Bakwan Sayur is Political

An analysis of how food, shaped by political moves, makes its way to the table.

Mar 17, 2025

Bakwan jagung. (Photo and illustration by: Chalafabia Haris)

Politics aren’t just about big policies on minimum wage or regulations on public transportation. It’s in everything around us, including the food on our plates. It often shapes what we eat, how much it costs, and whether it even gets to our table in the first place.

And if you’re not sure where to begin when it comes to understanding the politics behind our food, I got you. In this newsletter, I’m introducing something I call Ingredient Analysis. A simple way to unpack what’s inside a food item and how policies, regulations, and real-world events influence it. Basically, how did this food end up in front of us?

Since it’s Ramadan, I’ll be using bakwan sayur (vegetable fritters) as our case study. For international friends, here’s some context:

Ramadan is the holy month observed by Muslims, and since Indonesia has the largest Muslim population in the world, it’s a big deal here. During this month, Muslims fast from dawn until sunset, making the breaking of the fast at 6 p.m. a major event, almost like a daily celebration.

Now, onto bakwan sayur. It’s a crispy, deep-fried veggie fritter, usually made of shredded carrots, cabbage, spring onions, and bean sprouts, all mixed into a batter of wheat flour (sometimes with corn or rice flour for extra crunch). This humble snack is a staple in Indonesia, especially during Ramadan. If you’re breaking your fast, chances are there’s a plate of bakwan sayur on the table.

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So, how does this bakwan sayur tell us about politics? Let’s start with what holds them together: wheat flour.

brown grains — Photo by Avinash Kumar on Unsplash

Here’s a slightly terrifying fact: wheat doesn’t grow in Indonesia, meaning 100% of our wheat flour is imported. In 2023, 10 billion tonnes of wheat were imported. Some of them are turned into flour used not only for bakwan sayur but also for the hundred million US dollars worth of instant noodles exported yearly.

Unlike many other countries that source wheat from Russia or Ukraine, Indonesia mostly imports from Australia. Geographically, this makes sense because we’re much closer to Australia than Europe. So, even if you’re buying your bakwan sayur from the street vendor right across your home, the flour in it is straight from Australia. An Australian bakwan sayur, if you will.

There have been several initiatives to reduce our dependence on wheat flour, including the nationwide program to build large-scale plantations to grow staple crops like cassava, rice, and corn called the food estate. While this is also… somewhat controversial, it’s also a sign that the government are aware of this wheat issue.

But two major challenges still remain and it makes it harder for us to switch to local flours. First, alternative flours like cassava or sorghum have different textures and properties, making them less suitable for conventional bread and noodle recipes. Second, they’re crazy expensive. A kilogram of wheat flour costs around Rp12,000, while sorghum flour is around Rp60,000.

I just don’t get it, how is something we grow locally five times pricier than flour shipped from 5,000 km away?

green palm trees under blue sky during daytime — Photo by Attila Janosi on Unsplash

Indonesia is an agricultural powerhouse. We’ve got a ton of arable land, and it’s basically split into two main land categories:

Plantation crops, like palm oil, sugar, and coffee, which are grown for commercial purposes, and
Food crops (or horticultural crops), like fruits, vegetables, and herbs, which are meant for direct consumption.

Palm oil plantations here are huge, in fact, 60% of all plantation land in Indonesia is dedicated to growing palm oil. And it doesn’t stop there. A whopping 83% of all plantation crop production in Indonesia is palm oil. It’s so massive that Indonesia is the world’s #1 producer of palm oil, accounting for more than half of global palm oil production. We’re kind of… a big deal in the palm oil game.

So how do we cope with the national and global demand for palm oil? The answer is that we barely keep up.

The palm oil game is almost invasive, spreading into places it definitely shouldn’t be. We’ve got palm oil plantations creeping into forests, from national parks and wildlife reserves to UNESCO World Heritage sites in places like Sumatra, Kalimantan, Sulawesi, and Papua.

By the end of 2024, the Ombudsman reported that 3.2 million hectares of palm oil plantations are overlapping with forests. That’s about 4 times the size of Jakarta (waters included), or the entire country of Belgium. And just to make it worse, that’s only what’s been officially reported.

Palm oil plantations overlapping with forests can result in some serious environmental damage:

First, they’re putting Indonesia’s endemic wildlife at risk, with plantations taking over the habitats of orangutans, tigers, and elephants in Sumatra and Kalimantan. (Mongabay, 2021).
And second, deforestation. Entire forest areas can be cleared just to make way for palm oil. Take Riau province, for example. The province has 5.38 million hectares of forest, but 1.89 million hectares (35%) have already been turned into palm oil plantations. (Elang, 2022)

Lastly, a bakwan sayur can’t be called a bakwan sayur if there’s no sayur (vegetables) in it. So what about our veggies?

orange carrots on black surface — Photo by JACQUELINE BRANDWAYN on Unsplash

One big thing I keep reading about local vegetables is the phenomenon of throwing them away because their prices drop so much. Here’s the thing: vegetables are harvested in cycles, and in Indonesia, we call this harvest season, Panen Raya.

That means there’s a short window where veggies are abundant, flooding the market. With so many vegetables during Panen Raya and poor price regulations in place, some veggies are prone to be sold for next to nothing.

In a BBC interview (2024) with a professor from IPB’s Faculty of Agriculture, he mentioned that farmers often end up giving their crops away for free or literally spilling them on the road as a form of protest and to get the government's attention. He also pointed out that the cost of harvesting can even exceed the selling price of the produce. So, it’s no wonder that some farmers just leave their veggies to rot in the fields.

This actually makes sense, because veggies are perishable. When there’s an oversupply and not enough demand, they spoil, and prices drop dramatically.

Farmers are vulnerable, so the government needs to step in with policies to protect food sovereignty in Indonesia. They should also implement post-harvest programs so the veggies that aren’t sold can be processed, preserved, and hopefully even sold at a better price rather than just being wasted.

From a humble serving of bakwan sayur, we can see that the food on our plate has gone through a long journey and isn’t immune and relies on government intervention and the political climate. It’s a wild ride, really.

So, what can we do in response to this? Start with ourselves.

Buy local alternatives. Local flour, coconut oil, veggies from the market, cooperatives, or local farmers. You don’t have to go full-on 100%. You can start by mixing them with what you currently have, or maybe intentionally buying these alternatives once a month. The key is just getting into the habit. And once you’re comfortable with it, the hope is that you’ll start advocating for it to the people around you, which in turn will help drive the demand.

Your food choices are a political statement.

Did you ever stop and think about the politics behind the food on your plate? How much do you think government policies and local farming practices shape what we eat every day?