INDONESIA: Indonesia is stepping into unfamiliar territory as a revised Criminal Code takes effect on Jan 2, closing the chapter on laws that date back to Dutch colonial rule. For the régime, this new law is a mark of legal freedom and cultural significance. For detractors, it is a time that demands attention, care and close public examination.
Approved in 2022 after years of impassioned deliberation, the 345-page code rewrites how lawbreaking is demarcated and penalised in the country. The most talked-about provisions are the new guidelines that forbid sexual activity outside of legal matrimony and expand penalties for committing affront to the state or its leaders. Rights groups and democracy activists worry that the law’s broad wording could make ordinary citizens, journalists, or government critics vulnerable to prosecution.
Even officials backing the reforms admit the risks. Law Minister Supratman Andi Agtas said the government is aware that the new powers could be misused. “We’re not blind,” he said in a phone interview on Tuesday. “Anything that’s new will not be immediately perfect.” For him, the key safeguard lies outside government offices: public oversight.
The changes were approved in the final term of former president Joko “Jokowi” Widodo and quickly drew international attention. At the time, then–U.S. Secretary of State Antony Blinken urged Jokowi to reconsider some provisions, citing concerns over human rights and democratic freedoms.
Supratman, however, argues the overhaul was long overdue. He says the code reflects Indonesia’s own social and cultural values, pointing to features like restorative justice as proof that it is not simply copying foreign systems. “It’s our own legal system,” he said. “Different from other countries.”
One provision drawing widespread attention is the criminalisation of sex outside marriage, punishable by up to a year in prison—but only if a spouse, parent, or child files a complaint. Since adultery was previously the only related offence on the books, this change sparked concern at home and abroad. Still, the complaint-based rule has helped calm fears in the tourism sector. Hariyadi Sukamdani, head of the Indonesian Tourism Industry Association (GIPI), said it reassures businesses worried that foreign visitors could be unintentionally caught up in the law.
Other parts of the code are less reassuring to free-speech advocates. Insulting the president or state institutions can now carry a prison sentence of up to three years, while spreading communism or ideologies deemed contrary to Indonesia’s state philosophy can result in up to four years behind bars. The law also widens the meaning of “attacking honour or dignity,” covering acts such as libel and defamation.
That vagueness is what troubles many legal experts. Asfinawati, a prominent scholar and activist, warned that the law’s breadth leaves too much room for selective enforcement. She described it bluntly as “a new colonial set of laws, made by our own.”
Supratman maintains that safeguards are in place. Law enforcement officers have been briefed on how to apply the new rules, he said, and additional protections are built into a revised criminal procedure code set to take effect soon.
As Indonesians adjust to the new legal landscape, one thing is clear: the impact of the Criminal Code will depend not just on what is written in its pages, but on how carefully it is enforced—and how closely the public keeps watch.
