The Value of Participatory Mapping, the Role of the Adat Community (Masyarakat Adat), and the Future of the Peatlands

Abstract

Indonesian central and local governments have not made serious effort to recognize and protect the rights of the adat community (masyarakat adat; indigenous/traditional community) or adat law community (masytarakat hukum adat; customary law community), despite the Indonesian Constitution of 1945 and many national laws enacted to recognize such rights. In practice, government institutions facilitate conversation of traditional forest lands to other uses, often plantations. Rantau Baru is one adat community where customary territorial management has been eroded by outsider interests, including concession companies, leading to social conflict and environmental damages, including peatland fires. By presenting maps produced from the perspective of the Rantau Baru villagers, this chapter explores the difficulties that adat communities face regarding government mapping policies and suggests the significance of participatory mapping projects to re-establish sustainable adat community management of customary lands.

10.1 Introduction: Politics of Mapping in Indonesia

A map does not simply present an accurate description of geospatial information. The information on the map is selected, arranged, omitted, and categorized by the map maker for a particular purpose. Maps may be created to enable future spatial plans. As the producer’s intention penetrates the map, in this sense, a map becomes the optimal state of geography and space according to the producer’s ideal geographic image. Others may have different optimal images, however, and when these different images compete, it creates friction, disputes, and negotiation (Okamoto et al., Chap. 2). Which image eventually dominates is usually decided by political power. Those with power can plan the use of space, delineate the relevant boundaries, designate the areas, and implement the policies to change the space. Conversely, those with less power are bounded, restricted, and dominated by the image imposed by the powerful.

In Indonesia, the central government’s geographical image is significantly reflected in geospatial planning, the creation of maps, and actual land use. In particular, the Basic Forestry Law of 1967¹ designated most areas of the “Outer Islands” (such as Sumatra and Kalimantan) as state forest zones, and in the 1980s the government created maps accordingly (Okamoto et al., Chap. 2; Peluso 1995). Both the new forestry law and new maps conferred legal power to the central government to actualize its image of the forest zone to benefit its own interests. After the collapse of Suharto’s regime in 1998, some authority over spatial planning was transferred to the provincial and district governments. The designation of the forest zone did not dramatically change, however, and the local governments have since promoted industrial use of the forest zone to develop the economy of their respective regions. This has led to various ongoing environmental problems (Mizuno and Kusumaningtyas 2016).

During the mapping process following from the Forestry Law of 1967, the central and local governments ignored the significance of the forest areas as living space for the people who have lived there for generations and managed the natural resources and environments. People who have used the resources and environment for several generations are known as the adat community (masyarakat adat; indigenous/traditional community) or adat law community (masyarakat hukum adat; customary law community).² Their legal position was first recognized by the Dutch colonial government, and the Indonesian Constitution of 1945 and many national laws recognize and protect the right of the adat community to customary territories. This right has been ignored in numerous places, however. The government and government-sponsored companies have continuously exploited the resources and environments in customary territories. If the government claims the land use of a specific area in the state forest zone, the adat community’s protest against it is rejected and they cannot receive adequate compensation. The government may not intervene even to rectify illegal land grabbing. When companies cause environmental problems, adat communities are unable to affect degrading land use practices and do not receive proper support or compensation, even though their livelihoods are directly affected by the damage (Duncan 2004; Salim 2017). Although the government has primary responsibility for creating maps that delineate customary territories, central and local governments have not complied with this responsibility. Government entities consistently act as if there are no adat communities in the forest zone. Adat communities are therefore in a predicament that is caused by government mapping and spatial planning that is biased in favor of powerful interests (e.g. Duncan 2004; Henley and Davidson 2007; Li 2007).

Participatory mapping, or mapping from the residents’ perspective, is one of a few measures that enables adat communities to challenge the unilateral spatial planning and mapping. Previously, adat communities could not objectively show their historical land use or customary territory because their knowledge and practices were handed down through oral communication and practices. Recent developments in geospatial information technology enable local communities to create graphic visualizations of their traditional land use and territories in the form of modern maps. Alleging a lack of adequate technology and competence, the central government has not recognized local community land use and resource rights claims based on independently created maps (Okamoto et al., Chap. 2). In this context, mapping can be highly effective for and valuable to adat communities, and it can reinforce their land entitlement. Mapping from the local residents’ perspectives can prevent exploitation of the forest areas, promote local care for the forests, and mitigate environmental damage.

This chapter explores the historical and political position of the adat community and the present situation of Rantau Baru village based on maps created in collaboration between the authors and the villagers. First, we explore the background of this mapping project by describing the historical and political position of the adat community at national and local levels. Second, we describe the mapping process and the resulting map, analyzing the gap between the community-produced map and those issued by the government. Third, we visualize current land use in Rantau Baru using the participatory map, exposing recent deforestation and peatland degradation caused by the expansion of oil palm plantations. Finally, we suggest some ways that the adat community could sustainably use land and natural resources.

10.2 Background of the Mapping: Adat Community and Their Customary Land

10.2.1 The Conceptualization of the Adat Community Before the Independence of Indonesia

Adat is translated literally as “custom” or “tradition.” During the Dutch colonial period, customary practices had legal standing in the governance of the Indonesian archipelago. Before the nineteenth century, while the Dutch East India Company applied Dutch civil law to Europeans, Christians, and urban residents living in the archipelago, people in the rural areas were subject to customary rules and jurisprudence. During the first half of the nineteenth century, the Dutch colonial government gradually reinforced the control over the archipelago while adopting this system of “legal pluralism” to govern the colony. For example, an 1824 statute proclaimed that all natives of the Indonesian archipelago, including the urban residents of Java, were subject to the customary justice system (Li 2007, pp. 44–45). In 1848 and 1849, the Dutch legal code was formally implemented, and Europeans living in the archipelago were subject to its code. The Government Regulation for the Netherlands East Indies of 1854 categorized all inhabitants as either “Europeans,” “natives,” or “foreign Orientals” (who were mainly ethnic Chinese) (Fitzpatrick 2007, p. 133). The Dutch law was not applied to the natives, who comprised 95 percent of the total population, as they continued to adhere to the judicial system based on customary courts (adat courts) in heavily Dutch-influenced areas and customary practices in other rural areas (Fasseur 2007, pp. 50–53; Henley and Davidson 2007, p. 19).

