Indonesia has finally passed its long-awaited Criminal Procedure Code (KUHAP) after more than four decades of debate.
In principle, this is a historic step: Indonesia’s criminal justice system urgently needs modernization, especially as criminal investigations increasingly rely on digital evidence, forensic technology and cross-border cooperation. A contemporary KUHAP is necessary, inevitable and long overdue.
Yet the legislative process that produced the code raised serious questions. Many academics, civil society groups, lawyers and justice reform advocates have expressed concern that the deliberation was conducted too quickly and without sufficient transparency.
Why did DPR appear so eager to pass KUHAP? And what does this accelerated timeline mean for Indonesia’s future justice system?
The first explanation is political. Major legislation often moves rapidly when the legislature is approaching the end of its term. The KUHAP is one of Indonesia’s largest legal reforms, comparable in scale to the Penal Code (KUHP).
Had it not been passed this year, DPR might restart discussion from the beginning, effectively resetting a decade-long process. Completing KUHAP before the year ends becomes a legislative legacy, creating institutional incentives for speed at the expense of public deliberation.
A second factor is institutional pressure. Police, investigators, prosecutors and the Ministry of Law and Human Rights have long demanded a new procedural code that reflects contemporary investigative needs.
Digital forensics, data access, electronic searches, financial tracking and cross-border cooperation all require clarity– issues never envisioned when the 1981 KUHAP was drafted. For law enforcement, delays prolong legal gaps and operational uncertainty.
To its credit, the DPR conducted public consultation through a series of Rapat Dengar Pendapat (parliamentary hearings)/Rapat Jejak Pendapat Umum (public hearings), with practitioners, academics and civil society groups.
Formally, participation existed. Substantively, however, many argue that the inputs were not meaningfully reflected in the final text.
This reflects a recurring pattern: participation is fulfilled “on paper”, yet the drafting choices remain largely insulated from public scrutiny. Scholars call it procedural participation rather than substantive participation.
For a law governing arrest, detention and evidence collection for more than 280 million Indonesians, the bar for participation should be far higher. Reforming procedural law is not merely a technical exercise; it concerns rights and liberties.
The new KUHAP introduces several positive reforms. It formally recognizes electronic evidence, regulating digital searches, requiring judicial warrants, strengthening victims’ rights and incorporates restorative justice under court supervision.
However, the article concerning seizures and searches requires permission from the District Court, but can be waived by referring to “urgent circumstances,” which can be explained based on the investigator’s judgment.
This has the potential to lead to arbitrary actions by investigators, which would be detrimental to the public. What law enforcement perceives as “certainty”, citizens may perceive as expanded coercive powers. Without robust safeguards, new investigative tools can easily become instruments of overreach.
Furthermore, regarding searches and seizures of electronic information and documents, synchronization with data storage and management is necessary to prevent privacy violations caused by misjudgments and imprudent data management, as stipulated in the Data Protection Law.
However, modernisation does not automatically mean stronger protections. In key areas, the KUHAP expands state authority more quickly than it reinforces protection. Although warrants are required for many intrusive actors, the law still allows exceptions based on “urgent circumstances” – a term that remains broadly defined and far looser than international practice, which limits exceptions to narrowly tailored emergencies with strict judicial oversight.
KUHAP also lays the foundation for digital forensics and electronic surveillance. While essential, these tools carry privacy risks not matched by clear protocols on chain of custody, data integrity, and independent oversight. Beyond referring to the Personal Data Protection Law, Indonesia still lacks specific procedural safeguards and sanctions for violations occurring during criminal investigations.
The chapter on the Information Technology-Based Justice System, while forward-looking, focuses mainly on the provision of electronic information. It does not address the use of AI, data storage standards or technological limitations.
By contrast, countries like the United States and China have already integrated AI and digital systems comprehensively into their procedural frameworks. China, for example, aims to fully integrate AI into judicial processes by 2030, supported by detailed procedural regulations.
If we learn from China’s practice, the use of AI is comprehensively implemented in its procedural law and Supreme Court regulations. By 2025, the target is for AI to be implemented in internal court management and external public services, and by 2030, it will be fully utilized at all stages of the judicial process.
Further provisions on Indonesia’s Information Technology-Based Justice System will be regulated by a Presidential Regulation. Implementing regulations are necessary, but their legal force merits further scrutiny, as Government Regulations may be more appropriate given the chapter’s significant implications.
Technology should be understood not merely as an administrative tool, but as a crucial enabler for access to justice across Indonesia’s vast geography.
Equally important are consequences for procedural violations. Many countries adopt the “exclusionary rule,” automatically rendering illegally obtained evidence inadmissible. This ensures investigators cannot benefit from unlawful conduct.
Indonesia’s KUHAP acknowledges rights but stops short of fully adopting explicit remedies, leaving enforcement uneven. Access to legal counsel and protections for whistleblowers remain similarly limited. Restorative justice, though promising, requires strict boundaries, skilled facilitators and genuine consent from victims to avoid misuse or coercion.
Ultimately, the impact of this new KUHAP will depend on implementation. Secondary regulations, institutional training, and judicial interpretation will determine whether it strengthens justice, and reproduces existing vulnerabilities. Reform must balance modern investigative needs with firm enforceable protections for citizens’ rights.
Modernization is necessary. But justice demands more than efficiency, it requires transparency, accountability and safeguards grounded in the rule of law.
Randy Taufik is legal counsel and Oxford alumni specializing in corporate and tech law
Ahmad Novindri Aji Sukma is a regulatory compliance lawyer based in London and PhD researcher at the University of Cambridge.
