On Tuesday, Heroes’ Day in Yogyakarta was marked by more than ceremonies and tributes to the country’s history. Outside the Yogyakarta Regional Legislative Council (DPRD) building, around the Kepatihan government complex and along Malioboro Street, thousands of people took to the streets to question the direction of government, public policy and what they saw as a shrinking democratic space. Students, civil society groups, workers, ride-hailing drivers and various coalitions gathered to raise concerns that went far beyond any single government policy. They spoke about wages that failed to cover basic living costs, environmental damage caused by mining, alleged criminalization of activists, restrictions on demonstrations and the concentration of power in the central government. A day officially dedicated to remembering the struggle against colonial rule became an opportunity to examine the relationship between the government and citizens demanding accountability.
The central issue was not simply the number of demands, but the distance between public concerns and the government’s ability to provide answers that could be examined and challenged. Demonstrations took place at several locations, with overlapping agendas. The Yogyakarta Student Executive Bodies Forum (Forum BEM DIY) held a protest outside the regional legislative council. The Jogja Calling Alliance, together with student groups and civil society organizations, presented its demands around the Kepatihan government complex. Ride-hailing drivers raised concerns about their relationship with app-based companies. Residents from mining-affected areas spoke about pollution and environmental destruction. Each group brought its own grievances, but they converged on one question: How willing is the government to listen, particularly when public interests conflict with political, economic and security decisions?
The Jogja Calling Alliance issued nine demands covering both national and regional issues. At the national level, it called for the military to return to the barracks, investigations into shootings in Aceh and Papua and other serious human rights violations, and the declaration of a national disaster emergency over forest and land fires. It also demanded legal action against business conglomerates and companies accused of environmental destruction. On economic policy, the alliance called for lower taxes on ordinary people and higher taxes on wealthy conglomerates. In education, it demanded a free, scientific and democratic system that served the public interest. It also opposed the decision to award national hero status to Indonesia’s second president, Soeharto, and called for the prosecution of those considered responsible for abuses during his rule. At the regional level, its demands included an end to the criminalization of ride-hailing drivers, legal protection for workers in the sector, the repeal of the Yogyakarta governor’s regulation on Jaga Warga, the withdrawal of restrictions on demonstrations in the city’s Philosophical Axis area, and an investigation into corruption in the construction of Mandala Krida Stadium.
The list showed that the protest could not be understood simply as opposition to a single gubernatorial policy. Criticism of the regional government ran alongside objections to central government policies and disputes over national history. The Jogja Calling Alliance also stressed that it did not support any political faction in the struggle among elites, including groups associated with President Prabowo Subianto and former President Joko Widodo. In the alliance’s view, rivalries among political elites did not automatically represent the interests of ordinary people. That position mattered because the demonstration took place amid political maneuvering and wider debates over the direction of the government. By declaring its independence, the alliance sought to place its demands outside the interests of replacing or strengthening any particular power bloc.
Outside the regional legislative council, Forum BEM DIY focused more directly on the relationship between the central and regional governments. Forum coordinator Faturahman Djaguna said the demonstration was an expression of student opposition to several problems affecting the country. One of the main demands was to reject the awarding of national hero status to Soeharto. Faturahman said the decision needed to be examined in light of the historical record of Soeharto’s government. For the students, a national hero title was not merely a symbolic honor. A state award shapes how society remembers its history and judges those who have held power. It should therefore not be separated from the experiences of victims, the record of human rights violations and the political accountability of the New Order government.
Forum BEM DIY also urged the regional legislative council to take a position on calls to impeach Vice President Gibran Rakabuming Raka. The students criticized the concentration of power under the Prabowo-Gibran administration and argued that regional governments had been left with increasingly limited authority. Faturahman pointed to mining permit policies, which he said were increasingly determined by the central government rather than regional administrations. He questioned a situation in which provincial, regency, municipal and village governments had little room to make decisions that directly affected their communities. His criticism was rooted in the principle of regional autonomy, one of the major demands of the 1998 Reformasi movement. Decentralization was supposed to give local governments room to manage their own affairs, not merely implement decisions made in Jakarta.
The issue has direct consequences for people in Yogyakarta. When decisions about mining, the environment and economic resources are increasingly made by the central government, residents affected by those decisions still turn to local authorities when they need solutions. The distinction between administrative authority and political responsibility then becomes a problem. Regional officials may say that a decision rests with the central government, but residents still expect them to use whatever powers they have to protect local interests. For ordinary people, the division of government responsibilities is not always clear. What they experience are the consequences of policy: polluted water, altered landscapes, insecure employment and an increasingly difficult struggle to protect their living environment.
Faturahman also questioned the police summonses issued to several students by the Yogyakarta Police Department in connection with unrest on 20 October. He asked why students who had expressed their views through research and organized activities were being questioned while, in his view, the authorities had yet to provide clear information about the alleged involvement of thugs in the unrest. This was the students’ assessment, not an established conclusion about the legal proceedings. Still, their questions touched on a fundamental issue in law enforcement: whether authorities treat all parties equally and whether investigations are based on evidence and individual conduct rather than someone’s identity as a protest participant.
