Caliph

Ibn Awwad’s Lecture on Al Qaeda

2001

Brethren, today I took a walk around. I found this world so beautiful.

I have a fresh breath, and I returned it with grace. I feel the real beauty of the world.

But the world out there has been corrupted. That doesn’t need to happen if the world doesn’t need to be littered with greed from the United States. Yes, if only the United States does not exist on earth.

This world will undoubtedly be better.

Brotherhood, today I also remember that I will not be forever in the world. As soon as possible, I have to carry out my mission. My army is ready. My troops will do as I say. I will end the pathetic era of this world. I hope all will succeed. Even though there will be victims.

I have decided to give all my knowledge to you, my troops, and my Mujahideen. However, I must have a successor. And I have to choose the best people to carry out my plan.

The leader of my successor must be given to a man. A strong man who upholds our teachings. Right now, I haven’t found anyone like that. My soldiers are great people. But the person I need is not among them yet. I have to visit several places to seek him.

I have to do it quickly.

This struggle is not about someone. Not also about an organization. We are citizens of an Islamic state. Our Prophet is Muhammad, and our Lord is Allah. All believers are brothers.

If the enemies of Islam think that this struggle is about one organization, then they are wrong. That is a concept that has long been abandoned.

We haven’t used it in a long time.

We have experienced creating a center of struggle in eliminating Soviet troops. Now we have grown and developed. We are not separated from any country. We are united, and integrated, and are in Afghanistan, Iraq, Iran, the Philippines, Indonesia, Malaysia, etc.

We are the country itself.

I am a mission holder.

I believe that I am the savior. I held fast to my belief even though, at first, many people doubted me. I did not care, no need to wait long. Even at this time, people began to acknowledge me.

We will destroy America, as we have eliminated the Soviets until the dissolution of that country.

But first, we must open the eyes of Muslims around the world. They must know the real face of America. I will prove it. The giant demons will show their real faces.

After they invade Muslim countries, local powers will arise throughout the world.

It’s an Extraordinary Muslim power.

After that, awareness of the obligation to fight America will naturally arise and spread throughout the Islamic countries. Muslims around the world will unite, and then no one will be able to defeat us.

The American economy will be destroyed in no more than twenty years, like what happened to the Soviets.

Under the leadership of Mullah Omar, Afghanistan will be the only Islamic country to lead the world.

I am the jihad leader, and we must fight all those who try to prevent the establishment of Islamic law. The Scholars must unite, and also those people who have access to weapons.

Jihad must be declared so that injustice against Muslims can be eliminated. America and Israel must be destroyed from this world. America, Israel, and all pagan countries made this world fall into disobedience.

In the next few days, I will move our hiding place. I think this is one good strategy to make myself even more untraceable. I will control my army while moving around. The glory of the Islamic military will re-emerge and rules the world. I will continue my duty as a leader to bring the world to its knees under our feet.

What I did in New York has shown remarkable success. I planned to do so very carefully and flawlessly. The results were very satisfying to me. I will carry out my next plan to beat up the demon that stands astride. Just in time, our struggle will meet with results.

I will also make a nuclear bomb. But to do that, I need lots of resources. Besides that, I need a nuclear expert. The funds will undoubtedly be substantial, and the facilities required are also no less significant. That’s no problem, everything will be easily obtained. I’m rich, and so are my supporters.

Nothing is impossible. Even America has now begun to its knees.

On several occasions, I looked back at my plans and their achievements. In my entire life, I have never had such a success story. Not in vain all the effort I put in. I had suffered several times. Now everything pays off. America is suffering and will be suffered even more. Slowly but surely, I will see my plan meet success.

I just have to find the right person to replace me someday while I built my army. I’m sure it will work.

The time is near. Every moment is precious. This world is getting messed up. Therefore I, as a savior, must act immediately. Everything must be done, and I will do it.

Rais, 2002

Rais had led his company several times. He had mastered corporate strategies, even more than people who had been in multinational companies for years. His genius in formulating a strategy had made Hoetomo, Inc. regain control of the market. But Rais felt that it was not his main mission. A few days after his company topped the capital market again, Rais went to see his father.

