Will the Makassar Suicide Bombing Spark a New Wave of Terror in Indonesia?

Since the attack in Makassar on 28 March, Indonesian counter-terrorism police have arrested several militants linked to JAD and seized bomb-making components. (Image Source: AWG97)

In the mid-morning of 28 March, worshippers filled the Sacred Heart of Jesus Cathedral in Makassar—the largest city on the Indonesian island of Sulawesi—for a Palm Sunday service marking the start of the Holy Week leading up to Easter. At 10.30am, just as mass was ending, the force of a powerful explosion ripped through a side entrance to the church, injuring 20 people. No churchgoers were killed, but found among the debris were the body parts of two people who had not attended the service that morning—they were Islamist suicide bombers, who had pulled up on a motorbike and detonated their device.

Authorities said the attackers, later revealed to be a husband and wife, were affiliated to local militant group Jamaah Ansharut Daulah (JAD). Indonesian president Joko Widodo—leader of the world’s largest Muslim-majority nation—condemned the assault as an ‘‘act of terror’’ that went against Islamic values.

Just three days after the bombing, on 31 March, a woman radicalized by ISIS ideology opened fire in a ‘‘lone wolf’’ attack before being shot dead by police officers at the headquarters of the National Police in Jakarta. This led to fears of repeat attacks over Easter, which fortunately did not materialize; yet the attacks last month were among the most serious in Indonesia since a spate of suicide bombings in the East Javan city of Surabaya in May 2018, which killed scores of civilians. Like the Makassar attack, those blasts were perpetrated by families of bombers linked to JAD. Is the militant threat now rising again?

Disparate terror networks

Investigations in the aftermath of the Makassar blast have revealed much about the nature of militant activity in Indonesia. The couple who perpetrated the attack were born in the 1990s, and were recently married. They have joined a growing list of Indonesian jihadists to have blown themselves up in suicide attacks together as a couple, while some have even involved their children in attacks. The phenomenon reflects ISIS ideology that glorifies involving children in jihad and seeking martyrdom as a family unit.

In the Surabaya blasts three years ago, which also targeted churches, six of the attackers came from the same family, including several young children. A similar attack in January 2019 on a Catholic cathedral in Jolo, in the southern Philippines, was also carried out by a young Indonesian couple who had joined Abu Sayyaf. That attack left 22 people dead and more than 100 injured, in addition to dozens killed earlier in Surabaya. Indonesian authorities have said the bombers in those incidents also had close ties to JAD.

JAD is more of a collection of cells, inspired by jihadist ideology and online propaganda, than a coherent or hierarchical organization, making it difficult for intelligence agencies to track and disrupt. The militant network can be thought of as an unstructured alliance between small, radical groups, in which members are often related to one another, or have close links through friendship and online activity. ISIS ideology unifies JAD with a separate group, Mujahideen Indonesia Timur (MIT), operating out of Poso, Sulawesi.

Indonesia has experienced renewed attacks by Islamist militants since an ISIS-inspired gun and bomb attack targeted Jakarta’s Thamrin business district in 2016. (Image Source: Jondon99)

The Makassar suspects used a pressure cooker bomb, which the head of Indonesia’s National Counter-Terrorism Agency (BNPT), Boy Rafli Amar, said was constructed after ‘‘online training on social media’’, which allowed the two suspects to ‘‘develop the procedure for making explosives’’. Others likely aided the couple ahead of the bombing, and police have since detained four members of a Koran study group attended by the attackers. After those arrests, National Police chief Gen. Listyo Sigit Prabowo said each had played a role to ‘‘spread doctrine, plan for jihad’’ and ‘‘buy materials’’ used to make the bomb.

In further raids related to the attack, 13 people were detained across Makassar, Jakarta and West Nusa Tenggara—evidencing the geographical spread of those involved—while security forces seized 5.5kg of explosive materials including triacetone triperoxide (TATP), a bomb component often used by jihadists.

While a small network was discovered in relation to the Makassar attackers, the woman who opened fire at the National Police headquarters in Jakarta three days later, identified as 25-year-old ex-student Zaikah Aini, is thought to have acted alone. In this case, police cited online radicalization as a prominent factor, after the suspect posted an ISIS flag on her social media account before launching the attack. ISIS sympathizers unable to join the 700 or so Indonesians who have travelled to fight in Syria and Iraq since 2014 have been encouraged by ISIS, via its network of online channels, to launch attacks in Indonesia.