Beyond political and legal concerns, Forum BEM DIY urged the government to address the economic conditions facing ordinary people. It pointed to micro, small and medium-sized businesses, pedicab drivers and low-income groups as communities in need of economic recovery measures. Faturahman said the government should restore the strength of the people’s economy rather than focus only on aggregate growth indicators. Hundreds of people took part in the demonstration. They had communicated with the regional legislative council to request an opportunity to present their demands directly, but had not been allowed into the building by their stated deadline of 3 p.m. They then urged all legislative factions to meet the protesters.
At the same time, the Jogja Calling Alliance continued presenting its demands around the Kepatihan government complex. Five regional issues became the focus of a meeting with Yogyakarta Gov. Sri Sultan Hamengku Buwono X. The meeting took place at about 4 p.m. at the southern gate of the Kepatihan complex. The sultan arrived wearing a batik shirt and sat on the ground with some of the protesters. The scene differed from the usual image of officials meeting demonstrators through representatives, security barriers or closed-door hearings. At the entrance to the government complex, the governor faced residents who were questioning his policies directly.
But an open setting did not, by itself, resolve the issues raised by the protesters. Their five main demands concerned the repeal of the Jaga Warga regulation, the removal of restrictions on demonstrations in the Philosophical Axis area, setting workers’ wages according to a decent standard of living, resolving the problems surrounding Mandala Krida Stadium, and ending the alleged criminalization of activists, students and ride-hailing drivers. These demands involved different areas of responsibility. Some fell under the governor’s authority, others concerned the central government, while others involved law enforcement agencies and ongoing legal proceedings. The government’s response therefore needed to go beyond explaining the limits of its authority. Residents also needed clear information about what steps could be taken, who was responsible and when those steps would be carried out.
The sultan addressed the demands one by one. Regarding the Jaga Warga gubernatorial regulation, he said the regional government was willing to consider a review if the policy was found to be inconsistent with public needs or to obstruct democratization. However, he also defended security as one of the reasons behind the regulation. He said community concerns extended beyond freedom of expression to include drugs, juvenile delinquency, street crime and other public order problems. He asked the protesters to consider Jaga Warga in terms of its role in protecting communities, rather than focusing solely on the possibility of abuse.
“If it does make it difficult for democracy to grow, then we will review it,” the sultan said during the meeting.
The statement left open the possibility of a review, but it did not answer the demand to repeal the regulation. This is where the difference between explaining a policy and making a political decision becomes important. The government can explain why a regulation was introduced, but that explanation does not automatically answer whether it remains necessary, whether its oversight mechanisms are adequate or whether its implementation places disproportionate restrictions on civil liberties. For the protesters, the issue was not merely the government’s stated purpose. It was also the impact of the regulation on people trying to exercise their right to express their views.
The sultan also stressed that the government had a duty to protect residents who worked and earned a living. He said people should be able to live in their communities without feeling threatened by crime. But for students and activists, public safety should not be used as a reason to narrow democratic space. These two interests should not be treated as mutually exclusive. The government must protect people from violence while ensuring that public expression is free from intimidation. Security measured only by quiet streets, without considering people’s freedom to criticize those in power, risks turning public order into a goal that takes precedence over civil rights.
The meeting at Kepatihan revealed two different ways of approaching the same problems. The government spoke about stability, jurisdiction and the need to consider competing interests. The protesters demanded certainty, policy reversals and actions whose results could be seen. They met physically at the same gate, but they did not reach a shared political understanding. After hearing the sultan’s explanations, representatives of the Jogja Calling Alliance said the answers remained vague. They saw no concrete decisions on their demands. A dialogue had taken place, but the issues that brought them to the streets remained unresolved.
Among the demands raised at Kepatihan, workers’ wages exposed one of the clearest gaps between people’s daily experiences and the government’s explanation of policy. For workers, wages are not merely figures in a gubernatorial decree. They determine whether someone can pay for housing, buy food, support a family and maintain a decent standard of living as prices rise. Yogyakarta is known as an education center and tourist destination, but that reputation does not always translate into workers’ ability to meet their daily needs. When workers demand wages based on the Decent Living Needs (KHL) standard, they are not simply debating an administrative formula. They are asking whether regional economic growth has actually improved the lives of the people who sustain it through their labor.
The sultan explained that minimum wage levels were determined through a mechanism involving the central government and the Wage Council. He cited regional economic growth, inflation and the alpha variable as components of the calculation. The alpha variable ranges from 0.1 to 0.9 and is discussed by representatives of the government, employers and workers. The sultan gave an example based on economic growth of 5% and inflation of 3%. In his illustration, the two figures produced a baseline increase of about 8% before the alpha variable was applied under the relevant formula. He also described negotiations in the previous year, when the alpha figure, initially agreed at 0.4, was raised to 0.8 after the regional government negotiated with employers.
