Beyond the Law

A bird flying in the sky never questions the shape of its cage. It only cares when the sky no longer gives it room to fly. The same applies to the law. People do not overly debate the courthouse building, the judge’s robe, or the sound of the gavel. What they seek is far simpler: the belief that justice can still be found there. That trust is not built by magnificent edifices or the authority of state symbols. It is built by reasoning. By a verdict’s ability to explain itself with clear logic, strong evidence, and testable arguments. A state of law stands not merely on legislation, but on the public’s trust that the law operates with common sense.

That is why my attention during the verdict hearing for former Minister of Education, Culture, Research, and Technology, Nadiem Makarim, did not stop at the severity of the sentence handed down. The panel of judges sentenced him to ten years in prison, a fine of Rp1 billion, and an obligation to pay restitution of Rp809.5 billion. Of the five judges, four found him guilty, while one issued a dissenting opinion, arguing that the charges were not proven and the defendant should be acquitted. What truly piqued my curiosity were the sections of the legal considerations. Among them, the judge stated that Nadiem’s actions were ‘planned, structured, and systematic’, resulting in substantial state losses and ‘having a broad impact on the administration of education, especially for children in underdeveloped, frontier, and outermost regions.’ The phrase was repeated, making it sound robust. Yet, as a legal argument, it raises legitimate questions. What is the measure of a ‘broad impact’? Broad in what sense? By what indicators is it measured? Is it based on field research, educational audits, an evaluation of device utilisation, or verifiable data?

These questions are not intended to defend Nadiem or to blame the judge. Law is not literature. Nor is it a political speech. It is not enough for it to sound convincing. It must be testable. In a state of law, every verdict is open to criticism as long as that criticism is directed at its reasoning. Precisely because we respect the court, the public has the right to demand that every legal consideration be understandable, examinable, and rationally debatable. However, a brief discussion with a friend quickly brought me to a much larger issue. He merely smiled thinly when I commented on the legal considerations. ‘There is no point in discussing legal substance,’ he said curtly. ‘Our law is currently beyond law.’ The phrase hit hard and lingered in my mind.

I have known this friend for a long time. He is not the type who enjoys blaming state institutions. In fact, he once experienced firsthand how his family faced the legal process. His statement must have stemmed from that tragic experience. His wife was convicted in a corruption case while leading a state-owned enterprise. From the investigation stage until the verdict was read, the case drew widespread criticism from various circles because the basis of evidence and legal considerations were deemed fragile. My friend did not seek political protection. He did not lobby those in power. The opposite occurred. Academics criticised the verdict’s reasoning. Legal practitioners dissected the weaknesses in the evidence. The media reported on various irregularities during the trial. Public opinion grew into such immense social pressure that, ultimately, politics was compelled to respond through a presidential decision granting clemency. It was that experience which gave birth to the short sentence: ‘Our law is currently beyond law.’

I do not read this as cynicism. I read it as a diagnosis. Not a diagnosis of a single case, nor of a single judge, but a diagnosis of the condition of the rule of law. In the theory of the rule of law (rechtsstaat), the court is the final venue for dispute resolution. A judge’s verdict can indeed be tested through available legal mechanisms, but its primary legitimacy is born from the quality of reasoning that common sense can accept. A judge is not only obliged to decide a case but also to convince the public why the verdict deserves to be trusted. Therefore, the strength of a verdict lies not only in its ruling but also in its legal considerations. A good verdict does not merely declare someone guilty or not guilty. A good verdict makes people understand why that conclusion was reached. However, when one link in the chain of reasoning cannot be accounted for, public trust in the entire structure of the verdict can be eroded.