In several places, customary governance practices had specific names according to local contexts, such as dresta among the Balinese, aluk among the Toraja of central Sulawesi, and adat among the Minangkabau of western Sumatra. These practices originally included not only legal rules governing human relationships, but also customary rules concerning spiritual relationships with the natural environment (see Osawa, Chap. 6). At the beginning of the twentieth century, Cornelis van Vollenhoven and his colleagues at the Leiden School abstracted, conceptualized, and elaborated on the significance of these customary practices as adat or adat law (hukum adat in Indonesian; adatrecht in Dutch). Although the term adat covers customary practices in terms of law, art, rituals, and ways of life, the term adat law focuses on the juristic aspect of adat. The Leiden scholars saw adat as a total worldview that enabled people to harmoniously govern their community, nature, and spiritual world that was fundamentally different from the European legal system, and they insisted that the communities maintaining the customary practices or the “adat law community” (adatrechtsgemeenschap) should be governed under their own adat law (Burns 1989, p. 8, 56). In particular, the scholars linked adat law with land rights—the “right of allocation” or “right of avail”—to territory, which was translated into the native language of Indonesian archipelago as hak ulayat (Henley and Davidson 2007, p. 20).³ Meanwhile, the colonial government regarded uncultivated rural land as “wilderness” in the Agrarian Decree of 1870 and related regulations, and leased it out to European and Chinese enterprises (Fitzpatrick 2007, p. 133; Henley and Davidson 2007, p. 20; Mizuno and Kusumaningtyas 2016, pp. 41–42). The Leiden scholars claimed that adat communities held the right of allocation over these lands and tried to protect the communities and their land from any destruction caused by competition with capitalist interests (Henley and Davidson 2007, p. 20; Li 2007, p. 49). Although it is debatable whether the Leiden scholars’ attempts were successful, their approach was accepted by the government in that adat laws in each area were not subsumed under the Dutch national law and became the de facto basis for settling local disputes (Henley and Davidson 2007, pp. 19–21; Li 2007, pp. 50–51).

The concept of “adat law community” and respect for adat were passed down through the eras of Japanese occupation and post-independence Indonesia. During the Japanese occupation (1942–1945), the Japanese Propaganda Department (Sendenbu) praised local customs as the embodiment of Asian traditional and ancestral values and unity, which they suggested were the opposite of the European values (Bourchier 2007, p. 116). Supomo, who is known as the “father of Indonesia’s constitution,” and who also studied at Leiden University, viewed adat as the legal and social basis of Indonesia and included the concept of the “adat law community” in the Constitution of 1945 (Henley and Davidson 2007, pp. 20–21, Bourchier 2007, pp. 116–117). Article 18B of the Constitution notes, “The State recognises and respects traditional communities [masyarakat hukum adat] along with their traditional customary rights as long as these remain in existence and are in accordance with the societal development and the principles of the Unitary State of the Republic of Indonesia, and shall be regulated by law.”⁴

10.2.2 The Exploitation of Adat Land and Adat Revivalism

During Sukarno’s regime (1957–1966), the concept of “adat law community” was partly respected but largely ignored during the process of state formation. The Basic Agrarian Law of 1960⁵ is alleged to be based on adat and recognize the customary land right, or hak ulayat, in places where it still exists. However, simultaneously, the law provides that customary rights should be amended when they collide with the national law and proclaims that all land in Indonesia is under the state’s right of control (hak menguasai negara) (Fitzpatrick 2007, p. 137). The right of control allows “the grant of rights to uncultivated and/or non-residential untitled lands without obtaining the consent of the relevant local communities and without triggering the legal obligation to pay ‘adequate’ compensation to holders of expropriated titles” (Fitzpatrick 2007, p. 137). Under the state’s right of control, hak ulayat is typically ignored.

Suharto’s “New Order” regime (1967–1998) was characterized by its highly authoritarian polity and ambition to develop the economy. The government aimed to exploit natural resources in rural areas, especially in forestlands, and implemented policies that constrained the land rights of rural populations. The Basic Forest Law of 1967 designated 143 million hectares, or three-quarters of the nation’s total land area, as a state forest zone (Okamoto et al., Chap. 2). This law recognized the existence of adat law community and a “function” (fungsi) of the forest that was managed by them, i.e. hutan adat (customary forest). However, this hutan adat function was only granted to a few select areas, and was regarded as part of the state forest. In implementing the Consensus-Based Forest Land Use Planning (Tata Guna Hutan Kesepakatan) during the 1980s, the government created a 1:500,000 scale map in which all forest land was categorized as conservation forest (hutan konservasi), protection forest (hutan lindung), production forest (hutan produksi), or convertible production forest (hutan produksi yang dapat dikonversi) (Chakib 2014, p. 13; McCarthy 2006, p. 5; Peluso 1995, p. 389; see also Okamoto et al., Chap. 2).

During these processes, the government bounded the space, categorized the land, and tried to actualize its optimal state of land in the forest area in order to facilitate its exploitation. The Basic Forestry Law designated forests that had been used by local communities as state forest zone, and the residents were alienated from the communal forest that they had inherited from their ancestors (Peluso 1995; Siscawati 2014). For instance, when the government established national parks and nature reserves, local people who had lived in those areas were forced to move out (Duncan 2004, pp. 102–103). Additionally, the government granted permits for land utilization or exploitation of forest areas to timber, pulp, oil palm, and mining companies, allowing them to legally encroach on the customary lands of local residents. Lands at the edges of settlements, including uncultivated fallow swidden fields or forests used by locals for logging, gathering, and hunting were especially vulnerable to expropriation.⁶ Although land concessions provided companies and the government with considerable economic profit, it scarcely contributed to the economy of local communities.⁷ Furthermore, industrial use of the forests often caused environmental problems, and the local communities suffered from the damage. Local protests against land grabbing and lack of compensation were often suppressed with violence and human rights abuses (Duncan 2004, pp. 101–103).

