In a country as vast and diverse as Indonesia, development has always meant more than building roads or power grids. Nowhere is this more true than in Papua, the easternmost province often described as Indonesia’s “last frontier.” For decades, Papua has been the focus of government efforts to close economic gaps, improve connectivity, and provide access to essential services. But during a pivotal meeting in Jakarta, Indonesia’s Minister of Religious Affairs, Nasaruddin Umar, issued a powerful reminder: true development must nourish not only the land but also the spirit.
A Message from the Heart of Governance
On August 25, 2025, Minister Nasaruddin received a high-level delegation from Papua and Southwest Papua. The visit included the Governor of Southwest Papua, the Deputy Governor of West Papua, and regional officials from the Ministry of Religious Affairs. While the meeting itself was expected to focus on technical matters—such as religious programs and educational initiatives—it quickly became clear that Minister Nasaruddin had something deeper to say.
Speaking with solemn conviction, he said,
“The acceleration of all forms of development in Papua must be balanced—physical and spiritual must run in parallel. Roads and infrastructure matter, but so do peace, character, and the soul of our people.”
In that moment, he reframed the very foundation of Papua’s development discourse. He was not rejecting physical development. On the contrary, he welcomed it. But he warned against a one-sided approach that builds without bonding, that constructs without connecting.
The Forgotten Side of Development
Papua has long been a focus of central government attention. Billions have been spent on new roads, airports, bridges, health facilities, and schools. While the physical progress is visible, the region continues to face deep-rooted challenges—including social inequality, cultural marginalization, religious fragmentation, and environmental degradation.
This, according to Nasaruddin Umar, is why spiritual development cannot be left behind.
“We must raise the quality of religious education, strengthen interfaith tolerance, and ensure that Papua’s youth grow up to be religious, peaceful, and wise,” he explained. “This is spiritual infrastructure—it’s just as important as roads and buildings.”
His words echoed with clarity, challenging Indonesia’s bureaucratic systems to think beyond bricks and mortar. In Papua, the human foundation must come first.
The Symbol of the Matoa Tree: An Ecotheological Vision
Perhaps the most memorable part of the minister’s message was his symbolic proposal: planting one million matoa trees across Papua. Matoa, a native tree of Papua, carries deep cultural significance. Its fruit nourishes, its branches shelter, and its roots run deep in Papuan soil. For Minister Nasaruddin, the matoa represents not only environmental sustainability but also spiritual regeneration.
“This is not just tree planting,” he said. “It is part of an ecotheological approach—healing the environment while nourishing the human spirit.”
The concept of ecotheology, though still unfamiliar to many, is rooted in the idea that caring for nature is a form of spiritual devotion. It encourages faith communities to be guardians of the Earth and uses environmental action as a path to divine connection.
In Papua, where the land is sacred and nature is intertwined with tradition, this message resonates powerfully. It aligns with indigenous Papuan cosmology, where forests are living beings and rivers are ancestors.
Why now? A Critical Turning Point for Papua
This call for a new approach comes at a crucial time. Despite years of physical infrastructure projects, Papua still records some of the highest poverty rates in Indonesia. Education gaps persist. Access to quality healthcare remains uneven. And tensions between local communities and outside stakeholders continue to flare.
In many places, development is seen not as inclusion, but as intrusion.
This is why spiritual balance is essential. By investing in religious education, interfaith dialogue, and cultural preservation, the government can build trust and foster unity—two pillars just as critical as bridges or hospitals.
Minister Nasaruddin’s message is not merely spiritual rhetoric. It is a strategic pivot, suggesting that only holistic development will lead to peace and progress.
What Does Spiritual Development Look Like?
Spiritual development, as envisioned by the Ministry of Religious Affairs, involves:
- Strengthening religious education across faiths
- Empowering local faith leaders and traditional elders
- Supporting interfaith collaboration
- Promoting values of peace, tolerance, and coexistence
- Integrating environmental stewardship into religious teachings
These efforts aren’t just about religion—they’re about building a resilient society. A society where Papuan youth can grow up with moral clarity, cultural pride, and national identity.
Community Support and Local Wisdom
The response from Papuan leaders has been largely positive. Many welcome the shift toward contextualized, culturally aware development. Religious leaders, in particular, have praised the proposal to plant matoa trees as both symbolic and practical.
In many indigenous Papuan traditions, development is not a linear process but a cycle of harmony between humans, spirits, and the Earth. By aligning development with local belief systems, the government is more likely to gain community participation—and prevent the alienation that often accompanies top-down projects.
As Reverend Yonas Mambraku, a church leader in Wamena, said:
“Our people want roads and schools. But we also want our children to pray, to care for their land, and to know who they are. Development without soul is not development.”
A Blueprint for the Nation?
Though the message is targeted at Papua, its implications extend far beyond. In many parts of Indonesia—rural Kalimantan, the interior of Sulawesi, remote islands in NTT—the same dynamic exists: physical development outpaces spiritual and cultural growth.
Minister Nasaruddin’s call may offer a national blueprint: a reminder that economic advancement must go hand-in-hand with moral progress, environmental care, and social cohesion.
It’s also a vision that aligns with global development frameworks, including the UN Sustainable Development Goals, which stress the importance of inclusive, equitable, and culturally sensitive growth.
Conclusion
Papua does need roads, schools, and hospitals. It needs digital connectivity, market access, and job creation. But it also needs soul. It needs roots, like the matoa tree. It needs spiritual infrastructure—systems that foster belonging, wisdom, and harmony.
By calling for balanced physical and spiritual development, Minister Nasaruddin Umar has reminded the nation of something deeply profound: that the best development is not just seen but felt.
When a child in Papua learns not only to read but also to respect; when a community gains a health clinic and a center for prayer; when a mountain road leads not just to a market but also to mutual understanding—that is when development becomes transformation.
In Papua, as in all corners of Indonesia, the path forward is clearest when stone and spirit walk together.