Evolution and Revolution Telapak: Seeking Natural Resource Justice for Communities



Evolution and Revolution

Telapak: Seeking Natural Resource Justice for Communities

Maria Radyati with Sandi Merwanto, Center for Entrepreneurship, Change and Third Sector at Trisakti University From investigative journalism to sustainable logging — and now advising the world’s largest companies on community engagement — Telapak has been unwavering in its mission for an environmentally conscious Indonesia.

The modern Indonesian state was founded on the basis of Pancasila: five principles that underpin the country’s philosophy of governance. Combining concepts of faith, humanitarianism, unity, democracy, and social justice, Pancasila has persisted since the country’s independence in 1945 as a roadmap for national life that is distinctly Indonesian.


For Khusnul Zaini, president of Telapak, Pancasilasuccinctly captures the approach that has guided the organization that was founded in 1997 by a group of friends with a concern for the environmental cost of rampant logging and the livelihoods of local communities dependent on the area’s natural resources.

Telapak began life as a group of young activists, conducting investigations on illegal logging activities and raising awareness of the detrimental effects on the environment and local communities. When the mainstream media failed to broadcast their findings, they set up a local radio station to do so, followed by a television station in subsequent years.


Realizing that their reportage alone was not changing the lives or behavior of the local farmers, Telapak turned its attention to helping poachers who were forced to earn income through illegal logging. Members of the team embedded themselves within local communities and promoted cooperative models for sustainable logging as an alternative livelihood. Then, with its rich experience of working on the ground, Telapak took to advising private-sector organizations on how to work with communities in a sustainable way. In this journey, Telapak has shifted from investigating environmental and social injustice toward finding solutions. “History has shown us that investigation and criticizing the government alone is not enough,” said Zaini. “So we now have to become part of the solution.” This pivot has paid off for Telapak, which has since assisted the development of dozens of sustainable logging cooperatives, and it has implemented numerous development projects to help communities protect and benefit from their environmental resources. The product of a 2001 merger between Ambrosius Ruwindrijarto, who had co-founded Telapak in 1997 to report on illegal logging and Silverius Oscar Unggul, a community organizer, it has received awards for its work in social entrepreneurship from both Schwab Foundation and Skoll Foundation, and was recognized by the magazine Conde Nast Traveler for its environmental work. In 2012, Ruwindrijarto won the Ramon Magsaysay Award for Emergent Leadership for “creating entrepreneurial ways for community-based natural resource management.”

DRIVING PRINCIPLES With these accolades, Telapak has come a long way from its humble roots in the forests of South Sulawesi, where current vice-president Unggul developed an appreciation for the environment through their love of hiking. “After we had climbed a mountain, we would be served delicious food by the families who lived in the nearby village, because they could catch fish from the sea and rear chicken in the forest. We really enjoyed those moments,” he recalled. This changed suddenly upon the arrival of commercial timber companies in the mid-1990s, whose activities depleted the forests at an unprecedented scale and speed.

In 1997, a group of citizens including Ambrosius Ruwindrijarto, the late Hapsoro, Rita Mustikasari, Abi Valentinus, Muhammad Imran Amin and Hermanto Effendi — established a non-profit foundation (yayasan) in Bogor, West Java, called Telapak, which translates from Bahasa Indonesian to “footprint,” “The metaphor is that of climbing a mountain, and that our footprint should serve as guidance for future climbers to achieve the end destination,” explained Zaini. The next year, members of the group began an investigation in South Konawe, located in the Southeast Sulawesi province, using hidden cameras and audio recording devices to collect information.

Subsequently, Telapak partnered with an international non-profit, the Environmental Investigation Agency (EIA), to conduct an undercover investigation on the extent of illegal logging in protected areas of Central Kalimantan in which they identified the players involved. They published the findings in a 1999 report, “The Final Cut,” which describes the collusion of individuals from the police, military, and the forestry department with local timber barons and middlemen. Their findings were nothing short of a damning indictment of the illicit logging industry. Yet not a single media company approached was willing to broadcast Telapak’s revelations, fearing a backlash from those with vested interests in illegal logging. Despite threats and intimidation from those whose interests were threatened by the group’s investigations, the team members were undeterred.

ENTER THE MEDIA INDUSTRY Unggul and his hiking partners, including Wawan Sofijan, Ramadhan Possumah, Isra Minsar Tamburaka, Sumardin, Mitzan, Azis Hamid, and Muchlis L Usman were also eyewitnesses to the devastation of illegal logging, where thousands of hectares of forest were destroyed within a year, causing immediate suffering to the local communities reliant on the forests.


