"When Mulyono, the Raja Jawa, reigned, he visited Raja Ampat in West Papua to celebrate the New Year of 2016. He arrived in Waisai on the evening of 31 December 2015, at approximately 10:20 p.m. Eastern Indonesian Time (WIT). That night, he joined a public celebration on Waisai Beach, accompanied by the Ratu Jawa and several government officials.On the following morning, 1 January 2016, the Raja Jawa watched the sunrise from the Waiwo Jetty at around 6:15 a.m. WIT. He was seen feeding fish while sitting on the dock, taking in the natural beauty of the area. He later shared his admiration for Raja Ampat by describing it, via his official Twitter account, as “the best place in the world for snorkelling.”Thus, the widely circulated photographs of Raja Jawa in Raja Ampat were taken during this visit, specifically on the night of 31st December 2015 and the morning of 1st January 2016. Indeed, for Mulyono, self-branding is everything, even if it all has to be a lie.
[Part 2]It was all coral reefs, crystal waters, and presidential vibes.But here’s where it gets twisty ... Here are the key details:Fast forward to 2017 — under the very same presidency — the government gave out mining permits in Raja Ampat.Yes, that paradise.Yes, nickel mining.Yes, we're serious.One of the lucky recipients?PT Gag Nikel, a subsidiary of state-owned Antam.They got the green light to mine on Gag Island, thanks to changes in forestry laws that had previously protected it.And it didn’t stop there:More companies got slices of the island pie:
PT Kawei Sejahtera Mining (Kawe Island, IUP covering 5,922 ha)
PT Anugerah Surya Pratama (Manuran, 9,365 ha plus 1,167 ha)
PT Mulia Raymond Perkasa (Manyaifun & Batang Pele, 2,194 ha)
Basically, if you had a mining hat, Raja Ampat was open for business.
What happened next? Greenpeace and others documented serious ecological harm:Over 500 hectares of rainforest destroyed.Soil erosion, sediment runoff into the ocean.Corals suffocated. Marine life threatened.The paradise that Mulyono once praised... slowly unravelled.It’s one of those stories that makes you go:"Wait, what? How did we go from eco-wonder to extractive horror in just a year?"It is indeed quite plausible to suggest that had the Raja Jawa still been in office, the story of environmental degradation caused by mining in Raja Ampat might not have come to light so readily. In many political systems—Indonesia included—the active presence of a powerful head of state often shapes the flow of information, particularly that which might tarnish a leader's legacy or reveal contradictions between public statements and administrative actions.
While serving as Raja Jawa had substantial control over not just state institutions but also the broader narrative presented by mainstream media. The line between state influence and press freedom in Indonesia has, at times, been blurred—especially when economic interests, such as mining, intersect with state-backed corporations like Antam. In this context, news about environmentally destructive policies or questionable permits can be quietly shelved, or at the very least, significantly underreported.
In short, yes—it is very likely that the environmental consequences of mining in Raja Ampat would have remained largely hidden or muted had Mulyono still been in reigning. Power can suppress not just opposition, but also uncomfortable truths. And yet, as history repeatedly shows, truth has a tendency to surface—eventually—when the political tide turns.
What we are witnessing now—this renewed scrutiny of mining permits in Raja Ampat and their ecological fallout—coincides with Mulyono’s departure from power. It follows a familiar pattern in politics: uncomfortable truths often surface only when the protective cloak of office is lifted. Critics, whistleblowers, and even media outlets tend to speak more freely once the political cost of doing so has diminished.
Moreover, there exists a phenomenon often described as “legacy cleaning,” whereby former allies or silent observers begin to distance themselves from controversial decisions that once went unchallenged. The end of a presidency is not just a transfer of power—it is also a shift in narrative control. As Mulyono exits the stage, his policies—especially those involving land use, natural resources, and economic concessions—are being revisited with fresh scrutiny. Raja Ampat is no longer the spot for snorkelling fun, it’s lost its plot. Once a paradise, pure and bright, now it’s known for wrecking the site.
The lesson? Photos with palm trees and snorkels don’t protect ecosystems—policy does. And when profits take the wheel, paradise pays the price."
The environment, from a scientific perspective, refers to the complex and dynamic system that encompasses all living organisms—humans, animals, plants—and the non-living elements around them, such as air, water, soil, and sunlight. These components interact constantly, forming ecosystems that are delicately balanced and essential for sustaining life. Any disruption to one element can set off a ripple effect, threatening the entire system.
From a philosophical standpoint, the environment is more than just a physical space—it is the foundational relationship between humans and the natural world. Philosophers have long debated whether nature exists to serve humanity (anthropocentrism), or whether all living things possess intrinsic value (biocentrism). Others propose that humans are merely one part of a larger ecological web (ecocentrism), emphasising respect and balance rather than domination.
Politically, the environment is a matter of governance. It involves who has the power to control resources, who makes decisions about land and water use, and how laws are enforced to either protect or exploit natural wealth. Environmental policy is often entangled with political interests, corruption, and international diplomacy, especially as climate change becomes a geopolitical issue.In economics, the environment is viewed as “natural capital”—a source of raw materials and services that fuel development. Traditional economic systems tend to treat environmental degradation as an externality, something to be ignored or marginalised. However, more modern approaches like the green economy attempt to value ecosystems, carbon credits, and biodiversity as assets that must be preserved for long-term benefit.
