Close Menu
Market Data Newsletter
Monday, June 22
Global Free Speech

CPJ, FPU report exposes serious flaws in Indonesia’s investigation of journalist’s murder

News RoomBy No Comments4 Mins Read862 Views
CPJ, FPU report exposes serious flaws in Indonesia’s investigation of journalist’s murder

Listen to the article

0:00
0:00

New York/Amsterdam, June 22, 2026—Ahead of the second anniversary of a deadly arson attack on Indonesian journalist Rico Sempurna Pasaribu and his family, a new investigation by the Committee to Protect Journalists (CPJ) and Free Press Unlimited (FPU) has uncovered major flaws in the murder case that highlight the Southeast Asian nation’s poor record of ending impunity for crimes against journalists.

The joint report, “Impunity in Indonesia: The leads left unfollowed in journalist Rico Sempurna Pasaribu’s murder,” reveals authorities’ numerous investigative failures, raising questions whether full justice was achieved with the conviction of three men for the arson in March 2025.

Pasaribu, a journalist with news site Tribrata TV, was killed with his wife, son, and grandson inside their home in Kabanjahe, North Sumatra, on June 27, 2024. Before the arson attack, the 47-year-old received threats and demands he take down a series of stories he wrote about an illegal gambling operation allegedly run by Corporal Herman Bukit, a soldier with the Army’s 125th battalion stationed in the town.

CPJ and FPU call on Indonesian police to reopen the investigation of the case, with a focus on the alleged involvement of Bukit.

“The brutal murder of journalist Rico Sempurna Pasaribu and his family is a heinous crime,” said Beh Lih Yi, Asia-Pacific director at the Committee to Protect Journalists. “It adds to long-standing concerns about journalists’ safety, and that Indonesia’s military justice system is failing to deliver accountability. Indonesian authorities must now reopen the investigation into Pasaribu’s murder and try any military personnel involved in a civilian court. Impunity for crimes against journalists has no place in a democracy like Indonesia.”

“Two years ago, Rico Sempurna Pasaribu and his family were burned alive, and yet we are still waiting for all the answers,” said Jules Swinkels, senior researcher at Free Press Unlimited. “Indonesia’s military justice system ensures that any possible involvement of military personnel is not independently investigated. We urge the Indonesian authorities to move the case to a civilian court, where public transparency and accountability are more attainable than within the closed mechanism of the military justice system.”

Drawing on court documents, military investigation files, and witness testimonies — as well as interviews with individuals close to the case — the report found substantial evidence that Bukit should be thoroughly investigated and face justice accordingly for his alleged role in Pasaribu’s murder.

The report reveals substantial evidence linking Bukit to the illegal gambling business at the center of the case, to meetings with the main perpetrator of the arson Bebas Ginting, and to pressure Pasaribu faced for his reporting. Yet police never questioned the soldier as a person of interest. 

A military investigation that cleared Bukit of alleged involvement in the murders was excessively narrow in scope, full of inconsistencies, and lacked transparency, the report shows. Military investigators ignored witness testimony and were not transparent in their assessment of evidence, including a phone call recording in which Ginting told Pasaribu’s daughter he “got an order” from Bukit.

The report also shows that authorities neglected clear indications that Pasaribu was targeted for his coverage of illegal gambling. In the days leading up to his killing, Pasaribu received threats and demands from Bukit and Ginting that he take down his stories, which he reported to friends, colleagues, and a high-ranking police officer. Yet none of those tasked with administering justice in the case ever seriously investigated them. Investigators also failed to take into account all available evidence, including the forensic examination of cellphone communications and analysis of financial flows between all persons of interest in the case.

The North Sumatra Regional Police and the Military Regional Command I/Bukit Barisan did not respond to questions about the report’s findings.

Since 1992, 14 journalists have been killed in Indonesia, and eight of the nine cases in which journalists have been murdered in direct reprisal for their work remain unsolved. Impunity has become entrenched worldwide, with four out of five killers of journalists getting away with murder. If anyone is held accountable, it is usually those who are paid to do the job and rarely the masterminds.

About the Committee to Protect Journalists (CPJ):

The Committee to Protect Journalists is an independent nonprofit organization that promotes press freedom worldwide and defends the right of journalists to report the news safely and without fear of reprisal.

