Chapter 7 - ISIL and the Indonesian dynamic

The first Indonesians travelled to Syria to join the jihad in 2012. Many of these were students who made use of their relative geographic proximity, such as Riza Fardi, who was studying in Yemen^{Footnote 47} , Wildan Mukhollad, who attended Al-Azhar University in Cairo^{Footnote 48} , or Yazid Ulwan Falahuddin and Wijangga Bagus Panulat, who both pursued technical studies in Turkey until 2013^{Footnote 49} . They were followed by a steady stream of Indonesians departing from Indonesia itself. Estimates on the number of Indonesians in Syria vary greatly. In August 2015, Indonesia’s counter-terror unit Densus 88 had a list of 166 verified by Indonesians in Syria. The estimate by the Indonesian National Intelligence Organisation (BIN) stood at 500, but this number had not changed over the past two years. In December 2015, Security Minister Luhut Panjaitan claimed the number of Indonesians in Syria was as high as 800^{Footnote 50} .

Going to Syria: Motivations and local dynamics

The motivations of Indonesians going to Syria broadly resemble those of other foreign volunteers: to help fellow Muslims; to fight the Assad regime; to join jihad; to fight the Shia; to be part of the battle ushering in the ‘End of Time’; and to live in the so-called Caliphate. The relative ranking of these motivations, of course, differs from individual to individual. In the case of the Indonesians, it is also heavily influenced by local dynamics in Indonesia itself.

Joining the jihad—This was not just driven by the sense that this was a ‘just war’^{Footnote 51} but by a lively debate among Indonesian jihadists since 2009, when Jemaah Islamiyya (JI) shifted from military to preaching and educational activities. This debate, which revolved around the legitimacy of jihad in Indonesia, the effectiveness of local jihadist efforts and how to fulfil the obligation of jihad, fractured the community and led to the formation of new militant groups^{Footnote 52} . The Syrian civil war provided Indonesian jihadists with a way to fulfil what they saw as the obligation of jihad, irrespective of whether they deemed the time to be right for militant jihad in Indonesia.

The ‘End of Time’—This idea attracted considerable attention among Indonesian Islamists and indeed became one of the key reasons to travel to Syria in 2013 and 2014 because it stoked already increased popular interest in the subject among Indonesian Muslims. The enthusiasm for this concept led to a proliferation of books and debates about whether the increase in natural disasters in Indonesia, as well as a solar and lunar eclipse during Ramadan, constituted the apocalyptic signs of the ‘End of Time’. Indeed, it was not unusual for Muslim news websites to have a dedicated section on the ‘End of Time’. Some activists from Majles Mujahedin Indonesia (MMI) even went as far as establishing a committee to welcome the Mahdi^{Footnote 53} . The Syrian conflict reinvigorated the apocalyptic mood at home while at the same time providing a way to be part of the imminent ‘final battle’ between good and evil on the plain of Dabiq, as prophesied in Islamic eschatology^{Footnote 54} . Interestingly, in 2015, apocalyptic notions became less central to the motivations for going to Syria. This was partially due to a shift in interest from the ‘End of Time’ to the Caliphate itself, as well as a realisation that the ‘last hour’ was not as imminent as previously assumed.

Fighting Shia heresy—The sectarian rift resonated loudly as it drew upon and reinforced already existing hostility against Indonesian Shia. This hostility resulted from ongoing efforts by Indonesian Sunni Muslim organisations to redefine what it means to be Muslim in Indonesia since the fall of Suharto in 1998. This process of redefinition was driven by fatwas, hostility and violence towards those perceived as heretics: liberal Muslims, Ahmadis, and Shia^{Footnote 55} . The assault by the Assad regime on the Syrian Sunnis provided further proof of the heretical nature of Shia Islam in this local debate, while also offering an opportunity to take the battle to the heart of Shia Islam as represented by the Assad-Hizballah-Iran alliance.

Living in the caliphate—Once declared in June 2014, the caliphate became a magnet drawing in those Indonesians who had come to the conclusion that, despite repeated efforts to establish an Islamic state in Indonesia since the 1948-1965 Darul Islam rebellions, it was probably not going to happen any time soon. So those who wanted to live in a ‘true’ Islamic state started to depart for Syria. They comprised whole families who sold all their possessions in Indonesia, signalling clearly that they had no intention to return. Many of these included the wives and children of Indonesian mujahedin already in Syria.

Indonesians in Syria: Channels and organisation

In 2012 and 2013, Indonesian volunteers were spread across a variety of jihadist groups including Ahrar al-Sham, Suqour al-Izz, Katibat al-Muhajirin, Jabhat al-Nusra (JN) and ISIL. From 2014 onwards, however, they almost exclusively joined JN and ISIL, with the majority of them going to ISIL. This reflected not only ideological preferences but also the channels they took to go to Syria. The early emigrants comprised Indonesians living abroad who made their own way to Syria and joined the organisation of their choice. But the majority of Indonesians who departed from Indonesia used channels that were linked to existing local jihadist networks. In 2014 and 2015, there were three important such channels: the MMI channel, the JI channel, and the ISIL channel. The MMI and JI channels were not open to people outside those organisations. They also had strict vetting procedures for those among their members who wanted to go for either humanitarian work or to gain military training and experience. Both MMI and JI directed their members to JN and it is estimated that between 20 and 40 Indonesians have so far been involved with JN^{Footnote 56} . The fact that both fighters and humanitarian aid workers intended to go for limited time periods, are not accompanied by wives and children, and that participation in martyrdom operations is discouraged, suggests that JI and MMI are still pursuing the long-term objective of establishing an Islamic state in Indonesia and are using the Syrian jihad much in the way that the first generation of JI used the Afghan jihad, namely to build military capacity.

