Downloaded from UvA-DARE, the institutional repository of the University of Amsterdam (UvA)

http://hdl.handle.net/11245/2.106139

File ID uvapub:106139
Filename 337882.pdf
Version final

SOURCE (OR PART OF THE FOLLOWING SOURCE):

Type article
Title Against 'green development fantasies': resource degradation and the
lack of community resistance in the middle Mahakam wetlands, East
Kalimantan, Indonesia
Author(s) G. Nooteboom, E. B .P. de Jong
Faculty FMG: Amsterdam Institute for Social Science Research (AISSR)
Year 2010

FULL BIBLIOGRAPHIC DETAILS:

http://hdl.handle.net/11245/1.337882

Copyright

It is not permitted to download or to forward/distribute the text or part of it without the consent of the author(s) and/or
copyright holder(s), other than for strictly personal, individual use, unless the work is under an open content licence (like
Creative Commons).

UvA-DARE is a service provided by the library of the University of Amsterdam (http://dare.uva.nl)

(pagedate: 2014-11-20)
 Asian Journal of Social Science 38 (2010) 258–278 brill.nl/ajss

Against ‘Green Development Fantasies’:

Resource Degradation and the Lack of Community
Resistance in the Middle Mahakam Wetlands,
East Kalimantan, Indonesia

Gerben Nooteboom and Edwin B.P. de Jong1

University of Amsterdam and Radboud University Nijmegen

Abstract
In the middle Mahakam wetlands, East Kalimantan, local populations are hit hard by ecological
deterioration in the form of degraded water quality, floods, depletion of fish stocks, and increas-
ing sedimentation and aquatic weeds. In the short term, resources such as fish and wood are
being depleted, while unpredictable floods and droughts cause insecurities and lengthy periods
without earnings. In the longer term, resource depletion and water pollution threaten villagers’
health. Some of these environmental problems are produced by the fishing communities them-
selves but most are caused by outside actors, such as logging and mining companies and oil
palm plantations. This article raises the question of why local fishing communities do not resist
against outside actors and seeks to explain why they are unable to protect and manage their
environment in a sustainable way. It challenges ‘green development fantasies’ and optimistic
approaches which put primary faith in the capacity of local communities to manage their
resources. We show instead that local communities are often unable to challenge and resist envi-
ronmental changes. We explain this out of a lack of: (1) a clear enemy or a clear focus of opposi-
tion; (2) a single and relatively homogeneous community or shared ethnic identity; (3) strong
leadership; and (4) the involvement of brokers with the outside world. In this article, optimistic
ideas about the ability of local communities to benefit from, or protect, their ‘locality of value’
are seriously challenged.

Keywords
resource degradation, conservation, fishing communities, resistance (lack of ), indigenous knowl-
edge, natural resource management, East Kalimantan, Indonesia

1
The article is based on research funded by NWO/ALV (Netherlands Organisation for Sci-
entific Research/Earth and Life Sciences) and carried out in cooperation with the Research Cen-
tre for Environmental Studies (PPLH), Mulawarman University, Samarinda, Indonesia between
2005 and 2008.
© Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, 2010 DOI: 10.1163/156853110X490935
 G. Nooteboom, E. B. P. de Jong / Asian Journal of Social Science 38 (2010) 258–278 259

The middle Mahakam lake area constitutes East Kalimantan’s largest freshwa-
ter system and is one of Borneo’s major wetland areas.2 Over recent decades,
vast ecological, social and demographic changes have taken place in this region.
Surrounding forests have been felled, lakes are silting up, roads have been
built, new migrants have settled, population figures have tripled and, in the
last decade, open coal pits and oil palm plantations have been established on
a large scale.
These changes have placed intense pressures on the environment, and they
threaten aquatic-dependent livelihoods and the lifestyles of people who have
been living in the area for generations. Many of the lake and fishing people
are, or perceive themselves to be, negatively affected by the changes taking
place. They fear for their future, their health and their livelihoods. Although
fear, resentment and dissatisfaction are widespread among fishing communi-
ties, their voices are not heard in the conservationist debates and largely
ignored in governance plans for the area. In contrast to more land-based
Dayak villages, the fishing populations neither protest loudly, nor actively
cooperate in the protection, co-management and sustainable development of
the area. Why is this so? Why do fishing communities not resist, not try to
influence resource management, nor protest against environmental depletion
and degradation when compared to other groups in East Kalimantan?
This article explores some of the paradoxes and ambiguities of ecological
degradation and sustainable resource management from the perspective of
local fishing communities in the middle Mahakam lake area of East Kaliman-
tan. The interests and stakes of the actors involved are ambiguous as economic
gains and conservation concerns oscillate. It is one of the many areas in the
world where environmental and economic agendas clash. Battles over eco-
nomic development and environmental protection are fought out in an arena
of multiple actors and institutions.
The locality is of great economic value to national and international mining
and palm oil companies who are exploiting the region’s natural resources with
government support. According to nature conservationists and biodiversity
specialists, the area is of prime ecological value due to its unique features, such
as shallow lakes, freshwater swamps and mangrove forests, and the existence of
rare and endangered species, including monkeys, reptiles and the endangered
freshwater Irrawaddy dolphin (Tas’an et al., 1980; Global Nature Fund, 2007).

2
The area comprises almost 40 large and smaller lakes. The major lakes are Lake Jempang
(about 15,000 ha), Lake Melintang (11,000 ha) and Lake Semayang (13,000 ha). The lake area
is crossed by the Mahakam river, one of the largest rivers of Indonesia, and forms an important
water catchment and control system for the natural regulation of this river (Suryadiputra,
2001).
260 G. Nooteboom, E. B. P. de Jong / Asian Journal of Social Science 38 (2010) 258–278

Various local and international environmental protection groups, such as

World Wildlife Fund for Nature (WWF), Living Lakes, and Wetlands Inter-
national, are attempting to conserve nature in various ways. Not surprisingly,
public debates in the area centre around questions of economic development,
nature conservation and livelihood-protection of the poor. These debates are
highly politicised and result in differential images of the area that primarily
reflect the interests of the organisations involved: fisheries, forestry, develop-
ment, environmental protection and cultural diversity.3
Among all these voices, tens of thousands of families, their voices largely
unheard, are dependent on the lakes’ aquatic resources for their livelihoods
and for maintaining their unique social-cultural way of life. From an eco-
nomic point of view, “These lakes and swamps are very important fish-spawn-
ing grounds and replenish the main river seasonally. Therefore, the middle
Mahakam lake area is an area of intensive fishing activity with an annual catch
of 25,000 to 35,000 metric tons since 1970” (Global Nature Fund, 2007).
Fishing villages, with their floating houses and houses raised on stilts, are
marked out by their specific wetland and freshwater fishing culture. However,
because protection schemes and conservation programmes remain limited, the
ecological system and the related way of life of the fishing communities, are
severely threatened.4
To understand the lack of cooperation, resistance and environmental pro-
tection from the perspective of local people, we present a study of the village
of Muara Ohong (see Figure 1). This village is typical of fishing communities
in the region and reveals the dimensions that determine these communities’
involvement in resource management. First, we look at the perceptions and
interpretations of the changing environment and resource use. Secondly, we
analyse conflicting interests and the influence of degradation on livelihoods.
Finally, we deal with leadership and the lack of cohesion and shared identity,
in an attempt to understand the lack (and limitations) of collective action.
Attention to these processes is crucial if we are to understand why local com-
munities are often unsuccessful in managing local resources.