Media contact: [email protected] or [email protected]

About Free Press Unlimited (FPU):

Free Press Unlimited is a non-profit press freedom organization based in Amsterdam, the Netherlands that helps local journalists in conflict areas to provide their audience with independent news and reliable information. By supporting local media professionals, Free Press Unlimited seeks to support the enabling of a sustainable, professional, and diverse media landscape.

Media contact: [email protected] 

Note to editors:

Spokespeople are available for interviews in Indonesian, English and Dutch.

Read the full article here

Fact Checker

Verify the accuracy of this article using AI-powered analysis and real-time sources.

Share.

The FSNN News Room is the voice of our in-house journalists, editors, and researchers. We deliver timely, unbiased reporting at the crossroads of finance, cryptocurrency, and global politics, providing clear, fact-driven analysis free from agendas.

Related Articles

Global Free Speech

(An illustration by Semyon Skrepetsky) Semyon Skrepetsky/Telegram Russian artist Semyon Skrepetsky may have achieved exactly the wrong level of fame. He was prominent enough to be known to the Kremlin – and to annoy them – but not so renowned that his murder would trigger a major diplomatic outcry. That, at least, is what one Russian artist I spoke to this week believed about his killing on Monday. Skrepetsky, whose real name was Robert Kuzovkov, was known for his political caricatures. He drew satirical portraits of Vladimir Putin, Alexander Lukashenka, Chechen leader Ramzan Kadyrov and even Alexei Navalny. He fled Russia in 2021, fearing arrest and moved to the small Polish town of Biała Podlaska near the border with Belarus. Contrarian by nature, Skrepetsky was initially seen as being pro-Ukrainian and publicly burnt his Russian passport following Russia’s full-scale invasion of  the country in 2022. Later he grew publicly critical of the Ukrainian leadership, which led to him being listed in Ukraine’s Myrotvorets database, a tracker of individuals accused of activities deemed harmful to Ukrainian national security. But it was Putin who was the focus of most of his criticism. Three days before he was shot dead, Skrepetsky travelled to Berlin to stage a one-man protest outside the Russian embassy, featuring a caricature of Joseph Stalin and Putin. As part of the protest, he filmed himself putting Russia’s flag in a rubbish bin. It remains unclear who killed him, although a couple of Belarusian men were detained and then released in connection with his murder. Polish Prime Minister Donald Tusk said the killing has the hallmarks of a political assassination. This, Tusk added, would be “an extremely serious matter internationally. It would constitute state terrorism.” Except Tusk also said justice can be hard in such cases, perhaps already suggesting there is little appetite for a bolder response. Is Skrepetsky’s murder a sign of an increasingly nervous Moscow? Russia assassinating overseas critics is hardly new. Still, this is the same week that an unmarked Russian warship fired warning shots towards a small British yacht in the English Channel. It also comes at a time of deepening repression in Russia itself. Internet shutdowns are becoming more common. Apps are being routinely blocked. All likely triggered by the war in Ukraine not going as well as planned and worries about public opinion on the home front. A quiet transfer of power within the Russian state has apparently been taking place. The FSB, successor to the Soviet-era KGB, is increasingly in charge. Their primary focus are threats to Putin, be it from external adversaries or internal dissenters. Whether Skrepetsky’s death was part of this pattern remains unproven, but what is certain is the Kremlin appears more reactive than ever and more willing to take risks. When regimes are worried about maintaining order, they hit out at the people who make fun of them – and satirists are (literally) in the firing line. READ MORE