Suharto’s regime collapsed in 1998, and Indonesia entered an era of decentralization and democracy (1998-present). Echoing the rise of the transnational movement of the 1990s to protect the rights of indigenous peoples, the value and validity of adat and the adat community was revaluated. The Archipelagic Alliance of Adat Communities (Aliansi Masyarakat Adat Nusantara, AMAN), an umbrella organization of local non-governmental organizations (NGOs) that aimed to gain recognition and protection of indigenous rights, was established in 1999, and it adopted the term “masyarakat adat” as the translation of the transnational concept of “indigenous peoples” to refer to the adat community. Local authorities, activists, and locals began to defend the rights of adat communities which were suppressed during Suharto’s regime.⁸ Henley and Davidson (2007) refer to this movement as “adat revivalism.”

In the movement to esteem democracy, decentralization, and adat, many laws enacted after 1998 codified the definition of and respect for the adat community. For example, the 2009 law to protect and manage the environment⁹ defines “masyarakat hukum adat,” or the adat law community, in their relationship with a specific local environment for generations and obliges the government to respect and protect their adat in the implementation of environmental policies. The Village Law of 2014,¹⁰ which reinforces the authority of administrative villages, also defines the adat law community as possessing traditional territory and fulfilling one or more of the following four conditions: (1) a shared identity; (2) a customary governance system; (3) a customary property or object; or (4) traditional norms.¹¹

In particular, the Constitutional Court’s decisions in 2011 and 2012 (No. 45/PUU-IX/2011 and No. 35/PUU-X/2012, respectively) on the legality of the state forest according to the Basic Forestry Law of 1967 and its successor, the Forestry Law of 1999,¹² were epochal. Decision No. 45 of the 2011 decision stipulates that state forest can only be legally established following realization of proper procedures regarding designation, boundary delineation, mapping, and determination (penetapan) by the government. In 2009, the Department of Forestry had complied with these procedures in designating only eleven percent of the so-called state forest zone; by 2014, the designated state forest area had rapidly extended to 58 percent out of all forest (Safitri and Nagara 2015, p. 2). Decision No. 35 of 2012 reinforce the legal standing of hutan adat and claims that the hutan adat is no longer subsumed under state forest zone. It provides the head of a district or city (bupati or walikota) the authority to issue a decree (surat keputusan) or a regional regulation to designate an adat area (wilayah adat) within their jurisdiction (Vinolia 2021; Warman 2014). With this decision, the government claim over customary forests as part of the state forest has collapsed. Following Decision No. 35, the Ministry of Home Affairs (Kementrian Dalam Negri, KDN) issued Regulation No. 52 in 2014,¹³ which includes a guideline for recognizing and protecting the rights of the adat law community and provides district/city heads with the authority to issue decrees and/or regulations to designate the existence of the adat community and their wilayah adat within jurisdiction. This guideline notes that district/city heads should identify and determine the adat community by establishing a consultative team to address issues regarding the adat community and their rights.

Despite such laws and decisions, recognition of the land entitlement of the adat community still has a long way to go. While the various laws repeatedly affirmed the existence of the adat community and rights, new laws did not provide concrete policies to support adat communities or amend the existing forest policies. Although a bill that comprehensively ensures the rights of adat communities at the national level has been discussed in the National Parliament since 2013, it has not been passed yet (Arizona and Cahyadi 2013; Nugraha 2019).¹⁴ District and city governments do not always act to designate adat community and wilayah adat even though they have the power to do so. Furthermore, even if the local government recognizes wilayah adat, it is necessary to obtain recognition from the central government agencies if the wilayah adat overlaps with an area that any central ministry has designated as having specific functions. For example, when a customary area overlaps with the state forest zone, it is necessary to obtain a decree from the Ministry of Environment and Forestry (Kementrian Lingkungan Hidup dan Kehutanan, KLHK), after which the area is recognized as hutan adat.¹⁵ These procedures become much more difficult and complex to realize when the customary territory overlaps with other stakeholders’ lands, such as a company’s concession area or other customary territories. The community is required to settle any dispute before applying for recognition. Ultimately, it is very cost- and time-consuming for local communities to actualize wilayah adat and hutan adat.

10.2.3 Recognition of Adat Communities and Lands in Riau

Before the Independence of Indonesia, many communities in Riau managed their customary land and natural resources in and through their traditional institutions and historically accumulated knowledge. Such territories have various names, including kebatinan among the Talang Mamak living along the Indragiri River, batin among the Sakai along the Mandau River (a tributary of the Siak River), luhak in the upstream areas of the Rokan River, kenegrian in Kampar and Kuantan Singingi Districts, and pebatinan in the midstream areas of the Kampar River in Pelalawan District. Most of these customary areas have been categorized as within the state forest zone. During Suharto’s regime, the central government leased these territories out to mining, acacia, and oil palm companies. After 1998, although some communities attempted to re-claim their customary territories and protested against land concessions and related decisions, most situations did not change. Even after the Constitutional Court’s decisions No. 45 of 2011 and No. 35 of 2012 and KDN Regulation No. 52 in 2014, many difficulties remain.

At the provincial level, the Riau government has not actively addressed the rights of customary communities. In Riau, designation of the state forest zone began in 1986 with the Decision of the Minister of Environment and Forestry No. 173 and was completed with the Decision of Minister of Environment and Forestry No. 903 in 2016.¹⁶ During this process, although the government should have fulfilled the procedures required by the Constitutional Court’s decision No. 45 of 2011 (designation, boundary delineation, mapping, and determination), to date, not all procedures have been completed. In this way, the government has implemented forest policies in an ambiguous and seemingly arbitrary manner (see also Okamoto et al., Chap. 2).

