Critical Reflections on De-Radicalisation in Indonesia

Since 9/11 western and non-western governments have implemented counter-counter terrorism and de-radicalisation programs to “inoculate Muslim populations” and de-radicalise those deemed as radicalised through securitization and “moderate Islam”. The Indonesian government and civil society organizations have attempted to address radicalisation by setting up counter-radicalisation and de-radicalisation programs. This paper will critically reflect on the Indonesian de-radicalisation programs. It will first critically discuss the terms radicalisation and de-radicalisation. Then critically assess the Indonesian de-radicalisation programs. In the final section, the author suggests that Indonesia needs to introduce humanitarian activities to make the de-radicalisation programs more effective and overcome labelling and stigmatization.


INTRODUCTION
Terrorism has become a significant policy concern for some Southeast Asian countries, such as Singapore, Malaysia and Indonesia. After the Bali bombings in 2002, Southeast Asia was viewed by the US as the second layer in the global war against terrorism (Aslam et al., 2016;Tan, 2003). Since that proclamation in 2002, the terror threat in Southeast Asia has increased exponentially and become multidimensional. Numerous terrorist attacks have been carried out in the Philippines, Thailand and Indonesia over the past decade and a half (Associated Press, 2012;Westerman, 2017). Apart from Southeast Asia experiencing political violence, terrorism and ethnic violence, over 900 foreign fighters from the region had travelled to Syria and Iraq to engage in its ongoing civil war (Chassman, 2016;The Soufan Group, 2015). This number does not account for the women and children who had travelled to Syria and Iraq seeking marriage or a new life (The Soufan Group, 2015). Some of these individuals are now returning to their respective countries and may have acquired extremist ideas akin to those peddled by extremist groups such as Al Qaida and ISIS and may therefore pose a security threat.
Returnees from Syria and Iraq in some cases pose a danger in their home countries, as they may become conduits for extremism and even launch attacks on home soil (Singh, 2016). The possibility of homegrown terrorism has also increased (Chan, 2016). The recent suicide bombings of three churches in Surabaya by a family of six who had returned from Syria highlights the danger returnees can pose to their own countries (BBC, 2018). This terror attack also adds another dimension to the already multi-dimensional threat of terrorism, as it was the first-time suicide bombings involved an entire family (Jones, 2018). The multi-dimensional threat of terrorism is reflected by the re-cent conflict in Marawi City in Mindanao, where local and foreign fighters, some of them from the Southeast Asia region who had fought in Syria and Iraq seized control over various parts of the city (Habulan et al., 2018).
As a consequence of local, regional and global terrorist threats, Southeast Asian governments have introduced several counter-terrorism measures in order to curb the threat. However, one of the critical areas of focus has been the establishment of de-radicalisation programs in Southeast Asia, which are deemed a deprogramming tool. The programs were first introduced to address Jemaah Islamiyah (JI) radicalisation but now cater for returnees from Syria, which include men, women and families. These initial programs primarily aimed to remove the radical ideology from an individual who has been deemed to be a radical (Rabasa et al., 2010). However, over the years these programs have evolved and now also include vocational training and entrepreneurship schemes, which are have been established by the state and civil society groups.
Although terrorism is a concern for many Southeast Asian countries, this paper will only focus on Indonesia. First it will highlight the conceptual issues surrounding the terms 'radicalisation' and 'de-radicalisation.' Secondly, it will conduct a critical review of the effectiveness of de-radicalisation programs in Indonesia. Finally, it will suggest an alternative model of de-radicalisation, one that involves a humanitarian approach. The central thesis of this paper is that deradicalisation is not achievable, and the current programs in Indonesia are not effective for several economic and political reasons. The author suggests that if the Indonesian programs are to be successful, the state and civil society groups need to work together to establish longterm programs that include economic and entrepreneurship schemes and humanitarian initiatives, because radicalisation is primarily caused by unjust treatment of an identifiable and relatable group, such as religious or ethnic groups. Such an approach will more likely convince extremists to focus on low risk and high impact/ high reward because it addresses their core concerns. The author advocates activities that focus on humanitarian issues and which are aimed to have an immediate impact on the lives of Muslims and non-Muslims in Indonesia, as well as other countries.

