In late September 2025, a public health emergency unfolded across West Bandung Regency, shaking the foundations of a flagship government initiative. The Free Nutritious Meal programme—known as MBG—was designed to nourish students and uplift the next generation. Instead, it became the source of mass poisoning, affecting over 1,300 students from primary to vocational schools in Cipongkor and Cihambelas. The symptoms were severe: vomiting, dizziness, diarrhoea. Local authorities declared the situation extraordinary, but the national response lagged behind.The President was abroad, and the head of the National Nutrition Agency awaited instructions. Meanwhile, the number of victims continued to rise, even after the food supplier had been replaced. By midday on 25 September, an additional 730 students had fallen ill. In Banggai Kepulauan, a similar outbreak had already prompted a regional moratorium. Yet at the national level, silence prevailed.Since the launch of Indonesia’s MBG programme in January 2025, reports of food poisoning have steadily increased across the archipelago. According to the National Nutrition Agency (BGN), as of 22 September 2025, there have been 4,711 confirmed cases of poisoning linked to MBG meals. These cases are concentrated in Java, with dozens of incidents classified as public health emergencies.However, independent watchdogs present higher figures. The Indonesian Education Monitoring Network (JPPI) reports 6,452 cases by 21 September, while CISDI (Center for Indonesia’s Strategic Development Initiatives) estimates 5,626 cases. The discrepancy stems from differing definitions: BGN only counts verified outbreaks, whereas JPPI and CISDI include suspected cases and media-reported incidents.This divergence in data underscores the systemic opacity and fragmented accountability surrounding MBG’s implementation. What was meant to be a flagship nutrition programme has instead become a cautionary tale of logistical failure and public health risk.Public trust began to erode. Analysts from CISD (Center for Indonesian Strategic Development Initiative) revealed that poisoning cases had been surfacing since January, with a steady increase in frequency. The government’s attempt to trivialise the issue—suggesting students were poisoned for not using spoons—was met with disbelief. Each month brought new controversy: corruption in June, pork oil in August, coercive parental consent forms in September. The MBG programme, once hailed as a pillar of the 2045 Golden Generation vision, now stood on precarious ground.Civil society groups demanded immediate action: a nationwide moratorium, a comprehensive audit, safe reporting channels, and a redesign that integrates education and health. They called for strict food safety standards and protection for whistleblowers. Above all, they urged the government to limit the consumption of ultra-processed foods that are high in sugar, salt, and fat.Amid whispers of political sabotage, the public’s concern remained clear: accountability. The MBG programme was meant to nourish the future, not endanger it. If left unchecked, this crisis could become a self-inflicted wound—undermining not only the initiative but the credibility of the administration itself.According to The National School Lunch Program by Gordon W. Gunderson (1971, U.S. Department of Agriculture), school lunch is not merely a nutritional service—it is a national investment in human potential. Gunderson argues that a well-fed child is not just healthier, but more attentive, more capable of learning, and more likely to thrive both academically and socially. The programme emerged from a recognition that hunger impairs education, and that no child should be expected to concentrate on an empty stomach.He frames school lunch as part of the country’s infrastructure, just as vital as textbooks or teachers. It’s not charity, he insists, but a public good—an institutional commitment to equity. Especially during times of crisis like the Great Depression and World War II, the programme served dual purposes: feeding children and stabilising agricultural markets. Gunderson believed that by nourishing children, the nation was also nourishing its future workforce, its civic strength, and its moral compass. School lunch is portrayed as a quiet but powerful force—one that shapes not only bodies, but minds and societies.The National School Lunch Act, passed in 1946 in the United States, was born not merely out of legislative necessity but from a profound moral reckoning. Its roots stretch back to the Great Depression and World War II, when widespread child malnutrition collided with national concerns about military readiness. During wartime, it became alarmingly clear that many young men were physically unfit for service due to poor childhood nutrition. This revelation catalysed a shift in public consciousness: feeding children was no longer seen as charity, but as a matter of national strength and civic duty.The Act’s purpose was twofold. First, to ensure that every child—regardless of background—could access a nutritious