- 1 In general terms, and more specifically with regard to Indonesian, the most important and relevant (...)
1The dissemination of a national language has long been considered one of the major tasks that multilingual post-colonial states must address in order to secure their future as cohesive national entities and progress toward development. In this context, the question of the national language took on a doubly essential significance: as the foundation of a young, forward-looking nation, and as a prerequisite for the development of an efficient education system. Faced with the choice between promoting a single local language or a foreign language—typically the language introduced and disseminated by the former colonial power—most language planners gave little attention to linguistic diversity.1
2Such was the situation in Indonesia in 1945: with its immense linguistic diversity—over 700 languages—and the choice of a national language spoken by a minority in terms of native speakers, the country did not fall into the category of states likely to respond easily to the dual demands of linguistic unity and modernization. The key questions were how to establish a form of linguistic unity and what to do with this diversity. The education system—along with the media—found itself at the center of these issues.
3In this article, I will start by clarifying a few denominations related to the languages spoken in Indonesia (part 1) and presenting the overall language situation for school-aged speakers, based on the results of the 2020 census (part 2). Then I will look at the issue from the point of view of regulations, existing teaching schemes and debates, in two stages: a first period (part 3), in which the use of regional languages is self-evident, due to the low diffusion of the national language (1945-1990s); then a second period (part 4), marked by a proven decline in regional languages and the emergence of concern about their future (1990s-present); I will end by presenting briefly recent projects (part 5), which aim to place regional languages at the heart of the teaching system.
4The terms used today to refer to the categories, groups of languages and languages spoken in the archipelago were introduced in various normative provision drawn up in 1945 and later, and based on usage that barely preceded that date. The meaning of these terms remained undefined until the pre-seminar and seminar on the national language held in Jakarta in 1974 and 1975 ; it has since been reiterated unchanged in normative texts of varying scope (Samuel 2000a).
- 2 The “Youth Pledge” is a milestone in the Indonesian nationalist movement. Pronounced in Jakarta on (...)
5The name Bahasa Indonesia (“Indonesian language”) gradually became established in the late 1920s (“Oath of Youth”, 1928)2. At the time, it was highly political and immediately associated with Indonesia as a state in the making, firstly, and then independent from 1945 onwards. Linguistically speaking, since independence this name refers to standard Indonesian, established as “language of the State” in the constitution of 1945 (art. 36). Nevertheless, the majority of Indonesian speak a different language as their mother tongue, making it rare for Indonesian to be used as a first language.
- 3 For a detailed discussion and critical analysis of the terms used to characterize the Indonesian si (...)
6While in the minds of language policy-makers and other decision-makers the term “Indonesian” is probably clear and refers to standard Indonesian, this is not the case for most speakers. In fact, in a system that can at least be described as diglossic,3 standard Indonesian is acquired at school and used in the most formal situations of social life; this is what leads Joseph Errington to describe Indonesian as “un-native,” in other words neither “native” nor “non-native” (Errington 2006). However, the term “Bahasa Indonesia” is finally commonly used to designate a wide range of non-standard variants of varying geographical extent, forming a continuum with the standard punctuated by standard or non-standard markers varying in strength (Sneddon 2006).
7The terms commonly known in other South-East Asian countries, such as “minority languages” or “ethnic languages,” are not used in Indonesia and have no basis or regulatory definition, unlike bahasa daerah/regional languages. In fact, in 1945 all languages spoken in Indonesia were minority languages in terms of speaker numbers, including the national language, with the sole exception of Javanese. The term “minority language” could then only have been applied to languages other than Javanese, thereby establishing a hierarchy between Javanese and all the other languages. However, the political discourse on languages in Indonesia contrasts Indonesian with all indigenous languages, without distinction, while also maintaining a fiction of equality among these languages, even though they are in very different situations.
- 4 Today, most scholars estimates that the number of living languages exceeds 700. The Ethnologue, for (...)
8Therefore, the term bahasa daerah/regional languages encompasses all indigenous languages of Indonesia, except for Indonesian, i.e. over 700 languages.4 It conveys a sense of periphery, as daerah/region is generally opposed to pusat/center, and it clearly establishes a link between language and territory, despite the upheavals introduced by geographic mobility since Independence. This is also the case with designations such as “local” or “indigenous” languages (without excluding the possibility of mobility for the latter, see Zein [2020: 31]). Calling these languages “vernacular” as does Nababan (1983) and thus defining them by their use, allows us to take into account their ongoing deterritorialization. Occasionally it has been suggested that this broad category could be refined by distinguishing between major vernaculars (many speakers and written tradition), minor vernaculars (few speakers and no written tradition) and Malay vernaculars, since linguistically speaking Indonesian is a Malay (ibid. : 8), but this subdivision is rarely used and not retained in official texts, for the same reason as mentioned above: no regional language should be legally distinguished from the others.
9Actually, regional languages include very diverse languages whose number of speakers, distribution, linguistic environment, prestige, vitality, etc. vary greatly from one (ethno)linguistic group to another. Although Malayic languages, and more specifically Malay dialects, whether vernacular—used locally, by definition—or vehicular of regional extension, are legally classified as regional languages, linguistic proximity encourages mutual intelligibility with Indonesian, whether standard or not, and can lead to confusion as to whether or not these Malay dialects should be taken into account in teaching.
- 5 Such is not the case for Indonesian, which is conceived as a conscious creation, the expression of (...)
- 6 By contrast French legislation recognizes “six non-territorial languages resulting from immigration (...)
10In addition, the 2009 Law (DPR 2009) specifies that regional languages are spoken “from generation to generation” (secara turun-temurun)5 on the national territory (art. 1-5). On the one hand, it underlines the hereditary dimension of these languages (Suwarno 2020: 2) which must be preserved and passed on to future generations. On the other hand, it excludes languages whose presence is the result of incoming migration, even when they are or have been spoken by communities of foreign origin, admittedly, but settled in Indonesia for generations and whose speakers are Indonesian by descent. The Chinese, Indian (Tamil), and Arabic languages spoken and transmitted by nationals within Indonesian national territory are classified as “foreign languages” (bahasa asing).6
11Historically, the category of regional languages was provided for in an initial draft of the Constitution (13 July 1945) in the following terms:
(1) The national language [bahasa kebangsaan] shall be Indonesian (Bahasa Indonesia).