The explanation showed that the regional government had some room to negotiate, although the sultan stressed that the final decision followed central government regulations. He said the provincial government could not set the figure unilaterally before the Manpower Minister issued a decision. “The central government makes the decision, not the regional government,” he said. The statement described the limits of formal authority, but it did not fully address the workers’ concerns. Their demand was not simply that the government follow the formula. They wanted wages to reflect the actual cost of living in the region. The gap between a nominal wage increase based on economic indicators and an income sufficient to meet basic needs was at the heart of the dispute.
A wage formula can produce a nominal increase, but that figure does not necessarily reflect a change in purchasing power. Economic growth and inflation are macroeconomic indicators. On their own, they do not account for every household expense, including rent, transportation, education, health care and food. When workers demand wages based on KHL, they are asking the government to connect statistical indicators with actual household spending. An explanation of the negotiation process is important, but the government’s responsibility also includes ensuring that workers have sufficient weight in those negotiations. If employers have greater bargaining power and workers lack an equal position, the formal process can continue without producing a decision that workers consider fair.
A similar question of authority arose in the discussion about Mandala Krida Stadium. The stadium drew attention not only because it serves as a public sports facility, but also because its construction became entangled in a corruption case. A project intended to provide public infrastructure instead left behind legal and technical problems. During the meeting, the sultan explained that repairs had previously been impossible because the building was still connected to a corruption case handled by the Corruption Eradication Commission (KPK). According to his account, after the case reached a final and binding verdict, the KPK gave the regional government permission in early September to resume construction.
The sultan said a team from the Ministry of Youth and Sports, led by Minister Erick Thohir, had conducted a survey. The results showed that the eastern stands did not meet the required standards and would need to be rebuilt, with parts possibly demolished. He said reconstruction to meet FIFA requirements could only begin in 2028 because it depended on stages in the state budget. For the time being, the stadium could still be used with certain restrictions. The eastern stands could not be used, while nighttime activities were limited by the lack of adequate lighting.
The explanation provided more concrete information about the stadium’s technical condition than the sultan’s responses to several other demands. It covered the status of the legal case, survey findings, the sections requiring repairs and an estimated construction timeline. But for the protesters, the issue also concerned accountability for a troubled public project. They argued that the regional government should act on the opportunity granted by the KPK rather than allow the construction problems to drag on. A stadium built with public money should not be judged only by when construction can resume. Residents also have the right to know how the project was supervised, who was responsible for its failures and how the government will prevent similar problems in the future.
The Mandala Krida case shows that corruption does not end with financial losses to the state or the punishment of those responsible. Its consequences can last for years after legal proceedings have concluded. Public facilities that should serve the community become restricted, while additional funds are needed to repair the damage left behind. In such circumstances, the public bears the consequences of decisions and actions it did not make. The demand to investigate the Mandala Krida project was therefore also a demand for accountability in the use of public funds. Rebuilding the stadium is necessary, but restoring the facility should not replace questions about responsibility.
Another issue was raised by representatives of the Wakanda ride-hailing drivers’ community, who described their experience dealing with app-based company Maxim. They said they had held two meetings with company representatives to discuss fares and alleged regulatory violations. After failing to reach an agreement, they took their concerns to the streets in a demonstration outside the company’s office. The protest was followed by a police report filed by Maxim management at the Sleman Police Department. Several community members were still facing legal proceedings. They asked the authorities to stop what they considered the criminalization of drivers seeking to defend their rights.
Ride-hailing drivers’ concerns lie at the intersection of labor relations, consumer protection and digital economy regulation. App-based companies control the systems connecting drivers with customers, determine service mechanisms and exert substantial influence over drivers’ income. Drivers, by contrast, depend on access to the applications to find work. The relationship is not always balanced. When drivers challenge fares or company policies, they face organizations with greater control over the systems on which they depend for their livelihoods. Their status as business partners rather than employees has also raised questions about the protections they should receive.
In this context, drivers’ right to raise objections is important. Protesting company policies cannot automatically be treated as unlawful conduct. At the same time, a police report does not automatically prove that criminalization has taken place. Any assessment must be based on the chronology, evidence, individual actions and fairness of the legal process. The issue raised by Wakanda with the sultan showed why regional governments need mechanisms to receive complaints from digital platform workers. Even when regulatory authority rests with the central government, local administrations can document problems, facilitate communication and submit findings to the relevant agencies.
The sultan asked the community to submit its data and a written account of the events. He said the regional government needed a clear basis for communicating with the central government. In his view, issues under central government authority could not be followed up without information from the people experiencing them. He also recalled that the regional government had previously conveyed concerns about drivers’ earnings to the central government.
The request for written complaints had an administrative basis. Documents and a chronology can help officials examine a problem more systematically. But the request also highlighted the limits of the regional government’s immediate response. The drivers had come with complaints about ongoing legal proceedings, but received no immediate decision. The sultan did not say that the police report should be withdrawn or that the investigation should be stopped. He asked for more information to review. For a community seeking protection, that response did not address its immediate concerns.