The ISIL channel, in contrast, has been more open to ‘outsiders’ without prior jihadist credentials who may have been radicalised through Islamic study sessions and subsequently approached in person by recruiters from within the ISIL network in Indonesia. This network comprises a range of groups including Tawhid wal-Jihad, Jamaah Ansharut Tauhid (JAT), Mujahedin Timur Indonesia (MIT), Mujahedin West Indonesia (MIB), the Bima Group, Ring Banten, Laskar Jundullah, the Islamic Sharia Activists Forum (FAKSI), as well as the Student Movement for Islamic Sharia (Gema Salam)^{Footnote 57} . Several of these organisations to some degree have their own channel to ISIL in Syria, have pursued recruitment independently, and, depending on the numbers of their recruits, have either sent them as a separate group or together with recruits from other networked organisations. Since late 2015, there has been even further fragmentation with the emergence of channels directly linked to the three main Indonesian figures in Syria involved in a power-struggle: Bahrumsyah, Abu Jandal and Bahrun Naim^{Footnote 58} .

This increasing fragmentation of Indonesian ISIL supporters is also reflected on the ground in Syria. In September 2014, Indonesian and Malaysian foreign fighters established the Malay Islamic Archipelago Unit for the Islamic State, or Katibah Nusantara lid Daulah Islamiyya, based in Ash-Shadadi^{Footnote 59} . Katibah Nusantara is under the command of Bahrumsyah, who left for Syria in May 2014 and appeared in the ISIL video ‘Join the Ranks’ two months later. The unit’s organisational structure includes ‘departments’ for combat fighters, snipers, heavy weapons, tactics and strategy, as well as military management^{Footnote 60} . It aims to provide Southeast Asian volunteers with military, Arabic and ideological training before "they join ISIL forces in roles ranging from front-line soldiers and suicide bombers to guards and administrators^{Footnote 61} ".

Katibah Nusantara’s size is currently estimated to be around several dozen but was previously believed to have been around 100^{Footnote 62} . The decline in the number of fighters can partially be explained by the heavy toll it took spearheading the battle against the Kurdish forces at Tel Tamr in April 2015^{Footnote 63} . It may also be explained through the increasing factionalisation which led to Abu Jandal organising his own unit, Katibah Masyaarik, in Homs. Bahrum Naim and followers also left Ash-Shadadi, moving first to Raqqa and then to Manbij.

ISIL in Indonesia: Aman Abdurahman and Santoso

At the heart of the ISIL network in Indonesia is the cleric Aman Abdurrahman, who established Tawhid wal-Jihad in 2004. Aman Abdurahman held court on the extreme margins of the jihadist community where he advanced many of the ideas of Abu Muhammad al-Maqdisi and Abu Musab al-Zarkawi, whose jihadist and takfiri tracts he translated into Indonesian. The centrality of many of those ideas, as well as the attraction ISIL had for Indonesian mujahedin due to its territorial gains and military successes, allowed Aman Abdurrahman to outflank other Indonesian radicals. This was further cemented by the strategic coup of gaining the support of the one Indonesian Islamist figure who posed a charismatic challenge: former JI amir Abu Bakr Ba’syir. Both Aman Abdurrahman and Abu Bakr Basyir were imprisoned in the Nusa Kambangan penal complex, albeit in different prisons. This allowed Aman Abdurrahman through his followers to influence Abu Bakar Basyir to shift from a hitherto ‘neutral position’ on the JN-ISIL discord in Syria in favour of ISIL.

Another key figure in ISIL’s Indonesian network is Santoso, the leader of Mujahedin Indonesia Timur (MIT). Santoso and MIT have their roots in the 1998-2007 Poso conflict. Unaddressed Muslim grievances provided the fertile ground for emergence of new jihadist groups. MIT was established by Santoso in 2011 and has since been involved in open conflict with the Indonesian police, as well as running training camps in the Poso mountains. When the Syrian conflict erupted, Santoso was among the first Indonesians to pledge loyalty to ISIL in 2013. His reaching out to ISIL, however, must be seen as another strategic move, which, like that of Aman Abdurahman, aimed at repositioning himself among Indonesian extremists. To date Santoso has proven less successful. This may, however, change if the ISIL leadership in Syria decides seriously to embark upon establish a Southeast Asian province because Santoso, unlike Aman Abdurahman, controls territory.

Conclusion

Indonesian interest in the Syrian jihad has been driven by local Indonesian dynamics. These have pushed Indonesian volunteers towards Syria and have seen Islamists in Indonesia, such as Aman Abdurrahman and Santoso, reach out to ISIL to elevate their own position within the Indonesian jihadist community.

The increasing fragmentation of ISIL supporters in Indonesia is a clear sign of weakness. This weakness, however, may increase the risk of violence in Indonesia as different factions compete with each other by launching violent attacks. Moreover, these attacks may increase in frequency as it becomes more difficult for Indonesians to travel to Syria, thus making local jihad the only outlet left for jihadist fervour^{Footnote 64} .

The competition between different pro-ISIL factions may also result in efforts to ‘out‑radicalise’ each other by adopting more brutal methods of killing in line with ‘the management of savagery’.

The pressure on ISIL in its core territories of Syria and Iraq could also increase the risk of violence in Indonesia should the ISIL leadership decide to push into new areas in order to establishment a new province. Here again local dynamics are relevant. Santoso has already made his case to ISIL for using the territory he controls in the Poso Mountains.

…weakness … may increase the risk of violence in Indonesia as different factions compete with each other by launching violent attacks.

It can also not be ruled out that, at some point, Santoso may feel compelled to announce an ISIL province in the Poso Mountains unilaterally. Here he needs to weigh the additional attention he will receive from the security forces against the gains in stature he will obtain.