A military court in Jakarta just sentenced four intelligence officers for a brutal acid attack on 27-year-old human rights activist Andrie Yunus. On paper, it looks like a win. Soldiers went to jail. But if you look closer, the sentences—ranging from just 18 months to three years—feel like a slap on the face for anyone tracking the dangerous rise of military influence in Indonesia.
The attack left Yunus, a deputy coordinator for the rights group KontraS, with horrific chemical burns across 20% of his body and permanent blindness in his right eye. Yet, the court accepted a convenient narrative: these men acted completely on their own out of "personal resentment" because Yunus hurt their feelings. It's a classic strategy to shield higher-ups, and it leaves the real masterminds completely untouched.
The Night of the Attack and the "Offended" Intelligence Unit
On the night of March 12, 2026, Andrie Yunus finished recording a podcast at the Indonesian Legal Aid Foundation office in Central Jakarta. The topic? The rapid remilitarization of Indonesian politics and a controversial revision to the military law that allows active soldiers to take civil government posts.
As Yunus rode his motorcycle home, two men on another bike pulled up and threw a toxic cocktail of car battery acid and rust remover directly into his face. The assault wasn't random, and it wasn't a robbery. Nothing was stolen.
The four convicted men weren't ordinary foot soldiers. They were operators from the Strategic Intelligence Agency (BAIS).
- Captain Edi Sudarko: Sentenced to three years and dishonorably discharged. He recruited the team.
- First Lieutenant Budhi Hariyanto Widhi Cahyono: Sentenced to two and a half years and dishonorably discharged. He came up with the idea to use chemical acid.
- Second Sergeant Nandala Dwi Prasetya: Sentenced to two years.
- Second Sergeant Sami Lakka: Sentenced to 18 months.
The judges claimed these intelligence officers organized the hit because they felt "offended and outraged" by Yunus. He had previously interrupted a closed-door parliamentary meeting at a hotel where military officials were discussing the expansion of their political powers. The court ruled the attack was spontaneous personal revenge.
Think about that. Four trained military intelligence officers supposedly tracked an activist, mixed industrial chemicals, plotted an ambush, and executed a life-altering assault in the middle of the capital city—all on a whim because their feelings were hurt. It doesn't hold water.
Why a Military Court Can't Deliver True Justice
When military personnel commit crimes against civilians, they should face civilian courts. Instead, the Indonesian military (TNI) aggressively took over the case from the Jakarta police, locking the trial behind the closed doors of Military Court II-08.
This dual justice system is exactly what United Nations experts and Amnesty International warned would trigger widespread impunity. Military courts are designed to maintain internal discipline, not to protect the constitutional rights of civilian targets. By keeping the trial within the barracks, the system successfully managed the political fallout.
Yunus himself refused to testify during the trial. His legal team at the Advocacy Team for Democracy made it clear that he lacked any trust in the military court’s independence. Instead, Yunus took a bolder step. He filed a pretrial motion at the South Jakarta District Court, which successfully ordered the civilian police to keep investigating the assault.
The 14-Perpetrator Discrepancy the Court Ignored
The official military story wraps everything up neatly with four rogue actors. But independent investigations tell a completely different story.
Both the National Commission on Human Rights (Komnas HAM) and local civil society coalitions found evidence that at least 14 people were involved in the surveillance, planning, and execution of the attack. There was a highly coordinated logistical network behind the ambush.
The military prosecution only demanded two and a half years for the defendants. When prosecutors ask for a light sentence for an attack that literally melted a man's skin, you aren't looking at a rigorous pursuit of justice. You're looking at damage control. The head of the intelligence unit resigned back in March, which the military claimed was a sign of taking responsibility. But a resignation isn't a criminal conviction. It's an easy exit strategy.
Echoes of Indonesia's Dark Past
This case isn't happening in a vacuum. It directly mirrors older, darker chapters of Indonesian history, specifically the 2004 assassination of Munir Said Thalib. Munir, the iconic founder of KontraS—the exact same organization Yunus works for—was fatally poisoned with arsenic on a flight to Amsterdam. The hit was tied directly to state intelligence agents, yet the top-level planners evaded real accountability.
Under President Prabowo Subianto, who labeled the attack on Yunus as "terrorism," the military's footprint in civilian administration has grown significantly. When the state expands the military's role into civil affairs while simultaneously allowing military courts to shield soldiers who attack critics, it creates a terrifying environment for journalists, lawyers, and activists.
What Needs to Happen Right Now
The military court's verdict cannot be the end of this case. If you care about civic freedom and basic safety in Indonesia, the focus must shift to the civilian tracking channels that are still open.
- Pressure the Jakarta Police: The civilian South Jakarta District Court ordered the police to continue their investigation. Civil society groups must keep public pressure high so the police don't quietly shelf the file.
- Target the Civil Network: Since Komnas HAM identified up to 14 participants, the remaining suspects—especially civilian collaborators or financial backers—must be prosecuted openly in civilian courts.
- Demand Legislative Reform: The fundamental issue is the military law itself. True accountability won't happen until the Indonesian parliament revises the jurisdiction rules, ensuring that any soldier who commits a crime against a civilian faces a standard public court, period.
The four officers might be heading to a military prison, but the system that enabled them is still functioning perfectly. Leaving the investigation in the hands of the military means the real planners remain free to pick their next target.