Mining raised another issue, showing how economic policy and environmental management can create conflict within communities. Residents’ representatives complained about sand mining around Brosot and Srandakan in Kulon Progo. They cited water pollution, dust pollution, environmental damage and difficulties obtaining clean water as problems affecting local communities. Mining activities were also said to have triggered social conflicts because residents did not always share the same interests. Similar problems, they said, had emerged in Sleman.
The complaints showed that the effects of mining did not stop at excavation sites. Changes to rivers, spreading dust, damaged infrastructure and reduced access to clean water can affect communities living around mining operations. When environmental damage continues, people who are not directly involved in mining can still bear the consequences. Conflict can then emerge not only between communities and companies, but also among residents with different economic interests. Some may depend on mining for their income, while others face environmental damage that threatens their livelihoods.
The sultan said the government needed to distinguish between illegal mines and operations with permits. He acknowledged problems in Kulon Progo, including damage to a bridge caused by illegal mining. However, he also warned that enforcement had to take into account workers who depended on the activity. In his view, the government needed to prepare alternative employment so that closing mines would not create new social problems. He cited previous enforcement measures against mining activities on the slopes of Mount Merapi as an example.
That position reflected a genuine dilemma in environmental law enforcement. The government cannot allow environmental destruction simply because some residents depend on illegal activities for their income. But enforcement that ignores people’s economic dependence can shift the problem from environmental damage to poverty. These concerns do not have to be treated as mutually exclusive. The government can enforce the law while developing alternative employment programs, providing social protection and ensuring environmental restoration. What is needed is more than a promise to examine the problem. It requires field inspections, identification of licensed and illegal operations, and clear explanations of who is responsible.
The sultan told the protesters that he was willing to send a team if the regional government received sufficient information. He also asked residents to provide more detailed accounts. However, people experiencing environmental damage should not bear the entire burden of proving it. The government has inspection resources and administrative authority that should be used to monitor mining activities. Public complaints can provide a starting point, but they cannot replace the government’s responsibility to conduct oversight.
After the dialogue ended, representatives of the Jogja Calling Alliance publicly assessed the governor’s responses. They said there had been no concrete answer on repealing the Jaga Warga regulation or lifting restrictions on demonstrations in the Philosophical Axis area. They also considered the explanation about workers’ wages insufficient to guarantee that the KHL standard would be met. They argued that work on Mandala Krida should be accelerated after the KPK granted permission to resume construction. The representatives again called for an end to what they considered the criminalization of ride-hailing drivers and students summoned by the Yogyakarta Police Department.
Their disappointment did not mean that all of the sultan’s explanations lacked substance. Some issues did involve the central government, judicial proceedings or other agencies. But explaining the division of authority does not remove the regional government’s obligation to take action within its jurisdiction. Officials can state the limits of their authority while also explaining what they intend to do. For example, will they establish a team to review the Jaga Warga regulation, seek a legal assessment of restrictions on demonstrations, facilitate a resolution to the drivers’ complaints or announce a timetable for investigating mining activities?
The absence of immediate decisions meant the meeting ended without an agreement that could readily be followed up. The sultan had met the demonstrators and answered several questions. But for the protesters, a public official’s willingness to engage in dialogue was not enough without policy changes. They had come seeking answers, not merely an explanation of why the government had made certain decisions. Ultimately, the demonstrations returned to the streets.
At about 5 p.m., protesters continued their action at Yogyakarta’s Kilometer Zero Point. The area, one of the city’s main public gathering places, filled with demonstrators. Speakers took turns addressing the crowd from a command vehicle. The demands again expanded to national issues, including opposition to government programs considered excessively expensive, such as the Free Nutritious Meals (MBG) program. Protesters also spoke about economic hardship and called for better governance. Police officers stood guard around the crowd.
Kilometer Zero Point became a meeting place for issues that had previously been discussed separately. Demands concerning wages, education, the environment, civil liberties and fiscal policy came together in one demonstration. The large turnout showed that public frustration had not subsided after the meeting with the governor. The dialogue at Kepatihan had given the government an opportunity to hear the demands directly, but it had not changed the protesters’ reasons for remaining on the streets. They continued their speeches, presented statements and stayed until evening.
Amid the demonstrations, another issue attracted public attention. Access to closed-circuit television (CCTV) cameras at several locations around Malioboro was unavailable through the service normally used by the public. The disruption prompted questions because it occurred during the Heroes’ Day demonstrations. The Yogyakarta City Communications, Informatics and Encryption Agency subsequently said the CCTV network was undergoing routine maintenance. The agency’s head, Ignatius Tri Hastono, denied that the cameras had been deliberately switched off for a particular purpose.