Additionally, KDN Regulation No. 52 in 2014 is ignored in Riau. Following the regulation, in 2015, the Riau government enacted Regional Regulation No. 10 of 2015 concerning customary land rights and use, ¹⁷ which was expected to recognize and protect customary land rights. However, this regulation did not restrict new heavy mining operations in customary territories and was regarded as friendly toward the companies and their interests. After representatives of several customary communities in Riau litigated a judicial review of the regulation, it was rejected by the Supreme Court in 2018 (WALHI 2018). In 2018, the Riau government enacted Regional Regulation No. 14 concerning the recognition of the existence of adat law communities in environmental protection and management.¹⁸ This regulation is based on KDN Regulation No. 52 of 2014 and notes that the Riau government has established an advisory committee to address issues related to the adat community. The committee has not yet been established, however. The Riau provincial government has continuously prioritized the utilization or exploitation of province resources in its spatial planning (see Okamoto et al., Chap. 2), and in the process has failed to fully protect the rights of its local communities.

At the district level, some governments in Riau have recognized the rights of customary communities and issued related decrees and regulations. With the support of national NGOs, residents of Kampar District have tried to obtain formal recognition of wilayah adat and hutan adat in their customary territory, or kenegrian, since 2012. They specified areas that have been historically used by the local communities, obtained boundary agreements from various stakeholders, and created documents and maps to demonstrate historical community land use. Due to their long-term efforts, the head of Kampar District eventually issued a decree to recognize their customary territory as wilayah adat in 2019. However, as the area mostly overlapped with the state forest zone, it was necessary to also obtain a decree from KLHK. In 2019, the residents, activists and Kampar government submitted an application to the KHLK requesting that the status of state forest zone in seven places, for a total 10,318 hectares, should be designated as hutan adat. In 2020, the KLHK issued a decree recognizing only two places as hutan adat, a total of only 408 hectares (Vinolia 2021). This is still today the only case of hutan adat in Riau recognized by KLHK. In addition to Kampar District, the Siak government has recognized eight customary villages (desa adat), which gives the adat communities more discretion over village governance, and passed a related regulation in 2015 (Vinolia 2021).

Other districts, such as Pelalawan, have not positively engaged in the recognition and protection of adat community rights or their wilayah adat. Even though the KDN Regulation No. 52 obliges the local government to organize a committee to address issues related to the adat community, this committee has not yet been established in Pelalawan, and no adat community or wilayah adat has been recognized in the district. Neither has the district government made any formal maps to clarify customary lands. The lack of formal maps may result in land and boundary disputes between communities.

10.2.4 Rantau Baru and Its Status as an Adat Community

According to the map issued by KLHK in 2016, a large part of Rantau Baru village overlaps with the state forest zone.¹⁹

Figure 10.1 depicts the customary territory of Rantau Baru and the state forest zone. The area bounded by the orange and black dotted line is the customary territory that Rantau Baru villagers inherited from their ancestors as identified through our participatory mapping, which will be discussed later. The state forest zone with the designated function of “convertible production forest” (hutan produksi yang dapat dikonversi, HPK: drawn in pink) overlaps most of the customary territory. The convertible production forest is designated as state forest. This space is reserved for the development of transmigration, settlements, agriculture, and plantations, although people cannot use it as dwelling space or farmland without first obtaining permission from the KLHK. This convertible production area contains settlements of Rantau Baru villagers, their sialang forests, wasteland burnt by frequent fires, and oil palm plantation owned by the villagers, urban residents, and companies (see Osawa and Binawan, Chap. 3). The customary territory also includes “other use areas” or “non-forest area” (areal pengunaan lain, APL: drawn in white) that can be used for purposes other than forestry and may legally be owned by individuals and companies. Most of the APL areas around Rantau Baru have been designated as the state land, and this APL area has been leased out to oil palm and acacia companies who use it for plantations (Table 10.1).

Fig. 10.1

Rantau Baru and the state forest area

Table 10.1 The area of Rantau Baru in the forest policies (Source: Menteri Lingkungan Hidup dan Kehutanan 2016)

A strict reading of legal regulations regarding convertible production forest indicates that villagers’ use of these lands for traditional livelihood activities can be regarded as a violation of the law. Local customary use is therefore criminalized, as on these lands customary uses must be specifically approved by the central government.²⁰ Even in slightly less strict legal perspective, the government is authorized to use the area for industrial purposes without respect for customary uses or providing adequate compensation to local communities. The land rights of the Rantau Baru villagers are therefore vulnerable even though they have inherited the land from their ancestors and managed the resources and environment according to customary practices.

Rantau Baru is one of the “adat communities” or “adat law communities” that the 1945 Constitution and other national laws recognizes. As described in Chap. 3, they at the position of the indigenous people in the region. The Pelalawan kingdom and Dutch colonial government recognized their territory as wilayat land, which is land managed by hak ulayat. Although historically they may not have used peat hinterland for agriculture (Osawa, Chap. 6), they logged timber and possessed sialang trees in peatland territory. The tributaries of the Kampar River that run freely across the hinterland have been used for transportation and fishing grounds. If we adopt the more recent criteria of “adat law community” in the Village Law of 2014 mentioned above, then the following is true: (1) they have a shared identity as a member of the Rantau Baru community and followers of the Adat Melayu Patalangan; (2) the customary governance system of their adat heads, or ninik mamak, and their assistants is based on their adat; (3) their traditional territory is inherited from their ancestors; and (4) their norms are based on a matrilineal system, through which they have managed riverine resources and protected sialang areas (see Osawa and Binawan, Chap. 3). Nevertheless, they have not been recognized by the government as an adat law community nor are their rights to their customary territory protected by government forest policies, which have sought, first and foremost, to utilize or exploit forest areas to benefit vested interests.

Some scholars point out that the concepts of “adat law community” and “adat community” have been idealized by Leiden scholars and became an ideology in Indonesia (Burns 1989; Bourchier 2007; Henley and Davidson 2007; see also Osawa, Chap. 6). Whatever the origin may be, the protection of the “adat law community” is codified in the 1945 Constitution and many laws of post-independence Indonesia. Nevertheless, the government has not implemented concrete policies to follow these laws. On the contrary, it is the government’s modus operandi to avoid implementing policies to recognize and protect adat law communities.

