Wealth Without Morality Is Not Fortune, but the Corruption of Human Dignity

THE BATTLE FOR THE SOUL OF NUSANTARA

Wealth Without Morality Is Not Fortune, but the Corruption of Human Dignity

A Personal Testimony on Power, Cultural Values, the Pursuit of Wealth, and the Moral Responsibility of Indigenous Peoples

A Conversation That Changed the Way I See Fortune

Friends,

I would like to share a personal testimony that has remained with me for years. It was a conversation that challenged my understanding of power, freedom, cultural identity, and the true meaning of prosperity. More importantly, it made me reflect on a fundamental question: What is the value of a person's fortune if obtaining it requires sacrificing conscience, justice, and human dignity?

I once had a conversation with a senior Chinese official who, according to my understanding, held a high-ranking position within the Standing Committee of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP). He had studied International Geopolitics in the United States, and our conversation touched on politics, civilization, cultural identity, and the relationship between government and society.

At one point, I asked him a question that had long occupied my mind.

“If China recognizes the existence of human civilization, participates in the United Nations, and holds one of the most influential positions in the international order, why are the freedoms of its people restricted?”

I wanted to understand how a nation could become so powerful economically and politically while maintaining a system in which certain individual freedoms remained restricted.

His response surprised me.

He explained that, in his view, the issue could not be understood simply by looking at political ideology or the question of freedom. He argued that the Chinese leadership understood the character and cultural traditions of its people, shaped by generations of inherited values. He also suggested that the system he was describing could not be explained solely through communism as a political ideology.

I listened carefully. Rather than ending the conversation with a disagreement, I wanted to understand the deeper meaning behind his explanation.

So I asked him, “What exactly do you mean by culture?”

We were drinking baijiu, a traditional Chinese liquor. The atmosphere had become relaxed, and the conversation offered an opportunity to explore ideas that might otherwise have remained unspoken.

He spoke about ancestral traditions, inherited customs, and the importance of hoki—a term I understood in our conversation as fortune, luck, and prosperity.

As he explained it, fortune was something people should actively pursue. Human beings were born with nothing, he argued, and therefore had to struggle to achieve success and secure a better position in life. Whether through business, professional advancement, or other pursuits, people sought to become fortunate.

His explanation led me to a deeper question.

There is nothing inherently wrong with wanting a better life. Every person has the right to seek prosperity, provide for their family, build a business, and improve their circumstances. Ambition can inspire innovation, hard work, and meaningful contributions to society.

But what happens when the pursuit of fortune becomes more important than the principles that should guide it?

That was the question I wanted him to confront.

I asked him directly:

“Even if obtaining that fortune requires violating the law or disregarding human ethics, would you still call it good luck?”

His answer, as I remember it, was striking:

“As long as you are not caught, it is good luck. But once you are caught, it becomes bad luck.”

I laughed—not because I wanted to ridicule him, but because I was confronted with a profound difference between that reasoning and the moral philosophy I had inherited from my own cultural background.

His answer stayed with me.

If wrongdoing is considered fortunate simply because the person responsible escapes detection, then what has happened to our understanding of right and wrong? Has morality become nothing more than a calculation of risk? Has the law become an obstacle to avoid rather than a boundary that protects society?

And if a person can sleep peacefully after taking advantage of others simply because nobody has discovered the truth, what has become of the conscience?

That conversation was not merely about one individual, one country, or one political system. It opened a much larger question about human nature.

What happens to a civilization when the ability to get away with wrongdoing is mistaken for good fortune?

When Fortune Becomes an Excuse for Moral Corruption

I have never believed that prosperity itself is the enemy of humanity.

Money matters. It provides food, shelter, education, healthcare, security, and opportunities for future generations. A person who works honestly to improve their life should not be condemned for wanting financial success.

The problem begins when wealth becomes the ultimate measure of human worth and every moral principle becomes negotiable in its pursuit.

When people begin to believe that dishonesty is acceptable as long as they are not caught, integrity becomes a disadvantage. Honesty is treated as weakness. Justice becomes something to fear rather than something to uphold. Conscience is silenced whenever it threatens personal gain.

Under such a mentality, the question is no longer, “Is this right?”

The question becomes, “Can I get away with it?”

This is a dangerous inversion of human values.

A person may accumulate enormous wealth while transferring the costs of that wealth onto other people. A corporation may report impressive profits while local communities lose their land and livelihoods. An institution may celebrate economic growth while workers endure exploitation. A government may announce development while forests disappear, rivers become polluted, and Indigenous communities struggle to defend their ancestral territories.

The financial accounts may show success, but the moral accounts may reveal devastation.