3
For examples of studies published on the area, see: Christensen et al., 1986; Saanin, 1987;
Evers and Gerke, 1992; Mulawarman, 1993; Lukman and Haryani, 1996; Gönner, 2000, 2002;
Suryadiputra, 2001; Casson and Obidzinski, 2002; Rasi, 2005; Sumaryono, 2005; Syachraini
et al., 2005.
4
This is a result of sedimentation (Hardwinarto, n.d.[2006]), decreasing water quality, increas-
ing weeds, invasive fish species and annual fluctuations with decreasing predictability in water
levels.
 G. Nooteboom, E. B. P. de Jong / Asian Journal of Social Science 38 (2010) 258–278 261

Figure 1: Jempang lake (danau Jempang). Coal mining activities take place at the
south-west side of the Ohong River and newly-developed plantation areas are
depicted upstream the Ohong River. The map is produced by PPLH-UNMUL. The
village of Ohong should have been depicted at the mouth of the Ohong River.

However, before introducing the local study on which this chapter is based,
we outline contrasting images about the role that local communities are con-
sidered to play in sustainable resource management.

Paradoxes of Protection: Green vs. Destructive Development Fantasies5

In studies of resource degradation and protection, local communities are often
presented as knowledgeable and able to negotiate access to, and control over,
resources by using their ethnicity in a strategic way.6 They are believed to have

5
The term green development fantasies has been borrowed from Tsing (1999).
6
See, for instance, F. and K. von Benda-Beckmann, Bakker and Moniaga, Schippers, and
Acciaioli this issue.
262 G. Nooteboom, E. B. P. de Jong / Asian Journal of Social Science 38 (2010) 258–278

a thorough knowledge of the environment and to be capable of its protection.

Indigenousness can be used as a resource in the fight against outside forces
such as the state and large companies. A well-known example of such a suc-
cessful struggle is Lake Lindu in Sulawesi as described by Acciaioli (2010) and
by Li (2000, 2007).
At Lake Lindu, local communities successfully opposed the Lake Lindu
Dam Project and regenerated local resource management of the depleted lake
by strategically using their ethnicity, or the ‘tribal slot’ as Li calls it (2000:149).
By using the tribal slot, they were able to execute agency and create room to
manoeuvre vis-à-vis dominant state policies of Suharto’s New Order rule. Cru-
cial in this process was ethnic mobilisation, the use of adat law, and the coop-
eration of the Lindu people with urban activists (Li, 2000:169−173). Similar
success stories of indigenous people in Kalimantan, who were knowledgeable
on resource management and successfully used their indigenous identity, are
described by Peluso (1995), Peluso and Harwell (2001), Tsing (1999), Sellato
(2002) and Bakker (2008, 2009).
However, we would argue that the successes of local communities in
resource management tend to be overvalued or even romanticised in the
literature, and images of indigenous peoples being good at nature conserva-
tion have been flawed and may be counterproductive. In Kalimantan this
became painfully clear in the community forest management experiments of
the early 2000s — whereby indigenous communities were allotted rights to
their forests — which turned out a total failure. Community forestry did not
lead to better forest management. On the contrary, logging rates increased
(Obidzinski, 2005:201).
In the social science literature, and among NGOs and advocacy groups, we
discern a bias towards successful cases of resource management; less successful
cases remain under-exposed. A weakness in the analyses is that communities
are often viewed as homogeneous, harmonious, united against a common
enemy, and interested in maintaining their resource base. The proposed suc-
cesses are relative, and using the ‘tribal slot’ is never free of risk and uncertainty
(Li, 2000:149−150).
In a similar line of thought, legal anthropologists and social scientists con-
sider legal insecurity and legal pluralism as an asset for local communities. In
this understanding, the law is seen as a resource (e.g., F. and K. von Benda-
Beckmann (2010), Bakker and Moniaga (2010), and Acciaioli (2010)). Much
attention has been paid to how legal ambiguity and legal pluralism (the co-
existence of different normative frameworks or systems of law, including state
law, religious law, and adat law) can provide opportunities for local groups. In
such systems, local people can fight the government or companies by claiming
 G. Nooteboom, E. B. P. de Jong / Asian Journal of Social Science 38 (2010) 258–278 263

rights according to alternative law systems. Moreover, these claims are often
recognised as successful, especially when identities are clear, adat law systems
are recognised and documented, and protests are well-organised (for examples
in East Kalimantan, see Bakker, 2009, De Jonge and Nooteboom, 2006,
Nooteboom, 2005). In this perspective, scholars focus on the potency of
bending and modifying laws to the advantage of protest groups.
It is just as likely, however, that local communities are not successful in
protecting their resource base, or fail to get access to a significant portion of
the profits generated. In many cases, moreover, the tribal slot is not used or
not effective. In the case of the Meratus Mountains, as described by Tsing
(1999), only a few villages and people within these villages were able to ben-
efit from government attention, NGO projects and eco-tourism. The majority
of local groups and villages were not very successful and protests subsided
under pressure from companies and state interests. Most of these unsuccessful
village communities remain invisible to outside observers as they lack proper
documentation, a clear and shared understanding of the problems at stake,
countervailing powers, visionary leaders, and advocates such as journalists or
scholars who might act as brokers of power and knowledge.
An opposite bias is also seen in the so-called destruction fantasies. In Indo-
nesian policy circles, local farmers and poor people are often depicted, when it
comes to resource management, as ignorant, polluting, destructive and exploit-
ative. An example is the forest fires in Sumatra and Kalimantan in 1996–1997,
when slash-and-burn farmers were blamed for causing the fires. Several stud-
ies, summarised in McCarthy (2000:111−114), showed that most fires did
not occur in the vicinities of local settlements, but in the concession areas of
large logging companies and that they were often the result of their logging
activities. Blaming the poor for causing environmental problems is a general
response from elites and policymakers in Indonesia. Tsing (1999) notes situa-
tions in which “regional authorities routinely blame villagers for their igno-
rance, bad habits, and lack of initiative” (ibid.:179).
During our interviews in the period 2003−2007, regional elites, policymak-
ers and regional planners blamed poor people for being ignorant of moderni-
sation (belum terima), lacking aspirations (kurang aspirasi) and lacking a proper
understanding of the problem (bulum mengerti). In so-called sosialisasi pro-
grammes, short trips to villages are organised during which local people are
acquainted with progress and development through short chats, joint lunches
and speeches. In these voyeuristic safari desa, villagers are stimulated to under-
stand, adopt and support the perspective of the planners or the NGOs
involved. These narratives reflect the inequality in these programmes. Few
attempts to understand local ideas and ways of thinking can be found. This is
264 G. Nooteboom, E. B. P. de Jong / Asian Journal of Social Science 38 (2010) 258–278

