rights to legal recognition, protection and certainty, and to equality before the
judicial power . . . without independent judicial power there can be no dem-
Again, judicial independence is guaranteed elsewhere in the Constitution.
restrict the practises of religions or beliefs that identify as one of the religions
that religion. If the government-imposed restrictions are ignored, then the
government can move to ban those practices. If that ban is itself ignored, then
adherents face criminal penalties, including imprisonment.
Constitutional Court Decision 21/PUU-XII/2014, 96–7; Constitutional Court Decision 109/
Court Decision 13/PUU-XIII/2015, 122.
Constitutional Court Decision 69/PUU-X, 137, para 3.10.1.
Constitutional Court Decision 14–17/PUU-V/2007, 128.
Constitutional Court Decision 43/PUU-XIII/2015, 114.
See Article 24(1).
Constitutional Court Decision 140/PUU-VII/2009.
The Indonesian Constitutional Court
313
Near the end of its decision, the Court made these observations:
The meaning we give to the Indonesia Negara Hukum does not need to be
the same as the . . . rechtsstaat or the rule of law. The Negara Hukum princi-
ple must be viewed through the lens of the Constitution, that is, a Negara
Hukum that positions ‘Almighty God’ as the primary principle, and in which
religious values underlie the life of the nation and the state. It is not a state
that separates religion and state and does not follow purely individualistic
or communal principles. The Indonesian Constitution does not allow cam-
paigns pushing for freedom to have no religion, to promote ‘anti-religion’
or to offend or discredit religious teachings or texts which are the source
of religious beliefs, or which sully the name of God. This is one thing that
sets Indonesia’s Negara Hukum apart from the Western rule of law. In the
administration of government and the judiciary, and in lawmaking, religios-
ity and religious teaching and values are yardsticks to determine whether the
statute is good or bad – even for determining whether law is constitutional
or unconstitutional. In line with this thinking, the restrictions on human
rights [can be] on the basis of ‘religious values’, as mentioned in art. 28J(2)
of the Constitution. This is different from art. 18 of the ICCPR, which does
not include religious values as a ground for limiting individual freedoms.
47
Unfortunately, the Court’s statement seems to raise more questions than
answers about Indonesia’s version of the
Negara Hukum.
The primacy of
‘Almighty God’ is undoubtedly a reference to Indonesia’s five-principle
national ideology, Pancasila, which is contained in the Preamble to the
Constitution. Its first principle is ‘Belief in Almighty God’, making Indonesia
a religious state. However, the Preamble does not specify the religion or
religions to which it refers. This has created countless problems throughout
Indonesia’s independent history, with some – perhaps most – Indonesians
seeing it as an ideology of tolerance for all religions, and others – probably
a relatively small percentage of the population – seeing it as providing con-
stitutional validity for conservative interpretations of Islam. (As mentioned,
Islam is Indonesia’s majority religion, though it is commonly said that most
Indonesians are moderate Muslims.) Given the differences between the ten-
ets of the religions formally recognised and practised in Indonesia – Islam,
Catholicism, Protestantism, Hinduism, Buddhism and Confucianism – the
Court’s statements about religion and the Negara Hukum are not instructive.
Which religion’s values can or should be a ‘yardstick’ for constitutional valid-
ity? Most commentators have concluded that the Court was referring to the
conservative version of Islam expounded by Indonesia’s Council of Islamic
47
Ibid.
, 275.