Corruption at ATR/BPN: Demanding Accountability from the Minister

Corrupt criminal acts within the Ministry of Agrarian Affairs and Spatial Planning/National Land Agency (ATR/BPN) have once again shaken public trust.

The Corruption Eradication Commission (KPK) conducted a sting operation on September 14, 2026, subsequently naming eight individuals as suspects in a case involving alleged bribery and gratuities related to processing Building Use Rights (HGB).

Among them are officials from ATR/BPN and several private parties.

What gives this case a more serious dimension is the KPK’s statement that four of the eight suspects are reportedly trusted aides of ATR/BPN Minister Nusron Wahid.

They are Arif Sugiyanto, Fahd El Fouz alias Fahd Arafiq, Erwin, and Muhammad Fakhry.

However, it must be emphasized from the outset that Nusron Wahid has not been named a suspect. The KPK has said that summoning Nusron depends on the needs of the investigation.

Therefore, the issue this article wishes to discuss is not whether Nusron Wahid is involved in a criminal offense. That falls within the investigative domain of the KPK and should be respected as a legal process, including the presumption of innocence.

The question then is: must a minister wait until proven criminally involved before being held ethically and administratively accountable for what happens under their ministry? This is where the issue becomes interesting.

Responsibility of Office

In law, we know the principle of individual criminal responsibility. A person cannot be declared guilty simply because they hold a position when a subordinate commits a crime.

However, government accountability is not limited to criminal responsibility. There is also administrative, ethical, political, and institutional accountability.

A minister is the political responsible official for the ministry they lead. Therefore, the standard of accountability is not merely: did they receive money?

A broader question is: how does the oversight system within the ministry function? How are those around the minister allowed to operate?

Why can alleged corrupt practices grow within institutions under their control? Are internal oversight mechanisms working?

Equally important is whether the leader is willing to take responsibility when their institution faces serious problems.

These questions should not be confused with accusing a minister of criminal misconduct. This is precisely where the difference between liability and responsibility must be understood.

Liability relates to legal accountability for an act. Responsibility encompasses a broader dimension: the moral, administrative, and leadership obligation to account for the state of the institution under one’s authority.

In this area, we can learn from Japan.

In modern governance practices, an official’s integrity is not measured solely by one question: did they commit corruption? A wider measure is whether they managed to create an integrity system within the organization they lead.

A leader cannot possibly know all actions of their subordinates. That is true. But precisely because of this, oversight systems, transparency, conflict-of-interest restrictions, reporting mechanisms, and internal control are needed.

If all of those fail, at least we must question the quality of leadership and governance.

In this context, public office differs from ordinary jobs. A minister does not only carry a personal name. They carry the name of the ministry, the government, and the state.

Moreover, ATR/BPN is no ordinary ministry. Land affairs directly touch on public economic interests, investment, agrarian conflicts, legal certainty, land rights, and even an individual’s future livelihood.

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.

Instead, the mentality that emerges is: “As long as I am not a suspect, I must hold on.” However, public officials’ ethical standards should not stop at the suspect question.

If an official’s moral yardstick is merely “I’m not a suspect,” then governance ethics have been reduced to criminal law. And that is dangerous.

The president needs to view this as a governance issue. In a presidential system, ministers ultimately assist the president and are responsible for carrying out government duties according to their position.

Therefore, when a ministry faces a serious corruption case, the president has a direct interest in ensuring the legal process proceeds without obstacles and public trust in the government is maintained.

Policy choices can vary. A minister may continue to perform duties under tightened supervision. A comprehensive evaluation of ministry structures and officials may also be conducted.

Or, if deemed necessary to safeguard the independence of the legal process and institutional credibility, temporary suspension can be considered until the core issues become clearer.

Most importantly, decisions must be based on institutional and national interests, not momentary political pressure.

Change the Culture of Accountability

There is a tendency in our state administration practice to demand officials’ accountability only after their legal status changes to suspect. However, a mature state should not operate on such logic.

The rule of law requires proof processes. Yet, an ethical state demands leadership capable of preventive action before the criminal process concludes.

If future investigations prove that a minister was unaware of, uninvolved in, and unrelated to the suspects’ actions, then their personal honor must certainly be restored.

But during this process, the concern should not solely be the minister’s fate. Far more important is the institution’s fate.

Because a ministry does not belong to a minister. The minister’s office is not private property. And government is not a stage to defend individual dignity. It is a public trust.

The issue afflicting the Ministry of ATR/BPN should not stop at the question: who received money? The more fundamental question is: why did the system allow the money to circulate?

Why were those identified as trusted aides able to be so close to the decision-making process?

Where is internal oversight? How do conflict-of-interest prevention mechanisms function?

And finally: what form of accountability should a leader take when the system under their leadership fails?

This is the moment to shift paradigms from “I am not involved” to “I am responsible for ensuring the institution I lead remains clean.”

From “I’m not a suspect” to “I must uphold the honor of the office.” And from “press on and never retreat” to a new culture: public officials must know when to hold on, when to distance themselves, and when, with moral awareness, to step down for the honor of the institution.

Ultimately, an official’s success is measured not only by how long they remain in office.

Sometimes, history will honor more an official who dares to say: “I do not have to be found guilty to realize that the institution I lead needs my accountability.”

Because in a democratic state, the law determines right and wrong. But ethics determines whether an office is still worth holding when public trust is at stake. Ethics truly stands above the law.