nothing new. Dove and Kammen (2001) describe and analyse this ‘arrogance
of authority’ in detail in terms of the implicit ideology of New Order Indone-
sia in which local cultures were seen as obstacles to development.
In both perspectives mentioned above — one overvaluing and the other
under-estimating local people’s capacity to act in their own interests and those
of the environment — communities are often assumed to be homogeneous
entities. In reality, communities are neither harmonious, nor egalitarian, and
in the Mahakam lake area this is especially true as migration produced ethni-
cally diverse communities.
Based on the successful cases described above, the factors that promote sus-
tainable resource management and protest can be summarised as follows:
(1) a shared definition and understanding of the problem and thus a clear
enemy or a clear focus of opposition (dams, government, another specific eth-
nic group, a company, etc.); (2) a single and relatively homogeneous ethnic
community or a strong and widely-shared ethnic identity (e.g., the pan-Dayak
identity); (3) the presence of strong leadership (who are often powerbrokers
themselves); and (4) the involvement of NGOs, scholars or journalists who
give the necessary social and cultural capital, legitimacy, exposure and/or rec-
ognition to the outside world.

The Setting
For hundreds of years, Kutai-Malay people have populated small villages along
the larger rivers and lakes in the north-eastern lower areas of the middle
Mahakam lakes and rivers, while Dayak communities could be found in the
somewhat higher areas and along inland creeks and rivers. In general, these
groups are well represented at district and provincial levels through effective
bonds of political representation and ethnic organisation. Since the early
1900s, small numbers of Banjarese migrants from South Kalimantan and
Buginese migrants from South Sulawesi have been settling in the central,
southern and western lake areas and this trend continues until today. While
large numbers of Javanese have been settled elsewhere in East Kalimantan
under the massive transmigration programmes of the early 1980s, few are to
be found in the lakeside and riverside villages.
The village of Muara Ohong7 is located at the western end of Lake Jempang
and was founded by Banjarese who came from South Kalimantan to work and
live as fishermen about three generations ago. At first, they mostly fished for

7
Locally, Muara Ohong is often abbreviated to Ohong. In the rest of the article, we simply
refer to Ohong as the name of the village.
 G. Nooteboom, E. B. P. de Jong / Asian Journal of Social Science 38 (2010) 258–278 265

subsistence purposes but, after the opening up of the area in the early 1970s,
they increasingly fished commercially. Since then, new groups of poorer kin-
folk have arrived in search of better fishing grounds. The families of first-gen-
eration settlers live in the ‘high part’ (hulu) of the village, while ‘newcomers’
reside in the ‘low part’ (ilir). In the high part, the large wooden houses are
built on stilts. Here the wealthy traders, shops and other village facilities of
Ohong are to be found. The low part consists mostly of floating houses (rumah
rakit) where new migrants, as well as outlaws, live. This part lacks facilities,
such as wooden roads to connect the houses, and a proper mosque. Today, the
people of Ohong produce fish for the growing urban markets of Kalimantan
and dried fish for export to Java.
Recently, the occurrence of floods and dry periods have become increas-
ingly unpredictable, and floods tend to be higher than in the past. Further, the
lakes are becoming clogged with weeds and sediment, the water quality is
deteriorating, over-fishing is rampant and mining activity, as well as the estab-
lishment of oil palm plantations, in the surrounding area further threaten the
general quality and safety of the water. These dramatic changes in the aquatic
system have been partly caused by large-scale deforestation (Jepson et al.,
2001; Curran et al., 2004); changing land use, such as the new oil palm planta-
tions; road construction and agriculture; and mining and pollution (Demmu,
2002). Especially, the massive and largely illegal logging in Kalimantan (Cas-
son and Obidzinski, 2002; Curran et al., 2004), and the over-fishing and
increasing population pressure, are having irreversible effects on the large
aquatic systems of the middle Mahakam Lake basin and elsewhere (Chokka-
lingam et al., 2004; Sumaryono, 2005; Syachraini et al., 2005).
Besides physical and hydrological changes, chemical changes are also taking
place. Water quality is decreasing due to soil erosion following logging and the
lake ecology is changing into swamp conditions.8 The runoff waste from coal
mines in the area (most prominently acid debris and coal residues from the
open pits) and pollution from the large palm oil plantations recently estab-
lished in the area (pesticides and fertilisers) further add to the deterioration.
All the economic activities in the area seem to use the rivers, lakes and swamps
for waste disposal.

8
The increase in weeds and decaying organic matter increases the acidity of the lake (low
pH), which leads to a change in fish species from ‘white fish’ to swamp fish (reported in an
interview with the head of fisheries at the Tenggarong field department, 2007).
266 G. Nooteboom, E. B. P. de Jong / Asian Journal of Social Science 38 (2010) 258–278