(2) The regional languages shall be respected [dihormati] (Bahar et al. 1995: 232, 382).
12But the second paragraph was later (18 August 1945) relegated to the margins by its authors, in the “clarifications” (Indon. keterangan) of the Constitution, which are official explanations attached to the main text. These clarifications are not surprising given the linguistic profile of these politicians (sometimes speakers of one regional language and Dutch only) and the need to recognize—cautiously—the diversity of the Republic’s populations. But whereas the initial proposal soberly stated that “regional languages shall be respected,” the clarification in the final text, which is more explicit, specifies:
In regions which possess their own language carefully cultivated by their population (for example Javanese, Sundanese, Madurese), these languages shall be respected and cultivated by the State. They form part of Indonesia’s living culture. (Undang-Undang Dasar Negara Republik Indonesia, Clarifications article 36).
13These “clarifications” do not really clarify the position of the regional languages, with the exception of the only three mentioned. They do, however, say a lot about the context that produced this ambiguous wording, as well as about the constituent assembly members’ position and linguistic ideology. In a sense, they offer a glimpse of what Indonesia’s language policy towards regional languages will entail, and as such deserve some comment.
14Let’s skip the last sentence (“They form part of Indonesia’s living culture”), which sums up the proposed ambition of regional languages to nourish national culture; this idea was to recur regularly in the mouths of politicians and agents of language policy, particularly under the New Order (1966-1998). The commentary first suggests a certain way of conceiving the relationship between speakers and their language (“carefully cultivated”), which probably rules out idioms with no written tradition or those whose speakers have not made the language a cardinal point of group identity. Admittedly, the text does not speak of identity, nor does it formally establish the link between language and culture, but in the eyes of its authors, they are one and the same; moreover, the text expresses quite clearly that language and culture are indissociable—see its last sentence—and it implicitly imposes the sole bosom of Indonesia and Indonesian on these populations with no common linguistic self-awareness, born of a form of cultural nothingness.
15Half a century later, an Indonesian sociolinguist would explicitly draw the conclusion from this ambiguous constitutional clarification:
Regional languages have been granted the right to live [by the State], as long as they are carefully cultivated by their defenders. But if a regional language no longer has [defenders], no law compels the State to bring it back to life artificially. This is a sign that the language is no longer needed. (Lumbanbatu 1994: 79.)
Eventually, only the major languages—or some of them—were effectively protected (Zein 2020: 175).
16The partial erasure of linguistic diversity by the mention of three languages only—Javanese, Sundanese, and Madurese, all spoken in the Javanese or Javanized regions—reveals the tears of Javanese-speaking members of the constituent assembly. These Javanese politicians must have perceived the pre-eminence of Indonesian and the decline of their own mother tongue as a historical necessity, yet a cultural and linguistic loss. After all, Malay was indeed a language of culture and prestigious states, but forming a linguistic nebula which was familiar to Javanese politicians only through its rather low-valued forms such as vehicular Malay and Batavia Malay.
17Politically astute, these Javanese thought it preferable to associate themselves with two languages from the Javanese “cultural hinterland” (Sundanese and Madurese), so as not to appear to be different from the other components of the national whole. But this conviction of the superiority of the Javanese language would later give rise to some writings on the theme of the sacrifice made by the Javanese to Indonesia and Indonesian (Samuel 2000b).
- 7 Despite these different names, the same standard is recognised as the national and official languag (...)
18Lastly, the following linguistic and denominational specificities should be underlined. Malay is a highly dialectalized language, spoken as a mother tongue in one form or another in six Southeast Asian countries (Brunei Darussalam, Indonesia, Malaysia, Singapore, Thailand and Timor Leste). Some of these dialects are local vernaculars (Kelantan Malay, Jawi Malay—in Southern Thailand—, Loloan Malay—in Bali—, etc.), while others are used as regional lingua francas (Sarawak Malay, Kupang Malay, etc.). Two variants have been standardised and have the status of the national language of four states, under three different names: “Indonesian” (Bahasa Indonesia) on the one hand; “Malay” (Bahasa Melayu, Singapore and Brunei) and “Malaysian” (Bahasa Malaysia) on the other.7
19Having provided these denominational clarifications, I will now illustrate the position of Indonesia’s regional languages in relation to the national language, particularly among school-age children, based on the findings of the 2020 census.
- 8 For a recent overview, see Zein (2020: 31-52).
20The decline of regional languages in Indonesia is both a refrain in the country’s sociolinguistic literature and a reality.8 The reasons generally given are the integrative power of the national language in Indonesian society, economic, geographic (transmigration, urbanization) and social mobility, as well as the growing incidence of mixed marriages. This decline does not only benefit the national language, but also the regional lingua francas. I provide here a statistical contextualization of the current situation, to help understand what is at stake.
- 9 Public (open access) data from the 2020 census does not provide access to a great degree of detail, (...)
21Among all data collected by the 2020 census officers (BPS 20229), I have analyzed 12 data tables dealing with language use. These tables, as summarized below, deal with 1. mother tongue, 2. languages used in the family circle, 3. those used in everyday life (i.e. in the immediate environment, the neighbourhood) and, finally, 4. proficiency in Indonesian. The data is broken down by province, by gender, by type of residence (urban vs. rural) and by age group. Ethnicity is not specified in the data to which I have had access. In my analysis, I have only considered two classification criteria (gender and residence) and the first three age groups (5-9, 10-14, and 15-19), as they are the most relevant to the school system.
22Several biases affect this statistical work, but the two most significant are as follows. Firstly, the census categorizes languages into four groups: Indonesian (bahasa Indonesia), regional languages (bahasa daerah), foreign languages (bahasa asing), and sign language (bahasa isyarat). I will set aside foreign and sign languages; however, as previously discussed, it is essential to consider the relative ambiguity of the first and the significant heterogeneity of the second group. Furthermore, with regard to Indonesian language proficiency, the assessments conducted by census-takers are extremely rudimentary (Ananta et al. 2015: 275; BPS 2022: table 154). Secondly, in terms of usage, the census tables do not reflect the range of languages used in everyday life, within the family or in the immediate environment whatever their form (variant) or status. When several regional languages are mentioned, only the main one is retained, and when Indonesian is also mentioned, it is the only one noted (Ananta et al. 2015: 277).
