Rubber, Gold & Gotong Royong: Livelihood Development in West Kalimantan

Gold Mining | Short-term Gains, Long-term Damage 

“These are good people,” explains Pak Jaga, the current leader of the Balai Agas LPHD and former head of the village. “They don’t do gold mining for fun—they do it because they think they don’t have any other choice.” But short-sighted decisions can have long-term impacts. Gold mining causes irreversible ecosystem damage; for villages like Balai Agas, it also creates a socio-economic problem. “Mining can’t last forever,” explains Pak Jaga. “I worry that when the gold runs out, we’ll be back where we started—but the damage to our forest will be impossible to repair.”  

All That Glitters is Not Gold: The Problem of PETI in Kalimantan

Unregulated gold mining—known as ‘PETI’ (Pertambangan Tanpa Izin)—is a key driver of deforestation, soil degradation and landscape destruction, while sedimentation and altered river flows disrupt watershed systems, exacerbating the risks posed by heavy rains and flooding. In addition, the use of mercury and cyanide in gold processing results in severe contamination of waterways, sediments and riverine biodiversity, with mercury transforming into toxic methylmercury that bioaccumulates through the food chain. 

Helping Rubber to Rebound in Balai Agas 

To support these choices, SUAR have created a four-module livelihood training scheme that covers land preparation, planting, harvesting, processing and post-harvest handling; all training materials are designed to help rubber farmers get the most out of their existing plots, raising the quality of local products to align with factory standards in Pontianak. Ibu Ranti is the manager of SUAR’s training programme. “We’re also encouraging participants to become trainers themselves,” she explains, “by passing on the knowledge they have gained to the next crop of trainees and supporting a new generation of rubber farmers to make sure their livelihoods remain safe, sustainable and profitable.”

One of the training participants is Pak Kornel; a 53-year-old rubber farmer who has been tapping rubber trees on his plantation in Balai Agas since he was a boy. “I have no formal education,” he explains, “so everything I’ve learned over the years comes from my parents or from my own experience.” He owns around 700 trees, which can yield around 5kg of rubber every month—just enough to put food on the table. “What the trainers taught me turned out to be very useful and I have already seen a small improvement in my results,” he says. “Before, it was like having a boat without paddles; but with this training from SUAR, I have the support I need to manage my plantation and get the most out of it.”

Pak Kornel is one of many who stand to benefit from SUAR’s livelihood training programme. Looking ahead, they are targeting 720 participants across three villages, including young farmers who need help getting started. For Pak Kornel and the current generation, the training is providing some much-needed support amid challenges caused by price fluctuations. “I hope this training will continue in the future,” he says, “as it can really benefit small communities like ours—every drop of rubber sap contributes to our improved welfare.” Similarly, every tap of the rubber tree represents a step away from the gold mines.

Changing Systems and Perspectives in Piawas

Gold mining is a recent development in Balai Agas. But another village supported by SUAR—called Piawas—is already familiar with these risks, and has taken steps to prevent them. Pak Eko Payuda is Head of the Piawas LPHD. He understands why many local farmers are attracted to short-term, extractive opportunities. “This is a major issue in environmental conservation,” he says. “Our solution is to involve miners in our programmes, so they have a more long-term alternative; some have been recruited as forest patrol team members or fire prevention teams. We involve them in reforestation programmes and planting crops, so they have a stake in conservation and the results will benefit them directly.”

By working closely with local government and raising awareness in neighbouring villages, Eko has seen a shift in local attitudes. “Today,” he says, “we’re proud to say there is no gold mining with the Hutan Desa (village forest), and the forest is beginning to recover.” By rooting their response in local knowledge, by connecting the productivity of ecosystems to their underlying health, and by ensuring benefits are felt in local institutions and economies, SUAR’s efforts are helping to ensure livelihoods contribute meaningfully to forest protection efforts. 

Eko embodies the attitudes SUAR is working to instil in local governance. “For me, nature is life,” he explains. “A source of peace and inspiration; in nature, we can see a diverse network of plants and organisms working and growing together, supporting one another and providing life for others. Through SUAR, we are working to achieve that same sense of collectivism—protecting nature so it can continue to provide for the community.”

Sustainable Livelihood Development: How it Works, Why it Matters

Throughout Indonesia, the Rimba Collective is working to raise awareness and build technical capacity in forest-adjacent villages, to ensure local livelihoods protect, rather than deplete, natural ecosystems and the resources they provide. In practice, this combines a number of essential approaches:

• Job creation, exploring the potential of new commodities, such as rubber, rice, coffee, cacao and bananas;
• Raising awareness about the potential risks and consequences of more destructive alternatives, such as mining, logging, land clearance and poaching;
• Technical training in agricultural techniques, to improve yields, reduce fire risk and minimise environmental impact;
• Market access and product development, to maximise economic potential and secure long-term income for agricultural enterprises; and 
• Information sharing and advocacy, to harness traditional knowledge and upscale best practices among neighbouring initiatives.