meal during the school day. Second, to stabilise agricultural markets by using surplus produce to feed students, thus supporting both farmers and families. But beyond policy mechanics, the Act carried a deeper promise: that no child should be expected to learn on an empty stomach. It framed school lunch as part of the educational infrastructure, just as vital as books or teachers.Gordon W. Gunderson, one of the programme’s architects, described it not simply as a law, but as a moral commitment to the nation’s youth. The lunch tray became a symbol of equity, resilience, and foresight—a quiet but powerful intervention that recognised food as the foundation of learning, dignity, and opportunity.Viewed through the lens of The National School Lunch Program by Gordon W. Gunderson, MBG (Makan Bergizi Gratis) is not merely a policy—it is a moral undertaking. Gunderson’s account of the American school lunch programme reminds us that feeding children is not a logistical task, but a national promise. If MBG were to adopt the spirit of Gunderson’s vision, it would move beyond spectacle and slogans, and embrace the quiet dignity of infrastructure: food as essential as books, as foundational as classrooms.Gunderson’s emphasis on equity, resilience, and systemic design offers a blueprint for MBG’s transformation. He recognised that feeding children required more than good intentions—it demanded coordination across ministries, reliable supply chains, and community trust. MBG, in its current form, has stumbled on these very fronts. The outbreaks of food poisoning, the opaque procurement processes, and the lack of public accountability suggest a programme still caught between ambition and execution.To align with Gunderson’s ethos, MBG must be reimagined as a public good, not a political project. That means embedding food safety into its DNA, decentralising oversight, and treating every meal served as a measure of national integrity. Gunderson believed that no child should learn on an empty stomach. MBG must go further: no child should be harmed by the very meal meant to nourish them.School Meals: Building Blocks for Healthy Children (edited by Virginia A. Stallings, Carol West Suitor, and Christine L. Taylor) is a report by the Institute of Medicine’s Committee on Nutrition Standards for the National School Lunch and Breakfast Programs. It sets out a careful and science-based rethinking of how school meal programmes in the United States should be shaped to nourish children properly and prepare them for healthier lives. It does not merely present nutrient tables and guidelines, but instead weaves together research evidence, dietary recommendations, and practical considerations in a way that speaks to policymakers, educators, and food providers alike. The authors argue that the purpose of school meals is not only to fill stomachs but to cultivate lifelong habits of good eating, making fruits, vegetables, whole grains, and balanced portions the everyday normality for young people. They further stress that such reforms should be realistic, acknowledging the financial and logistical constraints of schools, while also challenging food systems to rise to higher standards. When one considers Indonesia’s Makan Bergizi Gratis (MBG) programme, the resonance is striking: both initiatives recognise that a school meal is never just a plate of food, but a strategic investment in human capital. Just as the American model ties nutrition to national well-being and future productivity, MBG could be framed as Indonesia’s own effort to create not only fuller but also healthier and sharper generations, provided the programme ensures quality, not merely quantity.
When we compare the nutritional standards outlined in School Meals: Building Blocks for Healthy Children with the potential framework for Indonesia’s Makan Bergizi Gratis (MBG) programme, several insights emerge that can help shape a more effective and health-focused approach. The American model is deeply structured: it specifies daily and weekly ranges for calories, protein, vitamins, minerals, fruits, vegetables, whole grains, and limits for saturated fat and sodium. This precision ensures that every child, regardless of personal choice or menu variation, receives a balanced intake that supports growth, cognitive development, and long-term health. In contrast, MBG currently emphasises calorie sufficiency and general access, which is crucial for tackling hunger, but may not consistently address the broader spectrum of nutrients that foster full developmental potential. By integrating lessons from the American system, MBG could incorporate clear targets for essential vitamins and minerals, promote the inclusion of fruits, vegetables, and whole grains in every meal, and set practical limits on salt, sugar, and unhealthy fats, all while respecting local dietary habits and food availability. Such a blend of accessibility and quality could transform MBG from a programme that merely feeds children into a strategic initiative that builds healthier, smarter, and more resilient generations.