Problematising Radicalisation and De-Radicalisation
Although the two definitions of radicalisation focus on two ends of the process, some academics deem psychological radicalisation as more important than ideological because of its connection to violence (Sageman, 2017). They argue that many people may hold extremist or radical ideas but very few "act" on them in violent ways, and therefore it is more important to focus on the acting. However, others contend that ideology is a precursor to violence and therefore should not be ignored (Neuman, 2013).
However, these definitions are not without criticism. Some authors have called radicalisation a myth (Hoskins andO'Loughlin, 2009). Others, like Mark Sedgewick (2010), argue that the concept of radicalisation over-emphasises ideology and de-emphasises the non-ideological circumstances that lead one to become radicalised. Numerous authors have argued that non-ideological factors cause radicalisation. These factors include, amongst many, the foreign policies of Western states (the unilateral invasions of Afghanistan and Iraq) under the guise of the War on Terror, the Israel-Palestine conflict, and support for authoritarian regimes in Arab states (Demant and Graaf, 2010;El-Said, 2015;Ganor, 2002;Hegghammer and Wagemakers, 2013;Kuhle and Lindekilde, 2012;Kundnani, 2014;Lutz and Lutz, 2015;Ramakrishna, 2014;Sageman, 2014;Schmid, 2013;Sedgewick, 2010). Other possible motivations for the radicalisation process include thrillseeking, identity seeking and the desire for personal revenge (Schmid, 2013). The latter motivations have often been connected to Muslims from Muslim minority countries and foreign fighters in Syria and Iraq. Kundnani (2014) claims that the concept of radicalisation from the outset was designed to serve the interests of the state. As such, it engenders Islamophobia. Schuurman and Taylor (2018) contend that critics have deemed radicalisation as being subjective, lacking in an agreed definition, linear and deterministic. Silva (2018) argues that governments ignore critical research in favour of research that is in line with their agenda. Nasser-Eddine et al. Neuman (2013) correctly highlight that radicalisation experts only agree on the fact that radicalisation is a process.
Despite criticism, governments still have to prevent radicalisation, especially those that deem themselves to be at risk of political or terrorist violence. However, deciding on a strategy for how to do this will depend on which definition a government adopts as this will determine how a government decides to prevent radicalisation and address the concerns posed by those believed to have been radicalised or engaged in political or terrorist violence.
How a government understands radicalisation will not only determine its strategy to prevent radicalisation but also how to "deal with" those that are deemed as being radicalised, or who have engaged in political or terrorist violence. In the case of radicalised Muslims, the goal in most Muslim majority and minority countries is to de-radicalise them by correcting their understanding of Islam, and, depending on the country, offer them an opportunity to disengage from the group and violence through offering life skills training or business opportunities (Silke Copyright © 2020, Otoritas : Jurnal Ilmu Pemerintahan, ISSN: 2088-3706 (Print), ISSN: 2502-9320 (Online) and Veldhuis, 2017). This situation is such because these countries deem Islam to be the cause of radicalisation, thus almost all de-radicalisation programs primarily focus on countering the radical ideology and religious doctrine of "Islamist" terrorists (Irwin, 2015). Although deradicalisation and disengagement are often used interchangeably to mean the same thing, in reality they are different (Schmid, 2013;Pettinger, 2017). De-radicalisation can be understood as renouncing extremist ideas, while disengagement and similar processes such as rehabilitation refer to renouncing violence (Silva, 2018). Often governments develop de-radicalisation programs by using a mixture of both approaches, in the hope that deradicalisation will lead to disengagement (Silke and Veldhuis, 2017;Anindya, 2018). However, the reality seems to be that disengagement is more likely than de-radicalisation (Schmid, 2013). Perhaps the biggest problem with the de-radicalisation programs is that they are plagued with a lack of clear empirical criteria to evaluate their success, which has in the past led government officials and de-radicalisation agents to grossly exaggerate the success of their programs (Koehler, 2017). This could partly be due to the overwhelming ideological focus of programs to de-radicalise detainees, which fail to really understand, or even ignore, the reasons individuals become radicalised and (intend to) engage in violence.
Regardless of definitional issues, what matters is whether the programs are successful. In the following section, I assess whether the de-radicalisation and disengagement programs developed and implemented in Indonesia are successful.
How About Indonesia?
