Indonesia's Wildfire Crisis Chokes Southeast Asia as Blame Game Intensifies

Indonesia is burning, and the smoke is choking millions across Southeast Asia. Over the past weeks, the air above Kalimantan and Sumatra has turned a sickly amber. Schools have closed in Malaysia. Singapore's famous skyline has vanished into haze. The anger is no longer quiet. It is directed at the companies accused of setting these fires and at governments that have watched them burn.

This is Indonesia's worst wildfire season in a decade. According to Nusantara Atlas, an independent forest monitoring platform, more than one million hotspots have been recorded across the country, consuming roughly 900,000 hectares of land. The scale is staggering. The cause, in many cases, is deliberate. Companies and farmers have long used a method called slash and burn—razing vegetation to clear land for agriculture. It is cheap. It is fast. It is also illegal in Indonesia, though enforcement has been sporadic at best. This year, an unusually strong El Niño has made the dry season fiercer than normal, turning what might have been manageable fires into a regional catastrophe.

The practice itself is not new. Indonesian farmers have used slash and burn for generations to create nutrient-rich soil for crops. But what was once a small-scale agricultural technique has become something else entirely. Commercial farming operations now use fire to clear vast tracts of land, and the scale makes these blazes nearly impossible to control. Activists and government investigations have repeatedly accused major companies of treating fire as a cost-effective alternative to mechanical clearing. The Indonesian government has finally begun to respond. President Prabowo Subianto has called the practice "ecological terrorism" and demanded tougher penalties. Last month, authorities suspended the operating licenses of 26 companies linked to the fires and opened investigations into others, with promises to pursue criminal cases in court.

But the crisis has exposed something larger: the companies responsible do not all answer to Jakarta. A Greenpeace report released this month identified businesses based in Singapore and Malaysia with operations on Indonesian land where fires are burning. First Resources, a Singapore-based palm oil company, had more than 30 haze source points recorded on land managed by its two Indonesian subsidiaries between August and September. The company responded with a statement asserting its "strict zero burning policy" and robust fire prevention measures. Kuala Lumpur Kepong, a Malaysian plantation group, faced similar accusations regarding its subsidiary PT Menteng Jaya Sawit Perdana, which managed land where 19 haze source points were detected. The company claimed that most fires originated outside its concession area and have been extinguished, and stated it does not permit open burning.

The diplomatic tensions are as thick as the smoke. In 2015, when Singapore issued summonses against Indonesian companies under its Transboundary Haze Pollution Act—legislation passed in 2014 to hold firms accountable for cross-border pollution—Jakarta responded with fury. The move, officials said, damaged bilateral relations. Indonesia refused to cooperate, and Singapore authorities could not obtain the information they needed to prosecute. That same year, Indonesia's then-vice-president Jusuf Kalla made a comment that still stings: for eleven months, he said, Singapore enjoyed clean air from Indonesia without thanks, and now they complained about one month of haze. Last weekend, the wound reopened when Syahganda Nainggolan, who heads Indonesia's government communications agency, said the fires were beyond human control and reminded Singapore and Malaysia that "the oxygen in neighbouring Singapore and Malaysia also comes from our forests." He added, "When there is no smoke, we send oxygen." The video circulated widely on social media, drawing ridicule and anger from across the region.

Yet Indonesia has also apologized for the haze in the past, and this year officials have thanked Singapore and Malaysia for offering assistance, even as Jakarta has not formally requested international support. The contradiction reflects a government caught between domestic pressure and regional resentment. Inside Indonesia, civil society groups are taking matters into their own hands. In Pontianak, West Kalimantan, several organizations have filed a class action lawsuit against the Indonesian government and President Prabowo, accusing them of gross negligence over the recurring toxic haze. They are demanding that the government declare the haze a national disaster, which would unlock recovery measures including subsidized healthcare. A similar case was filed last year in South Sumatra but was dismissed.

Meanwhile, on the ground, millions of people are simply trying to survive. Imrayedi, a 63-year-old motorcycle taxi driver in Pekanbaru on Sumatra, told the BBC last week that he cannot breathe properly and suffers constant headaches from the air. But he still has to work. "The government must also think about common people like us," he said. "Please take action to find a solution so that this haze problem can be resolved immediately." His words carry the weight of a region waiting to see whether governments and companies will finally act, or whether the smoke will simply drift on, year after year, as it has before.