Opa, as I call him, was born in a small village on Rote Island in 1912. He had a vibrant career, serving as minister of public works, serving on UNESCO’s executive board and helping to reform the Indonesian language. However, Indonesians probably remember him most fondly as a Gadjah Mada University professor and as the university’s second rector. Many people may also recognize him as the guy on the 100 rupiah coin.

Much has been written about my Opa and his life. Yet most articles tend to leave out one of the most important things about him — his dedication to protecting the environment. For World Environment Day, I want to highlight my grandfather’s spirit of conservation.

During his lifetime, from 1912 to 1992, my Opa observed how the heavy reliance on firewood by many of the residents of his community was potentially leading to forest degradation in the area. Around the world, wood fuel remains the dominant source of energy for billions of people, especially for the rural poor in developing countries. Although wood is considered a renewable source of energy, overexploitation can result in deforestation.

My Opa, seeing this issue, developed biomass briquettes and introduced them to local communities. Created easily from waste such as dry leaves, weeds and grass, the briquettes provided a cleaner, cheaper alternative to firewood and kerosene. Besides that, he campaigned for reforestation efforts throughout Indonesia and became a sharp critic of selective logging practices.

Indonesia’s growing number of vehicles and the country’s large dependence on oil greatly concerned him as well. He believed adamantly that Indonesia’s energy future rested in solar, hydro, geothermal and nuclear power. He believed it was time for Indonesia to make the necessary transitions, warning of the devastating changes to the climate that would come if we didn’t. That was 40 years ago.

Today, the world lives in a climate emergency. Nowhere is that more evident than in the Indonesian archipelago. Jakarta, the fastest-sinking city in the world, began 2020 with the worst flooding in over a decade. The floods left dozens dead and tens of thousands of residents displaced.

The rising sea level has taken away Indonesian lives, Indonesian livelihoods and even Indonesians islands themselves. Two islands have disappeared since the start of the year and more are set to follow.

Despite experiencing the effects of climate change first hand, Indonesia is a hotbed of climate change denial. A YouGov and University of Cambridge survey found that 18 percent of Indonesians believe that climate change is unrelated to human behavior. While climate change denial is largely attributed to the lack of environmental education, it also doesn’t help that the Indonesian government has very little regard for science.

President Joko “Jokowi” Widodo’s disregard for scientists has never been more clear than during this coronavirus pandemic. Furthermore, Jokowi’s job creation bill, popularly known as the omnibus bill, which would eliminate environmental impact assessments as a requirement for businesses, is another example of the President’s dangerous disregard for science.

Indonesia’s anti-science attitudes would certainly break my Opa's heart. Being a scientist was a core part of his identity. But it’s crucial to understand that my Opa's passion for environmental protection stemmed from beyond him being a scientist.

I believe much of it also had to do with him being a patriot. As someone who fought for Indonesian independence, he strongly believed in the advancement of the Indonesian people. He cared about bettering the lives of Indonesians in the lowest levels of society. I believe that’s at the heart of why he cared so deeply about conservation. He understood the intrinsic link between social justice and environmental justice.

Scientists today remind us that the world’s poor will suffer the most from the catastrophic effects of climate change. If my Opa were alive today, I can’t imagine him anywhere but at the forefront of fighting this climate crisis. He would be holding polluters and our complicit leaders accountable and demanding action. He wouldn’t stand idly by as those who refuse to hear the climate wake-up calls jeopardize the futures of millions of Indonesians.

National hero is the highest title the Indonesian government can bestow on a person. It’s an extremely small and exclusive club to belong to. Less than 200 individuals have been awarded the honor. There’s a sense of gravity in declaring a person a national hero. When the government bestows the title on a person, they are choosing to make a public statement. They’re choosing to say to every Indonesian that that person’s life was significant and they are worthy of our honor.

I’ve been thinking about the ways we honor our national heroes. We build statues in their likeness, we name places after them and we put their faces on our currency. But are those the ways we should be honoring our national heroes?

As a granddaughter of a national hero, here’s how I want my Opa to be honored. Honor my Opa by embodying the values of conservation he stood for. Honor him by caring about the poor. And honor him by taking the climate crisis seriously. Our national heroes fought for us to have a nation, now let’s fight to make sure it has a future.

***

Azalea Johannes is an Indonesian raised in Washington D.C. and a community organizer and advocate for the Indonesian diaspora. 

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