He told his father that he would travel around America, even the world, to learn many things. His real motivation was that he wanted to see the extent of the effects of 9/11 on Muslims in America.

Therefore, his company will be temporarily held back by his father.

However, Rais had shown that he is the right man to run Hoetomo, Inc.

Rais began his journey from California. He had never visited Sacramento in his entire life. This time Rais felt he had to because there were things for him to follow. Besides, he had heard how tolerant Sacramento residents are to citizens of any background.

In Sacramento, he found a refreshing view of seawater that was blue and clean.

What attracted him was the news he received that a man named Abdul Aziz was promoting himself as a member of Congress.

Rais wanted to see the public reaction that he heard was tolerant of a Muslim of Arab descent’s nomination to a place in Congress.

Especially since 9/11.

Rais became acquainted with Abdul Aziz and offered to help Abdul Aziz on that man’s campaign. At first, Rais was surprised because Abdul Aziz was not at all what he had expected. From his appearance, Abdul Aziz was not at all like an Arab. He had brown hair, fair skin, and green eyes.

In the beginning, they went door-to-door campaign. No one was seen in the houses. But after ringing the bell in several places, finally, someone opened the door.

“Hi, my name is Abdul Aziz. I am running for a congressman in your district.” Abdul Aziz handed that person his campaign brochure.

The person who opened the door, apparently a married couple, was silent for a few moments. They then muttered, as if Rais and Abdul Aziz were not there.

“Sir and Madam, forgive my impudence. But if you have something to say, please be willing to share it. I will be very grateful for that.” Abdul Aziz said.

“Abdul Aziz, hmm...with that name, I don’t think there’s a chance for you.” said the man.

“Yes, I think so.” His wife said.

Rais was about to react, but Abdul Aziz held him back.

Abdul Aziz answered the couple, “I was born in Egypt and grew up in Sacramento. I am a Harvard graduate and intend to advance to become a Congress member because I care about our foreign policy.” He explained.

The Wife responded, “We want to know who you stand on,” she said, “Because once people hear your name, people will think not to deal with you.”

Abdul Aziz then explained what he would fight for. He opposed the war in Afghanistan and intended to withdraw troops and bring peace to the world. Rais found the couple’s expression was changing. But it seemed that what Abdul Aziz said was not enough for them.

After some discussion, Rais and Abdul Aziz took their leave. On the way, Rais asked Abdul Aziz why he wanted to fight so, even though this would only embarrass him.

“You are a successful lawyer. You don’t even need to bother to jump into the area where we will get an expression of hatred because of our religion.” Rais said as they walked.

“Someone has to do it, brother. If it’s not us, who else?” Abdul Aziz answered.

Throughout their campaign from house to house, they could not convince the people they met except for one person who was kind enough to respond.

Sacramento’s hot weather combined with the people’s cold reaction to the Abdul Aziz campaign made Rais a little bit doubting the success of their plans. At first, he thought that the Sacramento people were open-minded.

But later, Rais wondered if they should find a way other than this.

Rais was curious about what the real motivation of Abdul Aziz was. But they had just gotten to know it, and Rais did not feel comfortable asking such things to people he had just met, although the person was a fellow Muslim brother.

“So, Abdul, are you going to continue this campaign?” Rais finally asked.

“Do you feel we are doing the right thing?” He continued.

Abdul Aziz smiled.

“There are more than one hundred thousand votes that I have to win,” he said. “I’m not campaigning to win, my brother.”

“Then what?”

“I fought for the generation of Muslims after us, to make them have chances.”

Rais & Abdul Aziz, 2002

“Islam has developed rapidly in the world, including in our country, Rais. We will even become the second largest religion here,” said Abdul Aziz.

“Until the September eleven tragedy happened and screwed it all up,” said Rais.

“Brother, all of this is Allah’s will. Even we have to thank the attackers.”

“What do you mean?”

“You see, after the attack, we were under strict FBI surveillance. We feel intimidated. Our mosques, our homes, even our schools are monitored. They treat all Muslims in our country like suspects, even some television portrays Islam as an enemy of the state.

