Indonesia's new Criminal Code, which took effect in 2024, has ignited debate about the country's identity as a pluralistic democracy and moderate Islamic-majority nation, with civil society groups warning that certain provisions threaten personal freedoms and religious diversity.
The comprehensive criminal code overhaul, formally Law No. 1 of 2023, represents the first major revision since the Dutch colonial-era code. While supporters emphasize modernization and cultural appropriateness, critics focus on provisions that could restrict expression, regulate morality, and limit religious freedom.
Particularly controversial are provisions that criminalize extramarital sex, cohabitation outside marriage, and insulting the president or state institutions. While these laws include enforcement limitations—such as requiring family complaints for adultery prosecutions—critics argue they create legal uncertainty and empower authorities to selectively prosecute disfavored individuals or groups.
For Indonesia's tourism industry, concentrated in Bali, the adultery and cohabitation provisions generated significant concern. International visitors accustomed to different social norms could theoretically face prosecution, though the government has emphasized that enforcement would be limited and tourists need not worry.
The reassurances haven't fully calmed concerns. Legal uncertainty itself can deter investment and tourism, even if active enforcement remains rare. Businesses evaluating where to send employees or locate operations factor in both formal laws and enforcement practices.
The criminal code debate touches fundamental questions about Indonesia's national identity. As the world's most populous Muslim-majority country that is also a functioning democracy with substantial religious minorities, Indonesia occupies a unique position globally. How it balances Islamic values, democratic freedoms, and pluralistic accommodation carries regional and international significance.
In Indonesia, as across archipelagic democracies, unity in diversity requires constant negotiation across islands, ethnicities, and beliefs. The national motto, Bhinneka Tunggal Ika (Unity in Diversity), reflects this foundational commitment to pluralism within a unified nation.
Supporters of the new criminal code argue it reflects Indonesian cultural values and moves beyond colonial-era laws that didn't account for local norms. They emphasize that laws against adultery and cohabitation enjoy popular support in a society where marriage is widely considered foundational to social order.
The code's provisions on blasphemy and religious defamation also generate debate. Indonesia's constitution recognizes six official religions (Islam, Protestantism, Catholicism, Hinduism, Buddhism, and Confucianism) and guarantees religious freedom. However, laws against blasphemy and religious defamation can be used to restrict religious expression and prosecute minority sects.
Civil liberties advocates note that blasphemy laws have historically been weaponized against religious minorities, including Ahmadiyah Muslims and indigenous belief communities. The former governor of Jakarta, Basuki Tjahaja Purnama (known as Ahok), was prosecuted for blasphemy in a politically charged case that many observers considered unjust.
The criminal code's impact on press freedom also raises concerns. Provisions criminalizing insults to the president or state institutions could be used to prosecute journalists or activists who criticize government actions. While Indonesia's press remains relatively free by regional standards, legal threats can create self-censorship even without active prosecutions.
Comparing Indonesia to other Muslim-majority democracies provides context. Turkey has struggled to balance secular governance with Islamic identity, with the balance shifting toward religious conservatism under President Erdogan. Malaysia maintains dual legal systems—civil law for most matters and Islamic law for Muslims on certain personal status issues.
Tunisia, which experienced democratic opening during the Arab Spring, has also grappled with the role of Islamic values in legislation. Its experience suggests that debates over religion's role in law are ongoing processes rather than resolved settlements in Muslim-majority democracies.
For Indonesia's religious minorities, the criminal code raises concrete concerns. Christian communities in regions like Papua, North Sulawesi, and East Nusa Tenggara worry that morality provisions reflect majority Islamic values that may not align with their own traditions. Hindu-majority Bali has unique cultural practices that could conflict with nationally imposed moral standards.
Indonesia's decentralized governance structure adds complexity. Regional governments have authority over certain local matters, and some regions have implemented sharia-inspired local regulations (known as perda sharia). The interplay between national criminal law and local regulations can create confusion about which standards apply.
The international business community watches Indonesia's legal evolution carefully. The country's large market and strategic location make it attractive for investment, but governance quality and legal predictability factor into investment decisions. Laws that create uncertainty or restrict personal freedoms can affect competitiveness for talent and capital.
President Prabowo Subianto's administration faces the challenge of managing these tensions. As a former general whose father was an influential Muslim scholar, Prabowo must balance nationalist and Islamic constituencies while maintaining Indonesia's reputation as a moderate, pluralistic democracy.
The criminal code debate also reflects generational and urban-rural divides. Younger, urban Indonesians—particularly those active on social media—tend to support personal freedoms and limited government regulation of private behavior. More conservative communities, particularly in rural areas and outer islands, may support stronger moral regulation.
Civil society organizations have called for amendments to the most controversial provisions, arguing that they threaten Indonesia's democratic character and international reputation. They emphasize that pluralism requires protecting minority rights and personal freedoms, not just following majority preferences.
The government's response will signal whether Indonesia continues its trajectory as a pluralistic Islamic democracy that balances diverse values and protects minorities, or shifts toward greater moral regulation and religious conservatism. For a country whose democratic success has been celebrated as a model for the Muslim world, the stakes extend well beyond domestic policy.
How Indonesia navigates this debate—between cultural values and universal freedoms, between majority preferences and minority protections, between tradition and modernity—will shape not just its own future, but perceptions of whether Islam and democracy can be successfully reconciled in large, diverse societies.