He said maintenance could take up to three days and covered several locations along multiple roads, not just Malioboro. Asked how many cameras were temporarily unavailable, the agency said it still needed to check official records. Tri Hastono also said the public could use CCTV services operated by other agencies, including the regional government and the Yogyakarta Transportation Agency.
The statement should be recorded as the city government’s official explanation. But the timing made public questions understandable. When thousands of people gather in public spaces and conditions can change quickly, access to visual information matters for safety, documentation and oversight. The government should ensure that information about maintenance of public infrastructure is communicated clearly, particularly when the facilities are needed to monitor conditions across the city.
Shortly before 7 p.m., some demonstrators remained at Kilometer Zero Point after the command vehicle had left. Some sat and talked, while others stood in the intersection, with the crowd spreading toward the northern side and the western and eastern pedestrian areas. At about 7:35 p.m., protesters began dispersing in different directions along routes used by their respective groups. Traffic gradually returned to normal. The demonstration, which had begun around midday, appeared to be winding down. But the movement of people had not completely stopped. Some headed toward Malioboro, where events later that evening would change the course of the protest.
At about 7:49 p.m., the atmosphere around the Yogyakarta Regional Legislative Council building changed. Some people coming from Kilometer Zero Point stopped outside the building. Firecrackers and fireworks were set off. Some were thrown into the legislative complex. Protesters then banged on and pushed the locked gate. After repeated attempts, the gate was forced open. Inside the compound, security personnel held their positions near the building’s lobby, while barbed wire had been placed behind the gate. The incident marked a significant shift in the day’s demonstration. After hours of speeches and dialogue, some protesters were now involved in actions that led to a confrontation with security forces.
At about 8:15 p.m., police began pushing protesters away from the legislative building. Clashes broke out along Malioboro Street. Police used water cannon trucks to disperse the crowd, while some protesters threw stones and fireworks at officers. High-pressure streams of water forced people to retreat. Police lines continued moving north past the Hotel De Djokja area toward Teteg Malioboro, near Yogyakarta railway station. Firecracker explosions could be heard intermittently near police lines. The street, usually filled with tourists and commercial activity during the day, became a corridor of confrontation.
The situation escalated quickly. At about 8:26 p.m., officers continued pushing the crowd north. Some people moved toward the Mangkubumi area and the Tugu Yogyakarta intersection. At 8:30 p.m., clashes were still taking place around Teteg Malioboro. The crowd that had gathered outside the legislative building became increasingly scattered. Police used tactical vehicles and water cannon trucks to take control of the street, while stones and fireworks continued to be thrown at several locations. Along Malioboro, a number of shops began closing their doors. Commercial activity that normally continued into the evening came to a halt as security conditions deteriorated.
The movement north did not immediately end the clashes. Mangkubumi Street became another gathering point as protesters were pushed away from Malioboro. Some moved toward the Tugu intersection, while police conducted sweeps in the area. Amid the unrest, a group of Indonesian military personnel was seen moving north along Malioboro from the south at about 8:51 p.m. They passed Plaza Malioboro on their way toward the northern part of the street. Hundreds of Army personnel were deployed, with some also seen standing guard at the regional legislative council building.
The military deployment added another dimension to the security response. The demonstration had initially been treated as a public expression of opinion handled by police. When the situation turned into clashes, the arrival of additional personnel suggested that the authorities viewed it as a wider security problem. But deploying more force did not remove the obligation to act within the law. Every use of force must take into account the threat, the necessity of the response and proportionality. People who commit violence can be held accountable, but police and other security personnel must still be bound by legal rules and respect for human rights.
At about 9 p.m., arrests began. Observations at the scene showed police repeatedly detaining people suspected of being involved in the protest. Some were handcuffed and taken to vehicles. On Mangkubumi Street, police detained a person suspected of hiding a bottle containing liquid inside a shop. Officers also searched the surrounding area with the assistance of uniformed military personnel. Initial information did not fully establish the identities of those detained, ownership of the items found or their connection to the earlier acts of violence.
That distinction is important in any law enforcement process. A person carrying a dangerous object can be questioned on the basis of evidence and suspected conduct. But the presence of such an object should not be used to conclude that all demonstrators shared the same intentions. Similarly, someone detained near the scene of clashes is not necessarily involved in throwing stones, setting fires or attacking others. Investigations must establish each individual’s role rather than substitute assumptions based on appearance, location or participation in a demonstration.
After 9:10 p.m., the situation around Mangkubumi Street became relatively more controlled. The crowd had been pushed toward Marga Utama Street and the Tugu Yogyakarta area. Shops along Malioboro were closed, and the streets had begun to empty. Police blocked part of the western side of Pasar Kembang Street, restricting vehicle movement. But the quieter streets did not mean the entire sequence of clashes had ended. Around Tugu, officers remained on guard and continued making arrests.
