Photo: Jihad book collection in Jakarta Sept.21, 2009. REUTERS/Supr

A half-century ago, Washington worried about Southeast Asian nations falling like dominoes to an international communist movement backed by Maoist China, and became bogged down in the Vietnam War.

Noordin Top, believed to be the mastermind behind most of the suicide bombings in Indonesia — including the July 17 attacks on two luxury Jakarta hotels — pronounced himself to be al Qaeda’s franchise in Southeast Asia.

Top and his allies in Jemaah Islamiah (JI) aimed to create an Islamic caliphate across Indonesia, Malaysia, Singapore, southern Thailand and Southern Philippines. Even before the 9/11 suicide airliner attacks, they were trying to spark an Islamic revolution with ambitious plots and attacks.

Their young foot soldiers dreamed these pro-Western nations (which had banded together to form ASEAN under the U.S. military umbrella at the height of the Vietnam War in 1967) might fall like dominoes to the righteousness of an Islamic jihad. Their martyrdom to the cause would given them a blissful reward in Heaven.

But just as Communism was not the monolith it was feared to be in the 1960s — China and the Soviet Union had split for one thing — so too has the Southeast Asian jihadist movement failed to cohere into a singular movement.

Vietnam, it turned out, was fighting what it believed to be a war of national liberation, and was (still is) historically suspicious of China. Al Qaeda’s jihad in Southeast Asia has stumbled over similar misconceptions.

JI’s former military commander, Indonesian Riduan Isamuddin or “Hambali”, tried to pull together various insurgencies in the region under an al Qaeda umbrella before he was captured in Thailand in 2003. He even helped sponsor an “al Qaeda summit” with bin Laden’s lieutenants in Kuala Lumpur in 2000.

He failed mostly because the groups had different agendas and a fragmented leadership. The ideology that animates the movements — Islam — also prevents it from incorporating as well. The religion does not have hierarchies. People can have different views. The jihadist groups don’t do politburos.

Reuters has taken a look at these issues — including for investors in the region — in a package of stories. Click on the headlines below to read more about Southeast Asia Islamic insurgencies.

Is economic terrorism a threat to SE Asia?

A little over a year ago, then-Baghdad Bureau Chief Dean Yates, my former boss, wrote an entry on this blog entitled ‘Is the war in Iraq over?’

Before he wrote it, Dean went to a famed Baghdad park to take the pulse of ordinary Iraqis, who were then cautiously venturing out to public places for the first time in years, a tentative sign that Iraq was finally emerging from height of the violence unleashed by the 2003 invasion.

For someone who covered the much of worst of the Iraq war — the car bombs, the suicide attacks, the sectarian executions that peaked in 2006 -2007 – from our sand-bagged bunker, it must have been a small miracle to see families dotting Abu Nawas park, a green stretch of trees, swings and benches along the banks of the Tigris.

Last night, I went back to Abu Nawas, named after a poet and bon vivant of the 8th and 9th centuries, to watch Iraqis celebrate Eid, the four-day holiday marking the end of the Muslim holy month.

This time, it was a cross between Disney World and Woodstock.

We joined hundreds, if not thousands, of Iraqis as we walked along a path overlooking the river, where a yellow crescent moon gleamed back from the barely-moving water.

Packs of young men in tight T-shirts, their hair slicked back, sat on a railing checking out the other teenagers. There were vendors selling nuts, grilled meat and cotton candy.

Some families had claimed patches of the crowded lawn for picnics and others sat at plastic tables eating freshly baked meat pies. Under a tree, men smoked nargile, the water pipe stuffed with sweet tobacco. Farther on in the darkness, a crowd of men and boys danced to the sound of drums.

We were shoulder-to-shoulder with other revellers as we turned to walk home.

In a city dotted with checkpoints, where uniformed men with AK-47s stand at every corner, I didn’t see one policeman or soldier. There was none of the fear or swallowed resentment we’ve become accustomed to seeing on people’s faces as they hurry down the sidewalk or line up to be frisked.

But were other people thinking, as I was, how easily such festive gatherings can turn into tragedy? Suicide bombers continue to strike at crowded mosques, markets or tribal meetings. It was a remarkably quiet Ramadan, but  Iraqi civilians are still unsafe in the most ordinary of situations.

On Aug. 19, almost 100 people were killed at the Foreign and Finance Ministries in two huge truck bombings. People were cut down at their desks or on their way to work.

The question remains, 14 months after Dean’s blog, whether or not the Iraq war is over. What will that mean? Is the war over when the world’s attention shifts to another conflict hundreds of miles away? Is the war over when U.S. casualties plummet and it’s suddenly safer for them in Amara than in some American cities? Will national elections in January cement the positive trajectory of the past 18 months, or will they re-ignite violence and undermine hopes for a secure, stable Iraq?