23Spatial classification also raises questions. The framework of provincial administrative units does not provide a detailed understanding of sociolinguistic situations, as there are few linguistically homogeneous provinces. Besides, the distinction between urban and rural areas, to use census categories, would benefit from some refinement, with the decline of agriculture as the main activity in peri-urban or more remote areas, which are gradually being overrun by housing estates or given over to tourism.10 Finally, as explained above the tables here used take account of the sociolinguistic situation at national level only, as a whole, but there are significant regional variations between the provinces.
24That said, it is possible to identify a number of facts that will help to characterize the profile and linguistic repertoire of young speakers and the changes underway.
Table 1. Indonesians aged 5 to 19 with a regional language as their mother tongue
Age groupsa |
Urban |
Rural |
Total |
Boys |
Girls |
Overall |
Boys |
Girls |
Overall |
|
a. 5-9 yo |
49.62% |
49.03% |
49.33% |
74.81% |
74.41% |
74.61% |
60.53% |
b. 10-14 yo |
52.26% |
51.75% |
52.01% |
77.46% |
77.02% |
77.25% |
63.22% |
c. 15-19 yo |
55.21% |
54.19% |
54.71% |
80.04% |
79.55% |
79.80% |
65.83% |
Decrease a.-c. |
-5.59% |
-5.16% |
-5.38% |
-5.23% |
-5.14% |
-5.19% |
-5.28% |
a. Ages reached at the time of the census (2020). Group a., children born 2011-2015; group b. 2005-2010; group d. 2001-2005. |
25First of all, we can see the persistence of regional languages, despite their decrease, even among the youngest age group (5–9 years) taken as a whole: 60.53% of these children have a language other than Indonesian as their mother tongue, 66.06% use it in the family circle and 64.73% in their neighborhood (Tables 1, 2 and 3 below, right-hand columns). These three values show that regional languages continue to be part of the linguistic environment of children, including those whose mother tongue is Indonesian; family and neighborhood are areas of plurilingualism. The tables, broken down by sex and area of residence, also show very little gender differentiation, but a marked opposition between urban and rural areas. In the former, an average of 49.33% of children have a local language as their mother tongue, or use it for local exchanges (within the family 54.72%; with neighbors 53.54%), compared with 74.61% (within the family 80.31%; with neighbors 78.78%) in rural areas, a difference of around 25 points.
26However, regional languages are undeniably on the decline everywhere, both as a mother tongue and in family jobs and close contact with the environment, which is calling into question their transmission. A simple comparison of the three age groups shown in Table 1 reveals this for both sexes, urban as well as rural. Today’s 5-9 year-old children are less exposed to regional languages compared to 15-19 year-old teenagers. Not only has the proportion of children declaring a regional language as their mother tongue declined (Table 1: -5.28%), but, for the same groups, the use of these languages in intra-family interactions has decreased even more significantly (Table 2: -6.56%). In other words, a growing number of households prefer to use Indonesian rather than their mother tongue. On the other hand, residence, either rural or urban, seems to have no bearing on the extent of this decline.
Table 2. Indonesians aged 5 to 19 using regional languages in the family
Age groups |
Urban |
Rural |
Total |
Boys |
Girls |
Overall |
Boys |
Girls |
Overall |
|
a. 5-9 yo |
54.98% |
54.45% |
54.72% |
80.50% |
80.12% |
80.31% |
66.06% |
b. 10-14 yo |
58.47% |
58.01% |
58.24% |
84.11% |
83.73% |
83.92% |
69.64% |
c. 15-19 yo |
61.78% |
60.72% |
61.27% |
87.17% |
86.58% |
86.89% |
72.62% |
Decrease a.-c. |
-6.80% |
-6.27% |
-6.55% |
-6.67% |
-6.46% |
-6.58% |
-6,56% |
Table 3. Indonesians aged 5 to 19 using regional languages in everyday life
Age groups |
Urban |
Rural |
Total |
Boys |
Girls |
Overall |
Boys |
Girls |
Overall |
|
a. 5-9 yo |
53.84% |
53.22% |
53.54% |
78.98% |
78.58% |
78.78% |
64.73% |
b. 10-14 yo |
56.93% |
56.21% |
56.58% |
81.22% |
81.81% |
82.02% |
67.88% |
c. 15-19 yo |
59.63% |
58.34% |
59.00% |
84.81% |
84.29% |
84.56% |
70.33% |
Decrease a.-c. |
-5.79% |
-5.12% |
-5.46% |
-5.83% |
-5.71% |
-5.78% |
-5.60% |
27The question of competence in Indonesian was also raised in the 2020 census (see Table 4 below). If overall 4.28% of children in the youngest age range declare that they don’t speak Indonesian, this point must be interpreted with caution. The 5–9 age group is a mix of children who are not in school (primary schooling starts at age 7) though possibly socialized in kindergartens, and those already well on the way to learning standard Indonesian. But the figures are massive, even in rural areas. This implies extremely rapid learning (hardly surprising for those whose mother tongue is a Malay dialect, or even a Malayic language) and familiarity with Indonesian at pre-school level, in the neighborhood and, today, most likely in the digital environnement. Here too, urban and rural areas are at odds, with the percentage of non-Indonesian speakers, again from the same group, being almost two-and-a-half times higher in rural areas (6.38%) than in urban areas (2.60%). This means that most young children grow up in a bi- or multilingual environment where Indonesian accompanies regional languages, even before they start school.
