When ‘sawit’ becomes a tree
Why KBBI’s reclassification of oil palm has political consequences
The author is a researcher and interdisciplinary writer focusing on Islamic diplomacy and Southeast Asian political thought. He holds an MEd in Advanced Teaching, an MBA, and an MA in Islamic Studies. This article reflects the author’s own analysis and views and does not necessarily represent those of The Reformist.
There are moments in international affairs when history does not turn on wars or treaties, but on something far quieter: a word.
Last week, Indonesia’s language body changed the definition of ‘sawit,’ oil palm, from ‘plant’ to ‘tree.’ This single lexical shift has opened a debate that stretches far beyond linguistics. It reaches into forests, markets, climate diplomacy, and the future credibility of Southeast Asia’s largest economy.
Well, language is never neutral. Especially in policymaking, where words can shape incentives, unlock permissions, and redraw boundaries. Thus, it became important when the Great Dictionary of the Indonesian Language (Kamus Besar Bahasa Indonesia, or ‘KBBI’) classified oil palm as ‘tree’.
Oil palm is botanically a monocot, closer to grass than timber. It does not form wood in the ecological or carbon sense used by forestry science or international climate accounting. By redefining oil palm as ‘tree,’ the country collapses a long-standing legal distinction between agricultural crops and forests.
In Indonesia, that distinction governs where plantations may grow, how emissions are counted, and what qualifies as deforestation. Meaning, this language shift could create a new set of ‘rules’ for how we make decisions about oil palm.
The ‘sawit’ dilemma and the danger of its redefinition
The thing is, sawit is rather important for Indonesia. We produce more than 50 per cent of the world’s palm oil. It contributes roughly 4.5 per cent of our GDP and supports an estimated 16 million livelihoods directly and indirectly. For many rural regions, palm oil has meant roads, schools, and income where few alternatives existed. No serious conversation about Indonesia’s future can ignore this economic reality.
But neither can it ignore the costs. Research from Stockholm Environment Institute’s Trase platform shows palm oil expansion has been responsible for a significant share of Indonesia’s forest loss since the early 2000s. Between 2001 and 2020, more than 3 million hectares of forest were converted for palm plantations. These losses are not abstract. They translate into declining biodiversity, rising flood risks, peatland fires, and transboundary haze; costs borne not only locally but also across regions.
If an oil palm is a tree, then an oil palm plantation is a forest. This redefinition is not semantic pedantry. It risks turning deforestation into paperwork. A forest cleared and replanted with palm could, on paper, become reforestation. Carbon sinks could be counted where emissions are rising. This will be tricky as international partners, investors, and climate mechanisms rely on shared definitions. When those definitions drift in this direction, what’s going to happen to our credibility?
This matters for Indonesia’s strategic position. Jakarta has worked hard to present itself as a responsible middle power under President Joko Widodo: deforestation rates fell to the lowest levels in two decades, supported by a forest moratorium and international partnerships, including results-based payments from Norway and other donors (UNDP reported US$340.7M disbursed as of 2025).
Yet, something changed with the new administration in office. President Prabowo Subianto’s description of palm oil as a ‘miracle crop’ reflects a deeply held belief in sovereign development: Indonesia must not be constrained by rules written elsewhere, including by the international society. This instinct resonates strongly with domestic audiences and with many developing economies facing similar pressures.
The financial, environmental, and cultural costs
Sovereignty exercised through linguistic manoeuvre carries risks. The European Union’s deforestation regulation, delayed but not abandoned, hinges on verifiable land-use data. Australian supply-chain laws are moving in the same direction. Markets increasingly price not only commodities, but credibility. If Indonesia appears to be redefining forests to suit short-term goals, future access to green finance, carbon markets, and premium export markets could narrow rather than expand.
There is also a regional dimension. Southeast Asia’s forests are shared ecological assets. Fires in Sumatra darken skies in Singapore. Carbon released in Kalimantan warms the planet far beyond Indonesia’s shores. ASEAN’s strength lies in collective trust. If environmental data becomes contested, cooperation becomes harder.
The deeper issue, however, is cultural. Indonesia’s language has always been more than vocabulary; it is a social contract. When citizens sense that official language serves power rather than truth, confidence in institutions weakens. Environmental governance depends not only on enforcement, but on belief that rules are fair, data is honest, and sacrifices are shared.
None of this requires rejecting palm oil. The challenge is not palm versus forest, but short-term expansion versus long-term resilience. Yield improvements on existing plantations could meet much of future demand without clearing new land. Agroforestry, landscape restoration, and genuine reforestation can coexist with a profitable palm sector. Many Indonesian companies are already moving in this direction, driven by investor pressure and market logic.
Don’t weaponize language
What is needed now is alignment. Linguistic authority should not operate in isolation from ecological science or legal consequence. Definitions that carry regulatory weight must be developed transparently, with input from environmental scientists, legal scholars, indigenous representatives, and regional partners. Language can evolve, but it should not be weaponised.
Indonesia has a rare opportunity. As a country whose language is celebrated globally, whose economy anchors Southeast Asia, and whose forests matter to the world, it can show that development and integrity are not rivals. By anchoring policy in science rather than semantics, Indonesia can strengthen its negotiating hand, protect its ecosystems, and preserve the moral authority that has underpinned its rise.
In diplomacy, as in ecology, credibility grows slowly and is lost quickly. A nation’s words, like its forests, are most powerful when they are rooted deeply, grown carefully, and allowed to stand on their own truth.
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Revised assessment:
The article does not fabricate quotations, but it removes President Prabowo Subianto’s remarks from their political–rhetorical context and recasts them as technocratic and regulatory intent without evidence.
It builds its case through speculative associations, implying a causal chain between presidential speech, KBBI definitions, forest policy, and diplomatic risk—despite no formal institutional or legal link between these domains. At the same time, it omits relevant context, namely President Prabowo’s repeated emphasis on caution and sustainability in palm oil policy.
By combining context shifting, omission of material facts, and unproven causal leaps, the piece moves beyond fair opinion and enters implicit defamation, attributing policy motives that were never stated, enacted, or substantiated.