It was not surprising that the Presbyterian Church of Christ the King in central Jakarta was engulfed by fire within minutes during disturbances in the neighbourhood last Sunday. "Some youths wheeled a motorbike into the church, and set it ablaze, right there among the wooden pews," said the Rev Kumala Setiabrata.
Standing on a carpet of ashes and charcoal with only twisted girders overhead where the roof used to be, the rector gave thanks that no one had been inside the building on Sunday morning when anti-Christian riots engulfed the centre of the Indonesian capital, leaving 15 people dead and 22 churches burned or vandalised.
What worried him now was that the violence was inspired by sinister elements involved in a deadly power-play in post-Suharto Indonesia, and that it could therefore recur at any time.
Political observers in Jakarta agree that pitting Muslims against the tiny Christian minority in a country already on the brink of an abyss after a year of political and social violence was a further destabilising factor that served somebody's purpose, most likely loyalists of former President Suharto who resigned in May.
"The real problem is political," said Mr Kumala, who has a congregation of 500 for several Sunday services, many of them like himself of Chinese origin.
"I have been 25 years here and it is the first time our church has been attacked. We have had good relations with the Muslim neighbours and we gave rice and cooking oil to the poor. Even in the riots in May when Chinese people and property were attacked, we were left alone."
The Church of Christ the King was at the epicentre of the violence, which started after Muslims in a nearby mosque demanded that a Chinese-owned gambling hall close down during overnight prayer services. Seven Christian security guards from Ambon, a Christian island 1,700 miles east of Jakarta, who were guarding the hall, threw stones at the windows of a local Islamic hall.
When they were chased, one climbed through the back of the Presbyterian church but a mob ran in the front porch. "He tried to get away, but they slashed him across the throat and he died," said Mr Kumala.
The army moved in using tear gas and live ammunitions but was unable to prevent the violence spreading. A crowd charged into the Sacred Heart Catholic church where the wedding was taking place of Chandra Gunarto and his bride, Threewaty. "We're still not married but we're safe," she told a reporter after the couple along with the priest and 60 guests retreated to a community centre.
The mob smashed stained glass windows and made a bonfire of pews on to which they threw chalices, vestments and a statue of the Virgin Mary. A Christian from North Sumatra was caught by a group of Muslims and handed over to a local street committee for "religious interrogation" which went on for six hours before a huge crowd.
Despite the frantic pleas of foreign journalists at the scene, soldiers stayed away and his captors eventually told the mob: "Do whatever you want to him." The man was hacked to death and horribly mutilated.
The day-long violence proved to this nervous city of 11 million people that the hardpressed security forces cannot guarantee order, even when mobilised. Many of the attacks were mounted by well-organised members of a group called the Front to Defend Islam, which travelled from church to church in trucks.
They had been prominent in a rag-tag army of vigilantes armed with sharpened bamboo sticks which were sent by hardliners to intimidate protesting students during the special session of parliament two weeks ago to decide new political structures.
The tactic backfired when ordinary citizens and students turned on them but many Indonesians are deeply concerned about the emergence of such religious groups, who prefer interim President B.J. Habibie because he is regarded as "green", i.e. a follower of Islam, rather than his potential rival for the presidency, the head of the armed forces, Gen Wiranto, who is seen as "red and white", a nationalist more loyal to Indonesia's national colours.
Many secular Indonesians fear that hardliners in the military are forging an alliance with these groups, loosely led by Komaruddin Rachmat, an activist based at the city's largest mosque. "We know the Muslims in Indonesia are very relaxed," Mr Komaruddin told Time magazine just before the church burning, "but now is the time for Muslims to advance, in politics and economics too."
Moderate Muslim leaders are just as worried, however, that followers of Islam are being used in a struggle among elements of a fractured power elite intent on discrediting each other. Muslim leader Abdurrahman Wahid, in a joint statement with pro-democracy leader Megawati Soekarnoputri, claimed the violence was not spontaneous.
"There were certain groups of people who purposely led the mobs to destroy churches," they said. "We must be wary of their tricks." President Habibie himself blamed "individuals who do not want political stability in Indonesia."
Some student activists believe the attacks were meant as a retaliation against Catholics because the Catholic University, Atma Jaya, was the centre of the bloody student protests on November 13th. Mr Kumala intends to carry on Sunday services in a community hall but on Wednesday he and 24 other Christian church representatives were told by Deputy Governor Djailani that he could not guarantee security for churchgoers at houses of worship, and advised them to intensify "self-protection".
Some clergymen said they would delay rebuilding while the tension lasted. Mr Kumala intends rebuilding the Church of Christ the King as soon as possible, though he will have to ask his congregation to contribute to the replacement cost which he estimates at 3.65 billion rupiah (£320,000), if one included air conditioning and sound system. "We hope it is the last time this happens," he said. "We hope, we pray, but we are not sure."