Jemaah Islamiyah threat

Besides the threat from diffuse networks, there remains an organized element to Indonesian militancy in the form of Jemaah Islamiyah (JI), a group which committed a succession of mass-casualty assaults in the early part of this century; most notably the Bali attacks in 2002 and hotel bombings in Jakarta in the following years, claiming hundreds of lives. JI was banned in court but has still been allowed to conduct social, educational and religious activities on the understanding that it renounces its violent tactics.

Yet there are recent signs that JI is regrouping, and is no longer committed to non-violence. Last year, police accused the group of using cash from charity donation boxes, placed in restaurants and stores in seven provinces, to fund terrorist activities and send jihadists abroad for training. Police seized 31 such boxes in raids in March. Authorities have also arrested JI figures who may still have harbored ambitions to restart attacks, detaining senior JI military commander Aris Sumarsono—also known as Zulkarnaen—in December, who had spent 18 years on the run. He had been sought by police since the Bali blasts.

More recently, a sizeable JI cell was discovered in East Java earlier this year, commanded by Usman bin Sef—also known as Fahim. Fahim was among 22 suspects arrested in police raids in late-February and early-March. Police allege he was training new JI members in Malang district and had built a bunker for storing weapons and constructing bombs. Authorities have seized pistols, knives, swords and machetes from Fahim’s followers, and uncovered materials detailing a plot to attack on-duty police officers.

Indonesia’s deadliest terror attack occurred in 2002, when Jemaah Islamiyah killed 202 people in bomb attacks targeting nightclubs on the resort island of Bali. (Image Source: antwerpenR)

After further raids, a total of 49 members of the Fahim-led cell are now in custody. Yet might more be unaccounted for, and do other such groups exist? Aswi Siregar, the head of Detachment 88, Indonesia’s elite police counter-terror force, told a press conference his unit would ‘‘continue to hunt them down’’.

A rising terror threat?

Militants were deterred from carrying out fresh attacks over easter, with security stepped-up at police stations and places of worship nationwide. Yet as law enforcement operations after the Makassar blast continue, a short-term threat persists as militants wary of being detained may choose to act with haste to avoid their plots being disrupted. Longer term, networked cells affiliated to JAD will continue to pose a major challenge as will the remnants of MIT and JI, and individuals inspired by ISIS propaganda online.

Indonesian authorities are fighting a constant battle against Islamist terrorism. In an in-depth interview in January with Channel News Asia, BNPT director of enforcement Brig.-Gen. Eddy Hartono warned that terror cells are ‘‘actively recruiting, spreading their ideology, raising funds and conducting training’’ and described the threat to Indonesia as ‘‘omnipresent’’. In particular, he cited a risk of radicalization due to the COVID-19 pandemic, with terrorist recruiters able to exploit the economically vulnerable in society.

Indonesia will continue with its multi-pronged strategy. Visible police operations are just the public face of these efforts—monitoring of social media, deradicalization programmes in prisons, and a civil society drive to contest the extreme narratives peddled by radical preachers, are all equally as important as law enforcement raids. These measures limit the damage; but with online propaganda raising the appeal of homegrown groups like JI and JAD, preventing all events like the Makassar bombing is an arduous task. 

A version of this article is also published on Geopolitical Monitor.

Why Indonesia’s Papua Insurgency Has Reached a Strategic Stalemate

The Indonesian National Armed Forces (TNI) deployed an additional 1,000 troops to Papua after protests erupted across the region in August 2019. (Image Source: USAF/Richard Ebensberger)

On 30 March, separatist rebels opened fire on three employees of the Grasberg gold and copper mine near Puncak Jaya – the highest mountain in Indonesia’s remote easternmost province of Papua. One worker was killed and another two sustained gunshot wounds in the attack, which targeted an office and housing area of US-based firm Freeport-McMoRan. The company jointly owns the site – which is the largest gold mine and second largest copper mine in the world – with the Indonesian government.

The mine sits at the heart of a volatile region. The Papua region, which encompasses the provinces of both Papua and West Papua, has been the site of a low-level separatist insurgency since the 1960s. Seven years after the end of Dutch colonial rule, the region was incorporated into Indonesia in 1969 via a disputed referendum, in which only 1,025 Papuans, carefully chosen by the Indonesian military, were permitted to cast a ballot. The poll remains a source of tension and drives separatism to this day.

