PALMOILMAGAZINE, JAKARTA — Monday morning, July 14, 2025, felt unusually still in the Ragunan area of South Jakarta. The air seemed to hold its breath — not just carrying dew, but also sorrow. A gentle yet profound loss had touched the world of Indonesian plantations: Dr. Ir. Wawan Hardiwinata, M.Si., CSD-ISPO, had passed away.
He breathed his last in a modest home, filled not with extravagance but with meaning. That house was more than a place to live — it was a sanctuary of thought, writing, and reflection. Books on palm oil policies, development ethics, and smallholder research filled the shelves. By his side, his wife, Maranthina Nurshanty, accompanied him in serene silence. Their only son, Rafdi, is currently studying and working in Germany, following his father’s path — striving for a fairer and more sustainable Indonesia.
Wawan Hardiwinata was far from a stranger in the governance of Indonesia’s palm oil sector. Yet he was more than a technical bureaucrat. He was a bridge — connecting reason and conscience, linking policymakers with the often-ignored voices of plasma smallholders. In every forum, paper, and discussion room, he carried a firm conviction: Indonesia’s palm oil must advance, but never at the cost of justice and sustainability.
“Sustainability is not just about certification. It’s about justice — for everyone whose lives depend on palm oil, from small farmers to future generations,” he once said in an interview with Palmoilmagazine.com.
To his peers, Wawan was calm yet steadfast. In a plantation forum last year, one colleague likened him to an old oil palm tree:
“Pak Wawan was like a mature palm — its roots run deep and hidden, but its fruits are always present and beneficial to many.”
He was never afraid to speak up — even when his views weren’t popular. He championed the importance of legal land rights for plasma farmers, advocated for secure and fair partnerships, and emphasized the vital roles of banks and insurance in supporting the Smallholders Palm Oil Replanting Program (PSR).
“PSR isn’t just about replanting. It’s about preparing for the future. That’s why we need banks to accompany farmers until harvest, and insurance to protect them when FFB prices drop,” he once explained.
Though his voice has fallen silent, his legacy endures. He leaves behind not just writings and ideas, but a clear path of thought — and the courage to speak truth amid a noisy tangle of interests.
Perhaps in an old notebook in the corner of his study, one could find the principle that guided him: The honor of a nation is reflected in how it treats its land, its people, and its future generations.
Today, the palm oil sector has lost one of its guardians. Yet Wawan’s voice will never truly disappear. He has become part of the nation’s roots — flowing beneath, strengthening, and continuing to grow.
Farewell, Pak Wawan.
Your voice remains — a quiet strength in the soul of this land. (P1)
