are influenced by outsiders, from Muslims in other provinces as well as foreigners.”

At the search site, residents expressed support for an organization whose members were enduring the smell of corpses and wading through swamps to recover bodies and give them at least a partial Muslim burial.

“They are using their human resources to do difficult work,” said Abul Yatana, 31, who escaped the tsunami by hopping on a motorcycle and racing to the hills. “I respect them.”

By day’s end, the crew had found about 100 bodies, which they wrapped in black plastic. They planned to offer a prayer for the bodies before dropping them into 12-foot-deep trenches.

Another militant organization sending members to aid in the relief effort is the Indonesian Mujahedin Council, which was previously headed by Abu Bakar Bashir, who is on trial in Jakarta. Bashir is accused of being the spiritual leader of Jemaah Islamiah, the group responsible for dozens of terrorist bombings, including the 2002 Bali nightclub attack that killed 202 people.

The group’s coordinator here, Salman Farizi, 50, said that in addition to distributing supplies and providing medical aid, “we also give religious preaching, to keep up the spirit of the people.”

Sari Sudarsono of The Times’ Jakarta Bureau contributed to this report.