From Indonesia's poisoned gold tunnels, miners look to farming

Khaleej Times

2 days ago

Dedi Supriadi swings his hoe into the soil at his aubergine and cucumber farm – land where he once dug for gold in the hamlet of Citorek Kidul in Indonesia.
The mountainous region is scarred by illegal gold mining, where workers carve deep into hillsides and caves and risk their lives in the process.
Tempted by the traces of gold left behind by a former state-run mine, Aneka Tambang (ANTAM), villagers have turned to small-scale illegal mining, driving deforestation and using toxic chemicals like mercury and cyanide that pollute water and kill wildlife.
Critics and environmentalists have called for stricter measures to stop the practice and encourage a return to traditional and less destructive ways of life like farming.
A police crackdown and signs of change, such as several miners recently switching to farming, have raised hopes of a possible turning point in the effort.
Sukmadi Jaya Rukmana, a local agricultural officer, is helping miners transition to traditional livelihoods.
He warned the uncontrolled mining can increase the risk of deadly landslides.
"The green vegetation around the mountains is stripped away, leaving rainwater to rush downhill without any natural buffer," said Rukmana.
Such threats moved Supriadi to leave mining behind.
"I'd rather stick to small-scale farming like this than go back to the mines. I'm scared of getting buried, especially during the rainy season," he said.
Citorek Kidul's 1,800 residents live on the ancestral territory of the Kasepuhan Banten Kidul traditional community, 130 km (81 miles) southwest of Jakarta.
Its culture of sacred forest protection and rice harvests is under threat as residents dig for gold, leaving deep pits and tunnels too difficult to be restored.
Indonesia, one of the world's megadiverse countries with vast swaths of rainforest, represents about 3% of global gold output, alongside South Africa and Peru, according to U.S. Geological Survey data.
The gold site in Citorek Kidul was mined by ANTAM in the 1980s. Operations ceased in the 1990s, and the site was abandoned soon afterwards.
Driven by economic hardship and a lack of state oversight after ANTAM pulled out, villagers began revisiting the drilling sites, using artisanal methods without formal reclamation or monitoring.
The illegal mining intensified as word spread.
In February, Banten Regional Police arrested 10 suspects accused of mining gold without a license, according to local media, which can lead to five years in prison and a fine up to 100 billion Indonesian Rupiah ($6.1 million).
Local authorities face the challenge of encouraging less destructive ways of making money, like sustainable agriculture.
For centuries, Citorek villagers relied on inland fisheries for carp as well as farms with rice and other crops, said Jajang Kurniawan, head of the Banten Kidul Regional Indigenous Council.
The region has no tradition of mining, which began with large companies like ANTAM, and the Indigenous council never established clear mining rules, he said.
"It's been going on for a long time, and people here won't accept a ban. If we try to enforce one, we end up clashing with our own people," Kurniawan said.
"Customary leaders have advised against mining, but it remains only a recommendation,' he said.
The mining is linked to the clearing of forests, erosion of waterways and degradation of soil, according to research published in 2022 in the Media Ekonomi journal.
DIGGING DEEP
Stone carver Sumantri chisels at depths of up to 150 meters (492 feet), wearing no protective gear as he looks for gold-bearing rock.
"It's risky down there – prone to collapse," he said. "We had to bring in timber to brace the walls."
A few years ago, he earned 10 million Indonesian Rupiah ($612) when his team struck gold, but this year they have yet to find another gold-bearing rock and he earns just 100,000 Indonesian Rupiah ($6) a day.
Supriadi said he used to lead a 15-person team digging and chiseling rocks, hauling sacks weighing more than 50 kg (110 lbs) and using dynamite inside caves as deep as 100 meters (328 feet).
To survive in shafts that deep, miners rely on plastic air hoses connected to fuel-powered generators above ground.
But the air below is thick and stifling.
"Many of my friends developed tuberculosis and lung problems – probably from the dust while chiseling and the air pumped in from the machines," he said.
RETURNING TO THE FIELDS
In much of Indonesia, food production, like mining, is linked to deforestation as plantations are built for palm oil and commercial crops.
But guided by customary laws, communities could practise small-scale agriculture that respects forest zones and natural cycles.
If Indonesia were to reduce mining, it must present the miners with options and help connect farmers to markets, said Rezki Syahrir, CEO of the Indonesian Initiative for Sustainable Mining (IISM), an independent non-governmental organization.
"There needs to be economic diversification into other sectors, such as agriculture, plantations or inland fisheries," he said.
One challenge is that local tradition considers rice to be sacred and cannot be bought or sold.
"They still need money to send their kids to school, to pay for electricity. And you can't exactly pay the power bill with a sack of rice, can you?" said Rukmana.
He said 10 illegal miners recently shifted to traditional farming, and they could help produce a surplus of vegetables to boost the local economy, he said.
Supriadi said he has been able to earn a stable - and safer - income since he left mining in 2016. He now runs a motorcycle repair shop.
"In gold mining, your body's pushed to the limit. It just drains you," he said.
"For me, working on the farm is far better."