The following three years did little to ease his pain nor relieve the festering hate which dominated much of his conscious mind, growing in intensity, while the rest of his countrymen struggled with their own demons and ghosts and the legacy of those horrific times. Muis became inflamed as the country emerged from its perilous era, disgusted that the United States-sanctioned New Order discouraged the growth of Moslem unity through political representation, and was incensed with the rapid spread of Catholicism and other religious faiths throughout the archipelago.
It did not go unnoticed as he became more radical in his views, that the Christian religions were making startling inroads into what were predominantly Moslem communities. He seethed when he witnessed foreign missionaries, mainly youngsters of U.S. origins blatantly canvassing the country’s streets with bibles in hand, their insidious intrusion adding to his hate for all things American. He observed that the majority of Christians were of ethnic Chinese descent, and Muis clearly felt their presence, their beliefs and customs, a direct threat to his own, and in his confused mind, responsible for his family’s demise.
Devoted, Muis totally immersed himself in his religious studies. The more he learned, the more he became convinced that Indonesia would never have suffered the calamitous events of recent years had the country followed the teachings of the Prophet and believed in The One and True God and remained pure to His Ways. Muis became determined that the lintah-darat, the blood-sucking, usurious Chinese bankers who conducted their business in contradiction to Islamic teachings, should all be destroyed.
Upon graduation, he had revisited his village. There, he discovered that ownership of his father’s fields had changed hands yet again, and was now the property of the local loan sharks. He was mortified to learn that these were not only Chinese, but members of the flourishing Christian community now well established in the nearby town where they had recently constructed their church. Overcome with anger, he had returned to Surabaya where, under his mentor’s guidance, he established his own religious forum for others as disgruntled as he, and within that month, declared the existence of Indonesia’s newest Islamic organization, the Mufti Muharam.
Abdul Muis now had his vehicle to drive Indonesian Christians into the sea, and extract retribution for what he believed those associated with the Church had done to his family. He roamed the countryside speaking at Mosques and schools, his messages of hate cleverly disguised, but warmly received. Muis’ following grew at an alarming rate, reaching five hundred thousand within the first year, five million during the next, the exponential growth continuing until the Mufti Muharam finally achieved a membership of thirty million Moslems. His dream of an Islamic state finally within reach, Muis set about cultivating a relationship with the Indonesian leadership.
* * * *
The country was clearly controlled by ABRI, the nation’s military. They in turn, followed the dictates of the aging President, Suhapto. Muis made several approaches to ingratiate himself with the First Family, but was rebuffed, his chagrin such, Muis swore he would one day settle that score.
Patiently he waited for his opportunity to strike, and this, ironically, was delivered to him by the President’s ambitious, and impatient son-in-law, General Praboyo. When it became quite clear to all that President Suhapto had never intended relinquishing his crown, Muis moved to position himself for the day when Suhapto’s indisputable and powerful grip on the country finally passed to another.
Abdul Muis understood the importance of securing international support for his strategies. An Islamic state would require recognition from the Arab nations and although he believed this would be forthcoming once he had demonstrated his strengths, he examined the possibilities of establishing dialogue with Middle East leaders, arranging frequent visits to their shores. It was during one such visit to Iran, that Abdul Muis fell under the influence of the Ayatollahs and their militant persuasions.
He became convinced that Indonesia, as the world’s largest Moslem community, should never have fallen behind other nations technologically.
He sincerely believed that his country would one day be threatened by its giant neighbors, Communist China and India, both nations boasting populations in excess of one billion, both countries possessing nuclear capabilities. Muis had also come to learn that it was United States’ vested interests which had prevented Indonesia from developing its own, defensive nuclear capabilities.
Under his leadership, Abdul Muis would ensure that the Indonesian people would enjoy freedom from the fear of nuclear attack, simply by arming his nation with the technology offered by his new allies, Iran, Iraq and Osama bin Ladam.
* * * *
As Muis sat pondering the future, his thoughts were interrupted by the distant cry of a bird as it winged its way across his field of vision. He looked up, surprised, and identified the fierce, black shape, then stood, waving his arms and shouting as the crow balked and changed direction.
Although devoutly religious, Muis’ childhood had been peppered with village superstition. The despised crow not only wreaked havoc during harvest, and terrified children with their deep-throated cries, their presence was associated with evil and peasant folklore warned that these black couriers carried messages from the damned.
Unhappy with the ominous sign, Muis frowned, undertaking to have the local dukun conduct a selamatan to cleanse his property of any evil spirits before the first stone to his retreat had been laid. With that , Haji Abdul Muis strolled back to the waiting car and returned to the splendid mansion that was his in Surabaya.
Chapter Two
New York – April 1996
Mary Jo Hunter
‘Where ya goin, Lady?’ the cabby asked, stretching to catch a better glimpse of Mary Jo’s long, fine legs as she climbed into the back of the vehicle, her nostrils immediately offended by the stale, lingering odors of those who had gone before. Her baggage had been flung carelessly into the trunk, the sloppily dressed driver’s smirk already annoying Mary Jo from the moment he had arrived to take her to the airport.
‘Hong Kong,’ she answered, checking her carry-on case again for reassurance. Her hand settled on the document folder containing her passport and she relaxed slightly.
‘First time?’ he tried, his eyes glancing into the rear vision mirror admiringly.
‘Yes,’ Mary Jo responded, hoping the conversation would stop there.
‘Traveling alone?’ he inquired, impertinently, but she took no offense, half-expecting the driver to make small talk. Having lived and worked in New York’s aggressive environment for several years, Mary Jo had soon fallen into step with other residents, her smooth, well-mannered, small-town response a thing of the past.
‘Maybe,’ she said, the driver’s eyes darting to the mirror again, wisely accepting the hint. Mary Jo leaned back as the taxi jerked its way through the Midtown traffic, contemplating what lay ahead. She was on her way to JFK and her posting to the S.E. Asia bureau. She thought about the long haul, eager to get under way, in no way daunted by the twenty-four hour flight on United to Hong Kong.
Mary Jo’s thoughts were distracted by the occupant of a car traveling alongside and she smiled, observing a young woman sitting confidently 23
Kerry B. Collison
alone in the rear, her appearance reminding Mary Jo of