Socially, the environment shapes human life and is shaped by it. People’s access to clean air, water, and land is often dictated by social status, wealth, or ethnicity. Environmental injustice occurs when marginalised communities bear the brunt of pollution, resource extraction, or climate disasters, while others benefit disproportionately.
Culturally, the environment is woven into identity, tradition, and meaning. Forests may be seen as sacred, rivers may feature in creation stories, and agricultural cycles influence festivals and rituals. When nature is destroyed, cultures suffer too—especially indigenous cultures whose entire worldview is rooted in living harmoniously with the land.
In The Web of Life: A New Scientific Understanding of Living Systems (1996, Anchor Books), Fritjof Capra fundamentally challenges the traditional mechanistic view of nature, which tends to see living organisms as isolated, separate parts functioning independently. Instead, Capra introduces the concept of systems thinking, which perceives nature as an interconnected and dynamic web of relationships. He argues that everything in the natural world is linked through complex networks, where each element influences and is influenced by others. This means that living systems—whether cells, organisms, ecosystems, or even societies—cannot be fully understood by analysing their parts in isolation. Instead, one must examine the patterns and relationships that sustain the whole. Capra’s approach highlights that life is defined not by static components, but by the ongoing processes and interactions that maintain balance and adaptability. This shift from a reductionist perspective to a holistic, systems-oriented worldview revolutionises ecology, emphasising that the health of the entire web depends on the integrity and harmony of its relationships.
Silent Spring (1962, Houghton Mifflin) by Rachel Carson, is a seminal work that brought global attention to the delicate interconnectedness of ecosystems and the profound risks posed by human activity, especially the widespread use of chemical pesticides. Rachel Carson was a marine biologist and conservationist whose writing combined rigorous scientific research with a compelling narrative style, making complex environmental issues accessible to the general public. In her book, she meticulously documented how pesticides such as DDT were not only killing target pests but also contaminating soil, water, and air, thereby harming birds, fish, and other wildlife. Carson explained that ecosystems are composed of countless interdependent species and natural processes, forming a balanced network. When one element is disturbed or poisoned, it can cascade through the system, causing unexpected and often devastating consequences. For example, the decline of bird populations was traced back to the thinning of eggshells caused by pesticide exposure, which threatened entire food chains. Through Silent Spring, Carson argued that humans are not separate from nature but an integral part of it, and that reckless interference with natural processes risks irreparable damage to the environment and, ultimately, to ourselves.
In Gaia: A New Look at Life on Earth (1979, Oxford University Press), James Lovelock presents a visionary blend of science and philosophy through the Gaia hypothesis, which fundamentally reimagines Earth as a self-regulating living organism rather than just a collection of inert parts. Lovelock proposes that the Earth's atmosphere, oceans, soils, and living beings interact in a complex, dynamic system that maintains the conditions necessary for life. This means that the planet actively regulates its climate, chemical composition, and other essential factors to sustain life, much like a single organism maintains its internal balance. Lovelock’s hypothesis challenges traditional scientific views by suggesting that the biosphere and physical components of Earth work together to preserve an environment conducive to life, not by conscious design but through intricate feedback mechanisms. This concept beautifully bridges scientific observation with philosophical reflection on the interconnectedness and resilience of life on our planet. It encourages us to see Earth not as a lifeless rock but as a living entity that deserves respect and protection.
In Ecology, Community and Lifestyle (1989, Cambridge University Press), Arne Naess, widely regarded as the father of deep ecology, develops a profound philosophical framework that challenges the traditional human-centred view of nature. Naess argues that all living beings—plants, animals, and ecosystems—possess intrinsic value in their own right, independent of their utility to humans. This means that the worth of non-human life is not measured solely by how it benefits people but is valuable simply because it exists. Naess promotes a holistic perspective, emphasising the interconnectedness of all life forms within ecological communities. His philosophy encourages a lifestyle that respects and protects the natural world, advocating for a fundamental shift in how humans relate to the environment—from dominators and exploiters to caretakers and members of the broader ecological community. By recognising the intrinsic value of all beings, deep ecology calls for profound ethical and practical changes, urging humans to reduce their ecological footprint and live in harmony with nature.
In Feminism and the Mastery of Nature (1993, Routledge), Val Plumwood presents a groundbreaking ecofeminist critique of the deeply ingrained dualisms that have shaped Western thought—particularly the rigid separation between humans and nature. She argues that this dualism is not neutral, but hierarchical and oppressive, with “human” (implicitly male, rational, and civilised) placed above “nature” (associated with the feminine, emotion, and the wild). Plumwood contends that just as patriarchy subordinates women, Western culture has similarly subordinated nature—treating it as passive, irrational, and something to be mastered or exploited. By showing how this logic of domination operates across both gender and environmental lines, she exposes the philosophical roots of ecological destruction and gender inequality. Her ecofeminist perspective calls for dismantling these binaries and recognising the interconnectedness and agency of both women and nature. Rather than viewing nature as "the other" to be conquered, she proposes a relational ethics—one that values care, mutuality, and respect across all forms of life.
Thus, the environment is not merely a backdrop to human life—it is intricately tied to how we live, govern, believe, build economies, relate to one another, and define who we are.