Although terms like radicalisation and de-radicalisation are popular among the public, governments, think tanks and the media, they mask the definitional problems associated with both concepts. This then impacts how the public, the state, the media and academics understand the phenomena of radicalisation and how to address the problem at the international, state and local level. Over the last few decades, radicalisation has been connected to Muslims (Lynch, 2013) but this has changed over the past year, with more focus on right-wing radicalisation (BBC, 2019;Butcher;Luxen, 2019). In the case of Muslims, radicalisation is deemed as being caused by "extremist" Islamic teachings (Mazlan et al., 2017;Tackling Extremism, 2013). The logical consequence of this understanding is that the geopolitical security apparatus, the state security apparatus, international NGOs, and strategies emanating from such an understanding, focus on disseminating a "moderate," often stateorientated, understanding of Islam to prevent radicalisation and carry out deradicalisation (Rabasa et al., 2004;Mazlan et al., 2017). This understanding is then superimposed on other possible causes for why an individual decided to adopt extremist ideas or engage in violence, such as local sociopolitical issues and international conflicts. The superimposing is problematic because it forecloses a nuanced understanding of radicalisation, which is not based on Islam being the conduit for radicalisation.
Since 9/11 the literature covering terrorism has rapidly increased (Neuman, 2013;Silva, 2018), resulting in many theories and models being developed to prevent and detect radicalised individuals. The aim of all of the models, as Neuman (2008: 4) notes, is to identify "what goes on before the bomb goes off." However, "radicalisation" has many definitions. For example, Borum (2011) and Schmid (2013) have identified several definitions employed by academics and governments, the two main ways in which radicalisation is defined is ideological and psychological (Sageman, 2017; Neumann, Copyright © 2020, Otoritas : Jurnal Ilmu Pemerintahan, ISSN: 2088-3706 (Print), ISSN: 2502-9320 (Online) 2013). Ideological radicalisation refers to an ideological shift: acquiring extremist ideas (i.e. ideas that are opposed to society's values, such as supremacist ideologies or ideologies that reject democratic values and human rights, which alter an individual's behaviour). In the case of Muslims, this is the acquisition of ideas and understandings based on a literal interpretation of Islam. Psychological radicalisation refers to a further shift: acting on the ideas in violent ways. In the case of Muslims this means using violence to forward the individual or group cause, such Al Qaeda and ISIS or affiliate groups. Although these definitions appear to be separate, a closer reading suggests that they are connected because ideological radicalisation is deemed to lead to psychological radicalisation (Neumann, 2013;Sageman, 2017). These definitions have enabled governments to assess whether their country faces more risk from ideological or psychological radicalisation; the British government, for example, has adopted both definitions as part of its counterterrorism strategy because it sees ideological radicalisation as leading to psychological radicalisation (Prevent UK, 2011).
Despite the distinction between ideological and psychological radicalisation, there remains vagueness and difference around what constitutes ideological radicalisation and what academics and governments should focus on to further understanding and develop policies. The ambiguity around what constitutes ideological radicalisation rests on what count as "extremist" or "radical" ideas, which differs depending on the context (Neumann, 2013). Hence, what is deemed extremist or radical in one context differs from another, resulting in a different configuration of ideas and beliefs that society and government deem as "dangerous" and constituting radicalisation. Therefore, definitions of radicalisation developed in the West may not be suitable for Muslim majority countries because the sociopolitical environments and connected values and norms are different. Applying such definitions is likely to capture phenomena that reflect Western understandings of extremism and radicalism, rather than grasping the reality on the ground in Muslim majority countries.
In the first decade of the 21st century, Indonesia experienced a spate of terrorist acts -namely, the 2002 and 2005 Bali bombings, the 2003 J.W. Marriott Hotel bombing and the 2005 Australian embassy bombing (Osman, 2014). The perpetrators of those attacks belonged to the notorious terrorist organisation Jemaah Islamiyah (JI). Since those attacks, the Indonesian government has detained more than 300 JI members. In November 2015, the Indonesian government officially stated that 700 Indonesians had travelled to Syria in order to engage in its ongoing civil war (The Soufan Group, 2015). This number is an estimate, and the actual number could be either higher or lower. The Soufan Group (2015) also found that at least 162 Indonesians have returned to Indonesia, with some of these returnees having fought for the Islamic State in Iraq and Syria (ISIS). This number is also an estimate because it does not include those that have re-entered Indonesia undetected. This situation indicates that there is a prolonged struggle within Indonesia to prevent radicalisation.