“They could no longer get food from the natural resources even for their own families,” said Unggul, who is also known as Onte. “There were many floods and landslides as the forests became destroyed. This created direct damage to the society.” Initially, Onte and his friends had tried to halt illegal logging through more piecemeal efforts such as pouring sand in the gasoline tanks of the chainsaws used by the loggers, or sticking nails in tree trunks to impede their progress. But recognizing that their actions were rash and ineffective, the group decided to change tack: they would shine a light on the issue by exposing the facts on the illicit logging business.

In 1998 this group of like-minded individuals set up a non-government organization focused on the environment, Yascita Yayasan. It became a member of Telapak in 1999, partnering on various environmental advocacy campaigns. In 2000, Onte and his peers established an independent radio station — Suara Alam or “Voice of Nature.” “We started with just an intention, as we didn’t have people amongst us with the relevant electronic skills or background,” he said. “Because we didn’t have much money, we combined our pocket money and built a very simple broadcaster. We hung the antenna in a mango tree that lifted it as the tree grew in height,” he recalled. They began broadcasting their findings from their makeshift radio station, hoping that local people would stumble upon their frequency and tune in. They attracted the attention of the Indonesian Biodiversity Foundation, also known as Kehati Yayasan, a grant-giving body. The foundation initially asked the group to make and disseminate posters to campaign for the preservation of natural resources and prevention of illegal logging. But the team had a counterproposal for Kehati: it offered to create what they called an “electronic campaign,” building small radio receivers to be distributed to the community, thereby expanding the audience for Suara Alam. With the support of Kehati, they built one thousand small radio receivers from plastic, in which they locked in the frequency of their radio station and distributed them free of charge to the community. “In this way people didn’t have any choice but to listen to our radio and the campaign!” laughed Onte. With this rare success as a non-governmental organization that owned a radio station, they began to draw attention from other foundations and funders interested in supporting their cause.

A GUARDIAN ANGEL One of these came in the form of a mysterious stranger who showed up without warning at the remote Suara Alam headquarters. A taxi driver in the area had his radio set to the station, which at the time was broadcasting a campaign message for the conservation of turtles, which were under threat from the lucrative trade in turtle products for medicines and food. Upon hearing the broadcast, the passenger asked the driver to take him to the radio station, which was situated way off the main road. Dutchman Willie Smits, director and founder of the Gibbon Foundation (now the Borneo Orangutan Survival Foundation) trekked up to the radio station alone, much to the surprise of the team. “He was surprised to find out that we only had very simple and humble radio instruments, but that the quality of the broadcast was very good,” recalled Onte. “We all laughed and explained to him that the reason must be because the antenna was in high position, hanging on top of that mango tree, and the weather at that time was clear.” Smits requested a meeting with the team immediately, during which he asked what he could contribute. Suara Alam requested a new microphone, because the one it was using sometimes electrocuted the broadcaster’s lips due to a short circuit. “Is that it?” asked Smits. The team were afraid to take advantage of the kindness of a stranger. But Smits was insistent and pressed them to share Suara Alam’s needs, which included a broadcaster, mixer, and a small studio.

Smits asked for a cost estimate. Onte phoned a friend with knowledge of electronics in Jakarta for a quote of several brands and showed it to Smits, who holds a doctorate in electronics. He immediately picked the most expensive, original brand option, clearly taken with Suara Alam and its mission. Over tea and coffee, Smits pressed the staff on their aspirations beyond local radio. This had been a regular topic of discussion prior to Smit’s unexpected arrival. “If we can build a radio station, then we should be able to build a television station,” said Onte. Upon hearing this, Smits again asked for a quote. He agreed to fund the equipment for a new television station to the tune of US$30,000, and to wire the funds to the team on Monday; it was Saturday, and Smits was on his way to Jakarta. Smits asked the team to drop him off to the airport. Upon hearing that they did not own a car, he offered to buy them a jeep if they could acquire one and drive him to the airport within two hours. The team found a vehicle they could purchase and dropped off their new benefactor in time for his flight. Within one afternoon, they had received a commitment for funds to upgrade their radio station, establish a television station, and secure a new car. On Monday morning, the bank called Onte to inform him of a large transfer from Jakarta totaling IDR400,000,000 (around US$40,000 at the time). Kendari TV was in business.

