Where Is Academic Freedom? When Knowledge Is Believed to Be for Sale, and a Tool to Serve Profit and Power

Where Is Academic Freedom? When Knowledge Is Believed to Be for Sale, and a Tool to Serve Profit and Power

By: Leony Sondang Suryani

Indonesian Scholar and SEAHRN Contributor

 

 

Today we, Indonesian scholars, find ourselves compelled to reflect: What does academic freedom truly mean in our country today? Or maybe for our region?

For our friends and colleagues across Southeast Asia, allow me to share a glimpse of what we’re currently facing: in Indonesia, two professors from the prestigious Institut Pertanian Bogor (IPB), Prof. Bambang Hero Saharjo and Prof. Basuki Wasis, are being sued in a civil case by a private company—simply for providing expert testimony in court based on their scientific research on environmental damage.

This is not the first time they have faced legal pressure for fulfilling their academic role. Previously, both had been subjected to lawsuits or criminal reports simply for presenting evidence-based analysis in legal proceedings.

From a legal standpoint, Indonesia has a Higher Education Law filled with beautifully worded promises. A promise of a safe space for scholars to pursue their academic calling within the framework of Tridharma Perguruan Tinggi. The law even affirms that the development of science and technology must be conducted through education and/or scientific research, upholding values of religion and national unity, all for the advancement of civilization and the well-being of humanity. Such responsibility, the law declares, lies with the individual scholar—who must be protected and supported by the university leadership.

Yet from any legal perspective in Indonesia, whether based on the Law on Witness and Victim Protection (UU PSK), anti-SLAPP principles, the Environmental Protection and Management Law (UU PPLH), the Supreme Court Regulation No. 1/2023 on Environmental Cases, 68 years of jurisprudence, or Indonesia’s own Criminal Procedure Code (KUHAP)—this civil lawsuit is not only a contradiction, it is an anomaly. A loud, undeniable signal that academic freedom is not merely under threat—it is already being encroached. And this is not only about Indonesia, . This should concern all of us in Southeast Asia.

Let us recall the foundational principles developed for the Southeast Asian context—The Surabaya Principles on Academic Freedom and the Autonomy of Higher Education Institutions (2017). This document was crafted by scholars, human rights defenders, and civil society actors across ASEAN, responding to the increasing pressure on academic institutions and scholarly expression.

One of its core tenets is clear:

Academic freedom is not a privilege. It is a right inherent to the academic profession.

Academic freedom does not simply mean the freedom to teach, research, or publish without interference. It includes the right to participate in public debate, to express scholarly views beyond the classroom, and to challenge power—without fear of retaliation. This principle aligns with global standards, which emphasize that academic freedom cannot exist without institutional autonomy. In other words, not only must individual scholars be protected, but universities must also resist political, economic, and corporate domination.

But then, we must ask ourselves—where are we, really?

Is academic freedom truly a collective concern, a living principle we uphold out of conviction and responsibility?

Or have we quietly joined those who commodify knowledge, using academic freedom not as a principle to defend, but as a label to attract funding and our prestige?

This moment must be a turning point. A moment of reckoning for Southeast Asian scholars and institutions. Repression against critical inquiry is growing, and we must respond with sharper voices and stronger resolve. As scholars, we must defend our right to think, to challenge, and to speak. As institutions, we must reclaim our role as the final stronghold for academic integrity. When an academic is attacked and the institution become awaken, it is not just the individual who is harmed, but the credibility of knowledge itself that is destroyed.

This is our shared responsibility as Southeast Asian scholars and institutions: to elevate academic freedom not as a vague ideal, but as a real, grounded regional movement. We must push back against states that parade beautiful regulations while simultaneously failing to protect the very scholars who live by them. We must have the courage to transform our endless dialogues, our donor-driven initiatives, into meaningful commitments. Without that, these beautifully written principles remain exactly what they are on paper: utopias. Fantasies we continue to sell to donors, even as our own region fails to live them.

To sue or report an academic simply because their research does not translate into profit is nothing short of a betrayal of knowledge itself. And we must be the ones to stop it. We must break the hypocrisy, challenge the manufactured narratives, and assert, clearly and unapologetically that knowledge is not created to please. It is not a tool for legitimacy. It is not a tool for promotion. It is not here to sugarcoat power. It is our duty to discover, to develop, and to speak the truth even when it’s inconvenient. Especially when it’s inconvenient.

If these attacks continue, the question is no longer merely about academic freedom. It becomes a question about the future of Southeast Asia itself. How can we imagine a critical, honest, and empowered next generation—if their teachers are punished for speaking the truth? Again, it is our responsibility to protect the dignity of scholarship, by defending academic freedom—firmly, loudly, unapologetically.

Together with Prof. Bambang Hero Saharjo, Prof. Basuki Wasis, and countless academics across the region, let us rise. Let us speak. Let us refuse to be silenced.

In the name of justice, academic freedom, and the soul of knowledge—
 Resist authoritarianism. Reject repression.

Panjang umur keadilan, panjang umur perjuangan!