[Dunia Book Club] Review of Elizabeth Pisani's Indonesia Etc.: Why I Love Indonesia

By Seulki Lee (DUNIA Editor-in-chief, Journalist)

How have we changed when we encounter a new culture and country? Can it be compared to the changes that occur when we meet another person and begin forming a relationship? If my encounter with a country can be compared to an encounter with another human being, my meeting with Indonesia could be described as finding a soulmate I want to spend the rest of my life with. 

My values and worldview underwent a major shift before and after encountering Indonesia. If the relationship between a foreign country and an outsider like me cannot be explained as an encounter between two individuals, how else could I describe my journey of encountering, changing because of, and ultimately falling in love with Indonesia?

The August selection for the second half of the 2026 Dunia Book Club offered an answer to this question of mine. This book, which can be translated as Indonesia Etc., is an observational travelogue exploring the mystery of how over 17,000 islands, hundreds of ethnic groups and languages, and diverse religions and cultures form a single nation called "Indonesia."

It is a book that offers far more context and stories to someone who has stepped into the lives of the locals, learned the language and culture, and lived there, rather than someone who merely visited an Indonesian city briefly for tourism or business. Between 1998 and 2005, the author lived in Indonesia working as a foreign correspondent, medical anthropologist, and infectious disease epidemiologist; this book is an exploration narrative and comprehensive report written after traveling across Indonesia — "the improbable nation" she keeps returning to — for 13 months starting in 2011.

The Paradox of "The Improbable Nation"

The book uses the expression "the improbable nation" ("the country that doesn't make sense") to describe Indonesia. It shows how difficult and unreasonable a challenge it is to bind countless disparate elements into a single nation within borders arbitrarily drawn by past colonialists. The book's title, Indonesia Etc., was derived from a speech by Sukarno, the first president of Indonesia. In his speech declaring independence from the Netherlands in 1945, First President Sukarno (1945–1967) stated, "We the people of Indonesia hereby declare the independence of Indonesia. Matters which concern the transfer of power and other things will be executed by careful means and in the shortest possible time." A population of nearly 240 million people with completely different languages, geography, religions, and cultural identities thus became a shared political and economic destiny under an independent nation named "Indonesia."

Yet, this "improbable nation" transformed me. It was the first country to give me the experience that something new and different is not uncomfortable, but enjoyable. That is why, ever since I first arrived in Indonesia on September 23, 2011, I have constantly investigated the mystery of how a nation called Indonesia continues to hold together.

The author of the book seems to have undergone a similar change. Over nearly 500 pages, traveling across nine islands from east to west, she explores the identity of the "red thread" that binds Indonesia, the ultimate champion of diversity into one. As a result, the author discovers several tough yet loosely woven threads, including the Indonesian language, religion, consumer identity, TV/radio, bureaucracy, and collectivism. The desire to overcome diverse differences, heterogeneity, and gaps is revealed not only in the founding philosophy "Bhinneka Tunggal Ika" (Unity in Diversity), but also in the lyrics of the Indonesian national anthem: "Marilah kita berseru / Indonesia bersatu" (Let us all shout / Let Indonesia unite.)

What is surprising is that one of the vital characteristics that enables Indonesia to be Indonesia is an open mind and hospitality toward what is new and foreign. Because people are already quite different from one another, distinguishing between inside and outside, or friend and foe, feels unnatural in Indonesia. Attempts to forcibly merge or eradicate differences based on rigid beliefs have invariably been fraught with violence.

The tragedies in modern Indonesian history mostly stem from attempts to separate communists from non-communists, assertions that Catholics and Muslims are inherently incompatible, or repressive measures to align and alter East Timor, Papua, and Aceh to fit an "Indonesian" ideal. Regarding this, the author notes, "A rare generosity of heart and tolerance for difference also bind the people of this bountiful land together as Indonesians."

In other words, ignorance, hostility, and hatred toward differences represent a self-destructive path that cuts the magical red thread binding Indonesia together.