“But you can see that today our brothers and sisters are spiritually stronger. They explore Islam more actively to ensure and prove that their teachings are not as alleged.

“More and more Muslim women are veiled. This shows us that we must prove to our country what Islam is.”

“By making sure all Muslim women wear the hijab?”

Abdul Aziz smiled.

“Muslim women began wearing the hijab as solidarity after September 11th. Besides, they also wear it as a symbol and self-identity, but each other’s life choices. Muslimah, who wears the hijab, does not mean she is better than Muslimah without hijab and vice versa. They are both Muslimah for sure.” Abdul Aziz said.

Rais agreed in his heart.

He remembered Malikha.

Somewhere in America, 2002

As time passed, many people questioned where Rais Hoetomo had gone. He was known as a young genius who had only been active for a few months on the board of directors of Hoetomo, Inc.

Rais’ disappearance without any trace certainly raised many questions.

The rest was just gossip.

“Is he on vacation around the world?”

“Or did he move to Europe and marry the girl he met there?”

“Maybe he was driving around spending his money in Las Vegas casinos without anyone recognizing him,”

“I heard he had plastic surgery,”

“Don’t tell me that now he is turning himself into an android.”

“Is he still alive?”

“Maybe he finally found peace.”

“It could be that he has become a monk.”

All the gossip and rumors about him were so lively that they graced the lives of people in Hoetomo, Inc. After all, he was a new idol there, even though he had only been working for a few weeks. The fact that he suddenly disappeared without any trace made everyone talk about it.

As time passed, people began to get busy again with their business and respective jobs. Their talks about Rais Hoetomo gradually disappeared.

Maybe people were already thinking: Rais Hoetomo is dead.

Almost all people thought like that but not with three people: a man and two women.

They knew that Rais Hoetomo disappeared, but he did not just disappear. They also knew what Rais Hoetomo was doing and looking for in his disappearance.

The man was Pandji Hoetomo, a father who idolized Rais and trusted him completely.

One of the women was Maryam Hoetomo, who conceived, gave birth to, and raised Rais. She understood Rais’ soul and loved him more than anything in the world.

The last woman was Malikha Russel.

Rais, 2003

Only a few people knew about Rais’ whereabouts.

From his connection with Interpol, Rais found out that Al Qaeda will conduct another attack against America. If that happened, then Muslims, including Rais, would suffer more. They would be targeted by hatred more than this time.

Rais decided that he must prevent this attack. But he didn’t know where to begin. He didn’t know where Al Qaeda’s headquarter is.

Rais concluded that he must make Al Qaeda find him.

For the umpteenth time, Rais tried to get up and fight again. He had returned to the journey of martial arts. The coach didn’t care about who Rais was at all. He fielded Rais in street life. Rais was forced to survive in a lower-class society, which was on the other side of America. Thus, Rais must be accustomed to facing street battles, even though he must be killed.

Rais was left struggling to survive in the practice arena.

Every time he was in a fight, there was pain.

His opponent would not be merciful, even though Rais was at its worst. Indeed, this was what he wanted, and Rais paid dearly for that.

Rais practiced whatever he could. He forged himself by lifting weights, pulling chains, climbing buildings, and even hitting tractor tires. At the end of the day, his body was destroyed. He had weak muscles, his back hurt, his head throbbed, and his legs felt like he couldn’t be moved forever. But everything returned to normal the next day.

The coach didn’t care because that’s what he gets paid for. Rais practiced not only at the gym but was brought to real life. Rais was introduced to his friends in heavy industries, and Rais was an illegal immigrant from Indonesia who needed a job. This immigrant would do anything to survive, as long as he got food.

Since then, things had gotten worse. Rais was treated like a prisoner. A foreman was muscular and ordered him to carry hundreds of kilograms of concrete every day. Rais did not expect to receive such treatment.

“Do it and don’t complain!” said the foreman.

When Rais could not meet the target, he got kicked and punched in the face and his solar plexus. Rais collapsed, but the foreman just continued to kick Rais’ stomach. Rais could only hold and protect himself amid the pain.