I don’t have a good answer to those questions. I know it would be hard to tell the families of those killed on Aug. 19 – dubbed “Bloody Wednesday” by Iraqis – or the 126,000 U.S. troops still stationed here that the war is over.

Maybe the best response another question. What will feted Abu Nawas, and the whole of Baghdad, look like a year from now?

(Reuters photo by Thaier al-Sudani: Iraqi men celebrate the holiday marking the end of Ramadan in Baghdad)

A crucial part of gunman Mohammad Ajmal Kasab's confession at the Mumbai attack trial has been censored by the judge on the grounds that it could inflame religious tensions between Hindus and Muslims in India. After stunning the court on Monday by admitting guilt in the the three-day rampage that killed 166 people, Kasab gave further testimony on Tuesday that included details about his training by Lashkar-e-Taiba (LeT), a Pakistan-based militant group on U.S. and Indian terrorist lists.

The front-page report in today's The Hindu, which noted the judge's gag order in its sub-header, put it this way:

Ajmal made some crucial statements on Tuesday as part of his confession. They pertained to the purpose of the attack as indicated by the perpetrators and masterminds and the message they wanted to send to the government of India. Ajmal also wanted to convey a message to his handlers. However, this part of his confession faces a court ban on publication.

In view of the communally sensitive nature of Ajmal’s statements, judge M.L. Tahaliyani passed an order banning the publication and broadcast of Ajmal’s statement recorded on Tuesday by any media or person, except the part which pertains to the CST. Mr. Tahaliyani remarked that the trial was at “a delicate stage.”

Given the complex mix of religion and politics in India, it's not unusual to see the media playing down the communal aspect of tension and violence. In the recent general election, the party that usually plays up these differences, the Hindu-nationalist Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP), hardly used the "religion card" in its losing campaign. But that doesn't mean things are getting better. According to the Centre for Study of Society and Secularism in Mumbai, the "unfortunate year of 2008 ... proved to be worse than 2007." See their two-part report on 2008 here and here.

But Kasab's testimony could shed important light on what role religion plays in Islamist militancy. How could a young man who wanted to become a dacoit (bandit) be convinced by Islamist militants to try to become a shahid (martyr) instead? Was he actually convinced, or did he do it for other reasons?

(Photo: Taj Mahal hotel burns, 27 Nov 2008/Punit Paranjpe)

Kasab told the court on Monday that he originally approached the militants to get weapons and training and won (surprisingly easy) admission to their office by saying he wanted to wage jihad. He was taken in and given extensive training in preparation for the Mumbai attack last November. All of this is detailed in published accounts of his statement in court on Monday. In earlier statements, police say, he showed little understanding of Islam or jihad, saying the latter was "about killing and getting killed and becoming famous."

What role did Islamist ideology play in this, and what part the confused ambitions of a poor and impressionable young man? In a publication entitled Why Are We Waging Jihad?, Lashkar-e-Taiba listed its goals as:

1) to eliminate evil and facilitate conversion to and practice of Islam;

2) to ensure the ascendancy of Islam;

3) to force non-Muslims to pay jizya (poll tax, paid by non-Muslims for protection from a Muslim ruler);

4) to assist the weak and powerless;

5) to avenge the blood of Muslims killed by unbelievers;

6) to punish enemies for breaking promises and treaties;

7) to defend a Muslim state; and

8 ) to liberate Muslim territories under non-Muslim occupation.

Did his handlers stress all this to Kasab? Did he want to do any of the above? What did his Islamist handlers say about Hindus? If they fed him a diet of anti-Hindu hatred, might it be better to publicise the details so they can be debated and discredited? Some of the most interesting contributions to such a debate could come from Indian Muslims, who live in the kind of secular democracy the LeT rejects.

(Photo: Kasab in detention, 3 Feb 2009/video grab from CNN IBN)

I'd be especially interested to hear the reaction from the famous Darul Uloom Deoband seminary, which is a traditionalist Sunni school but has urged Muslims to reject terrorism and vote in elections against extremists.

Right now may not be the best time to publish Kasab's censored confession. But revealing it at a later date, for example after the verdict, might do more good than the harm Judge Tahaliyani fears. What do you think?

By C. Bryson Hull

Sri Lanka’s army has the Tamil Tigers on the run with a string of convincing military victories. Many people are asking if one of Asia’s longest-running civil wars is near its end after 25 years.

 Sri Lankan tanks patrol near the town of Kilinochchi (REUTERS/Buddhika Weerasingh)

Fresh from capturing the separatist rebels’ self-declared capital last week, soldiers are busy squeezing the last piece of the northern Jaffna Peninsula the Tigers still hold, hitting it from the north and south. The military and analysts say the Tigers are moving their heavy guns and toughest fighters east to the port of Mullaittivu for a final showdown .