10.3 Mapping in Rantau Baru

10.3.1 Counter- and Participatory-Mapping

Counter- and participatory-mapping are techniques that enable adat communities to challenge the government’s denial of customary land rights. The maps created counter colonial and postcolonial dispossessions and are intended to integrate multi-sector interests, protect public interests, and promote legal assurance and justice for local communities (Radjawali et al. 2017, pp. 818–819). In Indonesia, counter-mapping was first conducted in 1992 by World Wildlife Fund (WWF) in order to protect the forest environment in Kayan Mentarang, East Kalimantan. Local residents there participated in the mapping process (Dewi 2016, p. 97; Peluso 1995). In 1996, the Indonesian government implemented Regulation No. 69/1996 concerning public participation in spatial planning,²¹ and following this regulation, Indonesian activists established the Network for Participatory Mapping (Jaringan Kerija Pemetaan Partisipasi, JKPP) to promote local residents’ participation in mapping and spatial planning. After establishment of the AMAN, creating counter- and participatory-maps became an important strategy to strengthen adat claims across the archipelago (Dewi 2016, p. 97; Radjawali et al. 2017, pp. 821–823).

There are several criticisms of the strategy to create counter- and participatory-maps. One of the main criticisms is that the mapping leads to “‘freezing’ dynamic social processes which are referred to as ‘customary law’” (Peluso 1995, p. 400). The maps depict an area’s boundaries, territories and resources in a way that rejects the ambiguity, flexibility and dynamism that are essential to customary land management. Indeed, Rosita Dewi (2016) point out that creating participatory maps brought negative impacts to adat communities in Merauke District, Papua, where the rigid boundaries on the maps caused fragmentation and conflict among adat communities, and the identification of land users resulted in accelerating land sales to outsiders. Second, criticism is related to the politics of mapping. Mapping is embedded in spatial planning procedures and in claiming the legal validity of land occupation in Indonesia, and the central government does not incorporate the maps created by local residents into the spatial planning (Okamoto et al., Chap. 2). The counter- and participatory-mapping is therefore seen as an inefficient method to change the government policies. A third criticism is related to the power generated through mapping. The mapping process may not involve all people in a community, and the resulting map may reflect the interest of some people over others (Fox et al. 2008), possibly alienating local minorities such as woman and the poor (Radjawali et al. 2017, p. 820).

Attending to the significance of these criticisms or limitations of counter and participatory mapping, we believe that the negative impacts of our participatory mapping project in Rantau Baru is not so grave. As for the first criticism, the customary territory of Rantau Baru was historically recognized by the Pelalawan kingdom (Osawa and Binawan, Chap. 3). The rough location of the boundaries has been shared not only with Ranatu Baru villagers but also the members of the neighboring villages, and the ambiguity, flexibility and dynamism of land use have already been limited in this area. As for the government recognition of participatory maps, although the central government has not recognized the maps created by local residents, the maps can be judicially admitted as evidence and administratively adopted as spatial planning materials at local government levels (Radjawali et al. 2017, pp. 828–829). Finally, as for the power generated through mapping process, while creating a map to show land use in the village (see Fig. 10.4), we avoided identifying individual land holdings because this may cause unintended negative consequences in the community (cf. Okamoto et al., Chap. 2). Instead, we focused on identifying companies that legally or illegally used the land in Rantau Baru traditional territory.

We suppose three concrete usages of the resulting maps. First, the maps can be used as tools to help the community negotiate with the government, companies, and other villages during land disputes. During the previous three decades, Rantau Baru customary territory has been legally and illegally encroached upon by oil palm companies and neighboring villages, which remains a threat in the future. The maps will contribute to defense of customary territory in informal negotiations or in court proceedings. Second, in Pelalawan, the district government has not designated wilayah adat and adat communities. The maps can be an agent to drive the local government to implement related policies and can act as a reference material to designate the wilayah adat and adat community in the future. Finally, visualizing the reality of land use enables Rantau Baru villagers to gain new perspective on the detailed situation of the territory, through which it may also be possible to improve understanding of other related issues, such as peatland degradation and ways of raising local standards of living (cf. Chakib 2014, pp. 48–49). The maps and mapping process could positively affect the way residents use their lands and improve future decision making regarding the protection and sustainable use of the natural surroundings.

In any case, the mapping process is the first step to change the difficult position of the adat community. The maps created should not be regarded as ultimate solutions to their struggle, but as tools to propel their struggle against inequality and injustice in land rights (Dewi 2016, p. 102; Radjawali et al. 2017, p. 820). It is noteworthy here that the positive effects of mapping will be realized in continuous negotiation and collaboration among various stakeholders such as Rantau Baru villagers, local government, companies, neighboring villagers, and activists/scholars like us (see Conclusion of this and Conclusion chapter of this book).

10.3.2 Participatory Mapping and Customary Territory

To create the map of Rantau Baru, we adopted a participatory mapping method in which residents play an important role in the mapping process. This process abstracts their perspective on space, and the resulting map reflects their worldview or concept of cultural space (Pramono 2014). While various kinds of maps can be produced depending on a main concern, we focused on traditional territory and land use. These themes were chosen by the villagers who participated in the mapping, who comprised the incumbents of the matrilineal adat institutions (for example the ninik mamak and anak jantan/ betina, see Osawa and Binawan, Chap. 3), officials of the administrative village office, and ordinary villagers. They recognized that their customary territory has been eroded by oil palm companies, as well as land disputes with a neighboring village, and rapid changes in the local environment. They pointed out the need to visualize these issues and create the maps. The first map (Fig. 10.2) can be used as a reference to negotiate the village boundaries with neighboring villages, companies, and the government, and to apply for wilayah adat and hutan adat in the future. The second map (Fig. 10.3) can be used to understand the present land use and environment in their territory. We created the maps between November 2020 and January 2021.

