A religious teacher at JI-linked Pesantren Darusy Syahadah supervising students on Sept 13. - Photo: ST
MAGETAN/BOYOLALI, (Indonesia): A gentle laugh accompanies almost every single sentence uttered by Imtihan Syafi’i, the principal of an Indonesian Islamic boarding school – or pesantren – in Magetan regency, about three hours away by car from Solo in Central Java.
When he points out the Wi-Fi router in the sparsely furnished room in a nondescript building on the grounds of Pesantren Darul Quddus, a boyish glee takes over, as he repeatedly exclaims how modern and connected the school is.
At this mixed-gender school spread out over four blocks, about 40 students aged between 17 and 25 are housed in separate dormitories for males and females.
They are free to keep in touch with the wider world via smartphones, and one teenager was even spotted strolling around with shoulder-length hair – which the principal shrugs off with a laugh, saying the students are old enough not to be dictated to on such matters.
But his affable smiles and easygoing manner belie a darker past.
Imtihan, who is in his early 50s, was a key leader in the now-defunct terror group Jemaah Islamiyah (JI), acting as the head of its fatwa council. And since its inception in 2015, Pesantren Darul Quddus had served as recruitment ground for the group.
“All of our teachers were members, and some of our older students were part of JI too,” he told The Straits Times, which visited the school on Sept 13.
However, he stressed that the active recruitment of students to become JI members has ceased since the arrest of former JI chief Para Wijayanto in 2019.
Formed in 1993 in Indonesia, JI was the South-east Asian affiliate of Islamist militant organisation Al-Qaeda.
The group was outlawed in 2008 after deadly attacks in the Philippines and Indonesia, including the bombings on the holiday island of Bali in 2002 that killed more than 200 people, many of them Australian tourists.
There are 42 JI-linked pesantrens across the archipelago today, according to Wijayanto – a small percentage compared with the over 41,000 Islamic boarding schools registered with the Ministry of Religious Affairs.
When JI announced its dissolution on June 30, senior figures in the organisation had promised a change to the educational curriculum of its affiliated pesantrens.
Besides ensuring that lessons would align with mainstream Islamic beliefs, they said that extremist content would be removed from teaching materials.
This would entail JI-affiliated pesantrens changing tack to focus on cultivating religious knowledge and an in-depth understanding of Islam. “The curriculum here is mostly centred around ‘figh’, or Islamic jurisprudence. To be a student of fiqh is to always be learning and evaluating... their (Islamic laws’) context and relevance today,” said Imtihan.
But experts say that extremist education at these schools had extended beyond the classroom for select pupils.
Faculty members evaluated which students had potential to join the select group and be taught extremist content. Usually the students whose fathers were jailed or active JI members were given priority, explained anti-terrorism expert Adhe Bhakti of the Centre for Radicalism and Deradicalisation Studies (Pakar).
“These extra-curricular sessions were conducted outside the regular classroom or activity hours. The participants are the new recruits,” he told ST.
In some cases, pesantrens discreetly taught students “askari”, or paramilitary techniques, while drilling into them that Indonesia should be seen as the enemy because the nation does not adopt Islamic laws.
“For JI, the role of (a) pesantren was twofold: to maintain their ideology; and to do recruitment,” said Adhe.
Khoirul Anam, an ex-paramilitary commander of JI who goes by the alias Bravo, shed light on the recruitment process.
He said that in the past, students who were deemed to be physically fit as well as courageous were picked to join a programme named “halaqa”, an Arabic word for circle or ring.
“Halaqa was meant to help strengthen students’ mentality,” Bravo told ST on Sept 23 in Jakarta. The chosen students were usually asked to leave their pesantren and meet at a location outside the compound at 1am, and return to their schools before dawn prayers at around 5am, he explained.
“We applied ‘tandzim sirri’ (a principle of operating clandestinely). Classmates of the selected students were not aware of these halaqa activities,” said Bravo, who will be released from prison in 2025. He was jailed in 2022 for several offences, including the setting up of firearm repair workshops and making home-made firearms.
Pesantrens are a popular alternative to mainstream schools in Indonesia, helping to train the next generation of religious scholars. Generally, students enrol in them from the age of 12.
