Jakarta bombings

A bloody wake-up call

Hotels are bombed in Jakarta as terrorism returns to haunt Indonesia

JUST as Indonesia was congratulating itself on a largely peaceful presidential election, murderous attacks in the capital have come as a jolt. At least nine people were killed and dozens were injured in early-morning explosions on Friday July 17th at the JW Marriott and Ritz-Carlton hotels in the heart of Jakarta’s business district. Another bomb at the Marriott failed to explode. Elsewhere a car-bomb exploded on a toll-road in the north of the city killing two more people.

The newly re-elected president, Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono, has blamed unknown terrorist groups. None has claimed responsibility. But in a country with more Muslims than any other—some 90% of its 240m population—and a history of terrorist violence, suspicion will inevitably fall on Islamist fanatics. In particular, the focus will be on Jemaah Islamiah (JI), an extremist Islamist group affiliated to al-Qaeda, that has carried out similar outrages in the past, most notably in Bali in 2002, when 202 people from 21 countries were killed.

Three of the culprits for that slaughter were executed last November, prompting fears of revenge attacks. When none came, it seemed further evidence of the success of the Indonesian authorities in weakening JI. A campaign of “deradicalisation” had weaned away some potential recruits. Some of its leading and most dangerous members, such as Noordin Top, believed to be a bombmaker, were still at large. But many had been rounded up, or driven abroad. Some had taken refuge among other al-Qaeda franchise-holders in Mindanao in the southern Philippines.

The Marriott and the Ritz-Carlton were said to be among the most secure hotels in Jakarta. Elsewhere, however, the ubiquitous security checks at hotels and office blocks in the city centre had often become perfunctory: a mirror on a stick would be wafted under cars entering the grounds; at lobbies, bags would be scrutinised only cursorily and beeping metal-detectors simply ignored.

If Jakarta had let its guard down, it would not be surprising. There have been no attacks that have claimed the lives of foreigners there since 2003, when the Marriott was also bombed though nine locals were killed in an attack on the Australian embassy in 2004. As the memory of such incidents has faded, Indonesia’s image has improved.

Seen in the early years of this century as a dangerous, unstable place where a newly democratic government was struggling to contain separatist and extremist elements, Indonesia has become something of a model of pluralism, tolerance and stability. Not only is democracy well-entrenched, as the recent elections have demonstrated. But also, political Islam seems firmly in the mainstream. Religion was hardly an issue in the presidential election campaign and in the parliamentary poll in April Islamic parties fared worse than they had in the previous election in 2004.

The bombings do nothing in themselves to threaten Indonesia’s fundamental stability or the huge progress it has made in recent years—every country is prey to the violence of a lunatic fringe. But they will dent a carefully nurtured international image. Already, as if to symbolise the setback, and, in the process, disappointing millions of fans whose enthusiasm has been whipped up by a nationwide poster campaign featuring its stars, Manchester United, England’s football champions, have cancelled a visit. The players were booked into the Ritz-Carlton.