Each of these interconnected activities are formalised and implemented through the creation of social forestry business groups (Kelompok Usaha Perhutanan Sosial, or KUPS); nature-positive enterprises that respect land rights, support essential services and offer viable alternatives to deforestation-driven income. KUPS are a key feature of all projects in the Rimba Collective portfolio, designed to dovetail with forest protection, restoration and the conservation of biodiversity.

Ultimately, this creates the conditions in which mutually beneficial community-led forest stewardship can take root and grow. Through this approach, the Rimba Collective is already benefiting more than 14,700 forest-dependent households, while supporting the protection and restoration of 466,203 hectares of forests.

Project Profile: SUAR 

“This is about building a system,” explains Sukar Taji, the Director of SUAR, “so that protecting the forest also creates livelihoods, and so that village institutions can grow, generate income and begin to manage the forest on their own.” Only a locally rooted, long-term partner like SUAR has the capacity to implement the kind of behavioural and systems changes needed; and even SUAR has not found this journey to be simple.

“In the beginning, we were often rejected by the communities,” says Taji, who remembers on more than one occasion being told to ‘go home’ by sceptical village elders. However, through regular dialogue, things have begun to change – “now people are starting to see the benefits of working with us, and many recognise the importance of protecting the forest.” How did this change come about? Taji identifies two essential keys to unlocking community buy-in and the positive impacts it can bring to landscape protection: 

1. Offering practical solutions: “We cannot just tell people to stop (destructive practices). We have to offer something else—something that still gives them a reliable income.”
2. Building on local knowledge: “We don’t offer something completely new; instead, we learn from what already works in the community and then work with them to scale it up.”

About PAHAM

Implemented by SUAR, the PAHAM programme is a long-term, community-based forest management initiative operating across three villages in West Kalimantan: Balai Agas, Nusa Kenyikap and Piawas. Located in a critical buffer zone within a 50-km radius of nearby palm oil mills, the project’s primary objective is to strengthen community capacity for forest management and reduce deforestation through a combination of monitoring, enforcement and awareness, but also by developing livelihood opportunities in local communities that can reduce pressure on the region’s remaining forests.

SUAR signed an MoU with Lestari Capital in 2020, which led to the creation of the PAHAM project; the name itself is a portmanteau of the Indonesian definition for community-based forest management (Pengelolaan Hutan Berbasis Masyarakat). Paham also means ‘understanding’ in Indonesian, but its social resonance goes deeper, touching on themes of empathy, accountability and alignment with social norms. The project name, like the work itself, is interwoven with the social fabric of communities in West Kalimantan.

By establishing and strengthening village forest institutions (Lembaga Pengelola Hutan Desa, or LPHD), implementing community-led patrol systems, monitoring biodiversity and establishing (and enforcing) forest protection boundaries, SUAR has committed to a number of objectives:

• 10,377 hectares of forest conserved and restored
• >900 community members supported by vocational training 
• 159 people with improved access to healthcare
• > 550 people benefiting from improved income via livelihood programmes
• 27 endangered species protected

Gotong Royong: Collective Action for the Common Good

Throughout Indonesia, the term gotong royong comes up again and again in conversation—especially in rural communities. Essentially it means ‘collective action for the common good’. For remote communities working beyond the reach of centralised legal enforcement, a shared belief in altruism, responsibility and reciprocity provides a framework for social life; it can be seen in everything from the construction of new buildings to the organisation of events and ceremonies and the formulation of new rules and regulations. As Pak Jaga remarked during our interview, “whether there is a festival or a funeral, people will come from miles around to help out with whatever needs to be done—they don’t need to be invited and don’t expect to be paid; it’s just who we are.”

How does this relate to community-led conservation? From the perspective of the community themselves, gotong royong can often be a more powerful, more sustainable motivator than financial incentives. Heri Riawan is the Livelihoods Coordinator at SUAR. He believes the Rimba Collective can harness this ethos in its ongoing conservation efforts. “Gotong royong is extraordinary social capital,” he explains. “Even if financial support is strong, without community buy-in and an agreed course of collective action, investments will be wasted.” In this context, the limitations of CSR and grants-based funding become clear; by comparison, development that comes from within the community has a far better chance of taking root.

With its emphasis on co-creation and community-led implementation, the Rimba Collective taps into the spirit of gotong royong like a knife into rubber; carving a path that values collaboration over contribution, where deeply held commitments to nature, and personal obligations to one’s neighbours, are worth their weight in gold.