ROM AUDIO TO VISUAL When the Suara Alam team bought the equipment for Kendari TV, they were trained on how to operate it by the suppliers. The primary challenge for the team was to create content for broadcasting with a very limited budget. They started with what they called “community-based programs,” where local residents were invited to participate and submit content to Kendari TV. Actors were asked to play themselves in community-based short films that tackled current social issues, while viewers were invited to send in home videos of ceremonies and celebrations to generate content for a program titled “Family of Kendari Video.”

The Kendari TV team also set up a booth at a local mall, where passers-by could pay a small fee to record a minute-long video message for broadcasting: this included birthday and anniversary greetings and people expressing opinions on anything from the weather to climate change. For the cooking show “Family Recipe,” they encouraged viewers to share their favorite recipes and sent a television crew to people’s homes to record footage. They also created a program called “Blood Bank,” where potential blood donors were asked to submit their blood type and contact details. When a need for an urgent blood transfusion arose, the Kendari TV crew would call a match and provide transportation to the hospital.

Kendari TV also had a classified program, where people could submit short videos to advertise goods for sale. Ratings shot up, as people told their friends and families to tune in to watch them and see their messages. As well as being cost effective, these content strategies improved the sharing of information and enhanced social cohesion. In this sense, the Kendari TV crew became a part of the community, as it facilitated interactions and recorded daily life. At one point, around 70 percent of people in the area had watched Kendari TV, while 80 percent had listened to Suara Alam, according to market research they had conducted.

REVISITING THE FORESTRY ISSUE Having successfully created an alternative to the mainstream media in Kendari, Onte took stock. Despite success in raising awareness on environmental issues, little progress was being made to stop deforestation or halt illegal logging. Given the entrenchment of illegal logging interests, many local farmers were forced to continue their practice despite the lingering threat of being caught. Stealing wood and selling it on to the timber barons was the only way to make a living for farmers who needed to feed their families, and unable to harvest sufficient yields on their own land.

Yascita, the organization Onte had co-founded would become collective owners of the Telapak Association when Telapak Yayasan restructured from a foundation into a membership association in 2001. Ruwindrijarto joined forces with Onte with a shared belief— if they could introduce farmers to a new way of earning a living that was on the right side of the law, they would be interested. “As environmentalists, we figured out that illegal logging activities had been mushrooming in many areas in Indonesia,” said Ruwindrijarto who well knew the impact that industry was wreaking on the forest and its inhabitants. “The main cause was poverty and high demand from the construction, furniture, and hotel industries.” As an alternative to industry demand, Ruwindrijarto and Unggal would work together to promote community-based logging and sustainable resource management under the new umbrella of Telapak as an association.

Telapak had learned of the Forest Stewardship Council (FSC) certification, which is granted by the non-profit organization to forest owners and managers who meet set criteria for sustainability. Drawing inspiration from these principles, Telapak developed its own system of sustainable community logging that was also rooted in local wisdom. It consisted of a set of rules for documenting logs so that they could be traced back to farm owners, down to which part of the tree the log was taken from and the diameter of the host tree. Alongside these were directives for a community enterprise system, cutting times, conflict resolution, and a rotating schedule for farmers to sell logs, among other aspects. It was by no means a simple system, but it would help farm owners operating under it to gain the FSC certification, which meant they could export logs at higher prices to the likes of Europe and the United States.

Given the complexity of the community logging system and the efforts required to be compliant, Telapak realized from the beginning that it would be difficult to convince farmers to join. To do so, they would have to gain the trust of farmers who were resorting to illegal logging. The Telapak team embedded themselves with the farmers: stealing wood with them, running from the authorities, and becoming part of their community in what the Center for Entrepreneurship, Change and Third Sector at Trisakti University has called the “stakeholder diffusion” method. Having gained the trust of the farmers, Telapak was able to have meaningful conversations with them on the benefits of a cooperative. In one exchange with a farmer, Onte learned that they earned around IDR600,000 (some US$60 at the time) per cubic meter for selling wood to middlemen as opposed to IDR2,000,000 (US$200 at the time) for selling directly to the city. Lacking the funds to transport wood to urban areas, the farmers were simply not able to capitalize on higher prices.