We must therefore ask a question that is often ignored in discussions about economic growth:

Who pays the real price for another person's fortune?

Is it the worker who receives too little for their labour? Is it the family displaced from ancestral land? Is it the Indigenous community whose relationship with its environment is destroyed? Is it the child who inherits polluted water, degraded soil, and a damaged ecosystem?

Or is it the next generation, which must live with the consequences of decisions made by people who have already accumulated their wealth and moved on?

If other people must sacrifice their dignity, security, and future so that a few can become richer, then that fortune deserves serious moral scrutiny.

We should not confuse the accumulation of wealth with the achievement of greatness.

A person's financial position tells us what they possess. It does not automatically tell us who they are.

Freedom, Power, and the Responsibility to Others

Our conversation also led me to reflect on freedom.

How should we understand freedom within a political system that restricts certain individual liberties? Can economic opportunity compensate for the absence of meaningful political freedom?

My interlocutor's explanation emphasized competition and the pursuit of fortune. Yet competition and freedom are not the same thing.

A person may be allowed to compete in business while having limited opportunities to challenge political authority. Someone may accumulate substantial wealth while lacking the freedom to express dissent without fear. Economic success alone does not establish that a society is politically free.

True freedom requires more than the opportunity to pursue personal advantage. It requires dignity, accountability, the protection of rights, and safeguards against arbitrary power.

At the same time, I recognize that a single conversation cannot define an entire civilization. Chinese society is diverse, and Chinese people hold different beliefs, moral convictions, and interpretations of their own traditions.

My testimony is not an accusation against Chinese people because of their ethnicity or nationality. Nor am I suggesting that one political ideology alone is responsible for corruption.

The danger I am describing can exist anywhere.

It can emerge under communism, capitalism, oligarchy, authoritarianism, or any other political and economic arrangement. It can exist in wealthy nations and poor nations, in private corporations and public institutions, and among individuals who claim to act in the name of progress, patriotism, religion, or development.

Whenever power is protected from accountability, whenever profit is treated as sacred, and whenever wrongdoing is excused because the perpetrator has sufficient influence to escape consequences, the victims are often the same: ordinary people, vulnerable communities, and future generations.

The names of the systems may differ, but the moral failure remains.

This is why I believe that freedom must be accompanied by responsibility. Power must be accompanied by accountability. Prosperity must be accompanied by justice.

Without these principles, success can become a sophisticated form of exploitation.

The Batak Philosophy of 3H: A Different Measure of Prosperity

As a daughter of the Batak people and an Indigenous woman of Nusantara, I naturally began to reflect on the values I had inherited.

My cultural background has taught me to consider prosperity in relation to family, generations, dignity, and the responsibilities we carry toward our community.

One important Batak philosophical framework is known as 3H: Hamoraon, Hagabeon, and Hasangapon.

These concepts are often associated with prosperity, posterity, and honour. Their deeper significance, however, cannot be reduced to a simple pursuit of money, descendants, or social status.

Hamoraon — Prosperity

Hamoraon concerns material well-being and the ability to provide for life. Prosperity is important because families need food, shelter, education, healthcare, and security.

But prosperity should not be measured solely by the size of a person's bank account or the number of properties they own.

What meaning does Hamoraon have if wealth is accumulated through deception, exploitation, or the suffering of others?

If a person becomes rich by taking what belongs to another community, has that person truly achieved prosperity—or merely accumulated possessions at someone else's expense?

Hagabeon — Posterity and the Continuation of Generations

Hagabeon concerns the continuation and flourishing of generations. It invites us to think beyond ourselves and consider what kind of future we are preparing for our children and descendants.

What is the value of leaving our children substantial wealth if we also leave them a damaged environment, a corrupt political culture, and a society in which dishonesty is rewarded?

What is the meaning of prosperity if the next generation inherits financial assets but loses access to clean water, healthy forests, secure livelihoods, and the freedom to live with dignity?

A responsible generation does not ask only what it can accumulate during its lifetime. It asks what it must protect so that those who come after it can live well.

Hasangapon — Honour and Dignity

Hasangapon concerns honour, dignity, and respect.

True honour cannot be manufactured by money, purchased through influence, or guaranteed by holding a prestigious position. It must be grounded in conduct.

A person may command respect because of wealth or political power, but genuine honour is tested by how that person treats others—especially those who have less power and cannot offer anything in return.

What remains of Hasangapon if a person's reputation depends on deception? What value does a prestigious title possess if the person carrying it disregards justice?

In the philosophy I seek to uphold, honour must be earned through integrity.

These three values invite us to examine prosperity more deeply. They do not require us to reject money, ambition, or success. Nor should they be used to claim that every Batak person interprets tradition in precisely the same way.

