Corruption at ATR/BPN: Demanding Accountability from the Minister

For most people, land is not just a commodity. Land is home. Land is livelihood. Land is inheritance. Land is identity.

Therefore, when allegations of corruption arise in the institution managing land affairs, what is at stake is not only state funds.

What is at stake is the public’s trust in the state as guardian of land rights.

Suspension Is Not a Verdict of Guilt

From a governance perspective, discussing the temporary suspension of an official during ongoing legal proceedings should not automatically be interpreted as punishment.

Suspension can serve as a mechanism to protect the legal process and the institution.

The logic is simple. First, it provides space for law enforcement to work without potential conflicts of interest.

Second, it allows internal examinations to be conducted objectively. Third, it maintains the ministry’s operations with public legitimacy.

Fourth, it offers the concerned official a chance to focus on providing testimony and proving they have no involvement in the case.

Thus, temporary suspension is not synonymous with being "guilty." In the rule of law, a person must be given space to undergo examination processes without being prematurely judged.

This principle is crucial to avoid two extremes. The first extreme: if not a suspect, then there is no leadership problem.

The second extreme: if there is a corruption case, the minister must be involved. Both are equally incorrect. This is where the ethics of office are put to the test.

There is something older than positive law: office ethics. Law asks: is someone guilty? Ethics asks: is someone fit to remain in a certain position when their institution is facing a crisis of trust?

Ethical questions should not be conflated with criminal questions. An official might not be proven guilty of a crime but ethically may still choose to distance themselves from the position to uphold the institution’s honor.

In governmental traditions in several countries, resigning or taking political responsibility when an institution fails seriously does not always mean admitting to a criminal act.

On the contrary, such actions can be read as respect for the office.

Japan, for example, has a stronger tradition of political and moral accountability through officials’ resignations in government scandals.

Of course, Japan’s cultural and political system contexts cannot simply be transplanted to Indonesia.

But there is a universal lesson: public office is not only the right to wield power but also the obligation to bear the moral burden that power entails.

Our problem may not be the lack of rules. We have many regulations. We have law enforcement officers. We have supervisory institutions. We have examination mechanisms.

Yet, there is something that is not easily formed through legislation: a culture of shame in public office.

In a healthy society, a sense of shame should serve as a social control mechanism. Officials whose ministries are embroiled in serious corruption cases should not only be busy explaining they are uninvolved.

They also need to ask themselves: What must I do to ensure the institution I lead retains public trust? This is often missing in our power politics.