While the conflict has persisted at a low level for decades, last year – the 50th anniversary of the vote – witnessed an uptick in violence. Protestors took to the streets across the two provinces last August, angered by an incident in Surabaya in which Papuan university students were arrested by police and suffered racial taunts from nationalists, over accusations they had desecrated an Indonesian flag. The ensuing street demonstrations soon turned violent, with deaths and injuries reported on both sides.

The recent shooting incident near Puncak Jaya was preceded by a series of clashes in the area between rebels and the Indonesian military, which prompted 917 residents to flee to the nearby city of Timika. Violence appears to be rising while the political campaign for Papuan independence stalls, leaving the status-quo intact and the future no-clearer for the region’s residents, who have long endured poverty and underdevelopment. As the stalemate persists, what makes the situation in Papua so intractable?

The roots of the independence movement

The origins of the dispute date to the mid-20th Century, when the area was under Dutch colonial rule. Indonesia gained Independence in 1949, yet the Dutch retained control of Papua through the 1950s. As calls for independence grew, Papuan leaders held a Congress in 1961 and raised their own flag, the Morning Star. Violence erupted between Papuans, Indonesians and Dutch forces until a UN-sponsored treaty – the New York Agreement – was brokered in 1962. The agreement facilitated initial Indonesian control with the promise of a future referendum to decide the final status of the disputed territory.

The ballot, labelled the ‘Act of Free Choice’, was held in 1969. The Indonesian authorities selected just 1,025 Papuan representatives to vote, by raising of the hand, on behalf of the entire population of the region, which at the time had almost a million inhabitants. Voters unanimously backed staying under the rule of Jakarta; yet did so within an atmosphere of intimidation and under the threat of violence. The result was controversially ratified by the UN, which voted by a majority 84-0, with 30 abstentions.

Widespread street protests last August were sparked by the arrest of Papuan students, alleged to have desecrated an Indonesian flag, in the city of Surabaya. (Image Source: Papua Glossary)

Angered by the perceived unfairness of the process, breakaway elements in the Papua region resorted to violence. An armed guerrilla group, the Free Papua Movement or Organisasi Papua Merdeka (OPM) has carried-out attacks targeting security forces and multinational corporations since the 1970s. Other insurgent groups, such as the West Papua National Liberation Army or Tentera Pembebasan Nasional Papua Barat (TPNPB) also operate in the region. The latter group claimed responsibility for the attack in late-March on workers of the Grasberg mine, which it views as diverting profits abroad and harming the environment. The Indonesian military has also been accused of rights abuses and arbitrary arrests.

While the insurgency has persisted away from the scrutiny of the international media spotlight, 2019 marked a turning point in coverage. The protests which started last August, spread to cities including Timika, Fakfak, Sarong and regional capital Manokwari. Mobile phone footage was shared around the world on social media platforms and made it into mainstream news in the West. Indonesia promptly cut internet access to the region, claiming it would ‘accelerate the process of restoring security’. Yet Papuan independence activists and human rights organizations suspected the move was designed to limit global media coverage, cover-up abuses and prevent protestors from co-ordinating their actions.

Why is the Papuan situation so intractable?

The conflict is resistant to resolution given the diametrically opposed positions of both sides. From the perspective of Jakarta, the region came under its control in the 1960s via a legitimate vote, backed by the UN and supported by its neighbours and allies. Even today, regional powers such as Australia are reluctant to sympathize with Papuan separatists or criticize Indonesian military actions in the region. Indonesian politicians and military leaders are keen to defend the country’s sovereignty and territorial integrity in its outermost regions; while as a resource-rich area, Papua is vital to the national economy.

Papuan independence activists, such as exiled figurehead of the movement, Benny Wenda, present a different reality. They view the 1969 vote as flawed and unrepresentative of the native population of Papua. Indonesian rule is seen as being illegitimate and constituting a form of modern-day colonialism. A set of additional grievances have added to the Papuan narrative of unjust domination by Jakarta. Of particular concern to independence activists is transmigration; a policy which has seen mostly-Muslim Javanese settle in Papua, displacing elements of the culture of mostly-Christian Melanesian Papuans.