Global Free Speech

A tiny proportion of sexual violence cases in Tigray have led to prosecution This article is written in two voices: First, Birhan Gebrekirstos Mezgbo, a researcher and advocate who lived through the Tigray war, then Veronica Blecker, director of the upcoming documentary on sexual violence in Tigray, Not Ours to Carry. Birhan: The moment everything shut down, it felt like the world had disappeared around us. No phone. No internet. No transportation. No banking. No way to know who was alive and who was not. My mother and sister were only around 120 kilometres away from me, but suddenly they felt unreachable, like they were in another universe. I couldn’t call them, I couldn’t travel to see them, and I had no way to know if they were safe. That silence was one of the hardest things I have ever lived through. Honestly, I don’t think the word “blackout” is enough to describe it. What made it worse was knowing that this darkness was not just about communication being cut. The darkness itself became dangerous. Everywhere you turned there was fear. Soldiers, killers, rapists, all operating inside this silence from which nobody could call for help or even tell the world what was happening. The blackout became part of the violence. At the time, I was meeting with survivors of conflict-related sexual and gender-based violence. I still remember walking for almost three hours to reach one survivor after being told where she was staying. When I arrived, she was gone. I walked that same route again and again, trying to find her. I never did. Veronica: The blackout was not simply the absence of communication. It was a weapon. The violence happened inside a closed circle, surrounded by guns and with no way in or out – not only from Tigray, but even within Tigray itself. Phone lines were cut, the internet was shut down, journalists were expelled, roads were blocked. The darkness was deliberate. It ensured that violence could happen unseen and unheard. Birhan: For survivors of conflict-related sexual violence, this darkness was devastating. Accessing medical care, reporting abuse, or seeking support became almost impossible. Ayder Hospital in Mekelle was one of the few facilities still functioning, sustained largely by the commitment of volunteer doctors and nurses. But reaching it could take weeks or even months. Along the way, survivors often faced even more violence. I still think about Abeba. She was raped three different times while trying to reach help in Mekelle. I often wonder whether her life would have been different if support had been available closer to where she lived. Instead, the journey to seek care exposed her to further harm. Eventually, she lost her life. For me, her story captures what the blackout did to so many survivors. The violence did not end with the assault. The darkness allowed it to continue. Veronica: Between 2020 and 2022, an estimated 600,000 people were killed in Tigray. The Commission of Inquiry on the Situation in the Tigray Region documented more than 280,000 cases of conflict-related sexual violence. A mere 25 military convictions have followed. Even if survivors could bring themselves to speak, to tell the world what was happening and what had happened to them, they are trapped inside a system of fear. In a system where armed men control every road and every community, speaking out can feel like a death sentence. I arrived after the blackout had already done its work. The violence had happened in the dark. There was physical evidence – detention sites, signs of torture, a landscape scarred by war. But there was little footage of the violence as it happened. The blackout had made sure of this. Every editorial decision – how to film testimony, how to protect identities, how to structure the narrative – was made in the knowledge that the official position was that there was nothing to document. These were the decisions that shaped Not Ours to Carry. The film captures what denial looks like in practice. One of the protagonists stands before the African Commission on Human Rights and reads survivor testimony into the official record. Later on, in the same session, the Ethiopian delegation responds on camera, rejecting in its totality what they call “baseless allegations”. The protagonist’s verdict: “Every time I go to these institutions, I feel like a clown in somebody’s circus. Going there and speaking is doing nothing but adding to their show.” Both governments were offered the right to reply. Ethiopia rejected the allegations in their totality. Eritrea did not respond. The denial is not historical. It is ongoing. What we documented is not only a record of violence. It is a record of censorship: the systematic suppression of evidence, testimony, and truth by governments that knew exactly what silence would allow. Survivors of conflict-related sexual violence carry two wounds. The first is what has been done to them. The second is being told that it didn’t happen – being told this by perpetrators, by institutions, by communities that impose shame rather than offer compassion and justice. The blackout prevented documentation. Then the world chose not to look. The silence did not end when the internet came back on. Birhan: I keep speaking because the difference between me and many of the women whose stories I carry is often nothing more than luck. I witnessed their pain and suffering, and I cannot simply move on with my life and ignore it. This is not only my voice; it carries the voices of hundreds of thousands of women and girls. From four-year-old children to grandmothers in their eighties. There can be no real accountability, and no meaningful future, if those voices continue to be ignored. That silence is not only theirs to break. It is ours too. Not Ours to Carry is premiering on 6 July at the Sevil International Women’s Documentary Film Festival, Azerbaijan’s only independent documentary film festival dedicated to women’s issues and gender equality If readers want to support survivors directly, donations go to One Stop Centres in Tigray here: https://www.notourstocarry.com/donate READ MORE

Add A Comment
Leave A Reply