Fig. 10.2

Customary Territory of Rantau Baru

Fig. 10.3

Gap between the customary territory and the administrative village in Rantau Baru

Usually, people do not recognize the geospatial information of their living space and boundaries in the form of modern maps. Rantau Baru villagers are no different. They perceived space and boundaries in relation to natural and artificial landmarks, such as rivers, trees, roads, and buildings. It was necessary to place this information into a modern base map. We used the map of Rupa Bumi Indonesia (1:50,000 scale), which is a formal map issued by the Indonesian Geospatial Information Agency (Badan Informasi Geospsial, BIG), as the base map. This choice follows a Indonesian Geospatial Information Agency guideline for drawing maps of wilayah adat.²²

First, we visited the main landmarks in the village territory with the villagers and checked the names of the points using a global positioning system (GPS) device. Then, we inputted the points into a base map after a discussion with the villagers. If necessary, we returned to the points to confirm their positions. After repeating these procedures, we drew the boundaries of the customary territory on the working map and identified the land use in the space. During this process, it was important to refer to high-resolution satellite imagery (Citra Satellite SPOT 7, 2017) as a supporting tool for the working map. The imagery includes information about natural and manmade landmarks such as rivers, canals, roads, vegetation, and buildings. At the beginning, the informants struggled to align their understanding of the space with the imagery. However, they learned how to indicate the correct points on the images.

In creating the map of their customary territory, the identification of landmarks depended on the memories of elder and adat leader in the village. Originally, the boundaries of pebatinan were recorded and remembered in the form of folk song (tombo) in each pebatinan. Although folk song is changeable and the number of singers has decreased, the boundaries of pebatinan are clearly remembered by the elders and leaders. There is a general consensus about these customary boundaries between Rantau Baru villagers and those in neighboring villages because the adat leaders of pebatinan have traditionally been in communication with each other, and have negotiated territorial access. Nevertheless, some boundaries are ambiguous, which can cause conflicts with neighboring villages, as mentioned later.

In Rantau Baru, like other regions in Riau, the boundaries of customary areas are formed by lines that connect one point to another point. The “points” are named based on natural objects in the area, which typically include hills, rivers (particularly river mouths), and vegetation. For example, on the northern bank of the Kampar, the traditional area of Rantau Baru borders that of Pebatinan Kerinci (see Fig. 10.2).²³ The boundary begins with the mouth of the Pebadaran River (a) (Muara Pebadaran), then travels upstream to Pematang Sigontung (b), which is at the top of a hill. Then, Rantau Baru traditional area borders that of Pebatinan Sekijang, and the boundary turns toward Jabon (c), where there is a stand of jabon, or burflower trees (Neolamarckia cadamba). The boundary then passes Bagan Tinggi (d), which is a fishing ground in the Bokol Bokol River, and reaches Keduduk Angkak (e), a large thicket of the evergreen shrub Melastoma candidum. Keduduk Angkak is the boundary point with the customary area of Kepenghuluan Langgam.²⁴ Individual sialang trees are also important landmarks and boundary points. Sialang Seribu Sarak (f) marks the spot where a large sialang tree once grew. Although it has since died, the villagers remembered this point clearly.

During the mapping process, we could not identify all the landmarks at the correct points. This is because some vegetation and natural landmarks were lost due to expansion of oil palm plantations in the last twenty years. For example, there was formerly a patch of thatch screwpine (pandanus odorifer) at Talang Aur Berduri (g), but it has been completely replaced by oil palms. The Kampar tributaries of Sungai Putat (h) and Sungai Silabu (i) have been lost because canals were constructed across the tributaries, and the oil palm companies prohibit entry to the area. In these situations, we identified points depending on the memory of villagers and examination of high-resolution satellite imagery.

Figure 10.2 depicts the customary territory of Rantau Baru and was created using the participatory mapping method. The geographical landscape of Rantau Baru is between 101° 45′31.385 East Longitude–101° 51′23.276 East Longitude and 0° 14′13.748 North Latitude–0° 22′26.386 North Latitude. The topography is lowland with an altitude of 12 meters above sea level. The area of the customary territory is 8450 hectares and is crossed by the Kampar River, which occupies 458 hectares in the territory. The customary territory of Rantau Baru borders those of Kepenghuluan Langgam, Pebatinan Sekijang, Pebatinan Terusan, and Pebatinan Penarikan.

10.3.3 Ill-Defined Boundaries and Land Categories

In Riau, there is usually a significant gap between the boundaries of customary territories and an administrative village. This gap is caused by the different mapping processes. As mentioned above, although a customary territory can be identified through a detailed social investigation in a community, such procedures are not included in the mapping process of an administrative region. Administrative boundaries are delineated based on data from the district government and fixed by a decree and regulation stipulated by the district head under the control of the KDN. These boundaries would have been drawn based on a rough location survey and questionable assumptions.

For example, in Rantau Baru, a clear gap appears when we overlay the customary territory (wilayah adat) and administrative village boundaries on the Rupa Bumi Indonesia map created by the BIG. In Fig. 10.3, the area with a meshed pattern indicates the customary territory, and areas within the black and yellow dotted lines are administrative village boundaries. As seen in the map, the customary territory of Rantau Baru extends significantly south of its administrative boundaries and overlaps with areas within the administrative boundaries of Langgam, Kuala Terusan, Padang Luas, Penarikan and Pangkalan Kerinci Barat.

At present, the central government is promoting the creation of more detailed maps in accordance with the One Map Policy (Okamoto, Chap. 2; Dheny, Chap. 12). The KDN regulation No. 45 of 2016 regarding the determination of administrative village boundaries indicates that the boundaries should be drawn on the base map to a scale of 1:10,000. However, this map is not yet available. Even if it is completed, the boundaries of customary territories based on local agreements would not be reflected on the map, because BIG’s mapping procedure does not involve social surveys that elucidate the boundaries of the customary territories. The lack of clear boundaries and adequate area designation on the base maps has resulted in land grabbing in the region.