Table 4. Indonesians aged 5 to 19 who do not speak Indonesian
Age groups |
Urban |
Rural |
Total |
Boys |
Girls |
Overall |
Boys |
Girls |
Overall |
|
a. 5-9 yo |
2.75% |
2.45% |
2.60% |
6.67% |
6.08% |
6.38% |
4.28% |
b. 10-14 yo |
0.65% |
0.55% |
0.61% |
1.52% |
1.29% |
1.41% |
1.04% |
c. 15-19 yo |
0.16% |
0.12% |
0.14% |
0.40% |
0.35% |
0.38% |
0.27% |
28Generally speaking, gender differences in language skills and usage are not very marked, at least below the age of 40. Beyond that, the gap widens markedly with age, especially in rural areas, in favor of men. For the three youngest age groups (5–19), in both urban and rural areas, girls use regional languages to a somewhat lesser extent than boys. They have them (or declare them) less as mother tongues and are more Indonesian-speaking, albeit still in small proportions. In the same vein, 15 years ago Smith-Hefner (2009) has shown that young women in Java are more inclined to use Indonesian than Javanese, the former offering them better economic opportunities and social advancement, and enabling them to establish social relations on a more egalitarian level than Javanese, including within the couple (ibid.: 69). Today, however, attitudes seem to be standardizing, with the decline in regional languages being slightly more marked among boys than among girls (see Tables 1, 2 and 3, last line). In short, young women will have preceded young men in this respect.
29The decline of regional languages and its acceleration having been established, I will turn to the issue of education. While educational institutions have played a crucial role in the spread of the national language, it is now essential to assess the impact of schooling on the mother tongues of the millions of students for whom Indonesian is only a second language. The key questions that arise focus on the policies implemented by the State and local authorities, as well as the role and position of regional languages within schools.
30During the first four decades of the Republic, the emphasis was on boosting literacy and disseminating Indonesian among the Indonesian population through the school system, although “the increase of literacy in Indonesian [language] does not translate into mastery in the language” (Zein 2020: 173). Regional languages enjoyed a minimal form of recognition, without ostracism. As in colonial times, they continue to form part of the educational system, but are gradually being marginalized, as they had begun to be in colonial times.
- 12 There was a third track, entirely Dutch-speaking and reserved for the children of Europeans, but ma (...)
31The first colonial primary schools for indigenous children were opened in 1849 and offered instruction in vernacular languages such as Javanese, Sundanese, Malay, etc. Then, between 1893 and 1942, various dual systems were introduced. Within these systems, a first bilingual track including Dutch, provided access to secondary and higher education, whereas a second track, limited to primary level, offered education in vernacular languages only. In this vernacular track, however, Malay was used as the medium of instruction instead of other vernaculars in multilingual areas, in regions where Malay was dominant (North Sulawesi), or where the local vernacular was considered close to Malay (such as Minangkabau in West Sumatra) (Samuel 2005: 135-137).12
32At the beginning of the 1930s, the place of vernaculars in relation to Malay in indigenous primary schools was the subject of debate, with the colonial government wanting to reduce the place of Malay and maintain that of the vernaculars as a budgetary choice, against the demands of Indonesian nationalists (ibid.: 137). Since 1928, the latter have considered Malay—renamed “Indonesian” and referred to as the “language of unity” (bahasa persatuan)—to be the main tangible factor of national unity, over and above the mere desire to make a nation. Although the choice of vernacular languages over Malay also corresponded to the wishes of (Dutch) pedagogues of the same period (Hoffman 1995: 545), it also had a political significance and was seen as a Dutch divide-et-impera attitude by the nationalists. Whatever the case, vernaculars other than Malay remained confined to lower primary schools, with a few rare exceptions, in particular the (non-governmental) Javanese Taman Siswa schools founded in Yogyakarta in 1922 (Tsuchiya 1975).
33The Japanese occupation (March 1942-August 1945) unified the Indonesian education system, abolishing the two-track principle and ending the presence of Dutch at all levels of Indonesian schools.
- 13 I am including the latter here, as the provisions on the use of regional languages in primary schoo (...)
34As we have already seen, the 1945 Constitution allowed a place for regional languages, albeit a secondary one, but one that guaranteed (or claimed to guarantee) their preservation. This principle has always been affirmed in legislation on education, laws of 1950, 1989 and 2003.13
35The 1950 Education Law (Pres. R.I. 1950) is the most explicit on the question of regional languages. At the time, barely 46% of children aged 6 to 12 were enrolled in school and only a tiny proportion of them went on to secondary school (Kementerian 1951: [5]). The law stipulates that:
1. The language of instruction in all schools of the Republic shall be Indonesian, the language of unity. 2. Regional languages may be used as languages of instruction in kindergartens and in the first three grades of elementary school. (Pres. R.I., 1950, art. 5 and general clarification no. 9.)
36This possibility to use vernaculars is presented as a derogation from teaching in the national language, as a “compromise” based on psycho-pedagogical considerations and supposed to guarantee children’s success. As in colonial times, Malay dialects and related languages such as Minangkabau (West Sumatra) and Betawi (the Malay dialect of Jakarta), are excluded from this scheme. The wording “may be used” left a certain amount of discretion to school principals and teachers, in a context where the State’s emphasis on the spread of Indonesian came up against its very poor command in the regions, especially in rural areas. This could have been detrimental to regional languages, hence a very liberal instruction issued in 1954 to school inspectors and principals by the Director of Education at the Ministry of Education, Teaching and Culture:
The regional languages that are still taught in schools receive attention equivalent to that [given to] Indonesian. (Kementerian 1955: 172.)
37Subsequent laws (1989 and 2003) have only slightly modified the 1950 provisions, albeit in a subtly restrictive sense. The use of regional languages as a medium of instruction is limited to “the transmission of specific knowledge and/or skills” (DPR 1989, art. 42; DPR 2003, art. 33.2) and to the first two years of elementary school (DPR 2003, comments on art. 33.2). In other words, only Indonesian seems to be permitted for the teaching of general subjects. Nevertheless, the 2003 Law reflects both the concerns about the future of regional languages that have been voiced since the mid-1990s and the opening of the Reformasi period during which it was conceived (see section 4). Article 37.1 establishes the list of subjects that include languages, and the official clarification on the text specifies that
language teaching includes Indonesian, regional languages and foreign languages, whereas [...] regional languages are the mother tongues of pupils [...]. (DPR 2003, clarification on art. 37.1.)
38The break between the colonial and post-colonial periods is quite clear in terms of dominant languages: disappearance of Dutch and systematic introduction of Indonesian. This has led to the subordination of regional languages, while still partially preserving their role within the education system.