Perceptions and Interpretations of a Changing Environment

To understand the livelihood strategies and potential for cooperation or resis-
tance of people in these unstable settings, we studied the extent to which
people in water-dependent communities perceive the signs and effects of water
ecology change and ecological degradation, how they interpret these signs,
how they think their livelihoods are affected, and how they cope with visible
and imagined negative effects on their livelihoods. Two assumptions are cru-
cial in this approach: interpretations largely shape reactions and behaviour on
ecological changes; and not all responses and interpretations necessarily match
with the ‘reality’, i.e., the ongoing physical changes.
Members of indigenous communities, such as fishing and farming com-
munities, generally notice both minor and major signs of climate change and
are able to clearly point to the effects of changes in aquatic systems. Their
experience of, dependency on, and daily interaction with, the local environ-
ment makes them ecological experts able to produce detailed accounts of envi-
ronmental change and degradation (Scoones and Thompson, 1994). Although
based on life-long experience, such forms of local and indigenous knowledge
are seldom precise, systematically gathered, quantified or comparable, and
remain rather anecdotic (Leach and Fairhead, 2000; Leach et al., 1999). Not-
withstanding these limitations, such local and indigenous accounts are impor-
tant as they reflect perceptions of aquatic degradation and express indigenous
interpretations of and concerns about water quantity and quality. These inter-
pretations are rooted in indigenous knowledge systems, but are also influenced
by regional, national and international discourses (Leach et al., 1999). Local
concepts of water quality and quantity, degradation, causes and remedies do
not necessarily reflect the ‘truth’ about ecological change or pollution. Instead
they are strong forces that structure people’s actions and offer important keys
to understanding local community reactions and adaptation to water ecology
changes, their capability to adapt to changes and the grounds for resistance.
The most striking changes mentioned by the people of Ohong are the
increased number of floods and the decrease in their predictability, closely fol-
lowed by a decline in the number of fish species, the amount of fish caught
and a declining water quality. A systematic survey carried out among the vil-
lagers shows that the inhabitants were very negative (76%) about the water
quality, but opinions about the causes differed markedly. The water is very
acid, akin to swamp conditions, with very low oxygen levels. When asked
about the reasons for these changes, many villagers tent to blame the mining
companies and plantation enterprises, though over a third does not know why
these changes occur or they refer to Allah as the source and cause of climatic
changes. A few mention the forest fires of the past. A quarter of the villagers
 G. Nooteboom, E. B. P. de Jong / Asian Journal of Social Science 38 (2010) 258–278 267

mention logging activities in the river’s watershed. All these are outside causes,
very few villagers mention activities of villagers themselves.
Fishermen, fish-processing women and traders were able to clearly indicate
which species of fish were caught at which time of the year over the last
decades. After analysing their accounts, a gradual shift can be observed in the
number of fish species over the past decade. The change has been from fish
with high value to fish of lower value, and also from fish that live in pH-neu-
tral waters to those typical of swamp environments. Many villagers mentioned
species which they had caught in the past but which had disappeare, and also
that fish were now smaller. Nearly two-thirds of the villagers (60%) men-
tioned this decrease in quality and market value of fish catches.
The only exception to this pattern is the toman, a predatory fish originally
found in the Barito River (South Kalimantan). It is a popular fish among
Banjarese with a high market value in Banjarmasin. Originally, it was intro-
duced in the Mahakam area to be reared in fish cages but soon escaped and
multiplied in the lakes and rivers of the middle Mahakam area.9 The predatory
toman competes strongly with other fish. Fishermen recall catching toman
only since the late 1990s.
With respect to health, almost half of the villagers in Ohong mentioned an
increase in waterborne diseases, such as diarrhoea and vomiting (muntabeer),
and in skin diseases (Holle, 2009). Perceptions of water quality are closely
related to its colour. “Sometimes the water is milky, at other moments, it is
totally clear. Prior to the mines, the water never had these colours,” was a
typical remark. In more than half of the comments, the Ohong villagers
blamed the coal pits upstream as the cause of the changes in water colour and
quality: “They release poisonous waste in the water; it makes us ill.” Someone
else added: “You can see it when they release waste, they mix lime with the
water to hide it and the colour goes milky and then clear.” A few mentioned
the acidity of the water, including a former member of the village administra-
tion: “Due to government regulations, they need to reduce the poisonous
acids in the waste. They do that with lime. I have seen it myself.”
An important finding from our own water quality measurements in Ohong
is that most of the values recorded were not directly dangerous for people
although the water was very acid. The perceptions of danger however do seem
to be stronger than the actual physical risk. People are getting ill, but probably
due to other reasons than only by drinking or bathing in the water.

9
A persistent rumour is that a Banjarese Haji from Jantur, who is a well-known trader from
South Kalimantan, released toman on purpose into Lake Jempang. He supposedly said that he
sought to increase the production and catches of this expensive fish to improve his trading
opportunities in South Kalimantan.
268 G. Nooteboom, E. B. P. de Jong / Asian Journal of Social Science 38 (2010) 258–278

Local knowledge about the changes taking place is very detailed and con-
crete as it is based on daily interactions. Villagers showed much more uncer-
tainty and confusion about the causes of these changes. Increasingly, mining
companies and plantation enterprises are blamed as the actors causing the
perceived decline in water quality and the depletion of valuable fish.
In our survey, we asked the villagers systematically two questions about
future perspectives: (1) What would you do for a living if fishing and farming
were no longer possible; and (2) what do you hope that your children will do
for a living in the future? To the first question, 43% answered that they still
wanted to be fishermen/women. A typical comment by both men and women
was: “We know nothing else; we are not able to do anything else.” Others said:
“If the fish here are gone, we will follow the fish and move somewhere else.” In
these answers, fatalistic expressions dominated and again, no relationship with
fishing and resource exploitation by the community itself was suggested.

Conflicting Interests and Differentiation in Adaption

The lake is getting shallower, the villagers say. Especially in and along the
trenches in the lake-bed and major transportation routes, villagers observe
increasing sedimentation and experience difficulties with transportation.
However, explanations differ: “It’s the propellers of the boats which make the
water messy,” “Too many boats create mud,” or “The mud sticks to the roots
of the water hyacinth, these plants make the bottom rise.” Some of these
explanations are rather fanciful and speculative, whilst others suggest precise
knowledge: “The river bank used to be steep, now it is flat; it has risen half a
metre in 25 years.” Someone who had been able to walk freely under his house
when he built it observed that, “Nowadays this is impossible. I am sure the soil
has risen more than 60cm in 30 years.” Another person explained: “I used to
put my fish traps in the northern corner of the lake, but now the place is shal-
low and weeds cover everything. In the last five to seven years, I can only use
these traps in further away areas and during high water.”
While narratives on silting concur concerning increasing sedimentation,
the explanations again differ: “It is the river that brought the mud,” some say.
Other explanations include: “It’s due to the weeds,” “The floating weeds clog
the lake and prevent the fine mud from flowing away,” “Nowadays, there is
not enough water in the lake,” “People upstream throw too much rubbish in
the river,” and “It’s because the forest is gone.” In response to the lake becom-
ing shallow, villagers fish further away, use smaller boats when the water is low,
build houses on taller stilts, and plant rice on the banks of the grooves in the
 G. Nooteboom, E. B. P. de Jong / Asian Journal of Social Science 38 (2010) 258–278 269