Regional power Australia supports Indonesia’s control of Papua. Indonesian leader Joko Widodo is pictured here with Australian PM Scott Morrison. (Image Source: Australian Embassy Jakarta)

Economic grievances also feature highly on the list of concerns. Under Indonesian control, large multi-national companies have won contracts to extract Papua’s natural resources, diverting profits out of the region while much of the local population lives in poverty. Infrastructure also lags behind, leaving Papua underdeveloped and disconnected from more affluent sections of the Indonesian archipelago. Such companies also bring negative environmental impacts, such as pollution and the loss of forests. Many Papuans feel marginalized by the Jakarta elite and discriminated against by other ethnic groups.

An insurgency governed by stalemate

Indonesia shows little sign of budging from its long-term position on Papua, despite current President Joko Widodo pledging to listen to the concerns of Papuans after last year’s violent demonstrations. The Papuan independence movement – led primarily by Papuans exiled abroad – has made minimal progress amid internal divisions and a lack of coherence, despite the recent boost in global attention.

The UN – which ratified Indonesian control in the 1960s – is just as unlikely today to provide support for those intent on securing independence via political means. The principles of state sovereignty and territorial integrity remain the two cornerstones of international diplomacy, while regional allies with similar concerns about breakaway regions and separatist struggles at home are certain to back Jakarta. For major powers such as the US, China and Russia, Papua is of little wider geo-strategic significance.

It is hard to see how Papua will escape the current impasse. A cycle of insurgent attacks, alleged state oppression, protests and military deployments continue to dictate the region’s security architecture. Papuan separatist groups are no match for the strength of the Indonesian military; while in times of increased tension the authorities are able to suppress information, denting the organizational ability of rebels and their supporters. For as long as there is no meaningful political dialogue, the status-quo in Papua – of a conflict frozen in time and largely hidden from view – will prevail long into the future.

A version of this article is also published on Geopolitical Monitor.

Indonesia Launches Anti-Terror Crackdown After Surabaya Church Bombings

Since the ISIS-inspired triple suicide bombings in Surabaya on 13 May, elite counter-terrorism police have detained more than 70 alleged militants across Indonesia (Image Source: AWG97)

A spate of suicide bomb attacks on three churches and the police headquarters in the Indonesian city of Surabaya last month shocked the country and made headlines around the world. The attacks came less than a week after more than 150 Islamist militant convicts laid siege to a prison on the outskirts of Jakarta, killing five police officers and exposing the growing threat posed to Indonesia by ISIS and its affiliates. This report provides an overview of the major terrorist incidents that shook the country last month and discusses the response of both Indonesia’s lawmakers and law enforcement agencies.

After avoiding a major Islamist attack for more than two years – since the ISIS-claimed gun and bomb attack on Jakarta’s Thamrin business district killed four civilians in January 2016 – signs of increased militant activity first rose to the surface on 8 May, when armed clashes broke-out between convicted terrorists and police officers at a high-security prison in Depok, near the Indonesian capital Jakarta. The situation quickly escalated into a tense two-day siege, resulting in the death of five police officers and one militant. The siege eventually came to an end after officers from the elite police counter-terrorism unit – Detachment 88 – stormed the prison in an attempt to free hostages, triggering the militants’ surrender. Soon after the incident, President Joko Widodo said the state would ‘never give space to terrorism or any effort to undermine national security’. However, worse was still to come.

On 13 May, suicide bombers linked to the Jamaah Ansharut Daulah (JAD) militant group detonated their devices at three Christian churches in the East Java city of Surabaya, killing at least 13 people and leaving in excess of 30 wounded. ISIS soon claimed responsibility for the attack, and authorities later revealed that all six of the attackers came from the same family, several of whom were young children. The following morning, another five suicide bombers blew themselves up nearby at the city’s police headquarters, leaving ten people wounded. As with the first incident, the attack was again carried-out by a single family. On 16 May, a third attack occurred in the space of just three days when four men wielding samurai swords attacked a police station in the city of Pekanbaru, in Riau province. A police officer was killed and three others injured, while all four of the attackers were shot dead at the scene.

The wave of attacks shocked Indonesia and its neighbours, despite Southeast Asian countries having already been on a raised state of alert since last year’s siege of Marawi in the Philippines and amid fears of ISIS fighters returning from war zones in the Middle East. However, the unexpectedly large scale and nature of the attacks – in the sense that children were used – heightened the shock factor.