39Constitutional and legal guarantees have not put an end to all debate on the place and use of regional languages in general and in schools in particular. In the post-independance context, two priorities were the march towards modernity and the unity of the Republic, the latter carried by the national language. The small group of opponents to regional languages consider that colonialism (Alisyahbana 1933), neo-colonialism (Alisyahbana 1955) or backward-looking minds (Burhan 1976) use pedagogy as a pretext to maintain regional languages in primary education, whereas the question is political.
40Indeed, the memory of colonial attempts to fragment the young republic into a short-lived federal entity (United States of Indonesia, 1949-1950) which could be dominated by the former colonial tutelage, along with the centrifugal armed movements of the 1950s, gave rise to a form of mistrust towards regionalist velleities, readily seen as the hallmark of tribalism (Ind. sukuism) (Samuel 2000a: 316-319). This had an impact on regional languages, and echoes of it could be heard right up to the early 1990s. Regional languages were not rejected, but were to be considered only in relation to the national language. Seminars on national language policy (1974 and 1975), as well as a wide range of normative and programmatic texts (language and media laws, five-year development plans), emphasized the functions specifically assigned to regional languages (Samuel 2005: 69-73). In line with the Suharto regime’s “developmentalist” ideology, language is conceived as a tool and resource for different uses: Indonesian at national level, regional languages at provincial or local level. Therefore, P.J.W. Nababan, an Indonesian sociolinguist, sums up the role of regional languages in the education system in purely functional terms. Their roles are “integrative” within the local society and, above all, “cultural” in order to assimilate the values carried by vernacular cultures, which are primarily intended to enrich the national culture (Nababan 1991: 122). Conversely, Nababan does not attribute any “cognitive” or “instrumental” (economic) functions to these languages, which are reserved for Indonesian.
41The arguments of modernization and unity were soon joined by others, also specific to the school institution and its public. On the one hand, the question of the standard to be taught, in the case of less standardized regional languages (Hatib 1976). Secondly, the child’s own interests: as long as short schooling remains the norm, the emphasis must be placed on Indonesian, whose economic added value is considered superior to that of regional languages (ibid.).
42Despite this situation of dominance of national language, the educational policy of the first four decades of the Republic of Indonesia, as reflected in school curricula, showed more indifference than hostility towards regional languages. With the exception of the 1975 curriculum, which specifies that instruction must be given in Indonesian (Hadiatmaja et al. 1987: 15), regional languages are included in school curricula both as a language of instruction and as a subject. Surveys carried out during the same decade showed that the 1975 directives were not applied, and subsequent curricula (1984 and 1994) reverted to the previous situation (Rusyana 1999: 71; Said 1990: 131-132).
- 14 I can’t explain this mention, which is surprising to say the least.
- 15 Some add Minangkabau (West Sumatra; Zein [2020: 174]), but it seems unlikely, see above.
- 16 At that time, Indonesia consisted of 27 provinces
43While regulatory texts authorize or promote the teaching of regional languages and teaching in these languages, it is far from the case that all languages enjoy the same fate. The range of languages concerned varies considerably according to the source, but until the early 2000s and the implementation of regional autonomy, their number probably always remained below fifteen, according to the available literature. The most exhaustive list, drawn up on the occasion of a seminar on the teaching of regional languages (Denpasar, Bali, 1980) gives three Sumatran languages: Acehnese (Aceh), Batak (North Sumatra; with four dialects) and Nias (Nias Island); three Java languages: Sundanese (West Java), Javanese (Central and East Java; standard and two dialects) and Madurese (East Java); five languages of South Sulawesi: Bugis, Makassar, Mandar, Toraja and Massenreng Pulu;14 two languages of the Lesser Sunda Islands: Balinese (Bali) and Sasak (Lombok Island) (Nababan 1983: 11 and 19).15 However, the number of languages present in one way or another in schools increased between 1983 and the end of the 1990s. A partial survey reveals that 15 out of the 20 provinces16 surveyed offered regional language courses, covering 30 languages (Rusyana 1999: 72-74).
44As for resources, whether in terms of available teaching materials or the competence of regional language teachers, all are lacking, and only a few languages have the necessary tools: Acehnese, certain Batak dialects, Sundanese, Javanese, Madurese and Balinese (Nababan 1983: 16, 19-21)—unsurprisingly, the languages of Java, Bali and Madura are the best covered. Nevertheless, a certain amount of work has been undertaken, particularly in orthographic standardization (Hadiatmaja et al. 1987). At primary level, these language textbooks are designed for learning to read and write, and are aimed at native speakers (see, for example, Sahid et al. [1981a and b]).
45During the 1990s, Indonesia’s view of regional languages changed. Of course, the ideological and political framework remained the same, but peripheral temptations—autonomist rather than independentist—had almost disappeared, the national language was very firmly established. Above all, the decline of regional languages and the threat of extinction of some of them, gave rise to new concerns. These concerns are part of a broader movement among sociolinguists, of a shift in approach which began a few years earlier (Ricento 2000: 203-204).
- 17 The International Research Project on Language Planning Processes (IRPLPP, 1969–1972) co-directed b (...)
46The turn taken by the work of the sociolinguist Joshua Fishman is illuminating in this respect, particularly from an Indonesian perspective. In the mid-1960s, Fishman and others developed of a new field, language planning and policy (LPP) studies. Part of their work focusing on Indonesian,17 they were joined by an Indonesian linguist and language planner, Sutan Takdir Alisyahbana. The approaches advocated by Fishman and Alisyahbana—those of a language planning designed for the purposes of unification and modernization, and considering language as a resource—were perfectly in tune (see Samuel 2005: 33-37). A decade later, Fishman would write that he saw in the success of Indonesian a “miraculous case” (Fishman 1978: 338), that of a minority language erected, accepted and disseminated as a national language.
- 18 Other tools have been developed since: UNESCO’s scale (2003) and Expanded Graded Intergenerational (...)
- 19 The Ford Foundation also funded similar programs in other countries, notably in Africa (Spolsky 201 (...)
