Sintang Village Residents Take a Stand: “Our Land Was Here First” in Clash with Forest Task Force

Petrus Sabang Merah advocates for, protects, and stands with local communities in defending their inherited property rights that are under threat of forcible seizure. FB PSM.

SINTANG, INDONESIA —  The call for international oversight is not merely symbolic. Indigenous communities seek protection mechanisms that go beyond national law, including monitoring by UN agencies, support from NGOs, and channels for grievances at regional human rights courts. Such engagement can deter arbitrary expropriation, create accountability for government authorities, and legitimize local claims on a global stage.

In the dense forests and winding rivers of Ketungau Hulu, a quiet corner of West Kalimantan, a storm is brewing. 

On Wednesday, Dec. 17, 2025, approximately 60 villagers, led by local Dayak adat leaders, dismantled a government-installed sign that claimed over 400 hectares of farmland and palm plantations as state land. The sign, erected by the Satuan Tugas Penertiban Kawasan Hutan (Satgas PKH), marked a parcel of land under regulations aimed at preventing illegal forest use and enforcing national forest boundaries.

Rising Tensions in the Heart of Borneo

But for the villagers, many of whom have lived and farmed in the area for generations, the signage represented a direct challenge to their ancestral rights. “This land isn’t stolen goods,” declared Andreas, a coordinator of the protest, addressing the crowd of residents who had gathered to witness the removal. “We were here long before anyone came to draw lines on maps.”

The act of tearing down the government marker was not merely symbolic. It reflected deep-seated frustration with what many locals perceive as a top-down approach that neglects the history, livelihood, and legal claims of indigenous communities. The residents argue that their customary land tenure predates Indonesian independence and that government oversight, while necessary to combat illegal logging, should not come at the expense of centuries-old habitation and subsistence farming.

A Community’s Fight for Recognition

The Ketungau Hulu episode is emblematic of a wider struggle across Borneo, where indigenous communities often find themselves at odds with state forestry initiatives. For many Dayak people, land is not just a source of income—it is central to identity, culture, and community cohesion. Rituals, traditional farming, and local governance are inextricably tied to the land, making disputes over boundaries highly sensitive and personal.

Residents emphasized that they were never consulted prior to the task force placing the controversial signage. In interviews with local media, community leaders described repeated attempts to engage the authorities through formal petitions and meetings, only to encounter bureaucratic delays or outright neglect.

“We respect the law, but the law must also respect us,” said another villager, highlighting the frustration that culminated in the sign’s removal.

Beyond the symbolic reclamation of land, the villagers’ actions sent a clear message to both local and national authorities: recognition of adat (customary) rights cannot be an afterthought. The villagers have indicated that if their claims are not addressed through dialogue and legal mechanisms, they will escalate their efforts, potentially invoking both civil courts and customary institutions.

Balancing Conservation and Community Rights

Indonesia’s forest policies are designed to address deforestation and illegal land conversion, with Satgas PKH acting as the government’s enforcement arm. The task force operates under presidential regulations and is tasked with monitoring forest areas, preventing unauthorized plantations, and ensuring compliance with environmental standards. Across Kalimantan, the PKH has gained notoriety for strict enforcement measures, which sometimes result in friction with local communities.

Experts argue that the conflict in Ketungau Hulu highlights the difficulty of balancing conservation objectives with indigenous rights. While the government seeks to protect natural resources from unsustainable exploitation, enforcement that ignores local land tenure systems risks alienating communities and undermining long-term conservation goals. 

“The key is collaboration, not confrontation,” said scholar a regional anthropologist specializing in Dayak culture. “Communities who have managed the land sustainably for generations can be valuable partners in forest protection—but only if they are recognized as stakeholders, not obstacles.”

Observers also point out that heavy-handed interventions can create broader social tensions. Villages like Dusun Aboi rely heavily on small-scale farming and agroforestry, meaning that displacement or land restrictions can threaten food security and livelihoods. In this context, the removal of the Satgas PKH sign is as much a defense of survival as it is a protest against bureaucratic oversight.

Looking Forward: Dialogue or Dispute?

Despite the dramatic nature of the protest, the event concluded without violence. Officers from the local police precinct and military reserve monitored the scene, ensuring that the crowd dispersed peacefully once their statement was delivered. Nevertheless, the incident has captured national attention, drawing commentary from civil society organizations, environmental watchdogs, and policymakers.

The broader implications extend beyond Sintang. Across Indonesia, disputes over forestland, mining concessions, and palm oil plantations frequently pit state objectives against indigenous claims. 

In many cases, legal ambiguities and lack of formal recognition of adat rights exacerbate tensions. Researchers and activists argue that meaningful solutions require participatory mapping of customary lands, legal recognition of indigenous stewardship, and mechanisms for mediation that prioritize dialogue over coercion.

For the residents of Ketungau Hulu, the message is clear: they will not cede their ancestral lands quietly. 

“We are not against the government,” Petrus Sabang Merah emphasized. “We only want our voices heard, and our rights acknowledged. Our children’s future depends on it.”

As Indonesia continues to navigate the competing demands of economic development, environmental protection, and indigenous rights, the Ketungau Hulu protest serves as a potent reminder that the country’s forests are not empty lands—they are the home and heritage of communities whose stewardship has sustained them for generations. Whether this episode will spark meaningful dialogue or escalate into further confrontations remains to be seen.

Seeking International Justice and Protection

Beyond the local and national sphere, many indigenous rights advocates are increasingly calling on the international community to intervene in cases where governments are accused of seizing ancestral lands arbitrarily. The Ketungau Hulu incident is framed by human rights organizations as a form of structural violence: a state exercising authority over citizens without consent, often prioritizing economic or political interests over the social and cultural rights of local populations.

International instruments such as the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (UNDRIP) assert that indigenous communities have the right to maintain, control, protect, and develop their lands, territories, and resources. Yet in practice, enforcement remains inconsistent, particularly in regions where economic exploitation—such as palm oil, mining, or logging—overlaps with customary territories.

Advocates argue that government actions like those seen in Ketungau Hulu constitute a violation of justice and human rights. By forcibly asserting state control over indigenous lands without consultation or compensation, states not only threaten livelihoods but also undermine centuries-old cultural systems. Legal scholars note that these interventions can be viewed as a modern form of dispossession, one that international courts and organizations are increasingly called upon to scrutinize.

“We are asking for justice,” said a community leader. “Our land has nurtured us for generations. If the state takes it without our consent, it is violence. We call on the world to stand with us and ensure that our rights are recognized and protected.”

The call for international oversight is not merely symbolic. Indigenous communities seek protection mechanisms that go beyond national law, including monitoring by UN agencies, support from NGOs, and channels for grievances at regional human rights courts. Such engagement can deter arbitrary expropriation, create accountability for government authorities, and legitimize local claims on a global stage.

For the Dayak villagers of Ketungau Hulu, international attention represents hope. It signals recognition that their struggle is not isolated but part of a global movement for indigenous rights and environmental justice. By elevating local disputes to international forums, advocates hope to prevent further unilateral land seizures and to affirm that indigenous people’s stewardship is not only legal but morally imperative.

In the intersection of environmental governance, indigenous sovereignty, and international law, Ketungau Hulu has become a case study in what happens when states fail to reconcile their authority with the rights of the people who have lived for centuries in harmony with the land. 

The villagers’ actions remind policymakers that ignoring customary rights is not only unjust—it is unsustainable. (Apen Panlelugen)