The ministerial decree came a week after followers of the radical Islamic Defenders Front (FPI) attacked an interfaith rally in support of Ahmadiyah. On the same day, more than 10,000 hardliners marched through downtown Jakarta demanding the group's disbandment.

Why the FPI and other like-minded groups have been allowed to get away with violent acts for so long is as puzzling as the weak-kneed way the government has dealt with the issue of a tiny Muslim community which has existed peacefully in Indonesia since the 1920s.

On the face of it, these are not complex issues. They are about enforcing the rule of law, and in Ahmadiyah's case, adhering to a Constitution that prescribes freedom of religion for all.

In banning its activities, but not Ahmadiyah itself, the government satisfies no one. It has meddled unconstitutionally in private religious beliefs, and is unlikely to deter the radicals who see the run-up to next year's elections as a good time to put President Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono under pressure.

The decision dents Indonesia's reputation for religious tolerance and represents a telling victory for the forces of Arabisation in the country in their struggle against those who want Indonesian Islam to retain its own cultural flavour and pluralistic ideals.

Critics say the ambiguity of the decree opens the door to different interpretations, and will only embolden radical elements, who will likely continue their unchecked campaign of intimidation of neighbourhood churches across West Java.

For all its relative obscurity, Ahmadiyah became a convenient target because its central tenet that Muhammad was not the last prophet - condemned as heretical by the Indonesian Council of Ulemas (MUI) - is a troubling issue for the more devout mainstream Muslims.

That has tended to weaken the position of Ahmadiyah's defenders. Among them is former president Abdurrahman Wahid, patron of the mass Muslim organisation Nahdlatul Ulama and a leading foe of FPI since it ran him off stage at an interfaith meeting in West Java two years ago.

In threatening to prosecute Ahmadiyah followers who propagate deviant teachings, the government decree sought to provide some balance by warning that legal action would be taken against those who use violence against the group.

But why was that necessary? Assault and other more serious charges - including hate crimes - are already covered in the country's comprehensive Criminal Code.

The government fears reaction from Muslims if it cracks down on hardline Islamic groups. But why doesn't that same fear extend to public repugnance of corruption and ineffective governance, which has a much greater impact on daily lives?

As Defence Minister Juwono Sudarsono pointed out recently, as long as there are 9.8million jobless and 36million living below the poverty line, there will always be angry young Indonesians attracted to Islamic radicalism. It is there, at the socio-economic level, that the cycle must be broken.

For years, the police have sat on their hands while the FPI has gone about terrorising society in the name of religion. By dressing in white robes and claiming to represent the wider Islamic community, it has inexplicably been allowed to lay claim to the moral high ground.

It is not as if the government lacks support for taking a tougher stand. The FPI's brutal June1 attack on members of the National Alliance for Freedom of Faith and Religion drew an unprecedented public outcry.

While it is unlikely the FPI will be disbanded, government security sources told The Straits Times that they had 'very high expectations' of tougher restrictions being imposed on all such violence-prone groups. This would include a ban on such groups acquiring paramilitary training and wearing uniforms.

The FPI first made its presence felt in the early days of the post-Suharto era, with violent raids on Jakarta bars and other entertainment places which legally stayed open during the Muslim fasting month.

Formed in 1998, the group is led by Mr Habib Muhammad Rizieq, a Saudi Arabia-educated religious teacher of Arab descent. A 2001 International Crisis Group report said many of its leaders are Arab.

The FPI's goal is the full implementation of Islamic law, but to maintain its relationship with the authorities, it professes support for the Constitution and has not called for an Islamic state.

In earlier years, it justified its use of violence on the grounds that the authorities had failed to enforce laws against prostitution and gambling. Police, for their part, have been accused of turning a blind eye to the attacks for dishonourable reasons.

In the wake of at least one raid in South Jakarta's Kemang district, one restaurant owner told me he later had a visit from police, who warned him he would receive protection only if he paid a monthly fee. Some of that was believed to have been destined for the FPI as well.

As late as November 2006, on a police-sponsored tour of the violence-torn Poso region in Central Sulawesi, Mr Rizieq said the police and the FPI were like 'husband and wife'.

In April 2005, 300 FPI thugs stoned the offices of the newly published Indonesian edition of Playboy, forcing it to move to the more permissive environment of Bali.

The assault had in fact been encouraged by Jakarta police chief Firman Gani, who had suggested the magazine be closed, despite the fact that its first and all subsequent editions eschewed nude photographs.

The assault occurred at a time when conservative Muslims were pressing Parliament to adopt a controversial anti-pornography law that would have banned kissing in public and essentially changed the very nature of Indonesian society.

The more extreme parts of the law were later scrapped in the face of strong public opposition. But that and the Ahmadiyah issue are reminders that as long as Indonesia wrestles with its many economic and political problems, radical Islam will always be waiting in the wings.

thane.cawdor@gmail.com

ANGRY YOUNG MEN

As long as there are 9.8 million jobless and 36 million living below the poverty line, there will always be angry young Indonesians attracted to Islamic radicalism. It is there, at the socio-economic level, that the cycle must be broken.