47Fishman, who had always been interested in minority languages (beginning with Yiddish), later addressed the question of language decline and preservation, for which he developed his Graded Intergenerational Disruption Scale (GIDS; Fishman 1991),18 and that of reversing the language shift of threatened languages (ibid.). During the same decade, the paradigm on which the first language policy studies were based was completely renewed, with increased interest in the preservation of linguistic diversity, language rights and a critique of the ideologies underpinning the language policies of previous decades. In the second half of the 1990s, these new ideas made some inroads with Indonesian sociolinguists and language planners. They then focused on the problem of the decline of regional languages, always perceived in terms of the impoverishment of the resource. It gives rise to a discourse of concern and lament, and emphasized on the need to document languages threatened with extinction, without generally taking any further action in safeguarding them (Samuel 2000a: 330).19
48In this regard, it is worth noting the evolving approach of the Ford Foundation toward language issues. This American philanthropic organization has been active in Indonesia since 1953. During the 1950s, it promoted the dissemination of English. By the late 1960s, however, it funded research programs aimed at fostering reflection on Indonesian language planning for developmental purposes. In the 1990s, the Foundation began to support and publish work on regional languages, advocating for linguistic diversity (Mohamad 2003: 15-17). Notably, the Foundation consistently employed the term Bahasa Nusantara (“languages of Nusantara” or “languages of the Archipelago,” referring to Indonesia) instead of “regional languages,” thereby symbolically blurring the hierarchical subordination of these languages to the national language (Rosidi 1999: 5).
49Finally, following the fall of the Suharto regime (1998) and during the so-called Reformasi Era (1998-2004), the establishment of effective regional autonomy is another important factor in understanding how regional languages and literatures were viewed and policies formulated (Laws no.22/1999 and 32/2004, DPR 1999, DPR 2004; Decree no.25/2000, Pres. R.I. 2000). The prerogatives in educational matters subsequently granted to the provinces and regencies were to increase. They will be responsible for managing primary and secondary schools, and will be given some leeway in terms of adapting school curricula—which will always be national—to local needs and circumstances.
- 20 Including a forthcoming law figuring in the Parliament’s 2025 legislative program (Tempo 2024).
50The 2003 Education Law introduces no significant changes regarding regional languages. Still, since 1998 numerous legal texts have expanded and modified the provisions established under the New Order in this domain,20 both at the national level and, more notably, at the local level—a development that is unsurprising in the context of the decentralization process initiated a quarter of a century ago.
51Later, at national level, the very title of the 2009 Law “on the flag, language, symbols of the State and the national anthem” (DPR 2009) is indicative of its ideological nature and lack of innovation in linguistic matters. The law is a far cry from its initial draft (Samuel 2013), and does little to broaden the prospects for regional languages. In particular, it should be noted that the provisions regarding the use of Indonesian are all mandatory, whereas those concerning the use of regional languages are purely declaratory in nature, merely acknowledging the possibility of their use. The word “right(s)” (Indon. hak) appears very rarely in the text and never pertains to regional languages. However, it is worth noting that the law mandates local (provinces, regencies) governments
to develop, enhance, and protect regional languages and literatures so that they may continue to fulfill their social positions and functions in social life according to the development of the era and in order to maintain their place within Indonesia’s cultural richness. (DPR 2009, art. 42-1.)
52This includes the allocation of resources as will be indicated by the 2014 Law on local governments, which places education at the top of their responsibilities. The management of schools and the choice of “Local Content Curricula” (see below) will therefore be the responsibility of the regencies for primary education and of the provinces for secondary education (DPR 2014, art. 12 and appendix).
53The implementing decrees of the 2009 Law, promulgated five years after the law (Pres. R.I. 2014), represent another interesting step forward for the teaching of regional languages. They stipulate that regional languages are to be taught in primary and secondary schools in the territories where they are spoken (art. 21-2-a), and that this provision applies equally to the indigenous languages of these territories, and to those of transmigrants when they are the majority in their territory of settlement. In this way, the law implicitly acknowledges that, throughout the 20th century, the geographical distribution of ethnic groups has changed due to transmigration. It also represents an embryonic form of deterritorialization of regional languages, challenging the traditional, mechanistic link between a population, its territory, and its language. However, the necessary selection of a single majority language to the detriment of all others reflects the persistent denial of complex local multilingual situations. This insistence on linguistic homogeneity within territories inevitably marginalizes local linguistic minorities, whose languages remain absent from educational institutions.
- 21 In public administration, to facilitate interactions between civil servants and the public (Pres. R (...)
54Lastly, a final Presidential Decree on the use of Indonesian more clearly defines the range of situations in which regional languages can be used, either concurrently or in place21 of Indonesian. These include educational establishments, administration, geographical names, brand and institution names, product user manuals, public signage, and media (Pres. R.I. 2019: passim).
55As for the future law on regional languages, announced in 2015, it remains on the drawing board. But its content is more or less known (DPR 2023). It is unlikely to provide any additional guarantees for regional languages, but the preparatory elements of the law present the situation of regional languages as critical. It also regrets that local authorities are not compelled to include regional languages in the teaching of “Local Content Curricula” which they are free to determine.
56The attitude of public authorities and the position of regional languages—including their status—may differ significantly at lower administrative levels. The increased autonomy granted by the 1999 Law has been accompanied by greater flexibility on the part of the State regarding the national language in its standardized form and, consequently, regional languages. In addition, the preservation and expression of local identities in a variety of dimensions has attracted increased interest at regional level (provinces and regencies). As a result, regional languages have reemerged in the public sphere through various means, including signage, advertising, airport announcements, and political communication, as well as in local regulations enacted by local executives, governors, and regents.
- 22 In this regard, the province of Aceh (located at the northern tip of Sumatra, with approximately te (...)
57The first and most ambitious of local regulations on language, issued by the Governor of West Java, designated three regional languages—Sundanese, Cirebonese (Javanese dialect of Cirebon), and Betawi (Malay dialect of Jakarta)—as the province’s second official languages (Gubernur Jawa Barat 2003), but this has had little effect on the actual use of these languages. Most decisions and regulations formulated by local executives confer special status on one or more of the province’s languages and dialects. Some recommend their use in limited ceremonial contexts and on specific days within the provincial administration. The frequent linkage between these linguistic provisions and the wearing of traditional regional dress underscores their symbolic nature.22 However, these regulations also mandate the teaching of local languages as part of “Local Content Curricula,” one of the few areas where they can be effectively implemented and enforced.