School Lunch Politics: The Surprising History of America’s Favorite Welfare Program, written by Susan Levine (2008, Princeton University Press) offers a compelling and often provocative account of how school lunch in the United States became a battleground of ideology, race, class, and federal power. Levine traces the evolution of the National School Lunch Program from its inception in the 1940s to its contested role in the twenty-first century, revealing that what might seem like a simple act of feeding children is, in fact, deeply political.She argues that school lunch has always been more than nutrition—it is a mirror of national values. From Cold War anxieties to civil rights struggles, from debates over gender roles to fights over budget cuts, the lunch tray becomes a site of negotiation between public welfare and private interest. Levine shows how food served in schools reflects broader tensions: who deserves help, what counts as healthy, and how much control the federal government should have over local communities.The book also explores how race and poverty shaped access to school meals, and how activists, parents, and policymakers clashed over what children should eat and who should pay for it. Levine’s tone is sharp yet empathetic, revealing the contradictions of a programme that is both beloved and embattled. In her view, school lunch is not just about calories—it’s about citizenship, dignity, and the politics of care.
Through the lens of School Lunch Politics by Susan Levine, the MBG programme’s challenges are not merely logistical—they are deeply political, cultural, and structural. Levine’s work reveals that school lunch programmes are never just about food; they are about power, equity, and the contested meaning of care. Applying her insights to MBG, we begin to see that the crisis is not only about spoiled meals or supplier errors—it’s about who gets to decide what children eat, whose voices are heard, and how public welfare is framed.To resolve MBG’s problems, Indonesia must first acknowledge that feeding children is a political act. It requires transparency, community involvement, and a shift from top-down control to participatory governance. Levine’s analysis shows that when school lunch is treated as a welfare handout or a political trophy, it becomes vulnerable to scandal and mistrust. But when it is rooted in dignity, rights, and public accountability, it becomes resilient.MBG must be reimagined not as a campaign, but as a civic infrastructure. That means embedding it in law, decentralising oversight, and involving parents, teachers, and local communities in menu planning, safety checks, and feedback loops. Levine’s work reminds us that food is never neutral—it carries the weight of history, identity, and justice. If MBG wants to survive and thrive, it must become a programme that listens, adapts, and respects the people it serves.Rethinking School Lunch Guide (2004, Center for Ecoliteracy) is a comprehensive manual designed to assist educators, administrators, and community leaders in transforming school food systems. It explores how school lunches can become a catalyst for broader educational reform, environmental stewardship, and public health improvement. The guide advocates for a holistic approach, integrating curriculum development, food procurement, kitchen infrastructure, and community engagement. It encourages schools to view lunch not merely as a break in the day, but as a pedagogical opportunity—one that nourishes both body and mind. By reimagining the lunchroom as a classroom, the guide proposes that children can learn about ecology, culture, and social responsibility through the very act of eating. It also addresses the systemic challenges of implementing change, offering strategic frameworks and case studies to inspire action.According to the Rethinking School Lunch Guide, the school cafeteria is not merely a place where children queue for meals—it is envisioned as a dynamic educational space, a living laboratory of values, culture, and community. The guide proposes that the cafeteria can serve as a hub for experiential learning, where students engage with concepts of sustainability, nutrition, and social equity through the food they eat and the systems that deliver it. Far from being peripheral, the lunchroom is positioned at the heart of the school’s mission to nurture well-rounded, informed citizens. It becomes a stage where ecological awareness, cultural appreciation, and democratic participation are enacted daily, bite by bite.From the lens of the Rethinking School Lunch Guide, the school cafeteria aligns seamlessly with the ethos of Merdeka Belajar—Indonesia’s vision for liberated, student-centred education. The guide views the lunchroom not as a peripheral service, but as a core pedagogical space where autonomy, relevance, and contextual learning flourish. Just as MBG seeks to empower students to learn through experience, curiosity, and local wisdom, the guide proposes that food itself can be a medium of inquiry. The