The next day, a group of senior workers’ gangs struck him. They had no reason to do that to Rais. It’s just that the burden of life was so high that they need an outlet.

All kinds of tools were used by them. Pliers, screwdrivers, trash bins, and even bare hands all landed on Rais’ body.

Rais survived and hoped that it would all pass soon. The shouts of the “Muslim devil” accompanied his torture.

After all of that, Rais then went to the bathroom and cleaned his wounds. Dirty water soaked his body even so. It felt so soothing. Rais knew that he chose this path. He also understood the consequences of his choice.

So, he accepted himself as a target for venting anger toward those who tortured him. He did not like them, especially after fresh blood flooded his body. But he was willing because he wanted to learn from them.

The next day the attack occurred again. At this time, Rais was ready to take the beatings. The basics of martial arts, which he mastered, allowed him to position his balance against his attackers.

The attackers were aware that this boy had begun to improve.

And it’s true.

Rais’ fighting skills weren’t just in the arena. He had begun to master the street fight. All the principles of recognizing your enemy first, knowing their strengths, then their weaknesses, were indeed entered into Rais’ instincts.

Also, to determine the time to attack.

Rais could begin to determine what kind of attack should be carried out against each enemy type. Some people were tall and far more muscular than him. Then he used his deduction to deceive the person. He was not afraid. Instead, he felt himself to have them knocked out.

As for intelligence, Rais was clearly above this person.

When they were at the top of the building, Rais challenged the person to a one-on-one duel.

The person was stunned.

“How could this kid be so confident?” they said.

When everyone left, Rais also carried out his fighting technique. It’s just that everything is not as he imagined. Not as easy as he had in mind.

The Big One began to move.

When Rais had felt that he was strong enough, The Big One beat him mercilessly, with a speed that he never expected.

Malikha, 2003

Malikha Russel was waiting for news from Rais. Every day she checked her cell phone until the object vibrated. She hoped that it was news from Rais, although finally she must be disappointed.

But every day, she always checked her cell phone. All she found were messages about work and work problems.

Various kinds of thoughts flashed in her mind.

Where is he?

Is he okay?

Why is there no news at all?

Is he still alive?

Malikha stared at Malikha Nature. She still imagined Rais’ figure in the early morning, who stood motionless in the hydroponic garden. However, Rais seemed to enjoy it at the time.

Malikha took her cell phone. He looked at Rais’ contact number and then hugged the cell phone.

And she felt it.

It’s warm.

Rais, 2003

Rais had become someone new. He was far from Rais Hoetomo three years ago, an arrogant genius who always got all of his desires without difficulty, even though it came from his efforts.

For the first time, Rais felt lonely. He was weak and exhausted. Rais must have involved his muscles in everything he did, and this was beyond what Rais thought so far, that people who work with the brain were far more respectable. Here, Rais almost died because he had to work with his muscles.

To be survived, that’s all he could rely on. The trainer didn’t give a damn, just kept running until he became a true knight.

Rais thought, since when did he not touch the bed and the room with heat?

He could no longer remember when was the last time he showered with warm water.

Rais sat back in the building where he worked. He looked at the sky that started to rain. Then he looked around. Tarpaulins used by workers to take shelter were everywhere. Under the tarpaulins, the workers ate and mingled. Rais wanted to join them.

He dared himself to stand up and joined one of the tarps. Some people in there looked at him suspiciously. But some looked at Rais with a look of pity. So, one of them gave him a piece of bread and then told him to go away.

Rais was disappointed.

His heart ached.

He left with a piece of bread given by a kind worker. But that couldn’t cure his injured heart.

He also took himself to the streets. He saw the children’s vagrancy. So, he gave them a piece of bread and a few dollars leftover. After that, he felt his stomach twist. It turned out that he hadn’t eaten either.

He still saw the sky that brought down the rain. He raised his face and opened his mouth. Rainwater was enough to fill his stomach for a while. At least it made his hunger disappear. People looked at him, but he didn’t care.

Gradually, Rais had mastered the ways to hold hunger. Besides, to save his need besides drinking rainwater, he also propped his stomach with stones.

He was a part of an oppressed society in an oppressed world.