The Death of an Environmental Lawyer
Prologue:
This is the story of the death of an environmental lawyer.
It’s October 2019 and his name is Golfrid Siregar. He’s 34 years old and works as a lawyer and activist at Indonesia’s largest environmental NGO: the Indonesian Forum for the Environment or WALHI. He’s married with a two-year-old daughter and lives in Medan in North Sumatra, Indonesia.
His friends say he’s a great lawyer—capable of great work. They call him “vocal”, “unafraid” and “diligent”. He has a “bite” which means he’ll take on anybody, no matter how powerful or influential. He’s tall, broad-shouldered, argumentative and passionate about environmental activism.
But in recent months his family has become increasingly worried about him. His uncle has even begged him to stop going to court because “something might happen” due to the controversial nature of some of the cases he’s working on. A series of messages on his phone going back to February 2019 hint that not all is well.
“Yeah whatever, if someone gets stabbed let it happen,” Golfrid writes in one. “I’m still going to go to court.”
Eight months later, on 6 October 2019, Golfrid Siregar will be dead.
Chapter One - Scene
It’s 3 October 2019 at around 1am and Golfrid is found slumped at the side of the road in the Titi Kuning Underpass in Medan. His red motorbike lies next to him. A passing pedicab driver picks him up and, with the help of other people who have stopped at the scene, stuffs him into the passenger side of his pedicab and drives him to the nearest hospital—Rumah Sakit Mitra Sejati.
CCTV footage surfaces online which shows part of the story.
In the jerky video, the pedicab driver speeds towards the front entrance of the hospital with Golfrid lying in the side carriage, his legs awkwardly dangling over the side. A medical team bursts through the automatic doors of the hospital with a stretcher on wheels and everyone, including the driver, unceremoniously haul Golfrid onto it.
From the video, it looks like he’s unconscious.
The stretcher, with Golfrid atop, is wheeled into the hospital and the pedicab driver quickly turns around and leaves the scene. Later, his swift exit will make more sense.
Chapter Two - What Comes Next
Unfortunately, what comes next, and which is not captured on the CCTV footage, potentially plays a part in Golfrid’s death three days later.
Once he’s inside, the hospital searches him for identification. Later, it will transpire that the pedicab driver and others who assisted Golfrid at the scene took his laptop, wallet, two mobile phones and, perhaps most ghoulishly of all, his wedding ring. His friends are particularly upset about this because, like many married men, Golfrid had put on weight in the three years he’d been married and the ring was snug on his finger. It would have needed considerable force to remove it—while he was unconscious.
Unable to identify the wounded man, the hospital makes a decision you really wish they had not made. Instead of treating him, they call the police―who arrive on the scene and transfer Golfrid to Adam Malik Hospital. The police use the license plate number of his motorbike, which has been found at the scene, and trace his family who rush to the hospital.
When they get there, they find that Golfrid has a black eye on the right side of his face and a head wound at the base of his skull. There are trails of blood running down his face and pus coming out of his right ear. He goes into surgery and part of his skull is removed to reduce the pressure on his brain caused by internal bleeding. The piece of skull is placed inside his stomach—to be reattached after three months once the swelling on his brain subsides and he recovers.
Tragically, he never does. Instead, on 6 October 2019, Golfrid succumbs to his injuries and dies in hospital without ever regaining consciousness.
Chapter Three - Autopsy
After he is pronounced dead on 6 October 2019, Adam Malik Hospital releases Golfrid’s body to his family in contravention of standard procedure.
The circumstances surrounding his death are unclear and an official investigation is needed to find out how he ended up unconscious in the Titi Kuning Underpass. Instead of preserving any possible evidence, hospital staff wash, embalm and dress Golfrid in a navy blue suit and white shirt. His head is heavily bandaged and his nose stuffed with gauze.
The family drives two hours to Golfrid’s hometown in neighbouring Simalungun in an ambulance. When they get there, the police call and ask for Golfrid’s body to be returned to Medan. The media , Golfrid’s friends and environmental groups are all starting to ask questions about how he may have died. Pressure is building for a thorough investigation. The family drives the two hours back to Medan and Golfrid is taken to local military hospital, Rumah Sakit Bhayangkara, where an autopsy is performed. Late that night, surrounded by film crews and bathed in the light of camera flashes, his body is loaded once again into an ambulance and driven back to Simalungun.
He’s buried the next day in a white coffin, in a simple plot topped with a white cross with maroon lettering that reads, “Dison Do Maradian Golfrid Siregar” or “Here Lies Golfrid Siregar” in the local Batak language.
Chapter Four - Evidence
A few days later his friend and colleague at WALHI, Khairul Bukhari, is still reeling from what has happened. He looks tired and drawn, and is slightly impatient. He doesn’t want to be interviewed and peppered with questions, so he suggests he just explains what he knows so far. There are various theories floating around about Golfrid’s death and Khairul is trying to put the pieces together. Some people are saying it was a simple traffic accident.
But Khairul is dissatisfied with this theory.
He went to the hospital the morning after Golfrid was admitted and took pictures of everything.
Motorbike:
The bike is lightly damaged—there are just a few scratches along the exhaust pipe. Considering that it presumably hit the kerb with enough force for Golfrid to fall off and sustain a serious head injury, this seems odd.
There is also a scuff mark along the exhaust which looks like red paint. It’s too low on the bike to have been caused by a collision with another motorbike, and Khairul floats the theory that it came from a car hitting Golfrid—either intentionally or accidentally.
