A week before the new followers of Laskar Alkalali kidnapped a frail poet, the birds around the headquarters stopped singing. The morning that was originally beautiful in the mountainous area became barren, gloomy, and increasingly frightening. What would shady trees be without the chirping of birds—even when locked in a cage, they could still chirp happily.
That's how morning came and went with its barrenness without anyone realizing that its beauty had been eroded mysteriously. No followers of Laskar Alkalali knew, or they didn't care at all. When they considered themselves as bearers of a holy mission, their eyes were already blinded by the beauty of the morning and their ears became deaf to the melodious singing of birds. Even their hearts were also blind to all the noble values carved in the holy verses above their heads when they were sworn in as loyal followers of Laskar Alkalali.
It was enough for the paintings of the holy verses above their heads to be spread so that the world would know that they were God's warriors on the path of the sword.
Until one day, a thin man was taken prisoner by loyal followers of Laskar Alkalali. The man had a name but was called the Traitor of the Word by Alkalali's followers and some others called him a heretic, because he used the beauty of words to mislead beliefs.
Alkalali's followers also spread news that the man was having an affair with his friend's wife who was also a poet. Another sin, the Traitor of the Word received funds from foreign institutions for his work as a blasphemer through verses of poetry. Especially the last sin, it was deliberately conveyed with a little doubt so that it sounded more convincing.
He was taken with both hands tied behind his back and his eyes covered with black cloth that made the world disappear from view. His steps were slumped, like a baby who had just learned to walk. He felt unbearable fatigue after traveling tens of kilometers from the city by four-wheeled vehicle, continued by two-wheeled vehicle, until finally he had to walk.
The headquarters of the Alkalali Army is located in a steep hilly area that must be reached by penetrating virgin wilderness. They use stone walls as fortresses, trees as roofs that make some of the army cells invisible from a height. No human being dares to go there, even if they get lost they will never return safely. A stray rattan seeker was given two choices, to be sworn in as a loyal follower of Laskar Alkalali or be beheaded with his eyes open.
Further reading can be found at Kompas.id.