lake bed during dry periods. Nobody seems to acknowledge that, if sedimen-
tation continues at the same speed, the lake will be clogged up within one
generation.
Some of the negative changes may produce some positive side-effects: If the
water remains low for three months, large rice yields can be harvested from the
fertile mud plains. In the past, rice was never planted in the lake area but, since
the end of the 1990s, an increasing number of Ohong villagers have been suc-
cessful in their attempts at rice growing. In 2005, almost half the villagers
planted rice and achieved high yields but, in 2006 and 2007, the harvests
failed due to ‘early’ floods.
The decreasing predictability of floods makes lake agriculture a risky endea-
vour. Villagers cannot rely on it and only the middle-income households can
invest substantial capital and labour in rice production. Rice yields are seen as
windfall profits, not as a potential livelihood option for the future: “We are
fishermen, we don’t know how to farm.”
Interestingly, new land rights are developing in areas where they never
existed before. The lake-bed is increasingly claimed by villagers and outsiders
as well. When flooded, the lake is open to everybody, even to fishermen from
neighbouring lakes but, when dry, private land use rights take over. Although
formally no land rights can be claimed in the lake area, the village head now
gives out parcels of land to villagers, relatives and friends. They mark their
plots using small poles of ironwood (ulin). Over the years, the rights to these
parcels remain in the hands of the same households. The families who first
started to till the land have the best plots close to the village. Once tilled, the
same family can return to that field the following year or two years later. New-
comers and immigrants get fields further away. In the past couple of years,
disputes have emerged around village borders in the lake area due to these
fertile mud plains.
Increased resource competition has inspired village communities to demar-
cate village land and to prevent outside fishermen from fishing in their areas
when the water is high. Outsiders’ use of large motorised fishing boats is pro-
hibited but not, generally, their placing large nets which is difficult to control
anyway. When water-filled, the lake is typically a common pool resource with
open access, almost impossible to govern by a single community. When dry,
individual land rights develop around each village at the lake.
Unlike the Lake Lindu case, as described by Acciaioli in this issue, no return
to common property regimes take place. If debated at all, there is widespread
confusion on adat laws and regulations as no clear adat is available and
the multiple ethnic immigrant groups will never accept either the adat of
the Kutai or Dayak minorities or any other migrant group. Theories on the
270 G. Nooteboom, E. B. P. de Jong / Asian Journal of Social Science 38 (2010) 258–278

‘tragedy of the commons’, therefore, do not fully apply to this situation as

multiple outside forces are also responsible for the conditions in the lake
area (through the run-off into the lake) and local communities dependent on
lake resources are unable to exert much influence on these outside forces. In
response to falling catches, villagers use larger nets, faster engines and more
fish cages. Over the last decade, the number of fish cages in Ohong has tripled.
The availability of affordable boats and engines has enabled villagers who fish
with traditional gear such as bamboo traps to increase their number of traps.
As one villager explained: “The price for wet fish [fish that are still alive]
has gone up, so it is profitable to fish with traps.” Many invest in cages made
from wire; those who are really rich invest in larger nets. In confidential
moments, villagers would grumble: “It is the haji who take all the fish. They
can invest in large nets and modern equipment. They take all the fish and
nothing is left for us.”
Up to about five to eight years ago, two sets of 50m fishing nets would be
sufficient to catch the same amount of fish that is now is caught with ten sets.
Fishermen say they now spend about three times longer fishing than they used
to do and that they need to invest in faster and larger boats to be able to reach
the more remote places. The village poor can no longer compete as they are
unable to buy nets and bigger engines. According to a survey among the shop-
keepers in the village, spending in the village is decreasing due to a decline in
net incomes while fuel prices have risen.
The depletion of fish stock is partly caused by the increase in fish cage usage.
Over the last two decades, villagers have been growing fish in cages in the
rivers and lakes. These cages can be found in front of virtually all houses.
Although only recently introduced and highly despised, toman is one of the
most important fish species in this caged production system since, sold alive,
it has a high value. Unfortunately, the toman need to eat young fish twice a
day. These small fish are usually caught in the lake. Indirectly, the toman cage
culture has led to severe overfishing as large numbers of fingerlings and small
fish are caught at an early stage. In response to fewer fish being caught, the
richer villagers and traders invest again in more advanced fishing gear.
This race to the bottom has increased the discrepancy between richer and
poorer villagers. Fishing families without the capital or labour to invest in
large numbers of traps, nets or boats experience difficulties in making ends
meet. Some have been employed by larger traders to process and pack the fish,
others turn to cutting and selling firewood, timber smuggling, catching rare
birds and animals in the swamps surrounding the lake, or to electro-fishing.
Almost all of the younger fishermen fish with illegal electric gear and,
although forbidden, the police almost never check for such equipment. There
 G. Nooteboom, E. B. P. de Jong / Asian Journal of Social Science 38 (2010) 258–278 271

is little to gain from arresting poor fishing folk and they would rather seek out
illegal timber transport. According to older villagers, the new migrants from
Banjarmasin introduced these fishing techniques, and the local youth soon
followed. In most cases, the equipment is leased from rich traders or fisher-
men, often haji, on the condition that the catch is sold to that specific trader,
and usually at a discounted price. In return, the traders give cash advances,
provide bride-wealth on credit and food loans during slack periods. Some of
the traders also run shops and sell rice and goods on credit.
Although most wood in the areas close to the lakes has long been logged,
the lake still serves as a smuggling route for high value wood. At night, logs are
transported over the lake to small sawmills downstream. One villager com-
mented when asked about the numbers of people caught: “We almost never
see police in these areas; we are too poor to take ‘fines’ from.”
Possibly, the best years for this frontier fishing community have passed.
Between 1973 and the early 1990s, fish resources were abundant in the area
and livelihoods were comfortable. Today, in Ohong, the depleted fish resources
lead to lower incomes. One of the shopkeepers estimated a 20% decline in
spending over the last three years: “In the past, children got Rp. 5,000 ($ 0.50)
to spend in the shop, now they receive less. People need to be careful and can
only afford to buy the absolute necessities. All money goes on petrol, because
the fish are hiding far away.” Among the established villagers, the newcomers
are often blamed for deleting fish stocks and using unsustainable fishing
practices, such as electro-fishing. In reality, both groups are almost equally
involved.
Regarding the future, we see a differentiation in adaptation strategies. Mid-
dle-income villagers invest in larger engines and nets, the richer villagers (trad-
ers, village officials, etc.) invest in land or buy a house elsewhere. Some of the
more wealthy traders have bought a few hectares of forest land to plant rubber
trees or oil palms: “When the fish are gone, I will move to my plantation, or
rent a space at the market in town. I am ready to leave Ohong if needed; I
know how to make money.” Such confidence is clearly lacking among the
poorer villagers who have few options.
In response to changing livelihood conditions, people commonly react by
diversification rather than protest. The people in Ohong are mixing fish spe-
cies in their cages, while the fishermen in villages with better water tend to
focus on the more financially productive toman. They explain their choice for
toman by referring to the better water quality, the absence of droughts and the
availability of fingerlings and small fish in the lake the whole year round.
Ohong fishermen and women on the other hand repeatedly mentioned
long periods of feed shortages: “We choose haruan (snakehead fish) which can
272 G. Nooteboom, E. B. P. de Jong / Asian Journal of Social Science 38 (2010) 258–278