Clothes:
Golfrid’s clothes are also intact. Dr Poaradda Nababan, a surgeon and a member of North Sumatra Province Legislative Assembly says this is wholly inconsistent with a traffic accident—the victim’s clothes are almost always torn or shredded on impact as they slide or are dragged along the ground.
His friends point out that his trousers are smeared with mud, but that there was no mud on the road in the Titi Kuning Underpass. They wonder if something happened to Golfrid at another location before he was found by the side of the road.
Injuries:
Dr Nababan also says Golfrid’s injuries are inconsistent with a motorbike crash. He has no lacerations on his hands, legs, feet or arms. Or anywhere else.
His friends say Golfrid usually wore a helmet, which the police find near the crash site, so it makes sense to presume he was also wearing it on the night he died. Had he been wearing the helmet it seems impossible that would have sustained an injury at the base of his skull. If he wasn’t wearing it for some reason, then he’d have to have either fallen off his bike backwards or somehow flipped over in the air when he hit the kerb, striking the back of his head.
Robbery:
While Golfrid was robbed of his two mobile phones, laptop, wallet and ring, the head of the criminal investigation, Eko Hartanto, makes a statement on 10 October in which he says several people who helped take Golfrid to hospital, including the pedicab driver, have been arrested for theft. But they are not charged with assaulting him.
This seems seems to disprove the possible theory that he was attacked and knocked off as part of a robbery.
Chapter Five - PT North Sumatra Hydro Energy (NSHE)
In the days that follow Golfrid’s death, human rights groups and NGOs make a series of strongly worded statements calling for a full investigation into the circumstances surrounding his death. Usman Hamid of Amnesty Indonesia says that, “There has been a growing concern among those working on environmental issues that their works are being undermined by the government.”
He also says that environmental activists in Indonesian often get a hostile response from government officials who think their work is interfering with development, and points out that these are dangerous times: another member of WALHI in Central Lombok was almost killed in early 2019 when a mob set fire to his home with him inside it, and there is a climate of hospitality in Indonesia surrounding anyone—journalists, lawyers, activists—who take on large companies and corporations accused of environmental damage.
One such case that Golfrid had worked on before his death was that of a hydropower dam in Batang Toru, South Tapanuli, North Sumatra. The project, run by PT North Sumatra Hydro Energy (NSHE) started in 2017 and costs USD1.6 billion. The dam is located in an area known for its Tapanuli orangutan, a species discovered in 2017 which is one of the most endangered in the world.
The project has been plagued with controversy since its inception.
As well as threatening the habitat of the Tapanuli orangutans, there are allegations that the Environmental Impact Assessment used to gain a license for the dam is fake. In 2019, a forestry researcher at the University of North Sumatra named Onrizal claimed that his signature had been forged on the assessment, which had also not included his observations about the damage the dam would have on the Tapanuli orangutans habitat.
Golfrid had worked on the case with WALHI and filed a motion to stop the dam being built. At the time of his death, the case is still going through an appeals process, although Golfrid is no longer working on it. He has also just reported a number of police investigators in Medan for trying to cover up the forged impact assessment by closing the case.
Chapter Six - Final Hours
On the night of his death, Golfrid tells his wife he’s going to post a package and then see some friends in a place called Marindal. But from around 5pm until the time he’s found by the side of the road in the Titi Kuning Underpass at 12.55am, several people try to call him only to find that his phone is switched off.
Friends and family find this highly unusual. Like many lawyers and activists, his two mobile phones are essential to his work—sources and clients call him at all times of the day and night, often with urgent business.
By all accounts, Golfrid visits his extended family and then goes out with some friends to play “dam” or checkers. He stops off at a local kiosk for a few drinks. The police say the autopsy reveals alcohol in his system, but the kiosk vendor says Golfrid only drank coffee. A doctor says she didn’t smell any alcohol on Golfrid when he was admitted to hospital, leading to accusations that the police are trying to paint Golfrid as a drunk in order to close the case as quickly as possible.
Since his phone was inactive, no one can accurately account for all his movements between 5pm and 12.55am.
And no one can accurately explain the head injury at the base of Golfrid’s skull; the limited damage to his motorbike and clothes; the suspicious streaks of mud on his trousers; the coloured paint found on his motorbike; or why he may have crashed in a well lit underpass that was well tarmacked. To add to the confusion, no blood is found at the scene, leading to questions of whether Golfrid was bludgeoned elsewhere and dumped by the side of the road to make it look like an accident.
Bukhari confirms that Golfrid regularly received threats, but that he hadn’t told him about any in recent months. A former colleague at WALHI who is also a member of North Sumatra Province Legislative Assembly who visited Golfrid in hospital says it, “[l]ooked like someone came up behind him and hit him over the head. Execution style.”
Questions swirl about whether this is a murder case.
Chapter Seven - Case Closed
On 11 October 2019, five days after Golfrid Siregar breathes his last breath, the police give a press conference in which Police Chief Agus Arianto says it had been raining on the night of 3 October and that Golfrid had been drinking when he lost control of his motorbike in the Titi Kuning Underpass in Medan.
His death is ruled a traffic accident. The case is formally closed.
Sources; Resources; Further Reading:
Kopi Terakhir Sang Aktivis - Tempo
Indonesian Activist’s Sudden Death Questioned - Al Jazeera
Justice for Golfrid - Medium
Allegation of forged signature casts shadow over China-backed dam in Sumatra - Mongabay
A dam threatens the world’s rarest ape - ScienceMag
All photographs provided by WALHI North Sumatra.