Abi S. Nugroho – The government of Pati Regency, in the northeast of Central Java, has always been proud of the slogan Bumi Mina Tani – an identity that appears in government symbols, on monuments, and even in the speeches of officials. 'Mina' refers to fisheries, 'tani' to farming: 'Fishing and Farming Land'. Historically, these two sectors are the lifeblood of local people. Rice fields stretch out, as do rows of fishing boats, and traditional markets are full of produce.
However, in the past few months, that image has been shattered by the voices of citizens who feel squeezed by local government policies, evicted from their land, and abandoned in the midst of a drought that threatens their livelihoods. The wave of protests that has broken out in Pati cannot be seen simply as anger at a single government policy; it is as an eruption of dissatisfaction that has been building for years.
A package of grievances
Initially, the issue that triggered public anger was a 250% increase in the Rural and Urban Land and Building Tax (PBB-P2). This was seen as just too much amid rising rice prices and uncertain harvests. The local government argued that the tax had not been raised in 14 years, and the regional treasury needed revenue for infrastructure. But to the public, that sounded like 'squeezing a dry orange.'
Protests exploded. The Regent responded defiantly, 'Gather 50 thousand people in you like, I am not afraid!' His challenge was seen by the public as an open invitation for a parade of resistance. Donations of logistics flowed in – thousands of boxes of bottled water, food, even trucks full of banana bunches from Gunungsari and other villages. Posts and public kitchens were established. The numbers of participants for the proposed August 13 action had the potential to reach 50 thousand – maybe even 100 thousand.
As the wave of anger grew and became uncontainable, the Regent apologised and revoked the PBB-P2 hike. However, the protests did not stop and a new demand emerged for the Regent to step down. In local politics, this is a sign of total crisis of trust.
But the tax hike was only one grievance. Locals were also angry about the dismissal of 220 contract employees of RAA Soewondo Regional Hospital, without severance pay, tipping them straight into unemployment and poverty. Ironically, not long after the sackings, the hospital opened vacancies for 330 new employees. For the public, this was like kicking people out of the house and then calling in new guests to occupy the same rooms.
It did not stop there, the new five-day school policy also hit many honorary teachers as the consequent restructuring of schools meant they lost teaching hours and salaries available to them when schools were open for 6 days A policy that perhaps was meant for efficiency instead strengthened the impression that the local government took decisions without considering their human impact.
Making matters worse, the Pati branch of mass Islamic organisation Nahdlatul Ulama (PCNU) believed it had been used by the Regent as a rubber stamp. In a declaration issued on August 10, NU demanded that he apologise specifically to PCNU Pati for claiming it had approved the five-day school policy when, in fact, it had not.
Political reverberations
These controversial policies – the PBB increase, the layoffs at the hospital, and the five-day school – were a potent package of reasons for the people of Pati to feel betrayed, and decide to take action.
Interestingly, their resistance was not wild and sporadic, but organised. There were donation coordinators, and initiators and coordinators for the protests. Supplies of money, food and drink to support the protests came from Pati residents and from outside the Regency – and even from Pati families overseas. This solidarity is good reminder of the power of the cultural networks in Javanese society that can unite in gotong royong (mutual cooperation) – including for political purposes.
In response, the government tried to suppress the opposition. The Civil Service Police Unit (Satpol PP) hauled away donation collection points and supplies on the grounds of 'cleaning the location' for the Pati Regency Anniversary parade and Independence Day celebrations. The public read this as an obvious attempt at pressure. Friction grew and the situation only became more tense.
Then the Regent said the massive rally against him was driven by 'political interests' – a typical sort of statement made by leaders during a political crisis. But what transpired in Pati did indeed have major political reverberations, shaking even Jakarta. President Prabowo Subianto, who is also the Chairman of Gerindra, the Regent's party, soon instructed that the PBB increase be cancelled. The political message was clear: do not let Pati explode in August, ahead of the 80th Anniversary of Indonesia's Independence.
In response, protest banners now addressed Prabowo directly, threatening to boycott Gerindra if the Regent did not step down. A local issue was quickly transformed into a national one because it involved cadres of the ruling party
Unhealed wounds
Behind the immediate crisis that sparked the protests, there are old wounds that have never healed.
The agrarian conflict in Pundenrejo, for example, has lasted decades. Land that originally belonged to the ancestors of farmers fell into the hands of the military after 1965, then corporations took over. Now, the land is planted with sugarcane, even though the land use permit was only for buildings. Around 140 farmers have lost their cultivated land, their heritage, their identities and their futures. And there are at least four other active land conflicts unresolved in the Pati area.
A local environmental crisis adds to the burden. A drought affecting the Silugongg River and the Juwana district, said to be the worst in 71 years, has left fishers unemployed for weeks. Daily incomes of Rp50-150 thousand (USD 3.9 to USD 9.7) have disappeared, leaving fishing families unable to buy basic food supplies. Farmers, facing mounting debts for fertilizer and seeds, now face crop failure. People believe the construction of a rubber dam in the area played a role in cutting off water flow. The local government claims the dry season and excessive water pumping are the cause but in the politics of perception, the voices of the people echo louder than technical reports on the desks of bureaucrats.
The perfect storm
Rendeng raiso ndodok, ketigo raiso cewok is a proverb that describes the misery of Javanese society. 'In the rainy season one cannot squat, in the dry season one cannot wash', becomes bitter reality for the people of Pati. In the rainy season, floods inundate. In the dry season, water disappears. This is not just a joke. It is a metaphor of life where the little people are always squeezed, regardless of the season. These words, spoken at coffee stalls, in protest tents and even on the social media, become a collective language to criticise governance that fails to read the reality of the land they stand on.
The slogan Bumi Mina Tani is Pati's pride. Yet in reality farmers lose land, fishermen cannot sail, and prices rise – making the slogan a bitter irony. This is a crisis of meaning, where the regional symbol no longer reflects the reality of its people's lives.
The combination of events has created a perfect storm of resistance in Pati. It will not dissipate with a single policy reversal, because the sources are interconnected in a complex economic-political-cultural network. If Pati wants to escape the vortex, governance must shift from maintaining symbolic slogans to substantial policies, from reactive methods to proactive actions, and from monologues of power to continuous empathetic dialogue with all levels of society.
Pati Regency needs fair fiscal reform. Taxes must be adjusted to people's purchasing power, with transparency in their use. Agrarian conflicts must be firmly resolved by returning land or giving fair compensation. Infrastructure projects must be tested for environmental impact with citizen involvement, not just project consultants. Most importantly, government must open the door to dialogue, not only during crisis, but as part of everyday governance. The people of Pati have already proven their ability to organise themselves. The government should see this not as a threat, but as good faith to create fair participation.
History tells us that the people of Pati were once the backbone of food production and fisheries in Central Java. That potential has not disappeared, but it will be buried if policy favours short-term treasury income over sustainable livelihoods. This wave of protest may recede, as all mass actions eventually reach exhaustion, but the memory of resistance could become a seed for new governance, if leaders are brave enough to learn from experience.
[This is an edited translation of an article originally published by nu.or.id.]
Source: https://indonesiaatmelbourne.unimelb.edu.au/patis-popular-uprising-an-explainer