Some pesantrens teach only Islamic theology, while others also teach additional subjects in line with the national curriculum, enabling their students to take national examinations.
Changing mindsets
Despite JI’s dissolution, concerns of lingering extremist influence remain, especially within South-east Asia.
JI’s former leaders have embarked on a nationwide outreach tour to urge their former comrades to stand down, turn themselves in, and contribute instead to Indonesia’s peace and economic development.
Indonesia’s national police counter-terrorism squad Detachment-88 has raised concerns that those outside the country may not know about or agree with the decision to disband, and could form splinter groups.
Imtihan echoed these concerns, telling ST he has never had access to JI members in Singapore or other neighbouring countries.
“I’ve only ever had access to the students here in the pesantren, and to the group’s senior leadership,” he said. He added that while it was easy for his school to accept JI’s dissolution, it may not necessarily be the case for every member.
Imtihan said that the group’s shift of mindset, from one embracing terror and violence causing hundreds of deaths to one being willing to “return to Indonesia’s embrace” took many years, and was motivated by a deeper understanding of Islamic teachings.
He said he had first mooted the idea about a decade ago to militant cleric Abu Rusdan, one of JI’s co-founders.
He said he was inspired by the humanitarian work of Doctors Without Borders in Syria, which transcended nationality and religion. He was a translator in Syria for three months in 2011 during the civil war there.
“The truth is, JI’s actions have harmed society for years... Meanwhile, these doctors were saving lives, regardless of whose life it was. It made me realise that... JI could work towards the greater good too, and impact society in a positive way,” he said.
Wijayanto, who was JI’s emir, or top leader, from 2009 up till his 2019 capture and subsequent incarceration, told ST on Sept 23 in Jakarta that as long as a country respects Islam and the right of Muslims to practise their religion, then it should not be seen as a target.
“The world now has changed. Countries may not be Islamic, but they do not impede Islam, and so these are friendly countries,” he added.
Knowledge, not ideology
Changes also appear under way at another JI-linked pesantren that ST visited, in the Boyolali regency of Central Java, about an hour’s drive away from Solo.
Established in 1994, Pesantren Darusy Syahadah has long been associated with JI for producing infamous alumni like Salik Firdaus – one of the suicide bombers who killed 20 and injured more than a hundred in Bali in 2005.
Many of its teachers were JI members, with one killed during a raid on a village in Central Java in 2006, where he was believed to have harboured Malaysian bomb expert Noordin Mohammad Top, who masterminded several bombings in Indonesia in the 2000s before being killed in a police shoot-out in 2009.
The school’s founder Mustaqim Safar conceded there was a time when it preached anti-nationalist rhetoric.
“There are still traces of JI ideological beliefs in the syllabus and these need to be erased,” he told ST.
Now, instead of extremist beliefs, its 500 or so all-male students aged between 11 and 19 study the importance of national pride and loyalty, in between learning Arabic and memorising the Quran, said Dr Mustaqim, who was the former head of JI’s da’wah committee.
In the sprawling grounds roughly the size of a small village, the students observe strict rules when it comes to their daily prayers, with their day starting at 3.30am and ending by 9.30pm.
Their days are mostly filled with study, interspersed with the occasional game of football or badminton. Mobile phones and televisions are not allowed and students are responsible for their own laundry.
The only way to get the news is to ask their “ustaz”, or religious teacher, and they are allowed to return home only three times a year – during Hari Raya Puasa, Hari Raya Haji and New Year’s Day, said student Diffaudien Al-Asqolani, 19.
For students like him, extremist ideology is far from their minds. He told ST that his intention in joining the school “is nothing about militancy”. He does, however, wax lyrical about Oemar Mita Syameela, an ustaz at the school.
Oemar is a savvy YouTuber-entrepreneur with more than half a million subscribers and several businesses that sell products ranging from religious books to health products. He is also a former JI member.
“This is the reason I came here to study... My ambition is to become a ‘da’i’ (someone who does religious outreach), who is also an entrepreneur,” said Diffaudien. - The Straits Times/ANN