Despite Telapak’s efforts, the complexity of the sustainable community logging system deterred most of the 700 farmers approached. But the suggestion of setting up a cooperative to allow farmers to pool resources and access new markets resonated with a handful of them. With the seven who were interested, the Telapak team became facilitators, training the farmers on how to follow the process. This initially ruffled the feathers of local actors such as the timber barons and police, who initially arrested the cooperative farmers while they were transporting wood to the city. The chairman of the cooperative and several farmers were jailed for one night before reporters from Suara Alam Radio and Kendari TV arrived at the police station to investigate the motives for the arrests. Being unable to answer the reporter’s questions, the policemen released the farmers. Telapak followed up with the policemen, who upon understanding the benefits to local farmers and the community became supporters of the initiative going forward. Telapak has since expanded its operations, helping farmers to build successful community logging businesses in regions such as East Java (Tulungagung Regency), Lampung, North Sulawesi, South Sulawesi, Riau, and Yogyakarta. Koperasi Wana

Lestari Menoreh (KWLM) in the Kulon Progo Regency of Yogyakarta Province is an example of how community logging initiatives supported by Telapak have the potential to scale up and change lives. Initiated by then-president Ruwindrijarto, Telapak teamed up with Yabinma, an established microfinance lending cooperative that already worked with local farmers. Together, they set up KWLM as a vehicle for sustainable logging activities, getting the necessary permits from local government and training communities on how to plant, nurture, and harvest teak, mahogany, albasia, and sonokeling wood in a sustainable way.

Today, KWLM covers 800 hectares of forest and has 1,400 members — up from 375 members in 2010, winning the British Council’s nationwide Community Entrepreneur’s Challenge in 2013. Most important, it has had a direct impact on the lives of local farmers, who are able to sell FSC-certified wood at a price that is 15-20 percent above that of non-certified wood in the domestic market. For every tree that is felled by KWLM members, ten are replanted, helping to mitigate the impact of logging on the precious ecosystem of the KulonProgo forest. “Now the community is aware of the importance of caring for the environment,” said KWLM chairman Windratmo. “This is because Telapak helped us to build a system for sustainability by introducing a cutting schedule.” Over time, the economic benefits of sustainable logging have become evident to the community members. “Before we received mentoring and support from Telapak, the community always cut down trees whenever they needed money and sold it to the middle-man who paid a low price,” said Windratmo. “Now they sell the trees to the cooperative and receive a fair price.”

KWLM members now have access to a wide range of buyers willing to purchase sustainable wood at a fair price through a website that sells sustainable wood. “We can manage our family budget, because we know how much we will get based on the size and characteristics of our wood,” he said. “Now I can pay tuition fees for my kids, and household income has increased by about 120 percent.” Alongside community logging, Telapak has expanded its support to other areas. It is teaching local fishermen in Bali, Belitung, and Wakatobi in Southeast Sulawesi of the benefits of sustainable fishing. In Wakatobi, Telapak works with local stakeholders to build awareness about the importance of the marine ecosystem and its importance to the local economy, interacting with local fishermen to educate them about the destructive effects of dynamite fishing on the coral reefs. Another marine-related activity is taking place in Bali’s “Les Village,” where Telapak has helped the local community to create a coral adoption program, where tourists donate money to plant coral in shallow waters that are tagged with their names. This initiative links the health of the coral reefs and the sea with the success of the program, directly incentivizing the community to refrain from polluting the sea.


A MEMBERSHIP ORGANIZATION Telapak’s membership remains central to its authority and credibility as one of Indonesia’s leading community development organizations. As of the end of 2015, it comprised 268 local leaders dispersed throughout 27 provinces in Indonesia. The group is diverse and experienced, including teachers, activists, entrepreneurs, medical doctors, farmers, lawyers, civil servants, house of representative members, fishermen, and medicine men among their ranks. Members are tasked with implementing Telapak’s development programs and working with local communities towards natural resource justice.

Prospective candidates for membership undergo a challenging process that lasts between two and three years, in which they are observed for leadership potential before they are formally invited to undergo compulsory training to join Telapak. According to Zaini, this is how members demonstrate their commitment to the organization’s vision and values. “Members of Telapak are proud to be invited to be part of an organization that mobilizes the movement for protecting and managing natural resources sustainably,” he said. There is an even more rigorous process for members who wish to join the board. Candidates must complete a two-year community project even to be considered, while the president of Telapak is selected in a conclave-style election every four years, with prospective candidates making the decision in a closed-door session through debate and peer review.

