Jaringan Alumni GEDSI dan Masyarakat Adat: Penjaga Inklusi dan Tanah Air
In the landscape of modern Indonesia, the quest for social justice is increasingly defined by the concept of ‘no one left behind’. Central to this movement is the GEDSI (Gender Equality, Disability and Social Inclusion) Alumni Network, a platform established in late 2024 by Australian alumni in Indonesia.
The network is building social capital for the nation by addressing the root causes of inequality and fostering an environment where every citizen is heard and protected.
In February 2026, the GEDSI monthly meeting focused on the rights of Indonesia’s Indigenous peoples. Despite their vital role in preserving the nation’s ecosystems, cultural heritage and languages, Indigenous communities continue to face deep-seated structural and legal challenges.
By integrating the GEDSI lens into Indigenous rights advocacy, the network seeks to navigate the complexities of legal pluralism and ensure a sustainable future for these communities.
Indigenous Identity and the Legal Gap
At the discussion, ‘Guardians of the Land: Indigenous Rights, Nature and Recognition,’ speakers confronted the persistent issue of who counts as Indigenous under Indonesian law.
Gender Equality, Disability and Social Inclusion Adviser at Australia Awards in Indonesia (AAI), Lia Marpaung, told the online forum that many people conflate ethnicity with indigeneity. ‘Many people apply and say, oh yes, I am Batak, so I am Indigenous, right? That means I should get special priority. There are still so many who think that way.’
The absence of a clear statutory definition created confusion for programs and communities seeking recognition, said Lia.
Professor at the Faculty of Dakwah and Communication at UIN Sunan Kalijaga, Alimatul Qibtiyah, highlighted the legal consequences of that ambiguity. One of the problems was adat (traditional) marriages that were recognised locally but were unregistered in state systems.
Moreover, Proyek Strategis Nasional (national development projects) could destroy ancestral lands and graves, said Alimatul, leaving Indigenous people ‘uprooted from their sources of livelihood and beliefs’.
The result was a legal landscape where customary practice and state law did not align, she said. Customary rights were fragile in the face of policies that prioritised state or corporate control over land.
Land, Violence and the Limits of Participation
Civil society voices at the event described how legal gaps allowed dispossession and conflict to grow. Erasmus Cahyadi of Alliance of Indigenous Peoples of the Archipelago (AMAN) framed the problem bluntly: ‘The problems most often faced by Indigenous peoples are about land and natural resources.’
He traced a shift in the geography and character of conflict. When projects in energy, agriculture and tourism displaced communities, he said, the response increasingly involved law enforcement rather than negotiation.
That dynamic, he said, produced not only dispossession but also criminalisation. Activists and community defenders who resisted could find themselves targeted by revived or long-dormant charges.
Yando Zakaria, an ethnographer from Universitas Gadjah Mada (UGM), supported more nuanced criteria for describing indigeneity. ‘We often think indigenous people are only the Badui or the Rimba. But in fact, the concept is much broader than that,’ said Yando.
His research calls for genuine protections for vulnerable communities while avoiding tokenistic or opportunistic claims.
‘I imagine that the Indigenous Peoples Bill, which is currently being actively campaigned for, is essentially about how to recognise indigenous religions, how to recognise indigenous customs, how to recognise indigenous education, and so much more,’ he said. ‘Let us define which strategic rights should be included.’
Integrating Education and Local Knowledge
Responses from the field emphasised practical, culturally rooted remedies. Butet Manurung, founder of the Sokola Institute, described education as a form of empowerment that must be built from local realities.
‘Education for Indigenous children must be rooted in their own environment and culture. Only then can it strengthen their ability to protect their rights,’ said Butet. ‘Sokola is here to bridge the new developments and changes coming from outside. This isn’t about modernity or tradition, but about survival.’
Sokola’s model shows how literacy, civic knowledge and culturally adapted curricula help communities navigate legal systems and advocate for their territories.
Butet gave an example from her time among the Asmat people in Papua. There, the tradition of pounding sago in the morning was being unfairly blamed for preventing children from attending formal school. In turn, formal education was accused of distancing children from their cultural traditions.
Butet takes issue with the standardisation of education that leads to this dilemma. Every Indigenous community has its own distinct local context. In her view, if the role of school is to provide life skills, then those skills must align with the local wisdom.
‘Much like legal pluralism, educational pluralism in Indonesia has no place within the national education system, which requires all children, without exception, to participate in national education,’ she said.
‘School buildings are all identical in Indonesia when they ought to be diverse. If everything is standardised, ultimately our epistemology becomes the same, and all communities in Indonesia will be homogeneous. So, if we wish to speak of diversity, let alone inclusivity, I apply this to education as well.’
The Interconnection of Nature and Networking
Reverend August Corneles Tamamiwy framed ecological destruction as a moral failure as well as a policy problem. ‘GEDSI belongs to all of us. Let us create a nation without violence, and that includes violence against our earth. It should not just be GEDSI, but GEDSIE. The “E” stands for “Environmental”.’
AAI Enrichment and Linkages Senior Manager, Vina Andriani, underlined a recurring theme of the forum. Both legal reform and community resilience required institutional pressure and sustained, local capacity building.
‘Our strength lies in collaboration. Alumni networks can be powerful vehicles for collective change when we combine professional expertise with grassroots commitment,’ she said.
Moving From Commitment to a Plan for Action
The forum closed with a call to translate the analysis into durable action.
Professor Alimatul recommended three things. First, accelerating the legal recognition of Indigenous peoples’ rights by harmonising statutory law with living customary law, including with administrative procedures, such as marriage registration.
Second, expanding education and public awareness so that indigenous histories and knowledge are taught rather than stigmatised. Third, strengthening multi‑level advocacy that combines local organising, national policy engagement and international accountability mechanisms.
The panel discussion made one thing clear. Inclusion must be intersectional and expansive. It cannot stop at gender or disability alone. It must encompass the social, legal and ecological dimensions of justice. As Lia put it, the network’s work was to ensure that no one was left behind.
The challenge ahead is to translate that commitment into durable laws, respectful education, community-driven documentation and sustained alliances that protect both people and ecosystems.