Moments When the "Red Thread" Almost Snapped

The middle and latter parts of the book deal with political conflicts observed while traveling through Sulawesi, Maluku, North Sumatra, Kalimantan, Java, and Lombok. These include the blessing and curse of rich natural resources, the past and present of separatism, identities falling outside normative boundaries, racial issues, and religious extremism.

The author also traced how questions over who constitutes the "indigenous inhabitants" of a region escalate into violence in areas with diverse ethnic populations. In particular, she examines tensions among the Dayak, Malay, and Madurese peoples on the island of Kalimantan. Between 1997 and 2001, bloody clashes erupted between the Dayak and Madurese. Compounding this were transmigration policies implemented under the Suharto regime (1967–1998), which relocated large numbers of Javanese residents to other islands, leading to subsequent conflicts between Javanese migrants and indigenous populations over access to land and resources. This pattern recurred in Indonesian Papua as well.

Though the blessing of resources fills the pockets of foreign mining capital and corrupt local and central officials, local residents are alienated from their own land — a reality vividly apparent even through a traveler's eyes. At this point, South Korea cannot remain a mere bystander. This is because conflicts surrounding numerous profitable ventures conducted by major conglomerates such as Samsung, LG, POSCO, and Hyundai after entering Indonesia belong to this very issue.

In that sense, South Korea has long been one of the risks threatening to sever the magical red thread that binds Indonesia. While reports occasionally surface in domestic and international media, the conflicts arising since Korean companies and capital entered Indonesia are as widely recognized within the country as the popularity of K-pop.

For instance, the nickel smelting plant built by POSCO on Halmahera Island, the setting for Chapter 7, has raised deep concerns among Indonesian civil society and local residents since the late 2010s. Looking at the influx of South Korean EV battery companies such as LG Energy Solution and LX International, it becomes clear that Korea is not disconnected from issues like indigenous conflicts, environmental destruction, and corruption in Indonesia.

Although the author does not detail specific corporations or capital from particular nations in her book, traces of South Korea exist on every island featured in the text. If a South Korean author were to travel across Indonesia for 13 months, even more unpublicized Korea-related issues might be uncovered. Resentment and criticism toward Korea that cannot be encountered by merely visiting the capital city of Jakarta might pour forth far more heavily across the eastern and western islands of Indonesia.

Nevertheless, Indonesia's red thread has not broken. Even if foreign capital, religious fundamentalists, opportunist/authoritarian politicians, and the military attempt to sever this thread, civil society, local media, and activists within Indonesia stand to prevent it. While the author observed and presented cultural commonalities that function as a red thread in her book, perhaps the red thread binding Indonesia today is its free and critical civil society, lawyers, independent media, artists reflecting on modern history and daily reality, and their collective solidarity.

An Encounter with a Foreign Country That Completely Changes One's Life

As translator Park So-hyun noted, "Don't people say that a person can never forget an entity that expanded their world?", Indonesia reveals to me and many others that there are worlds and lives we never could have known. The translator, who first set foot in Indonesia in September 2006, returned there every year. She remarked, "The world I used to know was a predictable one that could only expand from Seoul to Japan, North America, or Europe. owever, coming to Indonesia, it expanded into the Islamic world reaching the Middle East and Africa, the Pacific island realm of the Austronesian language family, Southeast Asia, and even the vastly broader 'Third World.'" Indonesia, which author Elizabeth Pisani, translator Park So-hyun, and reader Seulki Lee keep returning to, is an entity that continuously expands one's horizon.

"Dunia" means "world" in Indonesian. The reason the name "Dunia" was first conceived when founding a non-profit independent media organization covering Asia was thanks to the experience of living in Indonesia and learning its language and culture. It would be wonderful if Dunia could also serve as a strand of the red thread that enables Indonesia to be Indonesia. I imagine Asia meeting one another through Dunia, learning about our differences, and expanding our horizons together for a long time to come. All of this stemmed from an encounter with Indonesia.

Do you, reading this now, also have a country or an encounter like this that completely changed your life?

By Seulki Lee (DUNIA Editor-in-Chief, Journalist) – skidolma@thedunia.org