10.3.4 Land Disputes Caused by Inaccurate and Unintegrated Maps

Lack of clear boundaries has caused land conflicts between Rantau Baru and a neighboring village. In approximately 2010, the village office of Pangkalan Kerinci Barat issued land and compensation letters (SKTs and SKGRs, respectively)²⁵ and sold approximately 200 hectares of land at the northern edge of Rantau Baru’s customary territory to an oil palm company, Guna Dodos (see Fig. 10.4 and Table 10.2). This area includes both the forest and non-forest zones (see Figs. 10.1 and 10.4). In the state forest zone, it is prohibited to establish oil palm plantations. In the non-forest zone, in order to establish an oil palm plantation it is necessary to obtain a cultivation permit (Hak Guna Usaha, HGU) issued by the National Land Agency (Badan Pertanahan Nasional, BPN). Although Guna Dodos did not obtain the permit, it succeeded in establishing and running the oil palm plantation (see Sani 2015). Although the Rantau Baru villagers raised concerns about the ambiguous boundaries at the offices of Pangkalan Kerinci Barat and Guna Dodos, the company continues to operate.

Fig. 10.4

Land users in Rantau Baru

Table 10.2 Land area according to land user

Lack of adequate land titles has also accelerated land grabbing. In 2010, Kelompok Tani Bakti Bersama, a company based in Pangkalan Kerinci, began clearing approximately 200 hectares of land at the center of the Rantau Baru customary territory (see Fig. 10.4 and Table 10.2). This angered Rantau Baru villagers, and they accused Bakti Bersama of land grabbing. Although the sub-district office tried to mediate the conflict, it could not be resolved. A hearing was held at the Pelalawan District Assembly, after which the assembly dispatched a special team to the location (Fitri 2019; Terkini 2019). The team was also unable to resolve the dispute, because neither the KLHK nor the Pelalawan district government had granted land rights to the Bakti Bersama or Rantau Baru villagers. The legal affairs bureau of KLHK in Riau stated that the disputed land was categorized as a convertible production forest within the state forest zone—an area in which people cannot claim land rights. Additionally, the district government did not recognize the villagers’ land rights because in 2005, the district head decided that the area around the disputed land was a “residential relocation area”²⁶ from which residents should be removed, because the area often suffered from seasonal floods (see also Osawa and Binawan, Chap. 3). Based on these designations, the government did not intervene in the land conflict, and the land remains as oil palm plantation under the control of Bakti Bersama, though with no established legal basis.

Lack of clear boundaries and adequate land designation may also lead to creation of new boundaries for specific political ends. This occurred in Riau in 2011 when the local communities of Padang Island within the Meranti Islands District protested a permit to establish an Industrial Plantation Forest (Hutan Tanaman Industri, HTI) granted to the acacia company Riau Andalan Pulp and Paper (RAPP). During the process of the negotiations between the villagers of Lukun Village and the Ministry of Forestry, ministry officials provided a map in which Lukun was divided into two administrative villages, Lukun and Tanjung Bunga. Nobody in the region knew that the administrative village Tanjung Bunga existed, however. The Ministry of Forestry invented a fictitious village, reduced the village area of Lukun, and tried to use the area subtracted from it for an acacia plantation (Salim 2017). This case shows that the government can unilaterally produce village maps according to their interests.

Since the Basic Forestry Law of 1967 government designation of forest production zones has typically ignored the territory of the adat communities traditionally inhabiting these zones. As the designation prioritizes the economic interests of the central and local governments, governments have not clearly established adat community boundaries and territory on official maps. This has allowed them to avoid conflicts challenging government interests and left open the possibility of manipulating boundaries and territories according to situational needs and interests. This inconsistent and situational approach has undermined the legitimacy of governance of rural forest areas in Indonesia. The lack of clear boundaries and territories has allowed outsiders to usurp customary adat community lands. Counter-mapping using a participatory method can expose the results of the government’s situational and inconsistent management and the lawless situation in rural areas. Moreover, mapping can be seen as an attempt to reconstruct the customary territories, demonstrate the legitimacy of land use by the adat community, and recover inclusive land governance in rural areas.

10.4 Land Use and Environmental Management

10.4.1 Mapping Land Use in Rantau Baru

As shown in Fig. 10.1, part of Rantau Baru’s customary territory is categorized as “other use” area, and oil palm and acacia companies have obtained permission to use some of these areas. Because other parts of the territory are categorized as convertible production forest, territorial land use rights have been the object of deal-making and possession through SKTs and SKGRs (see Osawa and Binawan, Chap. 3).

Figure 10.4 depicts the various land users in Rantau Baru. The orange-colored area is managed by Rantau Baru individuals. Although some hold SKTs, others have used the land customarily without official title. This orange area includes villager homesteads, rubber and oil palm gardens, broad swathes of uncultivated swampy grassland, and small forests. The purple area is the sialang area (kepung sialang) and the Kampar River managed by three matrilineal groups (see Osawa and Binawan, Chap. 3). While not colored on the map, the narrow area (0.3 hectares; see Table 10.2) along the boundaries of the territory is regarded as land of the administrative village. Other areas are controlled by village outsiders. The yellow area is land used by individuals from outside the village who bought it by obtaining SKTs and SKGRs from the village office or villagers (Osawa and Binawan, Chap. 3). This area includes grasslands and oil palm gardens. The remaining areas are used by oil palm and acacia companies. The areas in navy at the center of the territory and deep green at the north edge are used by Bakti Bersama and Guna Dodos, respectively. The brown area along the south edge of the territory is used by RAPP for acacia plantations.

Based on Fig. 10.4, Table 10.2 calculates the area managed by each kind of actor. Villagers manage 41 percent (or 3369.6 ha) of the total land area of Rantau Baru (8126.9 ha), while 55 percent (4757.3 ha) of village land is controlled by outsiders. Until approximately 1990, almost all the customary territory was under village management and control. However, since 1990, oil palm and acacia companies have encroached on the territory, which has resulted in deforestation of the customary territory.