In the wake of the turbulent few days endured in mid-May, Indonesia’s authorities have been swift to respond. In a direct response to the siege at the prison in Depok, police announced that all of the 155 militants involved would be transferred to a maximum-security detention facility on Nusakambangan island in Central Java. In the weeks immediately following the attacks in Surabaya and Pekanbaru, officers from the Detachment 88 counter-terrorism squad launched a series of raids across the nation. On 22 May, national police chief Tito Karnavian announced that 74 suspects had been arrested in the previous ten days, adding that officers had seized ‘ready-made bombs and other explosive materials’.

After a recent surge in Islamist attacks, Indonesia’s armed forces are set to play a greater role in counter-terrorism operations alongside the national police (Image Source: Kurniawan3115)

In some instances, militants tried to resist arrest, resulting in several armed skirmishes and fatalities. On 10 May two jihadists attempting to join the prison siege in Depok were shot by police officers after attempting to seize their weapons in Bekasi, leaving one dead while the other sustained injuries and was later taken into custody. On 14 May two suspects were killed by police in Sidoarjo after opening fire on officers. Two days later a militant was shot dead in Tanjung Balai in similar circumstances. Of the 74 people arrested, Karnavian said most had ties to JAD while at least 37 of the suspects were linked to the Surabaya bombings. Describing the police response, Karnavian said on 31 May that his force had ‘moved fast’ to ‘identify the perpetrators’ and restore a semblance of stability in the country.

President Widodo condemned the attacks as ‘barbaric’, labelling the actions of the perpetrators as ‘cowardly’. Widodo also urged lawmakers to push through a raft of new counter-terrorism legislation which was first proposed after the Thamrin attack in early-2016 but has since faced repeated hurdles in Parliament. The national police chief also echoed the need for tougher anti-terror measures, with Karnavian requesting assistance from the army to conduct joint operations targeting JAD and several other domestic ISIS-inspired militant groups, such as Jamaah Ansharut Tauhid (JAT) and Mujahidin Indonesia Timur (MIT). Less than a week after the attacks, President Widodo confirmed that he would reactivate the military’s Joint Special Operations Command – known as Koopsusgab – to aid the police in counter-terrorism operations. A greater role for Indonesia’s armed forces in tackling terrorism now appears certain as public opinion has shifted in the wake of the sudden resurgence in jihadist violence.

In the final days of May, lawmakers in Jakarta passed the new counter-terrorism laws first proposed more than two years ago. The new legislation is set to give the authorities enhanced and wide-ranging powers to arrest and question suspected terrorists at an earlier stage in investigations. Police will now be permitted to detain terror suspects for up to 21 days, increased from the previous limit of seven. Officers will also be able to apply for an extension if more time is required. Prosecuting authorities will now also be able to charge individuals suspected of either supporting or recruiting for both foreign and domestic militant groups. Sentences are also set to be increased for those convicted, including lengthy jail terms and the death penalty for those found guilty of the most serious terrorism offences.

The attacks by Islamist militants in Surabaya and Pekanbaru expose the growing threat posed to the country by ISIS and its regional affiliates: JAD, JAT, MIT and the remnants of Jemaah Islamiyah (JI). A secondary threat also emanates from so-called ‘lone wolves’, who may strike at any moment using unsophisticated weapons such as knives or vehicles. These low-tech attacks require little planning and are notoriously difficult for the intelligence services to prevent. At present, Indonesia is facing a dual threat from both homegrown jihadists and foreign fighters returning from conflict zones in ISIS’ former heartlands in Syria and Iraq. Just a few weeks ago, President Widodo’s Chief-of-Staff revealed that almost 1,500 Indonesian citizens have attempted to travel to the Middle East to fight alongside ISIS and other extremist groups in recent years – and many of them succeeded in their aim. Of these, 590 are thought to remain in Syria while 103 have been killed and 86 have already returned of their own accord. In addition, more than 500 were forcibly deported back to Indonesia while 171 others have been prevented from leaving the country after suspicions that they intended to take up arms overseas.

These figures may represent just the tip of the iceberg in terms of the threat posed by Islamist militants in Indonesia, a country which has until recently done a remarkable job in keeping the jihadists at bay. In the current climate however, the task for intelligence and law enforcement agencies has become far more difficult. Despite the wave of arrests and introduction of new counter-terrorism laws since the attacks last month, it may be many years before Indonesia can turn the tide on its rising militancy.