At 9:47 p.m., traffic around Tugu Yogyakarta began to recover, although movement remained limited. Motorcycles heading toward Sudirman Street were allowed to use the northern section of Mangkubumi Street. Police officers in both uniforms and civilian clothes remained in the area, while tactical vehicles were kept on standby. At the same time, reports of arrests continued to emerge. Protesters who had been detained and beaten were taken to the regional legislative council building. Some were transported in police vehicles.
At about 10:30 p.m., no confirmed figure for the number of people detained was available. This made it difficult for family members and friends to find information. Mass arrests require records of each person’s identity, the location of the arrest, its legal basis and the place where the person is being questioned. Without transparency, people searching for relatives must rely on scattered reports and information that may be incomplete. In an emergency, uncertainty can increase anxiety and make access to legal assistance more difficult.
Meanwhile, clashes broke out again on A.M. Sangaji Street, near the Tugu intersection. Observations at the scene at about 10:20 p.m. indicated that fireworks exploded several times before protesters and police again engaged in a series of chases. People moved from the north, while officers attempted to push the crowd away. The relative calm around Malioboro had not ended the tension. The clashes had moved to another part of the city center.
As midnight approached, another concentration of protesters appeared around the roundabout near Gadjah Mada University (UGM). At 11:35 p.m., several people gathered in the area. Some dragged water barriers across the road to block access. Clashes broke out again at about 11:38 p.m. Police fired tear gas toward the crowd and the UGM campus area, sending people running west and east. Some moved toward Affandi Street. A bus maneuvering in front of the emergency department at Panti Rapih Hospital briefly obstructed their route. People shouted as they searched for a way out of an area filled with tear gas.
At roughly the same time, traffic around Tugu Yogyakarta was reported to be moving freely again. Cars and motorcycles could pass, although pieces of stone and broken glass remained scattered along A.M. Sangaji Street. Police stood guard at several points around the monument, while Brimob tactical vehicles were positioned to the west and south. The city was experiencing two conditions at once: some roads were returning to normal, while clashes continued elsewhere. No single location could represent the overall situation across Yogyakarta that night.
The sequence of events showed how quickly a demonstration could turn into a security crisis when authorities deployed force. But a chronology alone cannot explain how the escalation occurred. Further investigation is needed to establish who initiated the violence, how police used water cannon and tear gas, and whether each arrest was based on a clearly identified suspected offense. Investigators must also determine whether protesters or uninvolved residents were subjected to violence.
On Heroes’ Day, what had begun as a protest over government policy and public accountability became a series of incidents requiring separate investigations. Demands concerning the governor’s policies, wages, the environment and democracy remained unresolved. New questions had emerged: How had the police handled the demonstrations, and were those detained receiving the legal protections to which they were entitled? These questions became more urgent as reports of arrests continued to grow.
As Wednesday approached, attention shifted from the streets to the places where detained protesters had been taken. After clashes spread from the regional legislative council building to Malioboro, Mangkubumi, A.M. Sangaji Street and the UGM roundabout, families and friends began searching for information about those who had been detained. Some were taken to the legislative council building, where officers were seen gathering them in the lobby. But the total number of people detained, their identities and the legal grounds for their arrests were not yet fully known. Outside the building, uncertainty was spreading faster than official information.
For families, the immediate concern was not who was responsible for the unrest, but whether someone they knew was still at a police station, inside the legislative building or had been taken elsewhere. Some protesters could no longer be reached. Others were reported to have been injured and in need of medical treatment. In such circumstances, disclosing the identities of detained people is not merely an administrative matter. It is directly connected to their rights to liberty, safety, legal assistance and protection from arbitrary detention.
The Bara Adil Legal Team, which includes the Yogyakarta Legal Aid Institute, began collecting complaints from the public. According to a statement issued at 3:50 a.m. Wednesday, 11 November, the team had received 64 reports through its emergency hotline. Of those, 47 people were reported detained, 13 were missing or could not be contacted, two had been released or returned home, and two were receiving hospital treatment for injuries. These figures represented complaints received by the legal team, not an official list of people formally named as suspects or detained by investigators.
The Bara Adil Legal Team also reported that nine other people whose identities had not yet been established were receiving first aid at Bethesda Hospital from about 2:09 a.m. The team said the figures did not necessarily include all possible victims. Because reports were still coming in, the numbers released early that morning should be treated as preliminary. Even so, the complaints already pointed to an impact that extended beyond damage to public property. Dozens of families and friends were facing uncertainty about the safety and whereabouts of people who had attended the demonstrations.
In its statement, the Bara Adil Legal Team criticized the deployment of joint security forces. It referred to information from the official Yogyakarta Police Department account stating that police, the military and the regional government had detained 104 people in the early hours of 11 November. The legal team also cited the deployment of four Brimob riot-control units, 60 personnel from the Brimob riot-control unit and a special task force for intensified police patrols. It said the figures did not include the military personnel deployed.