10.4.2 Deforestation and Peatland Problems

The expansion of oil palm and acacia plantations in and around the customary territory began in the 1990s. At the end of the 1980s, the industrial road was constructed, and the area became the target of oil palm plantation extensions. In 1992, the Minister of Forestry issued a decree that changed the function of the convertible production forest (an area of 7087 ha) to an “other use” area for Pusaka Megah Bumi Nusantara, an oil palm company of the Asian Agri Group (Eyes on the Forest 2015a).²⁷ This company operates a 316 ha oil palm plantation at the northwestern edge of the customary territory (see Fig. 10.3 and Table 10.2). In 1995, the Minister of Forestry issued a decree to change 1296 ha of the forest zone to other use areas for Langgam Inti Hibrindo, an oil palm company of the Provident Agro Group (Eyes on the Forest 2015b). This company obtained a HGU in 1999 from BPN (No. 110/HGU/BPN/99). Their oil palm plantation occupies the southeastern area of the customary territory. These concessions were completed without any negotiations with the Rantau Baru community, and the villagers did not receive any compensation for the land. These companies deforested the areas and constructed numerous canals to drain peatland (see Figs. 10.2, 10.3, and 10.4). Several researchers have demonstrated that the construction of canals and water blockages in peatlands influences the surface water and groundwater levels and can cause peatland fires (Jaenicke et al. 2011; Susilo et al. 2013). In Rantau Baru, the customary territory has suffered from frequent forest and peatland fires since the latter half of the 1990s. The burnt space became swampy grassland/bush. Since the 2000s, part of the opened land has been sold to urban residents and companies and used as oil palm plantations. Additionally, some Rantau Baru villagers planted oil palm seedlings in these areas. However, oil palm cultivation in peatland in this region is difficult, as the land often suffers from peatland fires and seasonal floods (Osawa and Binawan, Chap. 3).

Forested area in the customary territory declined dramatically between 1990 and 2000. Table 10.3 depicts the land surface types in Rantau Baru’s customary territory (which indicate land use). The Department of Forestry (and KLHK in 2019) release the data of the land surface types after analyzing satellite images. We superimposed the map of the customary territory on the KLHK maps and calculated the areas according to each use.

Table 10.3 Land surface types in the customary territory (1990–2019) (Kementerian Lingkungan Hidup dan Kehutanan 2019)

Although Rantau Baru had 6217 ha of forests in 1990, this had been reduced to less than 400 hectares by 2019. Conversely, the plantation area has dramatically increased from zero ha in 1990, to more than 3400 ha in 2019. It is noteworthy that the 1742 ha of swampy grassland/bush in 1990 had expanded to 4367 ha by 2000. This is related to forest fires, which repeatedly occurred during the 1990s; the swampy forest was burnt, converting it into swampy grassland/bush. Part of this area was in turn converted to plantations in 2019.

Before the 1990s, Rantau Baru was covered by thick forests, and fires were rare. Rantau Baru villagers protected their sialang areas and did not over-exploit the natural resources. However, after the construction of the RAPP road, the expansion of oil palm plantations, and repeated peatland and forest fires, forested areas have dramatically decreased. The fires create a haze that harms villagers’ health. The production of honey in the sialang area is also decreasing due to the deforestation and haze. These environmental problems have been caused by government and company exploitations of peat swamp forests, which are made possible by the inconsistent and situational mapping of customary territories.

10.5 Conclusion: Suggestions for a New Governance System

When Riau suffered from large peat forest fires in 2015, I, Akhwan Binawan, co-author of the present paper, was in Pekanbaru and could not imagine how wide the peatland fires had spread. I remember how hard it was to breathe for almost 2 months as the air was polluted by haze. Visibility was very low, and my vision could only penetrate the smog for 50 meters. However, the situation in Rantau Baru was worse. According to the villagers, visibility was less than 20 meters. Almost all the villagers developed bronchitis. While the sialang areas did not suffer from the fires, the haze would have impacted the bees in the sialang trees. At night, villagers could see the light of the fires in the hinterlands, and the fires may have come within several dozens of meters of the settlement. In Rantau Baru, the fires were closer to the settlement area than in Pekanbaru. Eyes on the Forest (2015a, b, c), a NGO network, conducted field investigations just after the fires and confirmed the burned peatlands in several oil palm and acacia plantations around Rantau Baru, including Langgam Inti Hibrindo, and Pusaka Megah Bumi Nusantara.

The damage to the Rantau Baru adat community can be measured not only by the encroachment on their customary territory, but also by the fires and haze that occur close to their settlement. Although they lost their customary territory and their living environment is getting worse, the villagers have not received compensation equivalent to their losses. It is necessary to reinforce their land titles and make it possible for them to once again manage the land and resources. When the concession permissions of the companies have expired, the land should be returned to management by the Rantau Baru adat community.

One way to use the returned land is to manage and control the land based on traditional knowledge or local wisdom. As Osawa (in Chap. 6) points out, local traditional wisdom has been idealized and might be unable to resolve all environment problems. However, before the 1990s, Rantau Baru villagers protected and managed sialang forests and the peat environment without significant problems. If land rights are established, villagers can invest money and labor into the land from a long-term perspective, grow the sialang trees, and regenerate the forests. Support from the government, companies, and NGOs such as Hakiki which supports maintenance and expansion of honey collection and horticulture in Rantau Baru, would be essential in this project.

It would be impossible for the villagers to manage the vast returned area as sialang forest. Furthermore, as mentioned in Chap. 3, some villagers have sold land use rights to outsiders in order to improve their short-term livelihood prospects. It is essential to generate the villagers’ livelihoods and raise their living standards so that they can reconsider this short-term perspective. In the meantime, however, some part of adat lands may be leased out to companies or urban residents to operate oil palm or acacia plantations. The main focus for now should be to create a governance system in which the villagers themselves can choose the land use, and the village office or villagers can receive rent or share the profit from plantations or any other use. By establishing such a system, we can expect that the villagers would not sell land rights to outsiders so easily and would be interesting to positively engage in the environmental management of the customary area.

Such suggestions require creation of integrated and detailed maps with accurate and useful land designations. Although participatory map-making takes time, it should be completed in order to improve governance of rural lands, natural resources, and environment in Indonesia. We hope that the participatory maps created in Rantau Baru will contribute not only to protecting land rights, but also to creating an integrated and detailed map that recognizes the customary territory of the Rantau Baru community in the future.