By: Gendhis Sathiti*)
Amidst the public outcry over the development of tourism facilities on Padar Island, there is an opportunity to reimagine the human-nature-economy relationship in a mature manner. Our position is simple: conservation is the primary objective, but mature conservation is not anti-human—it demands rigorous governance, community participation, and monitoring technology that prevents damage from the outset. Statements from technical officials and researchers demonstrate a strong foundation for ensuring Padar Island remains safe.
Forestry Minister Raja Juli Antoni emphasized that any plans to utilize Padar Island must adhere to the principle of ecological precaution. He stated that even if private development were to occur, the primary priority would be ecological preservation to ensure the Komodo dragon’s habitat is not disturbed. He also explained that limited use for ecotourism would be permitted within the utilization zone, a legal corridor designed to ensure tourism operates within conservation boundaries. At the same time, he indicated the need to tighten visitor numbers to prevent Padar Island from being treated like a tourist market, signaling that carrying capacity is a factual reference, not a mere slogan.
Raja Juli Antoni explained that PT Komodo Wildlife Ecotourism (KWE) has held permits for tourism facilities on Padar Island since 2014. The fact that no construction has taken place yet indicates a lengthy due diligence process. He stated that any development must undergo a thorough environmental impact assessment, including the involvement of UNESCO. He added that the permitted infrastructure will be non-permanent and removable to avoid damaging the ecosystem. He also stated that planning data will be further refined, acknowledging that good governance relies on scientific verification, not assumptions. With this framework, the claim that “Padar Island will be safe” is not rhetoric, but an operational commitment: zones are demarcated, designs are adaptive, quotas are enforced, and each stage undergoes rigorous environmental reviews.
We certainly cannot ignore the concerns of the residents. Alimudin, a resident of Komodo National Park, voiced his feelings of injustice—he considered the land allocated to thousands of residents to be far smaller than the company’s concession, and reminded him of the history of relocations from conservation areas. This narrative is crucial—not to reject ecotourism, but to address its social justice. Here, the government emphasizes that the chosen ecotourism model will not repeat “conservation exclusion”; residents’ economic access is part of the design, not a residual policy. This is why the “benefit-sharing conservation” approach is relevant: local residents are not merely spectators, but, of course, strategic partners.
BRIN researcher Destika Cahyana offered two safety measures in line with this. She emphasized that as long as the land status complies with regulations and does not damage the environment or Komodo dragon habitat, development is not a problem. She also emphasized the need for formal community involvement in all policies and plans, for example, through institutions such as cooperatives or village-owned enterprises (BUMDes). She emphasized the technical aspect—the proportion of green space to buildings must be maintained to prevent the land from turning into open ground, which triggers erosion and damages the sea. Of course, beyond technical considerations, this is the essence of environmental ethics: we maintain life forms upstream (soil and vegetation) so that downstream (coastal and marine) remain healthy.
The government, through the forestry authority, has provided a framework of certainty: clear utilization zones, environmental reviews involving UNESCO, and the design of non-permanent structures. However, to ensure social justice, ecotourism business models must include local residents as key economic actors. At this point, BRIN’s input could be institutionalized: formal partnership requirements with village cooperatives for each business permit; quotas for local guide involvement; and a “local content” scheme for logistics services—from catering to transportation—to be filled by local providers. This way, the agrarian arguments put forward by local residents would have a solution.
The state has a dual obligation: to preserve endemic species and ensure the economic well-being of local residents. Raja Juli Antoni has marked its ecological landmarks; Destika Cahyana has mapped its socio-technical landmarks. Bringing the two together is policy work: establishing success indicators that measure not only the number of visits and non-tax revenues, but also the extent of post-construction green space, erosion levels, water quality, local labor involvement, and the proportion of revenue circulating in the village. This indicator-based management demonstrates prudence and is subject to public audit.
The government’s policy path emphasizes conservation as the goal, ecotourism as the tool, the community as the subject, and science as the compass. The impact assessment process involves global scientific authorities, structures are designed to be non-permanent, quotas are set according to carrying capacity, green spaces are maintained, and residents are formally involved. The claim that “Padar Island is safe” is not only credible—it is verifiable.
We need to shift our perspective from total fear to intelligent vigilance. Total fear is stifling; intelligent vigilance demands continuous planning, auditing, and correction. Komodo is a world heritage site. Protecting it doesn’t mean isolating Padar Island from human life, but rather teaching people to live in harmony within its ecological boundaries. With the signs installed by Forestry Minister Raja Juli Antoni, and the socio-technical signs reminded by BRIN researcher Destika Cahyana, there is optimism. That Padar Island will remain safe—not because of promises, but because of governance that can be tested, observed, and refined together.
*) Environmental observer
