Written By: Anthon Jason
The agrarian conflict in Sikka Regency, Flores, involving PT Kristus Raja Maumere (Krisrama)—a corporation owned by the Catholic Diocese of Maumere—has emerged as a pivotal case for analyzing the interplay of religion, power, and land rights in postcolonial Indonesia. This conflict, which has garnered national attention since January 2025, represents a complex intersection of colonial legacies, religious authority, indigenous rights, and economic development. While the Catholic Church has historically positioned itself as an advocate for social justice, its role as a landowner and economic actor in Flores exposes contradictions between spiritual mission and neoliberal praxis.
As highlighted in the discussion hosted by the Coalition for Freedom of Religion/Belief (KBB) Indonesia on March 21, 2025, which was held online and featured three key speakers: Made Supriatma (ISEAS-Yusof Ishak Institute researcher), Tamara Soukotta (Radboud University academic), and Zainal Abidin Bagir (ICRS Director). The discussion raises fundamental questions about the ethical responsibilities of religious institutions in land disputes. The moderator emphasized that this issue “is still ongoing and very dynamic,” noting that it involves “a company owned by a diocese engaging in oppressive practices against indigenous communities”. This article synthesizes perspectives from three experts who participated in the KBB-led discussion, focusing on three dimensions: the historical roots of church-controlled land conflicts, coloniality and structural violence in “development” paradigms, and the weaponization of blasphemy laws against agrarian activists.
Dutch Colonial Foundations and Post-Independence Transitions
Made Supriatma, a researcher at ISEAS-Yusof Ishak Institute, traced the conflict to Dutch colonial land management systems. He explained that his interest in the issue began during research in Eastern Indonesia in 2020, when he discovered “a major conflict in eastern Flores between the church and communities, particularly regarding land ownership”. This conflict, he noted, has “continued for years, perhaps centuries,” with historical roots in “former Dutch plantations that were later transferred or purchased by the Church”.
The researcher revealed a disturbing connection between land disputes and political violence: “When I investigated the origins, I found links to sites of massacres in 1965, in several villages that supported communists. These were actually related to former Dutch plantations that were later transferred or purchased by the Church and then occupied by communities”. This historical context reveals how contemporary land conflicts in Flores are entangled with Indonesia’s broader history of political violence and colonial dispossession.
After Indonesia’s independence, the Catholic Church acquired former Dutch plantations through Hak Guna Usaha (HGU) permits, ostensibly to fund clerical education. However, these acquisitions ignored indigenous ulayat (customary) rights. As Bli Made noted: “The Church purchased these plantations with substantial funds to finance the Diocese and educate priests”. This historical dispossession created generational poverty, forcing many Flores residents to migrate to Malaysia as stateless laborers.
Demographic Pressures and Migration Patterns
The conflict must be understood within the context of severe demographic and geographic pressures in Flores. Bli Made explained: “The pressure between population and land ownership in Flores is immense, which is why many people from Flores migrate, especially to Malaysia. Human trafficking rates are very high”. He further highlighted the plight of stateless Indonesians: “Most shocking is that many Indonesian citizens are not recognized as citizens because they were born outside Indonesia. There are communities of Flores people, quite large in number, in North Kalimantan who are essentially stateless”.
This migration pattern demonstrates the direct consequences of land scarcity and agrarian conflicts in Flores. Bli Made noted that these communities maintain their “Flores culture and Catholic traditions” even in diaspora, creating continuity with their homeland. The situation was further exacerbated when “several years ago, there was a tsunami and an island had to relocate to the mainland, and some of these people are among those living on the HGU land now managed by PT Krisrama”.
Critique of Church’s Approach
The Catholic Church’s transformation into a corporate entity, exemplified by PT Krisrama’s coconut plantation, reveals a paradox: a spiritual institution adopting colonial-capitalist models. Bli Made criticized the theological justification behind naming the corporation “Kristus Raja Maumere” (Christ the King), arguing it commodifies religious symbolism to legitimize land monopolization: “The name itself is cynical because it’s a limited company. For me, they should find another name. Why use ‘Christ the King’?”
Bli Made offered a pointed critique of the Church’s handling of the conflict, particularly its recent actions: “A few days ago, the church asked its congregants to come work in the plantation with hoes. This is outrageous”. He was especially troubled by the use of blasphemy laws: “What’s making me angry is not just that the Catholic Youth Group reported residents—who may legally be illegal, as court decisions also say they’re illegal—for blasphemy. From what perspective are they committing blasphemy?”
Bli Made questioned the Church’s theological consistency: “Why can’t the church be humble? Why can’t it practice low-key theology? In my view, what’s most important is understanding and finding a solution”. He proposed alternative approaches: “Why not resolve this by saying, ‘Okay, you can build houses within a certain distance, but let’s work together. Let’s create cooperation.’ The church could do community development, just like it provides pastoral guidance to its congregants”.
