Nestled in the dense rainforests of Borneo, Central Kalimantan (Kalimantan Tengah) remains one of Indonesia’s most enigmatic regions. While the world focuses on deforestation, climate change, and indigenous rights, this province’s history offers a microcosm of these global struggles. From ancient Dayak kingdoms to Dutch colonialism and modern-day palm oil conflicts, Central Kalimantan’s past is a tapestry of resilience and exploitation.
Long before European colonizers set foot on Borneo, the Dayak people thrived in Central Kalimantan. Their societies were built around adat (customary law), which emphasized harmony with nature. The Ngaju, Ma’anyan, and Ot Danum tribes, among others, established complex systems of governance, trade, and spiritual practices. The Kaharingan religion, a blend of animism and ancestor worship, shaped their worldview—one where rivers, trees, and animals were sacred.
Archaeological findings near the Kahayan and Barito rivers reveal remnants of iron tools, pottery, and gold artifacts, hinting at a sophisticated pre-colonial economy. The Dayaks traded forest products like rattan, resin, and bird nests with Chinese and Malay merchants, connecting Borneo to the broader maritime Silk Road.
The 19th century brought Dutch colonialism, which irrevocably altered Central Kalimantan’s trajectory. The Dutch sought control over Borneo’s resources, particularly timber and coal. They imposed forced labor systems (heerendiensten) and disrupted traditional Dayak governance. Missionaries arrived, pushing Christianity and marginalizing Kaharingan.
One of the darkest chapters was the Banjarmasin War (1859–1863), where Dayak and Malay forces resisted Dutch rule. Though the rebellion was crushed, it sowed seeds of anti-colonial sentiment. By the early 20th century, the Dutch had established rubber and pepper plantations, further displacing indigenous communities.
Today, Central Kalimantan is ground zero for some of the world’s most pressing issues. The province’s vast peatlands and rainforests have been decimated by palm oil plantations, mining, and illegal logging. Indonesia is the world’s largest palm oil producer, and Kalimantan’s fertile soil has made it a prime target for agribusiness giants.
In the 1990s, President Suharto launched the Mega Rice Project, aiming to convert one million hectares of peatland into rice paddies. The project was a disaster. The drained peatlands became highly flammable, contributing to annual wildfires that blanket Southeast Asia in haze. The ecological damage was irreversible, and the project was abandoned—but not before displacing thousands of Dayak families.
Despite government policies favoring corporations, Dayak communities are fighting back. Organizations like AMA Kalimantan (Aliansi Masyarakat Adat Kalimantan) advocate for land rights and sustainable development. In 2020, a landmark court ruling recognized the customary forests of the Dayak Iban tribe, setting a precedent for indigenous land claims.
Climate activists also highlight Central Kalimantan’s role in global carbon sequestration. The province’s peatlands store massive amounts of CO₂, making their preservation critical for mitigating climate change. International NGOs are working with local groups to promote agroforestry and eco-tourism as alternatives to destructive industries.
Central Kalimantan stands at a crossroads. The provincial government promotes infrastructure projects like the Trans-Kalimantan Highway, aiming to boost trade and connectivity. Yet, these projects often ignore indigenous voices and environmental costs.
Some communities are turning to ecotourism to preserve their heritage. The Tanjung Puting National Park, home to orangutans and proboscis monkeys, attracts global visitors. Dayak longhouses (betang) are being restored as cultural centers, offering immersive experiences in traditional music, dance, and crafts.
Meanwhile, younger Dayaks are using social media to reclaim their identity. Hashtags like #SaveKalimantan and #DayakPride go viral, merging ancient traditions with modern activism.
China’s growing influence in Indonesia adds another layer of complexity. Chinese-backed nickel and coal mines are expanding in Kalimantan, often with little regard for environmental regulations. While these investments bring jobs, they also deepen dependency on extractive industries—a cycle Central Kalimantan must break to ensure a sustainable future.
Central Kalimantan’s history is a testament to survival. From the Dayak kingdoms to colonial exploitation and modern-day environmental battles, this region embodies the tension between progress and preservation. As the world grapples with climate change and indigenous rights, Kalimantan’s story serves as both a warning and a beacon of hope.
The choices made here will echo far beyond Borneo’s borders. Will Central Kalimantan become a model for sustainable development, or another casualty of unchecked globalization? The answer lies in the hands of its people—and the world watching.