KUTA, Indonesia, Oct. 15 -- When a huge car bomb devastated the heart of Bali's entertainment district Saturday night, four of Made Swarna's friends were inside the Sari Club bar, where they worked as waiters. Not one of these Balinese men survived.
His 3-year-old daughter, Cindy, was more fortunate. His wife snatched her from bed just moments before the ceiling of their home, about 150 yards from the blast, came crashing down, he said.
Swarna was at work himself at the time, waiting tables at Mama's German Restaurant down the block from the explosion, which killed at least 181 people. He saw the injured streaming along Kuta's main drag, soaked in blood. And he said he doesn't believe the bloodshed is over yet.
Swarna said he is sure that Muslim militants originally from elsewhere in Indonesia were involved in the attack and he is equally convinced that his fellow Hindus, who make up most of the island's population, will now take revenge on Bali's Muslim minority.
"This will cause religious clashes," said Swarna, 34, holding Cindy in his arms and offering an ominous prediction that has suddenly become common here. "We will sweep them out of Bali and make them go back to their homes so that Bali will be safe."
Bali has been a Hindu enclave surrounded by Muslim islands for 500 years, ever since the collapse of the Hindu Majapahit kingdom that ruled much of what is today Indonesia. In recent years, however, Muslims from other parts of Indonesia have been moving to Bali as laborers, government employees and small traders, attracted by the wealth generated by the island's world-famous tourism.
The attack Saturday night not only killed many native Balinese. It also dealt a staggering blow to the industry on which many people here depend.
"It will have a drastic effect on the number of [tourists] who will want to come to Bali. Of course, we're angry," said Katut Agus, 26, a Balinese Hindu sitting on a shady doorstep along Jalan Legian, Kuta's main street.
Muslims in Bali are starting to feel at risk. "I'm afraid," said Chairil Anwar, 30, a Muslim born in Bali, speaking as he completed his afternoon prayers inside a mosque adjacent to police headquarters in Denpasar, Bali's capital. "I already feel the tension, and we're thinking [the Hindus] may take revenge."
Yayuk Tri, 24, a Muslim, came to Bali from Java, Indonesia's main island, almost two years ago to wait tables. "I'm terrified of [being] labeled as a Muslim if this turns out to be terrorism," she said.
Many shops and cafes along Jalan Legian remained closed today, with metal shutters lowered. The Polo and Atelier Versace stores were boarded up. So was the Made Bar, a restaurant with an Internet cafe. Much of the shattered glass had been swept into large mounds on the sidewalks and street. Dozens of tropical floral wreaths, from local companies and resorts, were mounted on stands as memorials in front of the gutted buildings.
From behind a yellow police tape surrounding the ruins of central Kuta, Agus, a cashier at a local McDonald's restaurant, watched investigators at work in the wreckage. "It's a very dangerous time now," Agus said. "This could create a religious war. It's happened elsewhere in Indonesia and I'm scared it will happen here."
In the past four years, religious conflicts between Muslims and Christians have erupted in several Indonesian areas, in particular the eastern regions of the Moluccas islands and in Poso in central Sulawesi. These battles have left more than 5,000 people dead, according to official estimates. Another 1,200 people, mainly ethnic Chinese, were killed during 1998 rioting in Jakarta, the national capital, shortly before the ouster of President Suharto.
Bali has remained immune to such turmoil. Literally an island of stability in a turbulent region, Bali and its mythic Indian Ocean beaches last year drew nearly 1.5 million foreign tourists, about 40 percent of Indonesia's total, according to the Bali Tourist Authority. That revenue helped make the island among the richest places in the country.
But now tensions are rising. Since the attack, traditional Hindu security guards, clad in sarongs and batik hats, have been making the rounds of Muslim neighborhoods and dormitories, demanding to see identification papers, local residents say. Small Hindu communities have been convening traditional councils in local open-air halls to discuss the bombing and how best to respond.
"We're starting to get suspicious" of the Muslims, said I. Made Satvika, 18, an economics student in a college in Denpasar. "We are very angry because the name of Bali has been ruined."
Investigators have yet to provide evidence that any of Bali's Muslim residents were involved in the attack. And like most of Indonesia's Muslims, those on this island are largely moderate in both their politics and their religious practices.
But religious resentments are not entirely new to Bali. Native Balinese have criticized the influx of Indonesians from outside and complained about the construction of mosques on the island. They had been accustomed to seeing few signs of religion to compete with the countless Hindu temples and carved stone Hindu shrines that dot the roadsides.
Native islanders have also complained that many outsiders have become aggressive merchants and street peddlers, hassling tourists and fostering petty crime. In recent years, native Balinese have sought to clear the streets of these hawkers by destroying dozens of their kiosks, according to local residents.
Since the bombing Saturday, thousands of red-and-white Indonesian flags, displayed at half-staff, have suddenly appeared along Bali's traffic-clogged main roads and narrow back alleys, mounted in front of homes, stores and even meager stalls selling fried rice. This is more than a show of national unity, say the Balinese, who have been strong supporters of the Indonesian state and its current leader, President Megawati Sukarnoputri. They say it is also a show of rage.
Top Indonesian religious leaders, including Muslims, Hindus, Christians and Confucians, met Monday in Jakarta and appealed for calm, urging believers not to blame any specific religion for the terror attack. Several national religious leaders said they were planning to visit Bali this week to demonstrate their concern.
But some Balinese wondered whether everyone would heed their call. "It could be that the Balinese will expel the non-Balinese," said Made Suparta, 41, a native Balinese elementary school teacher wearing a traditional sarong as he waited for a ride outside the modern Duta shopping mall in downtown Denpasar. "It would be extraordinarily violent if that happened."