Bli Made suggested practical solutions: “Maybe these people are workers. Maybe we could give them some land to grow vegetables so they can eat, and the church can also take care of them. You guard our coconut plantation, hopefully you can also work in our coffee plantation”. He emphasized that “everything could be good, a win-win solution. Why isn’t this being done? Why must the church be so arrogant, violating even its own teachings? Why must the church prioritize power?”
Church’s Moral Authority and Responsibility
The conflict raises questions about the Church’s moral authority in Flores. Bli Made noted: “I know Flores people are very good Catholics. What priests say, especially what the Bishop says, is something they will follow”. This creates a power dynamic that could be used constructively or destructively. He expressed concern about potential escalation: “What I worry about is that in the field, residents who are considered illegal settlers, land squatters, will face escalation, increasing tensions that could lead to killings, because both sides are heated”. Bli Made urged Church leadership to reconsider its approach: “The Bishop of Maumere must think hard and replace the priests who are directors of the company with better people”.
Eventually, the researcher also suggested engaging civil society: “Why not ask for help from Catholic NGOs, Catholic CSOs, or people in CSOs who are Catholic? There are many Catholics in CSOs. Why not ask for their advice on how to handle this, how to gather these people not as enemies of the church but as assets—well, not assets, because if our foundation is cooperative, humans shouldn’t be viewed as assets but as partners who can progress together”.
Tamara Soukotta: Development Violence, Between State, Church and Indigenous Peoples
Tamara Soukotta, an academic affiliated with Radboud University and Erasmus University Rotterdam, provided a critical analysis of the agrarian conflict in Flores through the lens of coloniality, structural violence, and development paradigms. Her insights offer a nuanced understanding of how historical power structures continue to shape contemporary social, political, and economic relations, particularly in the context of development projects. Tamara’s arguments are rooted in theoretical frameworks that challenge conventional narratives of progress and modernization, revealing the inherent violence embedded within these processes
Theoretical Framework: Modernity/Coloniality/Decoloniality
Tamara, applying a modernity/coloniality/decoloniality framework, deconstructed the conflict as a manifestation of enduring colonial power structures. She framed her presentation as “an invitation to learn together, especially for those who still view this case from a purely legal perspective”. Tamara emphasized that “development violence is still strongly based on paradigms of colonialism and racism”.
She explained the theoretical underpinnings: “Modernity/coloniality/decoloniality analysis emerged from Latin America but similar thinking exists elsewhere under different names. It developed in parallel with liberation theology”. This framework distinguishes between modernity (what appears beneficial) and its hidden underside: “Modernity or Western modernity is something we see as good and visible because it’s made to be visible, but underneath is violence—violence made invisible so that modernity appears good”. Tamara identifies three interconnected mechanisms of coloniality in the Flores conflict:
Epistemic Racism: The systematic dismissal of indigenous land management systems by both the Catholic Church and the Indonesian state. This reflects what she terms “the categorization of colonized peoples as less human,” a logic rooted in Iberian Catholic colonialism that justified the expulsion of Jews and Muslims and later informed racial hierarchies in colonized territories.
Structural Violence: The framing of evictions as “development,” where bulldozers and armed forces destroy homes. Soukotta critiques this as “violence made invisible under the guise of bonum communis (common good).”
Religious Co-optation: The use of theological narratives (e.g., naming corporations Kristus Raja) to legitimize land grabs, which she calls “a replication of colonial-era exploitation.”
Church and State in Development: Perpetuating Colonial Structures
Tamara argued that development paradigms perpetuate colonial power structures: “As a paradigm, development was created during decolonization, when European nations left their colonies. Development continues Quijano’s colonial matrix of power”. This includes: 1. Formation of subjectivity through education and schools. 2. Control over gender and sexuality through schools and religious institutions. 3. Exploitation of land and resources by the state and capitalist economic systems. 4. Authority, especially state authority
At the center of this matrix is knowledge, racism and capital. Tamara states “Racism is an integral part of development, development must be racist because otherwise, there would be no one we feel needs to be developed”. This perspective challenges conventional understandings of development as inherently beneficial.
Tamara emphasized the historical role of both church and state in perpetuating colonial structures: “The Catholic Church of Rome as a political and economic institution existed before the nation-state and was involved in violence that was later followed by colonialism and the nation-state”. She traced the origins of racial hierarchies to religious persecution: “The history of racism or the birth of the concept of race is related to the expulsion of Jews and Muslims from the Iberian Peninsula, where the Catholic Church in Spain was directly involved”. This historical pattern continues in contemporary conflicts: “The Church reproduces state violence, including continuing land grabbing or land violence, opening opportunities for horizontal conflict or, if I want to be clearer, provoking horizontal conflict by mobilizing or attempting to mobilize congregants to control disputed land”.
