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CONTEMPORARY
BALI
CONTESTED SPACE AND GOVERNANCE
AGUNG WARDANA
Contemporary Bali
Agung Wardana
Contemporary Bali
Contested Space and Governance
Agung Wardana
Universitas Gadjah Mada
Yogyakarta, Indonesia
This Palgrave Macmillan imprint is published by the registered company Springer Nature Singapore Pte Ltd.
The registered company address is: 152 Beach Road, #21-01/04 Gateway East, Singapore 189721, Singapore
To: My Mentor, Dr. Carol Warren
Acknowledgements
I have taken up research on this topic not only out of intellectual curios-
ity, but also from a sense of personal responsibility. As a Balinese trained
as a lawyer, I have been involved in environmental and spatial governance
issues in Bali for some years. At first, I should admit that as a lawyer, I
used to believe that in order to transform society we have to have laws in
the first place. I naively assumed law, which is referred exclusively to state
law, as the engine of change and the answer to all societal problems. In
2009, I had the privilege of becoming directly involved as an NGO rep-
resentative on a legal drafting team to formulate the 2009 Provincial
Regulation on Spatial Planning (Perda RTRW Bali No. 16/2009). With
other NGO representatives on the team, we proposed including the
Bhisama religious rulings, provincial strategic areas, and other measures,
which we assumed would be able to address Bali’s current challenges.
However, the outcomes from these efforts at regulation were not what
had been expected. Hence, this research in which this book is derived was
basically to understand why Bali’s spatial governance regime fails to
achieve its objectives in addressing the current environmental crisis.
My encounter with socio-legal research and legal anthropology has
enriched my perspectives to understand how the law is actually conceived
and practiced in a given society. While Margaret Mead is fascinated by
anthropology as “something of revelation”, my turn to anthropology is
actually a search for possibilities, a possibility for social transformation.
vii
viii Acknowledgements
by my beloved Yogi Mitha and the boys, Chanakya and Bhanu, during
difficult times in completing this book.
Moreover, the Faculty of Law, Universitas Gadjah Mada, has been very
supportive in the publication of this book. Here, I would like to express
my gratitude to the Dean, Prof. Sigit Riyanto, and the Deputy Deans
(Dr. Dahliana, Dr. Herliana, and Dr. Mailinda), academic staffs, col-
leagues in the Department of Environmental Law (Pak Harry, Mas Yun,
Mas Totok, Bu Fajar, Mba Dinar), and the MIH Jakarta management
(Prof Sulistiowati, Siti, Beta, Debby, Donald, Elsa, and Pak Yono).
Last but not least, I would like to express my special thanks to Murdoch
University for awarding me a Murdoch International Postgraduate
Scholarship (MIPS) from which this study was generously funded.
Without the scholarship, this book would not have been possible in the
first place. I believe that there is no such thing as an individual achieve-
ment, and my achievement in completing this piece of work to a larger
extent has been shaped by generous people around me. Without their
contributions, I would not have undergone this intellectual journey. All
errors in this book, however, remain solely mine.
1 Introduction 1
Spatial Governance and the Law 8
Methodology 21
Book Structure 23
xi
xii Contents
8 Conclusion235
The Framework and Its Implication to Literature 242
References249
Index283
Abbreviations
xiii
xiv Abbreviations
xvii
xviii List of Figures
xix
1
Introduction
Dutch Colonial in the early twentieth century, the tourism industry has
been growing rapidly, in the process compromising environmental sustain-
ability and commodifying local culture (Picard 1996; Vickers 2012). The
marginalisation of local communities, social and cultural displacement, as
well as violence, contributed to the expansion of tourism on the island under
the authoritarian regime of Suharto and has continued since (Aditjondro
1995; Warren 1998).
Following the fall of Suharto’s authoritarian regime in the late 1990s,
the state structure was reconfigured through a process of decentralisation.
Here, decentralisation should be seen as a form of downward rescaling in
which governance is transferred from the national to the regional govern-
ment. This reconfiguration of space and governance was a response to
internal pressures from disaffected regions and to external pressures from
the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund seeking to liber-
alise the Indonesian economy (Schulte Nordholt and van Klinken 2007;
Hadiz 2010; von Benda-Beckmann and von Benda-Beckmann 2013). In
this process, authorities were notably transferred from the national gov-
ernment to district rather than to provincial level government, in part,
because decentralisation to the provincial level was considered to threaten
national integrity (McCarthy and Warren 2009, 5), but also because
decentralisation to the district level had long been regarded as a mecha-
nism for promoting neoliberal development and deregulation agendas
(Hadiz 2010). Hence, under this new regime, the district government
has become a new locus of power to pursue development across the
archipelago.