58The main innovation concerning the place of regional languages in the education system predates by just a few years the end of the Suharto regime and the introduction of greater regional autonomy from 1999 onwards. This innovation, introduced in 1994, was the establishment of “Local Content Curricula” (henceforth LCC; Indon. muatan lokal, mulok) designed in a spirit of decentralization avant la lettre, and aimed at empowering schools and the administrative structures that oversee them. The freedom conferred on education players remained modest in its ambition: two weekly teaching sessions at the primary and secondary levels, now averaging around 5% of total instructional hours. Regional languages are treated as a teaching subject, not as a medium of instruction.
59From the outset, these LCCs could take various forms, and this remains the case today. Indeed, this reform was not specifically intended for regional languages but rather aimed more broadly at teaching subjects directly related to pupils’ natural, social, and cultural environments or addressing regional needs. With the State leaving it to local authorities and schools to develop ideas, as well as secure the human and financial resources necessary for implementing LCCs, some schools simply rebranded existing subjects as ‘LCC’ (Bjork 2003: 201). While LCCs could have served as an ideal vehicle for teaching regional languages, literatures, and cultures—especially in secondary schools, where these subjects are generally absent—this has only been the case to a limited extent, and when it has, implementation has not always been optimal.
60Beyond political will alone, legal provisions concerning the languages used in the first classes of elementary school and for LCC teachings can only (attempt to) address the issue of regional languages for those which are recognized by local authorities, and if the linguistic profile of a given school population allows it.
- 23 I don’t have the figures for 2020, but the 2010 census provides the following data on the languages (...)
61The case of Lampung province (southern tip of Sumatra) is noteworthy in this regard. Since 2014, provincial regulations on LCC have mandated the teaching of the Lampung language and its own script (Gubernur Lampung 2014: art. 1 and 2). However, this language is now only regularly spoken by a minority of the population,23 due to a Javanese transmigration trend that began in the early 20th century. In this particular case, the confusion between province and ethnolinguistic group is all the more apparent as the denomination is the same.
62The issue of status also arises, as a dialect is considered subordinate to a language and is therefore not intended to be taught. Using (East Java), for instance, represents an interesting case of conflicts that may arise between different administrative levels concerning the status of a language. Speakers of Using have been fighting for decades for its recognition as a distinct language, with the support of local authorities (regencies level), who introduced it into LCC in 2007. In contrast, higher authorities (provincial and national, through the Indonesian language agency) continue to classify Using as a dialect of Javanese, which effectively excludes it from the education system (Menteri 2014; Zein 2020; Vidiyanti 2016).
63The issue of linguistic homogeneity within primary school populations is more sensitive in eastern Indonesia, where linguistic fragmentation is more pronounced. While linguistic heterogeneity in urban areas often leads to the immediate use of Indonesian, this is not necessarily the case in rural areas, where two local languages may coexist in competition. There are numerous examples of regional languages that are locally in the minority and are therefore neither used as a language of instruction at the primary level nor included in LCC at the secondary level. Examples include Konjo versus Makassar in South Sulawesi (Apristawijaya 2022), Rongga versus Manggarai in Flores (Arka 2008), among many others.
64Not all regencies choose to implement regional languages in the LCCs, and various reasons can explain this decision, regardless of available human and material resources. Shiohara demonstrated that the multiplicity of languages present (in Alor island) or the low esteem held by local authorities for local languages (in Sumbawa island) led to the choice of cultural or artistic education, imposing no linguistic prerequisites (Shiohara 2012: 112). Elsewhere, the same authorities opt for English, particularly in secondary schools (Banten; Young 2019: 162), or computing, for which they know—or think—there is greater demand.
65More problematic is the lack of interest from the target audience, especially when it comes to secondary school students. Today, regional languages are subjects with no academic stakes, losing legitimacy and sometimes simply disconnected from linguistic and sociolinguistic realities. In the case of Javanese, this applies to learning its script, which has largely fallen into disuse and been replaced by the Latin alphabet—except in local, symbolic contexts such as street names and public buildings. More significantly, it concerns the mastery of the speech level system, which is regarded as a key marker of Javanese identity, despite many pupils having little to no exposure to the higher levels outside the classroom. As a result, this teaching is, at best, ineffective and, at worst, repulsive for the younger generation:
In my experiences talking to both high school and ED [English Department] students, muatan lokal [LCC] classes had a reputation as immensely boring and as a place where students who daily spoke Javanese went to get told that they could not speak Javanese. (Zentz 2017: 109.)
Smith-Heffner makes the same observation and adds:
- 24 Krama is the name of the higher level of Javanese (showing distance and respect), as opposed to ngo (...)
[…] A surprising number of the young people in my study—even some of those who had been socialized to use krama24 in their families as children—reported consciously shifting their speech to Indonesian in interacting with their parents at some point during their school careers. (Smith-Heffner 2009: 63-64.)
66The institutional and political stakes concerning the role of regional languages in the education system have evolved over the past few decades. In a linguistic context where proficiency in the national language—albeit in a non-standard form—is widespread, these issues no longer oppose the traditional imperative of national unity to a potentially centrifugal linguistic diversity. Instead, they now oppose a new imperative of educational competitiveness, driven by globalization, to the revitalized needs of local identity. While regional languages serve the latter, the early 2000s saw the imperative of competitiveness prompt authorities to introduce a new type of school that deliberately sidelined regional languages in favor of English.
67The “pioneering schools of international standard” (Indon. Rintisan Sekolah Bertaraf Internasional, RSBI) were made possible by the 2003 Law (art. 50.3). Launched in 2006, these schools could have severely impacted the teaching of regional languages. They were primary and secondary schools, operating with increased material resources (through subsidies and, above all, family contributions) and the Ministry of Education required each regency to set up at least one such school in its territory. The RSBI owed their name largely to the use of English as the medium of instruction, alongside Indonesian, at both primary and secondary levels. Regional languages were de facto excluded.
68This initiative received triple support from the government, parliament, and the public, and by 2013, there were 1,339 RSBIs, with 57% of them located in Java (Henly 2013: IX). However, in the same year, the Constitutional Court declared the provisions of the 2003 Law that established these schools unconstitutional, effectively abolishing them. It should be emphasized, however, that the Court’s main criticism was not so much the presence of English or the exclusion of regional languages, but rather the inequality of access to these schools and the potential harm to national identity, due to the decline in the Indonesian language that they could have caused.
