A controversial revision to Indonesia’s Coal and Mineral Law, tabled as an initiative bill by the House of Representatives, has ignited fierce debate across the archipelago. If passed, the fourth amendment to the Mining Law would grant higher education institutions and religious mass organizations the right to operate mineral and coal mining concessions. Proponents argue this could provide universities with much-needed financial independence, while critics warn of dire environmental, social, and ethical consequences. With over 3,200 registered universities in the country and influential religious groups like Nahdlatul Ulama (NU) and Muhammadiyah already receiving mining permits under former President Joko “Jokowi” Widodo’s administration, the potential scale of this policy shift is staggering.
The proposal comes at a time when Indonesia is grappling with its commitment to net zero emissions and a transition to renewable energy. Critics argue that expanding mining concessions to entities with little to no expertise in the sector contradicts these environmental goals and risks exacerbating the already significant damage caused by the extractive industry. Moreover, the lack of meaningful public consultation and the bill’s exclusion from priority legislation have raised concerns about transparency and democratic process.
A Policy Rooted in Jokowi’s Legacy
The seeds of this policy were sown in the final months of Jokowi’s presidency, when the government awarded mining business permits (IUPs) to NU and Muhammadiyah, the country’s largest Muslim organizations. Energy and Mineral Resources Minister Bahlil Lahadalia confirmed that NU would take over a concession previously held by PT Kaltim Prima Coal, while Muhammadiyah would manage a site once operated by PT Adaro Energy Indonesia. The move was framed as a means to bolster the financial capacity of these organizations, which wield significant social and political influence. 
Now, the proposed amendment seeks to extend similar privileges to universities, positioning mining as an alternative revenue stream for higher education. Supporters of the bill argue that state funding for universities has been insufficient, and mining concessions could provide a sustainable income source to improve facilities, research, and access to education. However, the costs—both literal and figurative—have been largely overlooked in public discourse.
Indonesia’s mining sector has long been criticized for its environmental toll. The industry has contributed to deforestation, water pollution, and habitat destruction, particularly in biodiversity-rich regions like Kalimantan and Sumatra. A tragic reminder of the human cost came with the coal mine explosion in Sawahlunto on 9 December 2022, where rescue teams evacuated dead and injured workers as survivors looked on in horror. Such incidents underscore the risks of poor mining practices, which could worsen if inexperienced entities like universities and religious organizations enter the sector.
Researchers from the National Innovation and Research Agency (BRIN) have highlighted several risks associated with entrusting mining operations to non-specialist entities. First, a lack of technical expertise could lead to unsafe and unsustainable practices, endangering workers and the environment. Second, internal conflicts within these organizations—whether over profit distribution or operational decisions—could disrupt mining activities and weaken governance. Third, inadequate oversight might result in legal violations or unchecked environmental degradation.
Additionally, there are concerns about local economic instability if revenues are mismanaged, as well as the potential for corruption. The allure of lucrative mining permits risks transforming public institutions like universities into corporate entities driven by market interests rather than the public good. As one academic critic noted, “Universities are meant to be bastions of critical thought, not mining magnates.”
Beyond practical concerns, the revision raises profound ethical questions about the role of universities and religious organizations in society. Higher education institutions are traditionally seen as democratic spaces dedicated to knowledge and the common good. Granting them mining concessions could shift their focus toward profit-making, undermining their integrity and independence. Similarly, religious organizations like NU and Muhammadiyah, which have historically served as moral compasses and advocates for justice, may face conflicts of interest if entangled in commercial ventures like mining.
Amid Indonesia’s ongoing challenges with democratic backsliding, critics fear that mining permits could be used as a tool to silence dissent. Universities have long been hotbeds of activism, with students leading resistance against controversial policies such as the Job Creation Law and revisions to the Corruption Eradication Commission Law. By tying campuses to government-issued concessions, the state could exert undue influence over academic freedom, effectively muzzling critical voices. As one student activist in Jakarta remarked, “This isn’t about funding; it’s about control.”
The public has looked to students to spearhead opposition to the Mining Law revision, hoping they will replicate the courage shown in past protests. However, with political elites seemingly prepared to push the bill through via a “tyranny of the majority” in the House, the road to resistance is steep.
A Contradiction in National Policy
The proposed amendment also appears to contradict Indonesia’s environmental commitments on the global stage. The government has repeatedly pledged to phase out fossil fuels, including coal, as part of its transition to renewable energy and achieving net zero emissions. Yet, expanding mining concessions—potentially to thousands of universities and organizations—would likely increase coal production and environmental destruction, undermining these promises.
If the Mining Law must be revised, opponents argue, the focus should be on improving governance and sustainability in the sector rather than distributing as many licenses as possible. Stricter regulations, better enforcement, and a commitment to phasing out coal mining altogether would align more closely with Indonesia’s stated goals. Instead, the current proposal risks entrenching reliance on fossil fuels at a time when the world is moving away from them.
If the revision passes, it may provide short-term financial relief to universities struggling with underfunding. However, these benefits remain speculative and unconfirmed, as there is no evidence that higher education institutions possess the capacity to manage mining operations effectively. The potential for revenue generation must be weighed against the risk of environmental degradation, worker safety issues, and the erosion of academic independence. Without robust oversight mechanisms, there is also a danger that mining permits could be misused for personal gain or political leverage—though no specific allegations of corruption have surfaced at this stage.
Similarly, while proponents suggest that religious organizations could use mining revenues to fund social programs, the lack of expertise in this sector could lead to mismanagement or internal disputes. These possibilities are hypothetical and require further scrutiny, but they highlight the need for caution and comprehensive impact assessments before such a sweeping policy is enacted.
A Call for Public Engagement
As the debate over the Mining Law revision unfolds, the lack of public consultation remains a glaring issue. A policy with such far-reaching implications—for the environment, education, and democratic institutions—demands transparent dialogue and input from all stakeholders, including students, academics, environmentalists, and local communities affected by mining. Without this, the bill risks being perceived as a top-down imposition rather than a solution to systemic challenges.
Indonesia stands at a crossroads. The revision of the Coal and Mineral Law could reshape the nation’s educational, religious, and environmental landscapes, but at what cost? As students and activists prepare to mobilize, and as lawmakers weigh the bill’s merits, the question remains whether the pursuit of financial independence for universities and organizations will come at the expense of the country’s biodiversity, safety standards, and democratic values. For now, the outcome is uncertain, but the stakes could not be higher.