Under decentralised governance, Bali’s eight districts and one munici-
pality1 have acquired a strong sense of authority to govern their territories
(Wardana 2015). Economically, Badung is the richest district in the prov-
ince because of its administrative and geographical position, where
mature tourism infrastructures, including Kuta and Nusa Dua as well as
Ngurah Rai International Airport, are situated. In 2014, Badung’s local
revenues (PAD—pendapatan asli daerah) reached US$ 195 million—
1
These are the districts of Badung, Gianyar, Tabanan, Jembrana, Buleleng, Karangasem, Bangli,
Klungkung, and Denpasar Municipality.
4 A. Wardana
much larger than the other eight districts’ revenues combined (BPS Bali
2015, 422).2 More than 70% of Badung’s revenue is derived from the
tourism sector, primarily from hotel and restaurant taxes (Tribun Bali,
01/04/2015). The economic success of Badung from the tourism indus-
try has had a ‘demonstration effect’, encouraging the other districts in
Bali to follow Badung’s path of development.
All districts have been competing to attract tourism investments and
to extract revenues from such investments within their territory. In doing
so, they often disregard the impacts of development beyond their territo-
rial borders, not to mention side effects within. Promoting tourist invest-
ment provides opportunities for regional elites to engage in rent-seeking
practices and chase easy money from granting permits or acting as local
brokers. Hence, tourism and its related industries, especially the real
estate and property businesses, have spread across the island while the
provincial government made little effort to control district competition
and the alarming path of development although it has the authority to
supervise these.3 In fact, despite its proclaimed concern for balancing
development and protecting the island’s culture and environment, the
provincial government has also pursued policies that exacerbate these
problems.
These accumulative impacts in the development of the tourism indus-
try in Bali have affected social and environmental conditions in contem-
porary Bali. Many scholars have observed Bali reaching its tipping point
that has led towards a socio-ecological crisis (Reuter 2003; Lewis and
Lewis 2009; Suryani et al. 2009; Bali Post, 11/01/2009; Fox 2012).
Productive agricultural land is converted to support tourism infrastruc-
ture (resorts, hotels, villas, and golf courses) in the framework of a mass
tourism-oriented model of development, at a rate of around 1000 hectares
2
In 2014, these districts’ local revenues were A$ 8.9 million (Jembrana); A$ 27 million (Tabanan);
$A 42 million (Gianyar); A$ 9.8 million (Klungkung); A$ 7.6 million (Bangli); A$ 24 million
(Karangasem); A$ 22 million (Buleleng); and A$ 69.8 million (Denpasar) (BPS Bali 2015,
422–424).
3
One example of the ineffective policy by the Provincial Government was ‘the moratorium’ of new
hotel development in 2011. The appeal was not fully respected by investors and the district govern-
ment (see Detik News, 09/02/2011).
Introduction 5
their power over space, people, and resources. Unlike Razzaque (2013)
who defines governance optimistically as a form of power sharing between
state and non-state actors to pursue the sustainable management of natu-
ral resources, in this book, I am concerned with the contests of power
that are shaped by antagonistic interests and competing visions of the
social world.
In this book, I examine the dynamics of spatial governance in defining
and regulating space, people, and resources, through contests over and
accommodation to the state’s spatial planning regime under the reform
era of Indonesia. The particular focus of this book is on the ways in which
such contestation and accommodation engage with the contemporary
crisis confronting Bali. In so doing, I address three research questions:
how spatial planning is used as a development strategy to address the
rapidly changing environmental, socio-economic, political, and cultural
contexts in contemporary Bali; how the complex legal and institutional
configurations of decentralised governance interface with the spatial
planning regime in advancing particular interests while constraining oth-
ers; and how social forces respond to the reorganisation of space and its
institutional arrangements. In answering these questions, an adequate
analytical framework is needed to comprehend the fragmented and plu-
ralistic nature of political and legal life and its socio-spatial implications
in post-authoritarian Indonesia (Warren 2007; Aspinall 2013a; von
Benda-Beckmann and von Benda-Beckmann 2013).
In general, there are two main streams in spatial planning literature. The
first one is the technocratic stream. In this stream, spatial planning is pri-
marily studied as a scientific exercise in organising space. It also concerns
how spatial planning should be conducted and improved by establishing
adequate institutions (Healey 1997; Kidd and Shaw 2007; Faludi 2010)
and introducing new approaches (Beard 2002; Schroll et al. 2012;
Introduction 9
to maximise its owners’ personal profit in the private sphere, and objec-
tives that aim to exercise governmental power in regulating the use of
land according to public interest and environmental sustainability (Platt
2004; see also Priemus 1997). Accordingly, the state, assuming its neu-
trality within plural societal interests, has become the central institution
to balance this tension within the frame of a constitutionally inscribed
common goal. However, this liberal planning seems to be problematic
within East Asian developing countries, where the distinction between
public and private spheres is more or less blurred and the state is far from
neutral due to its close collusion with vested interests (see Robison 1986;
Jayasuriya 1999).