De-Radicalisation and Disengagement
In Indonesia, the government and local civil society groups have rolled out several programs, which are a mixture of de-radicalisation and disengagement initiatives. The Indonesian government's first program was aimed at JI members who had been convicted of terrorism offences and focused more on disengagement. De-radicalization also played a role in the program because radicalisation in Indonesia is seen to be caused by literal understandings of Islam, which is often connected to the type of Islam practiced Copyright © 2020, Otoritas : Jurnal Ilmu Pemerintahan, ISSN: 2088-3706 (Print), ISSN: 2502-9320 (Online) in Saudi Arabia and is contrary to the principles of the Pancasila and local Islam. However, as mentioned in earlier sections, such an understanding may overlook who and how local sociopolitical and international conflicts may lead to individuals acquiring extremist ideas and, in some cases, engaging in violence.
The de-radicalisation of the detainees involved offering them a contextualised reading of Islam and key terms that are often employed by extremist groups, such as jihad, dar al harb and dar al islam and sharia to persuade them to adhere to a moderate version of Islam and Pancasila. The program was based in prison and set up by Suryadharma, the head of Densus 88 (the police counterterrorism team) and continued under his successor, Tito Karnavian (Hwang, 2018). The approach was dubbed the "soft approach" because of its humane outlook (Rabasa et al., 2010) and centred on Densus 88 officers building relationships with the detainees (Istiqomah, 2011;Sukabdi, 2015). This often resulted in the officers praying alongside the detainees and shared iftar (break of fast), and in some cases facilitated the marriages of the detainees and support for their families (Abuza, 2009;Rabasa et al., 2010;Hwang, 2018). In some cases, officers rewarded compliant detainees with perks such as better detention conditions and reduced sentences (Osman, 2014). This approach was adopted because it was deemed that by treating the detainees humanely, they would be more malleable for intelligence gathering (Hwang, 2018).
The de-radicalisation part of the program was conducted by former terrorists Nasir bin Abas and Ali Imron. Abas is a former member of JI and fought in the Afghan war against the Soviet Union during the 1980s, while Imron was involved in the ethnic conflict in Amon during the early 2000s (Abuza, 2009;Hwang, 2018). Involving former extremists, especially those that have had combat experience, is deemed vital because they not only have credibility but also garner respect among the detainees due to their past exploits (Hwang, 2018;Abuza, 2009). Former extremists often leave a more profound impact on detainees than moderate figures and can clarify and contextualise specific Islamic ideas that are used by extremist groups to foster disunity and engender violence, such as those mentioned earlier (Osman, 2014). Abas and Imron's involvement in the program did result in some success because they managed to convince detainees to renounce violence as a means to achieve political goals (Aslam et al., 2016).
For all the success and the humane outlook of the program, it was beset with problems. Firstly, the program was never set up for de-radicalisation. Its primary aim was intelligence gathering (Rabasa et al., 2010;Hwang, 2018). Secondly, detainees complained about being tortured by Densus 88 officers. Thirdly, the program was ad hoc and underfunded, which ensured that it failed.
Since the initial program, the Indonesian government and local civil society groups have set up other de-radicalisation and disengagement programs to cater for Indonesians who have been deported from various countries for being radicalised, having aspirations to join an extremist or terrorist group, or for fighting in the Syrian civil war (Sumpter, 2018). The deportees and returnees include men, women and children (Au, 2019). These individuals are deemed as posing a significant security risk because some of them have had military training and have frontline fighting experience and could carry out attacks in Indonesia (Mcbeth, 2019).
The government's program lasts for one month and involves psychological assessment for the level of radicalisation, which is based on using Islam as an indicator; religious re-education (moderate Islam); life coaching (counselling and life skills); signing a contract to abide by the Pancasila; and after-care (Anindya, 2019). Like the previous program, the government deems radicalisation as being caused by an "incorrect" understanding of Islam, which is clear from the indicators used by psychologists and the use of imams to persuade detainee to adopt a moderate understanding of Islam. This approach does not appear to be entirely successful because some deportees upon release still deem the Indonesian government as un-Islamic (Anindya, 2019). The program also employs "forceful persuasion" tactics to convince the deportees to sign a contract that states that they will abide by the Pancasila (Sumpter, 2019). The after-care part of the program is organised and delivered by local civil society groups, which focus on training deportees with life skills and helping them to find a sustainable form of employment or establish a business (Anindya, 2019). The ultimate aim of such programs is to ensure that the detainees do not return to the old networks and engage in violence.