The Yogyakarta Legal Aid Institute said the authorities’ actions may have violated the principle of proportionality. It reported allegations of random arrests, excessive use of force and torture against protesters and residents. These were the legal team’s preliminary assessments and findings based on observations at the scene, social media reports and complaints it had received. Allegations of torture and procedural violations still require independent investigation and verification. But the government and law enforcement agencies should not dismiss such reports simply because they have not yet resulted in a court finding.
Proportionality is a fundamental principle in the policing of demonstrations. Authorities have a duty to protect public safety and prevent violence. They also have the power to take action against people suspected of committing crimes. But that power has limits. The use of force must be based on a clear necessity and must not exceed the level of threat. When some people engage in violence, police must distinguish them from other participants who are not involved. Arrests must be based on suspected individual conduct, not merely on someone’s presence near a clash.
The use of tear gas, water cannon and tactical vehicles must also be assessed in light of the specific circumstances. The question is not only whether officers faced people throwing objects or damaging property, but whether the measures they chose were the most appropriate way to address the threat. Were warnings given? Were evacuation routes available for residents and people not involved in the clashes? Was the response proportionate? Were people injured by the use of force? These questions cannot be answered simply by saying that officers followed procedure.
In the early hours of Wednesday, National Police Chief Gen. Suyudi Ario Seto arrived at the regional legislative council building with Deputy House of Representatives Speaker Sufmi Dasco Ahmad. They arrived at about 1:30 a.m. on 11 November to review the handling of the demonstrations and inspect the condition of those detained. They also coordinated with police officials and other relevant authorities at the site.
The presence of the national police chief showed that the demonstrations in Yogyakarta had become a matter of national concern. Suyudi said police were examining the conduct of officers in the field and the alleged involvement of people carrying dangerous objects. He cited items such as Molotov cocktails as part of the evidence that would be examined. He said the investigation was needed to determine whether the demonstrations were solely intended to express public opinion or whether other actions had been deliberately directed at causing damage.
The police chief also addressed the duration of the demonstrations. He said police had allowed public demonstrations until 6 p.m., but the activities continued until about 1 a.m. He said investigators would examine whether there had been deliberate attempts to cause damage after the permitted time.
“We will investigate whether there were deliberate attempts to cause destruction during the demonstrations that continued into the night,” Suyudi said.
When asked whether the demonstrations might have involved treason, he declined to draw a conclusion.
“Well, not yet,” he said.
The answer was significant because it showed that, at the time of the statement, police had not concluded that treason had taken place. In a tense political climate, the term carries serious legal consequences. It should not be used loosely to describe a demonstration that ends in clashes. Property damage, violence and other criminal offenses must be investigated under the relevant legal provisions. The distinction between a demonstration, a riot and an act of treason cannot be erased simply because they occur during the same sequence of events.
The police chief’s statement also made the permitted duration of the demonstration one of the issues under investigation. But violating rules on the timing of public demonstrations does not, by itself, justify unlimited use of force. Officers must still consider conditions on the ground, issue warnings and ensure that their actions comply with the law.
The Yogyakarta Police Department later provided its own account of the demonstrations. Acting Head of Public Relations AKBP Novita Eka Sari said the security operation involved the police, military and regional government. She said the public demonstrations, which began in the afternoon and continued until about 7 p.m., had proceeded peacefully and without incident. However, according to the police account, the situation changed at about 8:07 p.m. when protesters gathered outside the regional legislative council building.
“About 100 people gathered outside the Yogyakarta Regional Legislative Council office and attacked it by firing firecrackers and Molotov cocktails and throwing stones into the compound,” Novita said in a statement early Wednesday.
The Yogyakarta Police Department said it had detained 94 people suspected of involvement in acts of vandalism against public facilities. That figure differed from the 104 people cited in information referenced by the Bara Adil Legal Team. The discrepancy needs to be clarified through detailed official records. The figures may have come from different reporting times or covered different groups of people, but without further information, the reason for the difference cannot be established. Likewise, the 64 complaints received by the legal team cannot be directly compared with the number of people detained by police. The figures came from different reporting systems and refer to different categories.
Police said items found at the scene would serve as evidence for further investigation. Those findings need to be examined by establishing where the items were seized, who owned them, how they were connected to the people detained and whether they had been used in criminal acts. The mere presence of an object is not enough. Investigators must establish who carried, stored or used it and whether the conduct meets the legal elements of an offense. Transparency is necessary to ensure that evidence does not become a pretext for arrests without proof.
The different accounts from police and the legal team reflected two perspectives on the same events. The police emphasized acts of violence, physical evidence and their duty to maintain public safety. The legal team focused on alleged excessive force, disproportionate arrests, injuries and people whose whereabouts remained unknown. These accounts do not necessarily cancel each other out. Attacks on public facilities can occur alongside violations of procedure by security personnel. People who commit violence can be prosecuted, while officers suspected of using unlawful force must also be investigated.
In these circumstances, the government should not simply ask the public to wait for the results of an investigation. It should provide information about those detained, where they are being questioned, their access to legal counsel and their medical condition. Families must be able to find out where their relatives are. Injured people must receive medical treatment without obstruction. If there are reports of torture, the investigation must be independent and ensure protection for those making complaints.