 The Tigers say they are confident they will reverse their losses, as they have done in the past. Many also fear the Tigers will carry out more suicide bombings and guerrilla attacks in the south to compensate for the shrinking northern battlespace. 

The Tigers are now confined to a wedge of the northeast, starting to the east of the A-9 road which bisects the north, the ocean on one side and jagged line roughly following the A-34 road that terminates in Mullaittivu.

One challenge that could complicate the military offensive there is the fact that most of an estimated 230,000 civilians are located in poor conditions, which rights groups say are aggravated by both the Tigers and the government.

 Sri Lankan  commandos patrol on a military vehicle near Kilinochchi on Jan. 4 (reuters/Buddhika Weerasingh)

 Sri Lankan  commandos patrol on a military vehicle near Kilinochchi on Jan. 4 (reuters/Buddhika Weerasingh)

 Sri Lankan  commandos patrol on a military vehicle near Kilinochchi on Jan. 4 (reuters/Buddhika Weerasingh)

 Sri Lankan  commandos patrol on a military vehicle near Kilinochchi on Jan. 4 (reuters/Buddhika Weerasingh)

 Sri Lankan  commandos patrol on a military vehicle near Kilinochchi on Jan. 4 (reuters/Buddhika Weerasingh)

Add into this mix President Mahinda Rajapaksa’s apparent plans to call an early election to capitalize on the military success and 2009 is looking to be a monumental year on the Teardrop of India. With so much at stake after 25 years of combat, where do you think the war, Sri Lanka and the Tamil Tigers are heading?

Did the "Bali bombers" end up as martyrs or monsters? That's what many must be wondering after the three young men convicted of the Bali nighclub bombings in October 2002 were executed in the dead of the night last weekend in an orange grove on Java.

(Photo: Funeral of bomber Imam Samudra, 11 Nov 2008/Supri)

The run-up to the executions turned into a media circus. The three men from the Jemaah Islamiah group -- Imam Samudra, Mukhlas, and Amrozi -- were interviewed extensively by domestic and foreign media before they faced a firing squad last Sunday. They were defiant to the end, calling for more attacks like the one they perpetrated that killed 202 people, most of them foreign tourists. They had, in fact, become media celebrities and the public was fascinated with them. But as monsters or martyrs?

Mainstream Indonesia was nervous and unhappy about the public spectacle that "infuriated relatives of the victims and prolonged their pain", the Jakarta Post said.

Foreign Minister Hasan Wirajuda said the executions should not have been so publicised. "Perhaps that's the cross we have to bear in an open and democratic Indonesia," he said, using an interesting metaphor when speaking about Islamists. Thousands of people poured onto the streets for the funerals after the bodies were flown by helicopter to their home towns. People chanted "Goodbye Syuhada (heroes)" and "allahu akbar" as the bodies of Mukhlas and Amrozi were taken to an Islamic boarding school where Jemaah Islamiah's spiritual leader Abu Bakr Bashir led prayers.

The feared revenge attacks have not taken place, though Australia said it has credible information that militants may be planning some. Jemaah said the Bali attacks were intended to deter foreigners as part of drive to make Indonesia, the world's most populous Muslim country, part of a larger Islamic caliphate.

(Photo: Protester and poster of bombers, 9 Nov 2008/Beawiharta)

But leaders of the two main Muslim organisations -- Nahdlatul Ulama and Muhammadiyah who together account for nearly three-quarters of Indonesia's 230 million people -- know there is very little support for that among the Indonesian people who generally practice a tolerant brand of Islam.

"The bombers show a wrong nature of Islam," Din Syamsuddin, chairman of Muhammadiyah told the Jakarta Post. "The use of violence and attacks cannot be tolerated in our religion. "Glorifying the three Bali bombers as mujahid is a grave mistake. It stems from a delusion that such an honor can be achieved through bombings and shouting ‘Allahu Akbar’ (God is great)," said Masdar F. Mas’udi, deputy chairman of the Nahdlatul Ulama (NU).

The Bali bombers were clearly hoping their executions would give them the status of martyrs. But the classic definition of that in both Christianity and Islam are those who died defending their faith against their persecutors -- not waging an unprovoked attack on an unsuspecting population to further a vision of an Islamic caliphat in Southeast Asia.

Will the Bali Bombers go down in Muslim history as heroes or martyrs? Or will they be seen as deluded young men who were induced to commit mass murder in a time of post-911 madness?

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Following are some Reuters videos from the funeral and protests against the executions:

Here's a slideshow of pictures from the bombings to the execution of the bombers.