However, like the Indonesian government's first program, the current program is beset with similar problems. These problems include the length of the programs, organisational concerns such as lack of resources, disorganisation between stakeholders, competition between stakeholders, lack of training for employees, use of force and no clear guidelines for or understanding of different aspects of the program (Anindya, 2019). Finally, the program does not address the core motivations of the detainees for why they became radicalised and engaged in terrorism. As mentioned earlier, motivations are sociopolitical or connected to international conflicts where fellow members of an ethnic, national or religious group are experiencing injustice at the hands of a more powerful other (Agnew, 2010). Such motivations are apparent in the cases of men and women who are sympathetic to or join extremist and terrorist groups like ISIS (Borum and Fein, 2017;Agnew, 2010;Nilsson, 2015;Malet, 2015).
Aside from the Indonesian government's de-radicalisation programs, there are civil society groups that have set up programs that mainly focus on disengagement. The civil society groups do not emphasise de-radicalisation because there is a tacit recognition that de-radicalisation is not possible (Osman, 2014). In spite of this recognition, the programs do have a de-radicalisation component, which could be at request of foreign funders or the government. he programs are structured around three key areas -life skills training, business entrepreneurship and deradicalisation. The program set up by Yayasan Prasasti Perdamaian (YPP) has gained a lot of international acclaims and media coverage for its approach to disengagement (Power, 2018). The program focuses on providing life skills and opportunities for business ventures for extremists who have decided to disengage from extremist groups and violence. Through this approach YPP aim to foster economic conditions that are favourable for successful disengagement and ultimate renunciation of extremist ideas. The business ventures include cafes, restaurants and t-shirt printing (Hwang, 2018). Although the program does not explicitly focus on religious re-education, it is introduced during the latter part of the program. The success of the program seems to rest on three factors -trust/loyaltybuilding, assistance with personal matters and help to establish a sustainable business. However, the program only seems to work with those who are "interested" in disengagement and those who have already renounced extremist ideas before they enrol on the program. Hence, the experience of being imprisoned and discovery of ideological differences with other extremists (Osman, 2014)  2008). This begs the question of whether the success of the program is really due to the program or whether the prisoners were already disengaged, and the program just offers an opportunity to start a new life. Silke (2011) argues that most terrorists disengage without going through a de-radicalisation program because of their experience of being part of a terrorist group. If this is the case for the YPP program, then it can be argued that the program is less about disengagement and more about welfare support, upskilling and business entrepreneurship. Furthermore, like most programs that aim to either de-radicalise or disengage extremists, there is no "sure way" of measure if the individual has "truly been de-radicalised or will never re-engage in violence" apart from employing the criteria of non-recidivism (Horgan, 2009;Horgan and Braddock, 2010). Additionally, abandoning extremist ideas or disengaging from violence may only be selective or conditional depending on continued assistance or "no provocative actions" by the adversary (Hwang, et al., 2013;Clubb, 2009;Rasba et al., 2010).
Other civil society groups working in the area of de-radicalisation also employ a similar approach to YPP. Search for Common Ground "conducts workshops in prisons on anger management and conflict resolution for high and low-risk detainees" (Osman, 2014: 224;Hwang, 2018). The organisation offers seed money to encourage detainees to disengage and has a dual aim. The first is to prevent the detainees from re-joining their former groups and, secondly, to train the detainees in conflict resolution, so that they can implement the training in their own lives and train others (Hwang, 2018). However, the program only attracts low risk and less dangerous detainees, rather than the high-risk ones. The program can be understood as both a success and a failure. It is a success because it has diverted lowrisk detainees from "possibly" engaging in violence in the future and provided them with tools to negotiate their way out of conflicts. It is unsuccessful because highrisk detainees who could influence lowrisk detainees and others post-release have not shown any interest. Other initiatives have included coaching the wives of the detainees to be self-sufficient through the establishment of home-based businesses (Osman, 2014). Such a program is likely to make the detainees more malleable to cooperate with authorities and disengage from using violence.