cafeteria becomes a site where ecological literacy, cultural identity, and democratic participation are not abstract ideals, but daily practices. It’s where students can explore the origins of their meals, question supply chains, and co-create menus that reflect their communities. In short, the school lunchroom becomes a living curriculum—one that feeds both the body and the spirit of Merdeka Belajar.The MBG programme stands at a critical juncture. The question of what must be evaluated is not merely technical—it is existential. At its core, MBG was designed to nourish the nation’s youth, yet recent events have exposed systemic vulnerabilities that demand urgent scrutiny.What must be evaluated? Everything. From procurement chains and supplier vetting to food safety protocols, distribution logistics, and the very governance structure that oversees MBG. The programme’s operational DNA must be dissected: Who decides the menus? How are suppliers selected? What accountability mechanisms exist when things go wrong? Evaluation must also extend to communication—how the government responds to crises, how it listens to communities, and how it rebuilds trust.One of the fundamental issues facing the MBG programme is the absence of a robust legal framework. Without a clear legislative foundation, MBG operates in a grey zone—neither fully institutionalised nor adequately protected. This lack of legal clarity undermines its credibility, weakens oversight, and leaves it vulnerable to mismanagement and politicisation.If we examine MBG through the lens of The National School Lunch Program by Gordon W. Gunderson, the contrast is striking. In the United States, the school lunch initiative was anchored by the National School Lunch Act of 1946, a law that not only defined its operational mechanisms but also enshrined its moral purpose: to ensure that no child is expected to learn on an empty stomach. Gunderson viewed this legislation as a moral covenant, not just a bureaucratic tool.MBG, by comparison, lacks such a covenant. It is driven by executive momentum rather than legal permanence. This means that its standards, funding, and accountability structures can shift with political winds. To truly serve the public, MBG must be codified—its goals, safety protocols, and governance mechanisms written into law. Only then can it evolve from a campaign promise into a lasting public institution.The absence of a legal framework for the MBG programme carries serious consequences—both structural and symbolic. Without a formal law to anchor its existence, MBG floats in a space of political improvisation. It lacks the permanence, clarity, and enforceability that legislation provides. This means that its funding can be unstable, its standards inconsistent, and its oversight fragmented. In short, MBG becomes vulnerable to the whims of political cycles, rather than protected by institutional continuity.Operationally, the lack of legal grounding makes it difficult to establish clear responsibilities. Who is accountable when food poisoning occurs? What recourse do parents have when safety is compromised? Without legal mandates, these questions remain unanswered. It also weakens public trust. A programme that feeds millions of children should not operate like a campaign—it should function like a public utility, with safeguards, transparency, and recourse.Symbolically, the absence of law sends a troubling message: that child nutrition is optional, not essential. It reduces MBG from a national commitment to a political gesture. To truly serve its purpose, MBG must be written into law—not just to protect its existence, but to elevate its meaning.Should MBG be paused? Yes, but not abandoned. A temporary moratorium is not a retreat—it is a responsible recalibration. The pause should last long enough to conduct a full audit, redesign safety standards, and rebuild public confidence. This is not a matter of weeks, but of readiness. The programme must only resume when it can guarantee safety, transparency, and dignity.During the pause, the government must engage in deep listening. Civil society, educators, nutritionists, and affected communities must be invited into the redesign process. Emergency nutrition support should be provided through alternative channels to ensure no child goes hungry. The pause must be active, not passive—a time of repair, not silence.And how do we shift the perception of MBG from “a project” to “a public good”? By stripping away the optics of spectacle and replacing them with substance. MBG must no longer be a photo-op, a political trophy, or privileges for friends and supporters. The problem is, the economy only revolves around the same people. It must be a quiet, consistent commitment to child welfare. That means decentralising control, embedding community oversight, and ensuring that MBG is not something done to people, but with them. Only then can MBG evolve from a fragile programme into a resilient promise. By the way, why do MBG food trays have to be imported from China?
