In the middle of the Borneo jungle, Indonesia wants to build a new capital.
Photo: dpa/Mining Advocacy Network (Jatam)
It was the fastest legislative decision that the otherwise politically sluggish Indonesia has ever made: It took only 42 days from the first bill to the final decision until the decision was made in parliament in mid-January. The majority of the party coalition behind President Joko Widodo was sure of the move.
The new capital, named Nusantara, is to be built in the province of Kalimantan, in the border area of the regions of North Penajam Paser and Kutai Kartanegara, just outside the city of Balikpapan with 700,000 inhabitants. 53 percent of the estimated investment costs of up to 46 billion US dollars are to come from the state coffers, the rest from private investors. There has never been a mega-project of this magnitude in the Southeast Asian island state.
The first concrete considerations for this were made public by the head of state in August 2019. The start of the corona pandemic initially shifted political priorities. It took a while before the planning progressed and the formal starting signal, so to speak, was given with the parliamentary resolution. The first construction work could start as early as this year, it is now said. The move will take place gradually from 2024.
One thing is undisputed: the former capital of Jakarta – developed from a fishing village into the city of Batavia during Dutch colonial times – has a number of major problems that cannot be easily solved even with a lot of money and modern technology. Due in part to the excessive use of groundwater, the northern areas of the city are sinking by up to 25 centimeters a year. Although there are similar processes elsewhere in the world – here it is particularly fast. And because sea levels are rising at the same time as climate change progresses, the risk of flooding is increasing rapidly. Even with heavy rainfall, the water can run off more and more poorly.
The congestion is another concern: Hardly any other metropolis in Asia and on a global scale is more plagued by congested streets, where traffic jams are more the rule than the exception, than Jakarta. Even the separate bus lanes introduced years ago or elevated expressways could do little to change the fundamentally critical condition. With 10 to 14 million inhabitants in the inner city area and around 30 million in the metropolitan area, the megacity has long since reached its limits.
A shift in the function of the capital therefore seems reasonable, even if it only promises relaxation in some places in Jakarta. But the decision to create a replacement in sparsely populated Kalimantan (the Indonesian part of the big island of Borneo) is by no means without controversy. At least since the parliamentary decision, critics and skeptics from very different areas have spoken out loudly. After all, it is no longer just an abstract idea, but a concrete project that is to be implemented with great haste.
The move in of the first parts of the political operation and administrative apparatus in the room in about two and a half years (until the end of the process in 2034 with about 25,000 additional officials per year) leaves hardly any time for detailed environmental assessments. Instead, the work should start as soon as possible and thus create facts. Since new buildings are being built in »no man’s land«, there are fewer problems from a practical and technical point of view.
However, critics point to possible long-term consequences. Borneo is considered one of the last natural paradises in Southeast Asia. In the southern part of the island, which belongs to Indonesia, the primeval forest has more and larger gaps than in the Malaysian north, mainly due to the establishment of palm oil plantations. But there are still extensive tropical primary forest areas that are among the most species-rich on the planet, home to orangutans, among other things. The greatest danger is not the deforestation for the area of the new capital, but its prospective growth and the construction of roads in the wider area. The green paradise could soon be irreparably cut through by paved roads.
The Dayak ethnic groups also fear displacement. Many of the region’s indigenous people have no formal title to their land. Pradarm Rumpang, activist of the local anti-mining network, points to another major concern: The already difficult supply of clean fresh water in the region could then worsen. This is foreseeable: if the capital moves, it will bring some of its problems with it.