survive in poor water and without food for some time. Toman need to be fed
constantly. We cannot afford such expensive species.” Moreover, haruan is
supposed to be among one of the fish species most resistant to pollution. Fish-
ermen in Ohong complain of skin disease (coreng) of their fish. The general
narrative is that this disease came about after the opening of the mine pit at
the Ohong River.10
The variations in perceptions on environmental change can be explained by
the range of possible explanations: The activities of large companies upstream
of the village; the success of Dayak villages upstream in claiming compensa-
tion from the mining company; the large number of fish deaths in the shallow
Ohong River during the dry season; the even larger depletion of fish stock in
the shallow Lake Jempang; increased population pressure; and, last but not
least, the greater exposure to researchers and environmentalists in the vicinity
of the Ohong River. Ohong has been increasingly exposed to researchers, ecol-
ogists and tourists who have shown primarily concern for the degradation of
the environment, not for the people. These visits have aroused concern among
local inhabitants. As one villager commented: “Why are all these people com-
ing, measuring the water, asking questions, carrying out health inspections;
surely something must be going wrong with the water?”
The rapid changes in the area, the decrease in fish, the opening of the mine,
and the questions of researchers and nature conservation NGO’s propelled
feelings of anxiety and insecurity. As a result, all ails, pains, and illnesses, both
of man and fish are attributed to the environmental destruction (Holle, 2009).
These anxieties could become a breeding ground for future protest even when
some of these perceived connections are rather ill perceived and imaginary.

Leadership, Cohesion and Shared Identity

The third aspect we considered in trying to understand the lack of resistance,
cooperation or countervailing power against resource depletion in the area is
the social, political and institutional dimension. The people of Ohong are not
well organised and do not have a sound political representation in the district
of West Kutai, which is dominated by Dayak and Buginese politicians. The
poorly-educated villagers have few fruitful connections with the outside world
and their migration networks consist only of poorer kinsmen. The few villag-
ers who do have good connections outside of the village, such as traders, vil-
lage notables and school teachers, tend to use these mostly for their own

10
Our survey, with questions on fish diseases, revealed that this disease must have been
present much earlier in the Middle Mahakam lakes.
 G. Nooteboom, E. B. P. de Jong / Asian Journal of Social Science 38 (2010) 258–278 273

benefit. Traders tend to conceal information on prices and new technology,

while village leaders might be bribed by outsiders to cooperate in the exploita-
tion of resources. During the 2006 provincial elections, the Ohong villagers
supported a Dayak Muslim candidate from nearby Tanjung Isuy who lost,
and so Ohong villages will be the last in line for any support from the district
government.
Moreover, the Banjarese from Ohong lack both horizontal and vertical eth-
nic relationships which can be used for lobbying. The area has no strong eth-
nic organisations and no central leaders. This is in sharp contrast with the
Dayak groups in the area and Buginese migrants. Both groups are well organ-
ised and provide influential political leaders at all levels. Further, the Banjarese
in the area have generally not been as exposed to the outside world as the
ethnic Dayak communities, who are seen as attractive to outside visitors, such
as tourists, anthropologists, biologists and journalists.
As a result of this relative isolation, local leaders are powerful brokers of
information and influence with the outside world. But they do not necessarily
use their contacts for the benefit of the community. Claiming compensation
has become big business. When the coalmine upstream the Ohong River
started to operate, debris floated down the river and huge numbers of the
caged fish died. Although it cannot be proven that the fish died because of
pollution from the mine, the villagers believe this to be the case. It was decided
that the heads of villages along the river and around Lake Jempang would
complain to the mine and seek compensation. According to the village heads,
no compensation was given, although the company promised to supply a
piped water system (Holle, 2009).
The mining company11 managed to play the village heads off against each
other, according to several sources. The upstream Dayak villages did receive
compensation for their villages while, according to rumours, the Jempang vil-
lage heads were paid ‘travelling money’ (uang jalan), a private sum. Once the
news of the payments to the Dayak villages had spread to Ohong village, the
Ohong people believed that the village head was paid but failed to distribute
anything among the villagers. There is no proof of what actually took place
but, a year after this event, the village head secretly bought a plot of land in
Melak, the district’s administrative town, and built a house. He also bought a
motorbike and it was unclear to the villagers how he earned the money to buy
it: “He almost never goes out fishing.” True or not, the rumours show that
trust in the village leadership is very low and villagers do not feel represented
by, or responsible to, their leaders.

11
P.T. Gunung Bayan Pratama Coal.
274 G. Nooteboom, E. B. P. de Jong / Asian Journal of Social Science 38 (2010) 258–278

Between Ohong and the other villages on Lake Jempang there is much
competition over leadership and borders, and between ethnic groups. There is
no sense of cooperation between the villages. On the contrary, villages try to
claim different parts of the lake as their territory and compete with each other
for access. From this we may conclude that there are no strong countervailing
powers among village communities against companies and the government, or
any horizontal cooperation to produce collective action to achieve any form of
communal resource management or possibly a form of green development.