Labelling and Stigmatisation
Civil society groups in Indonesia have highlighted that labels such as countering violent extremism and deradicalisation are unhelpful and counterproductive (Sumpter, 2017) because they engender a range of consequences for the government, civil society groups and the detainees (during detention and post release). This situation is especially the case if the detainees perceive the program to be politically motivated or if they conclude that the aim is to undermine their religiosity (Sukabdi, 2015;Sumpter, 2017). A label could have positive or negative connotations depending on what action the label is trying to capture, who is doing the labelling, and the location (neighbourhood, city or country). In criminology, labelling theory provides an explanation for how being labelled, for example, a "criminal" or "terrorist" is experienced or lived out by the labelled (Appleby, 2010). In some cases, being labelled negatively can result in being treated by wider society, the media and government institutions in ways that engender stigmatisation, which in turn can foster othering -insider v outsider (Cherney and Murphy, 2017). Experiencing stigmatisation can result in the stigmatised community or individual feeling resentful and unwilling to co-operate with the authorities (Tyler et al., 2010).
The continuing use of labels "terrorist" or "former terrorist" to describe detainees by the state, the media and Indonesian society, even after they have undergone de-radicalisation or disengagement, is likely to lead to stigmatisation and obstacles to reintegrating the detainees. The detainees may view the government with disdain and see it as non -Muslim. Such labels are also likely to alienate the detainees from their own or other communities (even those who are willing to co-operate with the state and civil society groups). Additionally, the labelling is likely to hinder the reintegration process because of how the community sees and relates to the detainees and their families. The impact of labelling does not remain in the prison. The families of the detainees also face stigmatisation from their communities, which could push them to extremism. Stigmatisation from society in general, and specifically from communities that the detainees originate from, is a significant obstacle that can hinder the reintegration of former detainees. This occurs because local media is often informed about the return of the detainee, which can result in the detainees moving around to find a community that will accept them (Anindya, 2019). In some instances, the stigmatisation of former detainees is fuelled by intelligence agencies that give warnings to the neighbours of former detainees about their potential threat (Sumpter, 2017). Former detainees have stated that reintegration and reduced stigmatisation are two essential criteria for what constitutes a successful rehabilitation (Sukabdi, 2015). The broad stigmatisation of these former detainees can severely nullify the social and vocational skills that developed during their detention. Moreover, it is unlikely that the businesses that these former detainees started would be successful if the larger Indonesian society and the local community continue to view them with suspicion. The usefulness of any skill that is de-veloped during their detention is predicated on the larger Indonesian society trusting them post-release. The absence of trust and the existence of broad stigmatisation will inevitably hinder any reintegration effort.
The Role of Humanitarianism One way to overcome the problems associated with labelling and stigmatisation, and to promote trust between the detainees and former detainees, the Indonesian government and Indonesian society in general, is to involve the detainees in humanitarian work.
The literature on radicalisation has shown that one of the pull factors that attracts individuals to extremist groups is their lack of belonging and sense of grievance (Schmid, 2013). The desire to belong to a group has also led to individuals travelling abroad to join extremist groups that are involved in civil wars (Mustapha, 2013). Besides this, another pull factor for individuals joining extremist or terrorist groups is to help their Muslim brethren whom they believe are experiencing violence at the hands of a more powerful other (Schmid, 2013). Such factors engender a feeling of "personal quest" (Kruglanski, 2014), which is connected to and emerges out of the relationship that an individual has with a community experiencing suffering at the hands of the other that he or she can identify with along religious, ethnic or political registers. Under the aforementioned conditions, personal quest becomes indistinguishable from the group quest, especially is it framed around the vernacular of the umma discourse. In the case of Muslims this could be identification with Iraqi Muslims (Sunni or Shia, depending on which interpretation the individual follows) because of the invasion of Iraq by the US and its allies, or the Israeli violence towards the Palestinians. This desire to help fellow Muslims that are suffering is evidenced by foreign fighters who trav-Copyright © 2020, Otoritas : Jurnal Ilmu Pemerintahan, ISSN: 2088-3706 (Print), ISSN: 2502-9320 (Online) elled to war zones in Chechnya, Bosnia, Afghanistan and Syria (Mustapha, 2013;Nilsson, 2016).