Telapak’s members represent the best and the brightest of Indonesia’s local leaders, who are personally motivated to spread the message of natural resource justice and carry out Telapak’s mission within their own communities. “This is because our vision and mission are related to managing natural resources fairly and with justice, where the community is the key actor,” said Zaini.


“We believe in the community.”

Muhamad Juaeni, also known as Win, remembers how proud he was to be nominated as a member of Telapak in 2010.

He had initially learned about the organization from its website, from which he could see that Telapak’s values were very much in line with his own. Alongside compulsory training to fully understand Telapak’s vision, mission, and programs, Win was assigned a three-month project to build a community organization in East Lombok Region for sustainable community logging activities. Win successfully helped to establish a cooperative, Koperasi Bintang Muda (KBM), which now has more than 60 members and is in the process of acquiring FSC credentials. He was formally approved as a Telapak member in 2012, after two years of training and testing. But it was all worth it for Win, now a supervisory board member of KBM, for the privilege of joining the illustrious Telapak network. “By becoming a member, I feel part of a big family. I have met new brothers and sisters from many different regions in Indonesia with very diverse backgrounds,” he said. “We work hand-in-hand to create communities’ economic independence, prosperity, well-being, and to strengthen local wisdom.” As part of the Telapak network, members benefit from the support of their fellow members.

In the past, this has taken the form of financial aid — ten children of members who have passed away received scholarships — or peer support. If a member is running for elected office, then Telapak can make use of its network to support their campaign, as was the case when Onte ran to become mayor of Kendari in 2011. During his campaign, members from all over the country helped with fundraising, campaigning, and broadcasting through Telapak media channels. “We always support our members who are running elections for government positions or to be part of any political party with the hope they can influence others for the betterment of the society and have authority to make our system applied in many sectors,” said Zaini. Today, Telapak has two members who are part of the legislative body in South Sulawesi and one member in Makassar.

CREATING “WIN-WINS” Since 2007, Telapak has sought to further develop the capacity of its members for community problem-solving. Some members undertook a Masters in Management in Corporate Social Responsibility (MM-Sustainability) at Trisakti University, where participants were exposed to people and ideas from the corporate sector. Six Telapak members have attended the program at Trisakti University, learning about aspects of management that have since benefited the organization. For example, through their classes on international finance, Telapak students came to understand the dynamics of foreign exchange and were shocked to realize the high cost of U.S.-dollar loans relative to their income in Indonesian rupiah. The affiliation with Trisakti University would fundamentally change the organization’s thinking. “Before I joined the program, I always thought that we were the only heroes who cared for the community, and that profits were sinful,” said Onte. “Following many discussions with my classmates from different sectors, I found that they also cared about the community.” He saw that it was possible for the objectives of the community and companies to be in alignment, and began to explore models and solutions for working with the private sector that were collaborative rather than adversarial.


“This is an important part of our strategy to find solutions for community problems: to engage with the community, private sector, and government to find a solution together,”

said Onte.

The training they received has helped Telapak’s staff to become fluent in the language of the private sector, and today, they apply their skills to help companies with their community engagement strategies by conducting “social investigations” for private-sector, domestic, and multinational organizations. “Everything must start with an investigation, but now in a different form — with the purpose of mapping the needs of the society and local wisdom, which we call social investigation,” said Zaini. Telapak has emerged as an advisor and consultant on community issues, helping to guide private-sector entities in the forestry, farming, mining, and other extractive industries on how best to work with communities in the areas in which they are operating.

In 2015, Telapak began working with one of the world’s largest technology companies to assist it with ensuring that its metal sourcing in Indonesia was done in a socially and environmentally sound manner. Working with artisanal miners in Bangka Belitung Province, Telapak conducted an investigation on livelihood conditions. And through its local expertise and network, it was able to access valuable data and share new ideas for a more sustainable approach to mining in the area. It has been so successful that Telapak was invited to partner with the company to develop a program to promote sustainable livelihoods within communities. The client has even suggested that this system could be applied to another ten countries from which it sourced metals.

LESSONS AND CHALLENGES Even before the widespread adoption of social media, Telapak had tapped into the need for people to connect with others. The participation of Kendari residents in creating content for Telapak’s radio and television broadcasts foretold the explosion of internet platforms such as Facebook and You-Tube, where people could share information and aspirations with those in their circles and the wider public. The participation of the local community was key to the success of Suara Alam Radio and Kendari TV, which remain important channels for Telapak in communicating messages and information that can empower the local community.