Indigenous Communities and Territorial Rights
A crucial element in Tamara’s analysis is the recognition that indigenous communities predate both church and state: “Indigenous communities existed long before the birth of the nation-state and the arrival of the Catholic Church, both in Flores and elsewhere worldwide”. She emphasized that “territory is an integral part of indigenous communities, whether occupied or not. Every indigenous community has territory with or without state recognition”.
This raises fundamental questions about recognition: “If indigenous communities existed before the state, do they need state recognition to become indigenous communities with rights to territory?” Tamara connected this to broader issues of agrarian reform, which she views as “a matter of social, political, economic, cultural, and even epistemic justice—who has the right to generate knowledge about whose land this is”.
Tamara’s application of decolonial theory offers a methodological framework for scholars. By analyzing how “coloniality exists everywhere in our daily practices”, scholars can identify and challenge colonial continuities within religious institutions. This approach requires recognizing that “solidarity is born from shared suffering” and centering marginalized voices in academic discourse. Her final call to true solidarity action echoed Pramoedya’s famous phrase: “Fair in thought before action “. Of course, to be able to be fair from the mind has the prerequisite that we have to dismantle the coloniality embedded in our minds. Only then can we build a truly liberatory futures.
Zainal Abidin Bagir: Blasphemy Laws as a Tool of Repression and the Interconnectedness of Human Rights
Zainal Abidin Bagir, Director of the Indonesian Consortium for Religious Studies (ICRS), provides an in-depth analysis of the agrarian conflict in Flores by highlighting two main points. The first argument focused on how blasphemy laws are used as a tool to silence resistance to evictions. The second and equally significant argument centered on the interdependence of religious freedom and socioeconomic justice. Zainal challenged the artificial separation of rights categories, asserting that religious liberty cannot exist in isolation from land rights, cultural identity, and economic equity. His argument dismantled the notion that religious freedom operates independently from material conditions. His perspective links the issue of religious freedom to other human rights, especially land rights, which are at the core of this conflict.
Blasphemy Law as a Tool of Repression
Zainal begins by criticizing the use of blasphemy laws in this conflict. He explained that these laws are often not used to protect religion, but rather as political tools to silence criticism and resistance. In the context of Flores, the blasphemy law was used by certain groups to attack activists fighting for indigenous peoples’ rights to their land. He cited the case of Cece Geliting, a transgender woman who became a symbol of resistance to evictions by PT Krisrama. Cece was reported for blasphemy after posting a satirical cartoon depicting a priest riding an excavator. Zainal states, ” Often with blasphemy issues, religion is not the main issue, but a tool to achieve other goals. In this case, the law was used to restrict freedom of expression and silence criticism of the eviction.”
Zainal emphasized that the use of such laws creates fear among indigenous peoples and activists. He said that these actions not only violate the right to freedom of expression but also undermine the essence of religious freedom itself: “When land rights are violated, religious freedom becomes meaningless. Religious freedom cannot be separated from other basic rights.” In his view, the blasphemy law has become an effective instrument for those in power to maintain the status quo and suppress marginalized groups. This shows how religious issues are often manipulated for certain economic and political interests.
Indivisibility of Human Rights: Land Rights as Prerequisite for Religious Freedom
Zainal’s second argument centered on the interdependence of rights, challenging the artificial separation of religious freedom from socioeconomic justice: “Religious freedom cannot exist in a vacuum. When people lose their land—their source of livelihood and cultural identity—their ability to practice faith freely is inherently compromised.” This perspective reframes religious freedom as a holistic right contingent on three pillars:
Land as Sacred Space: Indigenous rituals, ancestral veneration, and communal worship in Flores are intrinsically tied to specific territories. Dispossession severs spiritual connections to land.
Livelihoods as Prerequisites for Practice: Poverty caused by land loss forces communities to prioritize survival over religious observance.
Cultural Identity as Foundation of Belief: When state or corporate actors erase indigenous cosmologies (tanah sebagai ibu), they simultaneously erase the spiritual frameworks that sustain religious practice.
Zainal presented his critique of the relationship between religion and power in Indonesia. He emphasized that the issue of religious freedom cannot be separated from other issues such as agrarian justice and human rights: “We cannot separate religious freedom from the broader socio-economic context. Land rights are a prerequisite for true religious freedom.” The separation itself is actually a legacy of colonialism. Dutch missionaries packaged spirituality as separate from land, which is how they justified colonization and took our land. Decolonizing religious freedom means rejecting this false divide.
Through his two main arguments, Zainal provides a critical perspective on how the agrarian conflict in Flores reflects the complex power dynamics between religion, the state and indigenous peoples. He asserts that solutions to these conflicts require a holistic approach that integrates principles of social justice with respect for the basic rights of indigenous peoples. Zainal’s statement reminds us that religious freedom cannot stand alone without socio-economic justice. In the context of Flores, the struggle of indigenous peoples to defend their land is an integral part of realizing true religious freedom.