More recently, scholars have pointed out that neoliberalism has been the
prevailing idea of the century. Neoliberalism here refers to a “theory of
political economic practices that proposes that human well-being can
best be advanced by liberating individual entrepreneurial freedoms and
skills within an institutional framework characterized by strong private
property rights, free markets, and free trade” (Harvey 2005a, 2). The
practices have brought important changes to spatial planning policies
and practices. In the neoliberal time, space is ‘reterritorialised’ to acceler-
ate circulation of “people, commodities, capital, money, identities and
images through global space” (Brenner 1999, 431), in what many critical
geographers call a ‘neoliberalisation’ of space (Peck and Tickell 2002;
Brenner et al. 2010; Allmendinger and Haughton 2013). In this context,
‘neoliberalism’ is seen as a regulatory transformation process to pursue a
free-market economy that is “variegated, geographically uneven, and
path dependent” (Brenner et al. 2010, 327). Within this process, spatial
planning plays an important part to reconfigure the existing spatial con-
figuration and to re-scale its spatial governance ‘upward’, ‘downward’, or
‘outward’ to suit the expansion of market forces (Brenner 1999; Reed and
Bruyneel 2010). ‘Upward’ governance refers to the transfer of the existing
governance of a spatial unit to a higher tier of state institutions, for
example, from regional to national governments, and ‘downward’ is
Introduction 11
(Law No. 24/1992) was considered no longer relevant for pursuing devel-
opment under the regional autonomy regime and contemporary market-
oriented policies (Rukmana 2015). In 2007, a new spatial planning law
(Law No. 26/2007) was enacted hand-in-hand with the adoption of new
laws dealing with investments (Law No. 25/2007),4 as well as coastal area
and small island management (Law No. 27/2007)5 and following the
adjustment of natural resources-related legislation. These legislative
changes were part of a post-crisis reform package outlined in the
Government of Indonesia—International Monetary Fund (IMF) Letters
of Intent (LoI) which sets out how the structural adjustment and legal
reform agenda in post-crisis Indonesia should be undertaken by the gov-
ernment. It stipulated reform not only in the financial, investment and
banking systems but also reform in environmental, natural resources, as
well as energy sectors to bring them into line with global markets.6 Hence,
the environmental and spatial governance during this era has become a
product of the ‘amalgamation of law’ in which “various elements from
different legal systems” have been adopted to fit changing Indonesian
structural conditions (Bedner 2008, 172).
The new spatial planning law uses a comprehensive spatial planning
approach that not only deals with plan making (perencanaan ruang), but
also space utilisation (pemanfaatan ruang) and space utilisation control
(pengendalian pemanfataan ruang) by giving bigger roles than before for
regional government to implement those tasks (Hudallah 2010; Rukmana
2015). Hudallah (2010) argues that this new spatial planning law is the
4
For the first time, Investment Law No. 25/2007 does not conceptually differentiate between ‘for-
eign investment’ (penanaman modal asing) and ‘domestic investment’ (penanaman modal dalam
negeri); consequently, they have similar treatment under the Indonesian economic law regime
(Article 6 of Law No. 25/2007). This legal framework follows the World Trade Organisation’s
(WTO) basic principle of ‘non-discrimination’, especially the norm of ‘national-treatment’ in
which a state party should treat economic actors equally regardless their country of origin.
5
The Coastal Area and Small Island Management Law No. 27/2007 gave the authority to the gov-
ernment to grant a hak pengusahaan perairan pesisir (HP3/the right of business in coastal waters) to
non-state enterprises in utilising and managing a designated water area. However, in June 2011, the
provisions on HP3 were finally revoked by the Constitutional Court because they violated the
1945 Constitution by opening coastal water areas to privatisation and commercialisation, which
might disrupt local livelihoods within such areas (see Putusan MK No. 3/PUU-VIII/2010).
6
See LoI on 16 March 1999; 20 January 2000; 7 September 2000; 31 December 2001.
Introduction 13
The spatial turn in socio-legal studies has become one of the most signifi-
cant developments in legal theory over the past two decades, by forcing
law to be grounded (Philippopoulos-Mihalopoulos 2012). A number of
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