Concluding Remarks

Confronted with the harsh reality of a changing and declining aquatic resource
base, local water-dependent communities are forced to change their livelihood
strategies. It would be wrong, however, to regard these communities as mere
victims of environmental destruction: They are also creative actors, actively
interpreting and altering their environment. Unlike most natural ecological
systems, human livelihoods are both exploitative and adaptive (Berkes and
Jolly, 2001) and should be seen as self-learning systems able to adapt to new
conditions and even ‘innovate’ in the process of establishing new livelihoods
(Chambers and Conway, 1992). This innovation can be positive, but also
individually or collectively destructive in the use of new exploitative tech-
niques as the case of Ohong shows. Moreover, the capabilities for adaptation
should not be overrated, since a shared definition and understanding of the
problem is lacking.
We started this article with a critique of positive accounts of the capabilities
of local communities in resource management and raised the question why
local fishing communities in the middle Mahakam lake region do not protest,
unite and oppose the mining and palm oil companies in the area, nor the
government who supports these activities, like the Dayak communities living
more upland. In presenting the case of Ohong, we suggested that there are
several reasons why local communities are not able to gain and maintain sus-
tainable control over resources.
First, the nature of the resource (a lake with open access) and the nature of
the problem (the unclear connections between changes and causes and the
negative effects of economic activities outside the lake area) make it difficult
for local villagers to identify a common problem and a common enemy. The
perceptions studied here reveal significant knowledge of micro-level changes.
Fishermen and farmers, both male and female, are able to indicate and some-
 G. Nooteboom, E. B. P. de Jong / Asian Journal of Social Science 38 (2010) 258–278 275

times even quantify detailed changes — though there are clear differences
between those who are living in the area since long and more recent migrants.
Although the observations based on daily livelihood interactions with the
natural environment were often sharp, detailed and consistent, they were,
however, generally weak in providing an explanation for the changes. Without
clarity and consensus on the causes of environmental changes, protest is not
likely to occur. For the people of Ohong, there is no clear enemy, nor a clear
focus of opposition. The livelihood changes are fluid, hard to explain, and
often paradoxical. The first criterion for protest, a common problem defini-
tion and a common enemy has therefore not been met.
The second criterion for protest, the existence or construction of a single
and shared identity and homogenous community is also not met. Unlike
Dayak and Kutai communities, the Banjarese of Ohong have little connection
with the outside world. They are not well organised and do not have any
indigenous organisations that fight for their interests. Moreover, they are
internally divided and have different interests. Speaking Banjar, they are clearly
traceable as immigrants from South Kalimantan. Other actors in the area,
both the district government as well as companies and environmental NGO’s,
perceive them as outsiders (orang luar) or immigrants (pendatang) without any
adat, even though they have lived in the area for generations. Their status as
‘newcomers’ makes it difficult for them to use adat law as a resource.
The third criterion, the presence of strong leadership and the existence of
strong brokers of knowledge and power is also met neither in Ohong, nor in
most other villages in Jempang region. Local leaders seem to serve their own
interests more than the interests of the community. Although rumours cannot
be fully checked, they suggest that village leadership is highly contested and
offers little scope for effective resource management. Village rules and regula-
tions are not respected and even broken by village leaders themselves, such as
those banning electro-fishing.
Finally, the lakeside communities are not able to use the ‘tribal slot’ — the
space available for local communities to resist the state or large companies on
the basis of their ‘indigenous’ status. The population of Ohong has not been
depicted in the media and academic research reports as a culturally-distinct
group. There are no NGOs, scholars or journalists who advocate and create
the necessary social and cultural capital, legitimacy, exposure and recognition
of their specific way of life to the outside world.
In sum, while local communities elsewhere in Indonesia manage to shop
around and use different forums to get their rights recognised, the fishing
communities around the Middle Mahakam lake area are losing out because
276 G. Nooteboom, E. B. P. de Jong / Asian Journal of Social Science 38 (2010) 258–278

they are not well organised, do not have a single, well-defined enemy, are
internally divided, and lack knowledge on changes and repertoires of resis-
tance. For them, green development remains fantasy.

References
Acciaioli, Greg (2010) “Lake and Land at Lindu: Imposition, Accommodation and Contestation
in the Revaluation of Resources in Upland Central Sulawesi”. Asian Journal of Social Sciences
38(2): 239−257.
Bakker, Laurens (2008) “Life in the Hinterland. Meaning and Usage of Communality in the
Mountains of Pasir (East Kalimantan)”, in Carrol Warren and John F. McCarthy (eds.) Locat-
ing the Commonwealth: Community, Environment and Local Governance in Indonesia. London
and New York: Routledge, Pp. 121−144.
—— (2009) “Who Owns the Land?” Unpublished Ph.D. Thesis, Radboud University,
Nijmegen.
Bakker, Laurens and Sandra Moniaga (2010) “The Space Between: Land Claims and the Law in
Indonesia”. Asian Journal of Social Science 38(2): 187−203.
Berkes, Fikret and Dyanna Jolly (2001) “Adapting to Climate Change: Social-Ecological Resil-
ience in a Canadian Western Arctic Community”. Conservation Ecology 5(2): 18−36.
Casson, Anne and Krystof Obidzinski (2002) “From New Order to Regional Autonomy: Shift-
ing Dynamics of ‘Illegal’ Logging in Kalimantan, Indonesia”. World Development 30(12):
2133−2151.
Chambers, Robert and Gordon Conway (1992) “Sustainable Rural Livelihoods: Practical Con-
cepts for the 21st Century”. IDS Discussion paper 296. Brighton: IDS.
Chokkalingam, Unna, Iwan Kurniawan and Yayat Ruchiat (2004) Fire, Livelihoods and Environ-
mental Degradation in the Middle Mahakam Peatlands. Bogor, Indonesia: CIFOR.
Christensen, Morten, Zenebe Gebregziabher Mulu, and Hanan Akbar Ibrahim (1986) Investiga-
tions into the Fisheries of the Middle Mahakam Area. Samarinda, East Kalimantan. Indonesia:
German-Indonesian Technical Cooperation for Area Development.
Curran, Lisa M., Simon Trigg and Alice K. McDonald (2004) “Lowland Forest Loss in Protected
Areas of Indonesian Borneo”. Science 303: 1000−1003.
De Jonge, Huub and Gerben Nooteboom (2006) “Why the Madurese? Ethnic Conflict in West
and East Kalimantan Compared”. Asian Journal of Social Science 34(3): 456−474.
Demmu, Baharudin (2002) “Oil and Gas Mining: Sustainable Ecological Destruction for East
Kalimantan Communities”. Paper read at the International Mining Workshop, 24 May−
7 June 2002, Denpasar, Bali.
Dove, Michael and Daniel Kammen (2001) “Vernacular Models of Development: An Analysis
of Indonesia under the ‘New Order’”. World Development 29(4): 619−639.
Evers, Hans-Dieter and Solvay Gerke (1992) “The Culture of Planning: Transmigration Area
Development in East Kalimantan, Indonesia”. International Sociology 7: 141−151.
Global Nature Fund (2007) “Mahakam Wetland”. Available at: http://www.globalnature.org
(accessed on: 12 February 2007).
Gönner, Christian (2000) “Birds of Lake Jempang and the Middle Mahakam Wetlands, East
Kalimantan”. Kukila 11:13−36.
—— (2002) A Forest Tribe of Borneo: Resource Use among the Dayak Benuaq. New Delhi: D.K.
Printworld (P) Ltd.
 G. Nooteboom, E. B. P. de Jong / Asian Journal of Social Science 38 (2010) 258–278 277