It can be argued that the motivation for those individuals who travel to active conflict zones in Chechnya, Bosnia and Afghanistan is humanitarian and altruistic. For example, many Muslims from different states had initially travelled to Bosnia to provide humanitarian aid amidst the attempted genocide and massacre of Bosnian Muslims (Nilsson, 2015). In the wake of experiencing these atrocities first -hand, some of these aid workers eventually joined groups to engage in the civil war (Nilsson, 2015). They saw their involvement in the group as a form of defensive jihad that would help protect their Muslim brethren (Malet, 2015). Consequently, the most effective way to promote de-radicalisation is to develop programs that would address the motivations of the aforementioned type of individuals centred around humanitarianism, rather than those based on securitization, integration initiatives, notions of moderate Islam, sporting activities or other community cohesion initiatives that do not target the motivations, cost a lot and in many cases have low impact.
However, the decision-making calculus behind joining the ranks of extremist and terrorist groups can be considered to be high risk, low impact and low reward. Joining an extremist or terrorist group or participating in an active conflict zone puts an individual's life at significant risk and will likely not yield the impact and reward they desire because there is an increased likelihood of them being arrested or killed before having any impact on the conflict. Herein lies the potential value of incorporating humanitarian work within de-radicalisation and disengagement programs.
Programs based around humanitarian work can be incorporated into existing or new de-radicalisation or disengagement programs. Such work can be cloaked by using the language of Islam and human rights. For example, reinterpreting terms like jihad and using Quranic verses like "whoever saves one -it is as if he had saved mankind entirely" could be used as the basis to develop programs that include humanitarian work. Such programs would be high-impact in terms of the effectiveness and be low risk because they would be legal. High-impact because the motivations of the detainees and former detainees for joining extremist or terrorist groups are being addressed, and they can see how their efforts are changing the lives of Muslims and non-Muslims. Such programs could also be an effective way to persuade detainees and former detainees to renounce extremist ideas because the exposure to such humanitarian work could challenge the group and state understanding of and solutions to conflicts.
Civil society groups in Indonesia, regardless of whether they are involved in de-radicalisation or disengagement or both, can develop programs that incorporate humanitarian work, which would mean developing programs that directly address the humanitarian aspect of the detainee's motivations to join extremist or terrorist groups like ISIS. Such programs could be developed in such a way that the detainees and former detainees would help Indonesians or fellow Muslims in different parts of the world that are experiencing strain. Examples of humanitarian work could include charity work involving disaster relief, conservation (cultural and environmental), development and fundraising for disease research. However, such work must also include extensive risk analysis and detainees and former detainees must undergo regular evaluations to assess their rehabilitation. Additionally, the exposure that humanitarian work would bring would also help dilute the broad stigmatisation that detainees face post-release. The possible dilution of the stigmatisation would help to strengthen their sense of acceptance by the community and belonging in Indonesia.

CONCLUSION
This paper has highlighted some of the problems that have beset the Indonesian government's and civil society groups' attempts to de-radicalise and disengage detainees during their time in detention and post-release.
Although the de-radicalisation and disengagement programs in Indonesia have had some success, they have been beset with problems. These problems can be alleviated by taking the following measures: 1. The Indonesian government sufficiently funding its own programs, and those developed by civil society groups; 2. Indonesian civil society groups tend to rely on foreign donors, which could be counter-productive because some radicalised individuals blame donors for violence against Muslims (western countries and their allies); 3. The Indonesian government sufficiently funding after-care programs; 4. After-care programs being diverse and, as mentioned earlier, also inclusive of humanitarian work; 5. Establishment of a central organisation to coordinate all de-radicalisation and disengagement programs (staffed with government officials and members of civil society groups); 6. Increasing the duration of the de-radicalisation and disengagement programs because renouncing extremist ideas and disengaging from extremist groups can take a long time; 7. Development and implementation tools to monitor the success of programs and develop ways to reduce the stigmatisation experienced by detainees during their detention and post-release. This obstacle can be overcome by educating the security services, the public and the media about the negative impact of leaking information and stigmatisation.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT
I would like to thank my Colleagues at the Department of Sociology, Social Policy and Criminology, School of Law and Social Justice, University of Liverpool di United Kingdom and Singapore for the completion of this article.