DENPASAR – Bali is burning—not from the tropical sun that bathes its beaches, but from the heat of political tension in the wake of protests on August 30. What should have been an opportunity for leaders to listen has instead become a showcase of arrogance, fanned by incendiary remarks from officials who ought to calm the flames, not feed them.
The Equal Citizens Forum (ForWaras), joined by dozens of civil society organizations, has sharply condemned Bali Governor I Wayan Koster and Police Operations Chief Kombes Pol Soelistijono for remarks widely criticized as racist. Instead of addressing the substance of citizens' grievances—soaring property taxes in Badung, suffocating traffic, a mounting waste crisis, and a cost of living out of reach for many—officials reached for a dangerous shortcut: identity politics.
Governor Koster downplayed the protests by noting that many detainees lacked Balinese ID cards. Soelistijono went further, claiming that based on “name data,” most of the demonstrators were not true Balinese. “Those originally from Bali would not want to create chaos,” he asserted.
Such remarks are not merely arrogant—they are a betrayal of Bhinneka Tunggal Ika, Indonesia's creed of unity in diversity, and the very spirit that has long defined Bali. This is an insidious reframing: shifting focus from legitimate democratic demands to the specter of “outsiders” stirring trouble. It reduces real grievances to an ethnic dispute, as though only newcomers suffer from overtaxation, gridlock, or rising costs.
From Jakarta, the narrative is very different. Professor Werdhi Sutisari, better known as Tisa, dismissed talk of a “public trust crisis” as political framing. She insisted life continues normally, reforms are ongoing, and that the protests are unrepresentative.
Both accounts may hold elements of truth—but they operate on separate frequencies. One speaks in the polished tone of official programs and reforms, the other in the raw voice of citizens whose daily lives bear the cost of policy failures.
What demands urgent attention, however, is the latent danger in Bali's officials' statements. They do more than miss the point—they set citizens against one another, pitting “locals” against “outsiders.” It is a tired strategy: when governance falters, turn the people on each other so the failures of power are obscured.
This is not the Bali of history. The island's soul is rooted in Puputan—collective resistance against injustice, not division by identity. What sense is there in welcoming millions of foreign tourists each year, while casting suspicion on fellow Indonesians who have lived, worked, and built their lives here?
The message should be clear: both national and regional leaders must abandon defensiveness and stop branding dissent as illegitimate. Citizens deserve responses through policy, not scapegoating. The Ombudsman and National Police Commission should investigate both administrative failures and the reckless rhetoric of state officials.
Bali's hard-earned harmony cannot be held hostage by the arrogance of power or the pettiness of identity politics. True leadership is not about finding scapegoats—it is about humility, the courage to admit mistakes, and the commitment to restore trust through real reform.
Because Bali is not defined by suspicion or division. It is defined by Tat Twam Asi: I am you, and you are me. Its people cannot be boxed in or silenced simply because they raise their voices for justice.
Reported by Giostanovlatto and Fery Fadly in Denpasar, Bali. This report was filed by journalists from Hey Bali and Bali Today