Hardwinarto, Sigit (n.d.[2006]) Assessment of Suspended Sediment Originated from Logging Areas
of Enggelam Watershed at Upstream of Melingtan Lake, East Kalimantan. Samarinda, Indonesia:
Faculty of Forestry, Mulawarman University.
Holle, Frederique (2009) “Happily Ever After? Local People’s Perceptions Concerning Changing
Environmental Conditions and its Alleged Effects on their Health”. Masters Thesis Medical
Anthropology, University of Amsterdam.
Jepson, Paul, James K. Jarvie, Kathy MacKinnon and Kathryn A. Monk (2001) “The End for
Indonesia’s Lowland Forests?” Science 292: 859−861.
Leach, Melissa and James Fairhead (2000) “Fashioned Forest Past, Occluded Histories? Interna-
tional Environmental Analysis in West African Locales”. Development and Change 31(1): 35−59.
Leach, Melissa, Robin Mearns and Ian Scoones (1999) “Environmental Entitlements: Dynamics
and Institutions in Community-Based Natural Resource Management”. World Development
27(2): 225−247.
Li, Tania Murray (2000) “Articulating Indigenous Identity in Indonesia: Resource Politics and
the Tribal Slot”. Comparative Studies in Society and History 42(1): 149−179.
—— (2007) The Will to Improve: Governmentality, Development, and the Practice of Politics.
Duke University Press. Durham & London.
Lukman and Gadis Sri Haryani (1996) Kondisi Perkembangan Telur dan Indukan Udang Galah
di Sungai Mahakam, Kalimantan Timur, Pendayagunaan dan Rehabilitasi Lingkungan Perairan
Danau Semayang Kalimantan Timur. Samarinda, East Kalimantan: Puslitbang Ekonomi dan
Pembangunan.
McCarthy, John F. (2000) “The Changing Regime: Forest Property and Reformasi in Indonesia”,
in Martin Doornbos, Ashwani Saith and Ben White (eds.) Forests: Nature, People, Power.
Oxford: Wiley-Blackwell, Pp. 89−128.
Mulawarman, Pusat Studi Lingkungan-Universitas (1993) Beberapa Alternatif Konservasi dan
Rehabilitasi Perairan Danau di Mahakam Tengah. Prosiding Lokakarya Pengelolaan dan Peman-
faatan Danau di Mahakam Tengah. Samarinda, East Kalimantan: Dirjen Reboisasi dan Reha-
bilitasi Lahan.
Nooteboom, Gerben (2005) “Competition, Collateral Damage, or ‘just’ Accidents? Three Expla-
nations of Ethnic Violence in Indonesia”. Bijdragen–Kitlv 161(4): 565−575.
Obidzinski, Krystof (2005) “Illegal Logging in Indonesia: Myth and Reality”, in Budy P. Reso-
sudarmo (ed.) The Politics and Economics of Indonesia’s Natural Resources. Singapore: ISEAS
Press, Pp. 193−205.
Peluso, Nancy Lee (1995) “Who’s Woods are These? Counter-Mapping Forest Territories in
Kalimantan, Indonesia”. Antipode 274(4): 383−406.
Peluso, Nancy Lee and Emily Harwell (2001) “Territory, Custom, and the Cultural Politics of
Ethnic War in West Kalimantan, Indonesia”, in Nancy Lee Peluso and Michael Watts (eds.)
Violent Environments. Ithaca and London: Cornell University Press, Pp. 213−236.
Rasi (2005) Biodiversity Survey 2005. Samarinda: Yayasan Rasi.
Roth, Dik (2003) “Ambition, Regulation and Reality. Complex Use of Land and Water Resources
in Luwu, South Sulawesi, Indonesia”. Ph.D. Dissertation, Wageningen University.
Saanin (1987) “Technical Report: Prosiding Lokakarya Perikanan Perairan Umum Wilayah
Mahakam Tengah”, in Rusit Mursid, S. Mikkel and Morten Christensen (eds.) Technical
Report: Prosiding Lokakarya Perikanan Perairan Umum Wilayah Mahakam Tengah. Kota Ban-
gun (East Kalimantan): Dinas Perikanan Pemda TKI.
Schippers, Titia (2010) “Securing Land Rights through Indigenousness: A Case from the Philip-
pine Cordillera Highlands”. Asian Journal of Social Science 38(2): 220−238.
Scoones, Ian and John Thompson (eds.) (1994) Beyond Farmers First, Rural People’s Knowledge,
Agricultural Research and Extension Practice. London: Intermediate Technology Publications.
278 G. Nooteboom, E. B. P. de Jong / Asian Journal of Social Science 38 (2010) 258–278

Sellato, Bernard (2002) Innermost Borneo: Studies in Dayak Cultures. Paris, Singapore: Seven
Orients & Singapore University Press.
Sumaryono (2005) “Protecting the Mahakam Lakes in East Kalimantan through an Eco-
Regional Development Programme for Sustainable Livelihoods”. Paper read at 10th Living
Lakes Conference, at Tagaytay City, Philippines.
Suryadiputra, Nyoman (2001) “Traditional Fishery Harvesting in the Mahakam Lakes, East
Kalimantan, Indonesia”. Paper read at 6th Living Lakes Conference, Lake Baikal.
Syachraini, Danielle Kreb and Budiono (2005) Technical Report: Socio-economic Assessment Sur-
vey in the Middle Mahakam Lakes and Wetlands Area in East Kalimantan, Indonesia, 2005.
Samarinda: Yayasan Konservasi RASI.
Tas’an, A. Irwandy, Sumitro and S. Hendrokusumo (1980) “Orcaella brevirostris (Gray, 1866)
from Mahakam River”. M.Sc. thesis, Jaya Ancol Oceanarium, Djakarta.
Tsing, Anna Lowenhaupt (1999) “Becoming a Tribal Elder, and Other Green Development
Fantasies”, in Tania Murray Li (ed.) Transforming the Indonesian Uplands: Marginality, Power
and Production. Amsterdam: Harwood Academic Publishers.
Von Benda-Beckamann, Franz, and Keebet von Benda-Beckmann (2010) “Multiple Embedded-
ness and Systemic Implications: Struggles over Natural Resources in Minangkabau since the
Reformasi”. Asian Journal of Social Sciences 38(2): 172−186.