69Over the past two decades, new types of programs, schemes and structures have been developed and tested, though only to a very limited extent. We present now two of them, with different goals and philosophies, which give special emphasis to regional languages or are intended to do so.
70Sensitivity to endangered languages and the idea of working to safeguard them within the framework of the educational institution is not new, hence a call for bilingual education specifically aimed at saving small languages, launched over 30 years ago by a linguist from South Sulawesi (Said 1990: 133). That being said, the multiplication of cooperation programs aimed at promoting truly multilingual education and mother-tongue based education is a recent development. This reflects a growing awareness of the pedagogical value of these approaches, notably in eastern Indonesia, and the recognition of the urgent need to take action to prevent the decline of regional languages. In this context, the interest in regional languages is not expressed in terms of identity or resources, as it has been the case for decades. It also represents a new approach that views regional languages as a tool for enhancing educational outcomes (see Purba 2021). Three recent programs, all involving the Indonesian Ministry of Education are:
- The Analytical and Capacity Development Partnership (ACDP), a collaboration between Indonesia, Australia, the EU, and the Asian Development Bank, running from 2010 to 2018 (Papua) (ACDP Indonesia 2014);
- The INOVASI program, involving Indonesia and Australia, from 2016 to 2027 (East and East Nusa Tenggara, North Kalimantan, East Java) (Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade 2020);
- The Ministry of Education’s Revitalisasi Bahasa Daerah (“revitalization of regional languages”) program, launched in 2022 (Kemendikbudristek 2024b).
71And as an underlying presence, we should mention the Summer Institute of Linguistics, a faith-based (evangelical Christian) nonprofit organization active in Indonesia since 1971 and collaborating with the Ministry of Education since 1981, particularly involved in eastern Indonesia (Silzer & Pelenkahu 1992: 8).
72The choice to focus on various regions of eastern Indonesia was suggested by 1. the economic and linguistic situation of these regions correlated with school failure (in Sumba; Ghanggo Ate 2019: 2), 2. the low level of school performance for the Moluccas, East and West Nusa Tenggara and Papua, as highlighted in a national EGRA (Early Grade Reading Assessment) test organized in 2014 (Purba 2021) and 3. a PISA survey held in 2018 (Suprayitno 2019).
- 25 See for instance Pradipta & Hidajat (2024: 524); Setiawati (2022: 25); Apristawijaya (2022), URL: h (...)
- 26 One of the first “customary schools” is located on the island of Biak (province of Papua, eastern I (...)
73Finally, “customary schools” are a relatively recent and spontaneous phenomenon. Located in small rural communities across Indonesia, including Java, these non-formal schools provide traditional, predominantly practical education in fields such as agriculture, crafts, culture, religion, cuisine, and the arts, with the aim of preserving and transmitting local heritage and cultural identities. Although the language issue is not a primary focus—at least not explicitly—it is incorporated into the curriculum and used as a language of instruction.25 The very first sekolah adat appeared over fifteen years ago,26 then the movement grew slowly during the 2010s, with over a hundred such schools now in existence (123 in 2023; Tempo 2023).
74To help with their establishment and operation, sekolah adat benefit from external support, whether from Indonesian NGOs (such as Aliansi Masyarakat Adat Nusantara, or AMAN) or foreign institutions (such as the US Mission to ASEAN, which supports the Arus Kualan customary school in Ketapang prefecture, West Kalimantan province). This support is efficiently used to increase their visibility online, both nationally and internationally.27 Although customary schools offer education that complements the national school system for children who attend State schools, they have been demanding to be recognized from the Ministry of Education. Recently, they have received a form of recognition, and the Ministry has provided training programs to their administrators (118 schools involved in 2023; Kemendikbudristek 2023), enabling it to monitor their operations. In 2021, in the regency of Jayapura (province of Papua), this rapprochement went as far as the award of the innovative status of “public customary school” (sekolah adat negeri) to a local customary school of Sentani by the regent of Jayapura. This recognition guarantees that the children will be able to continue their studies at higher level in the public sector (Makabori 2024).
75In both cases, these are marginal trends, involving a very limited number of pupils. Customary schools are often established in eastern Indonesia, where multilingualism is more pronounced and speaker populations smaller than in the western part of the archipelago. Additionally, there are fewer resources available, and school failure is more pronounced. What is particularly interesting, however, is the recent attention and support these initiatives have received from the Ministry of Education.
76According to the results of the 2020 census, the percentage of mother-tongue speakers of regional languages decreased from 84.94% in the 75+ age group to 60.53% in the 5-9 age group. This decline is evident across all age groups and appears to be more pronounced among those then under 25 (currently aged 30 or younger). The drop exceeds 2% per age group. If this trend continues, speakers of regional languages could become a minority among younger generations as early as 2035, with languages other than Indonesian—the standard language and its non-standard variants—properly considered minority languages.
- 28 The growing interest in regional languages, along with the end of the Suharto regime in 1998 (Refor (...)
77In a recent book, Zein argues that Indonesia, since 1945, has been the site of a “linguistic genocide,” with regional languages (or indigenous and local languages, as he refers to them) being the victims (Zein 2020: passim). It is true that the state has long allowed regional languages to languish, but this has been more out of indifference than a deliberate desire for linguistic homogenization (let alone eradication). As a result, for decades, the education system has only accommodated regional languages as a second-best option, while acknowledging their value in terms of identity. A shift in attitude towards these languages began to be felt in Indonesia, as in other parts of the world, when their decline became evident. However, awareness of this issue had little impact on the education system, in contrast to the momentum it has generated in the radio and TV media, for example.28
78It is likely that the national education system in the most integrated regions of the Republic cannot act effectively to halt this trend, let alone reverse it. Existing schemes, unevenly spread across the country, have proved relatively ineffective. Geographical mobility and multilingualism favor standard and non-standard Indonesian and regional vehicular languages, which are often Malay-s. On the other hand, concern for the future of regional languages in outlying regions makes twofold sense: on the one hand, because these regions are also those with the greatest linguistic diversity; on the other, because of the role they could play in fostering better support for pupils in the school system.