Telapak has evolved significantly since it’s early days, but the community remains at the heart of it’s proposition. “What is important to us is not to change anything good in the community,” said Zaini. “We must respect their local wisdom.” This attitude and proximity to the local community have allowed Telapak to gain the trust of farmers and educate them on the merits of adopting sustainable forestry practices. Research and local knowledge remain core to Telapak’s mission; it retains a printing business and video production house, which continue to produce content that highlights environmental and social injustices and documents the history and culture of indigenous groups. Now, its members are able to use their local knowledge and Telapak’s expertise to advise private-sector clients on adopting best practices for community engagement. As its activities have expanded over the years, The organizational model of Telapak has also evolved and become more complicated. Zaini describes today’s Telapak as a hybrid, incorporating a broad range of social and economic activities and interests into its remit. “We are like an alien organization, considering the diversity of our activities,” he joked. Telapak became a member-based association in 2001 due to Indonesian laws that prevented members from owning a foundation. Upon commencing its activities in community logging, Telapak set up a number of cooperatives as vehicles for the local farmers, followed by two businesses under which its media and hospitality businesses operate. While the sprawling organizational model accommodates the diverse social and business interests of its members, it remains complicated and presents a challenge to Telapak for establishing coherence. Onte observed that aligning internal agendas across the various entities remains difficult. Financial sustainability is an ongoing challenge.

Telapak receives funds from external grant-givers empowerment in Raja Ampat, Papua — it is now more cautious, and requests funds based on the needs of community stakeholders and only from grant-givers who see Telapak as a strategic partner. For the senior leadership, the transition of Telapak from being donor-oriented, to an organization that is is self-reliant and entrepreneurial has been challenging and is still underway. Rather than be yoked to administration, Telapak’s way from the very beginning has been to go out and get things done, even in the face of resistance. “What we protest, we build,” said Onte. “We protested the mainstream media, and we built a media business. We protested about the deforestation, so we built a sustainable logging community. Our motto is ‘just do it’.” Given the spontaneous nature of many of its activities, Telapak has often used organic indicators to gauge the impact of its engagements. “We (sometimes) measure achievements by assessing the attitude of communities that we assist,” said Zaini, citing the community paying for shared meals following Telapak meetings and a growing number of requests for assistance as indicators of success. But as the organization takes on more private- sector and multinational clients, there is new demand for quantitative measurements of progress and impact — an exercise that Telapak’s leadership worries could be self-limiting and alienate the very people whose trust they are seeking. “We don’t want to be arrogant by telling people how much impact we have created to the community,” said Zaini. Yet, little attention to tracking output and measuring impact means that Telapak remains dependent on an honor system, with few accountability mechanisms in place. It also lends to a lack of documentation, with implications for institutional memory.

OUTLOOK Today, Telapak derives an ever greater proportion of its revenue from conducting social investigations on behalf of global mining interests and communication companies, advising them on how to operate in ways that are least disruptive and most beneficial to local communities. By working with business, Telapak hopes to minimize the disruption that corporate activities have on communities and change their behavior over time.


“They will ask the community what would be the preferable solutions to solve their problems,”

said Zaini.


By finding “win-win” solutions, Telapak hopes to bridge the gap between the community and the company, and for community engagement to become standard practice for businesses operating in Indonesia. But at the same time, Telapak must face up to and resolve the inherent tensions that exist between the commercial instincts and the social objectives of any social enterprise. Though Telapak now works collaboratively with companies from industries it has criticized in the past, it seeks to maintain it’s independence, credibility, and a “pro-society” approach to the work it undertakes. To do so, it will work only with potential partners and clients who agree not to interfere with the investigation process or in Telapak’s formulation of solutions.

Telapak’s quest for natural resource justice is ambitious and one that will be made even more challenging as Indonesia continues to industrialize. More stress will be placed on the environment, and more communities will be faced with challenging decisions related to natural resource management. Like Indonesia itself, Telapak will need to continue to evolve and change with the times while staying true to its founding principles of faith, humanitarianism, unity, democracy, and social justice.

*This case was made possible by the generous support of Husodo Angkosubroto. Editorial assistance provided by CAPS project director Manisha Mirchandani. CAPS ( Centre for Asian Philanthropy and Society)

Source : http://asiacps.org/documents/CAPS_CS_Telepak.pdf

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