A New Direction for Pesantrens: Preserving Tradition, Answering the Modern Era

There is one figure that prevents me from sleeping soundly. Between the last two data collection periods, the number of pesantren institutions increased from 41,286 to 42,369. During the same period, the number of students actually remained stable at 6,267,741. The institutions are growing, but trust in pesantren is facing many tests.

This is what I call the ‘Pesantren Paradox’. The cause is not singular, but layered. One issue is the unfinished integration of student data by name and address, which previously used aggregate methods, where students are simultaneously enrolled in madrasahs and general schools.

This comes precisely when pesantren, for the first and only time in the history of the Republic, have obtained their own home within the state structure. Presidential Regulation Number 18 of 2026 establishes the Directorate General of Pesantren as an Echelon I unit within the Ministry of Religion. This is reinforced by Ministerial Regulation Number 16 of 2026. For some, this is merely a matter of organisational restructuring. For us, it is the beginning of a long-awaited era.

During the New Order era, all pesantren affairs were handled by a single Echelon III unit—one sub-directorate head—for tens of thousands of institutions. The 1989 National Education System Law did not even mention the word ‘pesantren’; it was merely tucked away as a religious institution organised by the community, with the consequence that students had to undergo equivalence exams for their diplomas to be recognised.

Yet, pesantren are older than this nation. Pondok Al-Kahfi Somolangu in Kebumen has been teaching since 1475, twenty years before Columbus landed in America. The ‘Jihad Resolution’ was born from pesantren, not from colonial meeting rooms. Gus Dur described it as a subculture: a world capable of transforming its surrounding society without sacrificing its own identity.

Therefore, the birth of the Directorate General of Pesantren is not a gift; it is a delayed recognition. However, recognition is the starting line, not the finish line—and we enter this starting line amidst three simultaneous pressures.

First, demography. The national total fertility rate is now 2.18 and continues to decline. The demographic bonus will reach its limit between 2030 and 2035. This means something harsh and simple: there will no longer be a natural population surge to fill our classrooms on its own. Simultaneously, by 2035, approximately 90% of the population in Java will live in urban areas. Pesantrens, rooted in rural areas, must prepare to face the expectations of urban society.

Second, the economy. The middle class—the primary buffer for education funding—has shrunk from 57.35 million people (2019) to 47.85 million (2024). Nine and a half million people have slipped down a class. Almost half the population is now in a vulnerable position. The consequence is felt directly at the gates of the pesantren: parents calculate every rupiah as a life-and-death investment. They no longer only ask if their child will be pious; they ask if their child will be safe, healthy, and capable of supporting themselves in the future.

Third, the generation. Gen Z numbers 74.93 million people. Two-thirds of them have become adopters of artificial intelligence. I want to say this plainly to the kiai and caregivers: institutions that refuse to integrate technology will be considered obsolete by their own students.

Amidst all this, there is a reassuring finding. The role of religion is still viewed as very important by more than 60% of the population across all generations. The nation’s spiritual foundation is not wavering. Parents are not abandoning religious education. What has changed are the requirements. As many as 79.6% of parents want a combination of general and religious education; only 11.9% want purely religious education. The three most desired subjects are: computers and digitalisation, economics, and science. A general curriculum is now a prerequisite, not an addition.

Then there is a finding we must face with an open heart. When parents are asked what causes them to cancel their child’s enrolment, the top answer is not about the curriculum. 69% answered: fear of violence and bullying. 61.8%: fear of abuse. I will not hide behind the phrase ‘it was just an isolated incident’. No matter how excellent the religious curriculum we offer, a single incident of violence is enough to make parents turn away.

The facilities they most desire today are not grand buildings, but rather healthcare services, libraries, clean sanitation, and internet access. The message is clear: parents entrust their children to us to be protected, before they are taught. In our tradition, protection is part of education. Hifzh al-nafs—the protection of life—is the most fundamental principle of maqashid syariah. A safe pesantren is not a foreign demand of modernity; it is a demand of jurisprudence itself.

Therefore, we are not proceeding with mere discourse. We will formulate technical norms and provisions for child safeguarding through the SAFESANTRI policy. Multi-level anti-violence task forces will be formed up to the Provincial and Regency/City Ministry of Religion offices. SIMTREN will be built to replace EMIS so that data on students, teachers, and facilities is finally accurate—because policies based on erroneous data only produce new injustices.

BOS (School Operational Assistance) fund technical guidelines will be modified to favour dormitory supervisors and caregivers, a group that works twenty-four hours a day but is most often overlooked in their rights. 2,000 Pesantren-Owned Enterprises (BUM Pesantren) will be established. 2,000 pesantren are proposed to become Nutritional Fulfilment Service Units, so that pesantren do not always position themselves as recipients of services, but as providers.

One last thing, especially for the caregivers. A new challenger has emerged: international Islamic boarding schools with Cambridge curricula, cutting-edge laboratories, and an image designed precisely to answer the anxieties of the urban middle class. I do not see this as a threat, but as a mirror. The institutions most vulnerable to losing students are not traditional pesantren that remain steadfast in their uniqueness, nor are they grand, modern pesantren that have completed their transformation. The most vulnerable are those institutions trapped in the middle: no longer deep enough as salaf, nor…