Is Indonesia’s ‘elastic’ Cyber Law wrecking ordinary lives, destroying small businesses?
- A man spoke out on TikTok about a religious group’s ban on his business – and found himself behind bars
- Rights groups say it’s an example of how Indonesia’s 2008 Cyber Law is ‘elastic’ enough to cover all sorts of petty online disputes
Nugroho had been reported for “hate speech” under Indonesia’s Cyber Law by a powerful religious foundation headquartered in their neighbourhood, the Majlis Ta’lim Zaadul Muslim Albusyro, led by the influential cleric Habib Abu Bakar Assegaf.
Observers say cyber laws across Asia – which governments deem necessary to combat crimes in the digital age – lack robust checks and balances, and may even be used arbitrarily, sometimes wrecking the lives of those who are targeted.
First legislated in 2008 and subsequently updated in 2016 to regulate digital transactions, Indonesia’s Cyber Law has been criticised by civil rights groups for being “elastic” enough to cover all sorts of petty online disputes.
Nugroho, 32, is now in jail while he awaits a further trial at the South Jakarta District Court, with a verdict expected in August.
The turn of events has upended the lives of his wife and children. “The case now consumes so much of my time that I’ve had to send my two children, aged eight and seven, away to live temporarily with my parents,” Sonia said.
Unable to keep her shop open, she now relies on her in-laws to support her family.
In it, he criticised a banner hung by Albusyro in his neighbourhood that said its members were banned from patronising businesses unsanctioned by the religious foundation’s assembly under pain of expulsion.
Albusyro has dozens of affiliated businesses in Bogor, and shops that are not linked to the organisation – which has thousands of followers – are off-limits to members.
“My husband felt this was unjust because many of our customers were Albusyro members. Quite a few cancelled their orders from us after the banner was put up,” Sonia said.
Nugroho took up the issue with the neighbourhood chief, but did not receive a satisfactory response. “It was a serious matter for us because the ban could impact small local businesses like ours. So out of frustration, he posted on TikTok,” Sonia said.
Nugroho’s post went viral on Indonesian social media and generated more than 1,000 comments, most of which were sympathetic towards his plight.
But when Albusyro found out about the video, its members demanded that he remove it from TikTok and apologise.
“My husband promptly took down his post and replaced it with a video in which he apologised. We thought the matter was resolved,” Sonia said.
But Albusyro went ahead and filed a complaint with the police under the “hate speech” clause of Indonesia’s Cyber Law, which penalises the “dissemination of adversarial intent through electronic means against a particular group in society”. A conviction under the same clause carries a maximum prison sentence of four years.
Albusyro claimed Nugroho’s comments on his TikTok video had “provoked animosity” towards the religious assembly.
Between September last year and this February, Nugroho was summoned four times for interrogation by the police in Jakarta before being declared a suspect and subsequently arrested in March.
“Our repeated attempts at mediation and requests for an audience with Habib Assegaf have all been rebuffed,” Sonia said.
Indonesia’s Institute for Criminal Justice Reform recorded 768 legal cases filed across the country between 2016 and 2020 using clauses under the Cyber Law: 37.2 per cent were for defamation, 31.5 per cent for public indecency and 28.2 per cent for hate speech. The conviction rate was 96.85 per cent, with 88 per cent of defendants eventually serving jail time.
Abdul Fickar Hadjar, a lecturer of criminal law at Jakarta’s Trisakti University, has argued for the removal of the defamation and hate-speech clauses from the Cyber Law.
“Those offences are already covered by the Criminal Code and need not be in our Cyber Law, which was originally drafted to protect people conducting business transactions online,” he said.
Ayu Anissa, a free-speech activist with PAKU ITE, a group dedicated to revising Indonesia’s Cyber Law, said Nugroho’s case showed anyone could be “criminalised” using the “elastic clauses” within the law.
“We have seen frequent abuses of these clauses. The list of victims whose lives have been destroyed is long indeed,” she said.
PAKU ITE, which was founded in 2018 under the auspices of the Southeast Asia Freedom of Expression Network, is providing advisory, legal and moral support for both Nugroho and Sonia.
“As a former victim myself, I know first-hand that it’s not only the legal battle that drags you down, it’s also the stigma from other people,” Anissa said.
Since her husband’s arrest, Sonia said she had been ostracised by her neighbours, most of whom are Albusyro congregants.
“Our shop is another casualty. I tried to keep it going, but business took a dive. Last April, on the eve of the Eid, we only booked 1 million rupiah (US$66) in sales. We used to make 8 million rupiah (US$529) in previous years.”
Sonia said she was worried by the psychological impact on her two sons, who were aware that their father was in jail.
“I took them to see [him] at Cipinang Prison because they wanted to see him. The following week, when we went past the prison, my eldest said, ‘This is daddy’s new home. When will he come back to us?’ I almost choked with tears hearing this.”
But Sonia is determined to instil in her sons the notion that their father is no criminal. “I keep telling my boys: never feel ashamed of your father because he has done nothing wrong. He is on trial for defending his own right to free speech.”