The Bara Adil Legal Team urged people whose family members or friends had not returned after the demonstrations to report their cases through its hotline at 0895-1062-9630. The team was collecting reports to update information about people detained, missing or injured. The hotline also provided a way for families to seek assistance while official information remained incomplete.
Meanwhile, security forces continued their operations and investigations. Conditions on several roads gradually returned to normal, but the restoration of traffic did not resolve the legal and humanitarian issues. Roads could be cleaned, fences repaired and shops reopened. But those detained still had to undergo questioning, while families who had lost contact with their relatives were still waiting for news. Behind every arrest figure was an individual with the right to know the reason for their detention and receive legal protection.
The events also underscored the importance of independent documentation. Video recordings, photographs, witness accounts, medical records and detailed records of the time and location of arrests can help verify the accounts of all parties. Such documentation must be handled carefully, particularly when it involves the identities of victims and detained people. The aim should not be to build accusations from isolated video clips circulating online, but to establish a verifiable chronology.
In Yogyakarta, Heroes’ Day left two interconnected issues. The demonstrations exposed public dissatisfaction with government policies and the way the state was being run. The clashes that followed revealed how fragile the space for public expression can become when tensions rise and security forces use force to control a situation. Neither issue can be resolved through mutual accusations. The government must explain its policies, police must disclose how the demonstrations were handled, and those responsible for violence must be held accountable.
For people following the events, the question was no longer simply how the demonstrations had ended. The larger issue was whether the government would open the door to reviewing the original demands or allow public attention to be consumed entirely by the unrest. If the events are remembered only as a disruption of public order, the issues that brought thousands of people into the streets risk disappearing from public debate.
The events in Yogyakarta also showed why policing demonstrations is about more than controlling crowds. Officers must distinguish between people committing violence, people expressing their views, journalists covering the events and residents who happen to be in the area. The use of tear gas in urban areas, for example, can affect people who are not involved in the demonstrations. Any assessment of police conduct must therefore consider surrounding conditions, evacuation options and risks to the general public. When security operations cause injuries, questions about procedures and responsibility cannot be avoided.
For Yogyakarta, these issues carry particular significance because the city often presents itself as a center of education, culture and freedom of thought. That reputation cannot be maintained through slogans or tourism campaigns alone. It must be reflected in how the government treats criticism, how security forces manage demonstrations and whether residents can challenge policies without fear of intimidation. An open city is not one that never experiences conflict. It is one with institutions capable of managing conflict fairly and making room for disagreement.
Heroes’ Day should be an opportunity to remember that political struggle does not end when a country wins its independence. An independent country still faces questions about the distribution of power, economic justice, civil liberties and the protection of citizens’ rights. Criticizing the government is not contrary to the national interest. On the contrary, criticism is part of democratic life. A government confident in the legitimacy of its policies should not see criticism as a threat, but as an opportunity to test its decisions.
Democracy, however, cannot survive if violence replaces debate. Violence can divert attention from the issues a demonstration seeks to address and give the government a reason to focus on security instead. Protesters therefore have a responsibility to ensure that demonstrations do not turn violent. At the same time, security forces must ensure that action against unlawful conduct is not used to restrict the rights of the wider public.
The sultan’s meeting with protesters at the Kepatihan gate showed that dialogue was still possible. A governor came out to meet demonstrators, sat with them and answered their questions directly. That was an important part of the relationship between government and society. But the quality of democracy is not determined solely by a public official’s willingness to meet protesters. It is also measured by what happens after the meeting. Will the disputed regulation be reviewed? Will residents’ complaints be investigated? Will the government disclose relevant information and set out concrete follow-up measures? Will public criticism actually influence policy decisions?
The events of 10 November in Yogyakarta cannot be reduced to a demonstration that ended in violence. The day’s events revealed a complicated relationship between public dissatisfaction, the limited authority of regional governments, competing economic interests and the state’s use of force to maintain order. The unrest was an important part of the story, but it was not the whole story. Behind the damaged gate of the legislative council building were demands concerning wages, education, the environment, history and civil liberties. Behind the arrests were questions about legal procedures and the protection of citizens. Behind the government’s explanations about jurisdiction was the public’s need for decisions that could be held to account.
Malioboro’s streets were cleaned again. Damaged fences could be repaired, traffic could return to normal and shops could reopen. But restoring the city was not the same as resolving its political problems. The government still had to answer the demands raised by residents, while the police had to ensure that every action taken that night was examined fairly. Those detained had to receive legal assistance, and allegations of police violence had to be investigated.
In the end, Heroes’ Day left a question more important than who controlled the streets that night: Is the state willing to listen to criticism without treating it as a threat, and can people defend their interests without turning to violence? The answer cannot be found in a single dialogue, a news conference or one night of demonstrations. It must be demonstrated through government policies, actions and accountability after the crowds have gone home.
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