The Aped Crusader
There is a law in Indonesia stating no industrial plantations can convert primary or high conservation value forest into monoculture, generally millions of West African oil palm (Elaeis guineensis Jacq) planted in an endless procession across the landscape, like green oil derricks.
The scale is hard to imagine. The area under oil palm plantations in Indonesia grew 35 fold between 1967 and 2005, and now covers about 21,000 square miles, mostly in Riau, South Sumatra, North Sumatra, West Kalimantan, Jambi and Central Kalimantan provinces. By 2020, another 27,000 to 31,000 square miles will be planted tapping into the gushing price for oil, producing Crude Palm Oil, which can be turned into food, cosmetics or biofuel.
Standing in the way of this is Hardi Baktiantoro. Given that he's arrayed himself against one of Indonesia's most powerful industries, he’ll be a lonely figure against the vast clout of oil palm firms. Hardi started the Centre for Orangutan Protection. He speaks quietly without dramatics, pausing before issuing each sentence. When his words are delivered, they are biting, humorous, and absolute. There's precious time for doubt when you're trying to saving a species like orangutans.
"It's a nightmare," he says of the dead orangutans he saw working in the plantations of Borneo. "I do not have enough compassion to see this cruelty. I have to stop the root of the problem."
Hardi worked for one year with an orangutan rehabilitation sanctuary, rescuing 265 animals in 2006 alone, which he says represents as many as 20,000 killed in the wild (other studies have put the ratio of rescued to dead at 1:5, meaning 1,500 orangutans in this case). Plantations generally cut and bulldoze the trees, grading the land and scraping it clear of any vegetation besides the newly planted oil palm. Orangutans often do not escape. One plantation worker Hardi met said he had killed 40 orangutans himself, and he laments he even spent one year rehabilitating them, instead of saving them.
"It's like you're mopping a wet floor, but the leak from the roof is still coming," he says. "So I quit."
With funding from British NGOs and individuals around the world, he began advocating a strategy of getting the story out by any means -- which often includes deceiving plantations about why they have entered their land using disguises such as land surveyor or journalists. They document the destruction and put public and legal pressure on the plantation companies, some among the largest such firms in the world.
"We compile evidence of the crime and expose it to the public," says the director of the Centre for Orangutan Protection, whose newest car, a menacing black Mitsubishi land cruiser called The Aped Crusader, will be making its debut in Bali this month. "Sometimes we cannot prove it is a crime, but we can still prove it’s cruel. And we tell people, and we stop the companies."