Rather, they remind us that material achievement should contribute to a meaningful and honourable life.

Wealth should serve life, not become the master of life.

To me, ancestral values are not merely words to display during ceremonies or traditions to invoke when we wish to establish our identity. They are responsibilities to practise, particularly when doing what is right becomes difficult or costly.

Their true worth is tested when nobody is watching, when there is an opportunity to cheat without being discovered, and when we must choose between personal gain and the dignity of another human being.

That is where character reveals itself.

Indonesia: A Nation Rich in Resources, Yet Facing Questions of Justice

When I reflect on this conversation, my thoughts inevitably turn to Indonesia.

Nusantara is blessed with extraordinary natural resources, cultural diversity, and Indigenous communities whose knowledge of the land, forests, rivers, and seas has been developed and transmitted across generations.

Yet natural wealth does not automatically produce social justice.

A country can possess abundant natural resources while many of its people remain economically insecure. It can export valuable commodities while communities near extraction sites struggle to protect their land, water, health, and livelihoods.

It can announce impressive economic achievements while citizens continue to ask who truly benefits from the nation's wealth.

These are legitimate questions that deserve serious examination.

Who controls the resources that belong to the nation? How are the benefits distributed? Are local communities consulted meaningfully before decisions affect their ancestral territories? Are environmental laws enforced consistently? Are powerful corporations and public officials held to the same standards as ordinary citizens?

And when environmental destruction or social injustice occurs, who is required to take responsibility?

These questions are not expressions of hostility toward business or development. They are demands for accountability.

Development should improve human life, not simply increase the wealth of those who already possess economic and political influence.

Natural resources should not become an excuse to disregard the rights of Indigenous peoples. Economic growth should not be used to silence communities that raise legitimate concerns. National prosperity should not be celebrated without examining the social and environmental costs that may accompany it.

If the benefits are concentrated in a few hands while the costs are imposed on the many, then we must question the fairness of that arrangement.

A nation's true prosperity cannot be measured by exports, investment figures, infrastructure, or the fortunes of its wealthiest citizens alone.

It must also be measured by the security of its people, the integrity of its institutions, the condition of its environment, and the dignity afforded to those who have the least power.

For me, this is especially important when considering Indigenous communities.

Our relationship with ancestral land is not always adequately represented by its market price. Land can sustain food, water, cultural identity, traditional knowledge, community relationships, and a sense of belonging that has endured across generations.

When that relationship is damaged, the loss cannot always be repaired by financial compensation.

This is why economic decisions involving Indigenous territories must be approached with respect for rights, meaningful participation, environmental responsibility, and the long-term interests of the communities concerned.

A nation cannot claim to protect its heritage while treating the people who preserve that heritage as obstacles to economic ambition.

Nor can it claim to build a prosperous future if the foundations of that future are laid through injustice.

The Inheritance We Leave to Our Children

When I think about the future of Indonesia, I think about the inheritance we are creating for the next generation.

We often speak about inheritance as though it consists primarily of money, property, business interests, prestigious family names, and political influence.

But there is another form of inheritance that deserves equal attention: the values we teach through our actions.

We can leave our children substantial wealth and still leave them spiritually impoverished.

We can leave them prestigious names and still leave them without honour.

We can leave them political influence and still leave them without justice.

We can teach them how to become successful while failing to teach them when success has come at too great a cost.

If children grow up watching powerful people escape accountability, they may conclude that the law is only for those without influence. If they see dishonesty rewarded, they may learn that integrity is an unnecessary burden. If they see communities sacrificed for profit, they may begin to believe that human dignity has a price.

That is a dangerous legacy.

But if we leave our children integrity, wisdom, compassion, respect for the law, and the courage to stand for truth, we give them something money alone cannot purchase.

They may not inherit great wealth, but they will possess the moral foundation to build a meaningful life without having to destroy the lives of others.

This is where I believe the Batak philosophy of 3H carries a message that reaches beyond one ethnic community.

Hamoraon asks us to pursue prosperity responsibly.

Hagabeon asks us to consider the generations that will follow us.

Hasangapon asks us to remember that honour must be reflected in our conduct.

Together, these values encourage us to think about success not merely as an individual achievement, but as a responsibility toward others.

The future of a people depends not only on what they own, but also on what they refuse to betray.

A Testimony to Nusantara: The Moral Responsibility of Indigenous Peoples

As an Indigenous woman of Nusantara and a daughter of the Batak people, I believe that preserving our ancestral heritage requires more than remembering where we came from.

It requires us to examine how we live.

We cannot speak proudly of our ancestors while abandoning the principles that gave their teachings meaning. We cannot invoke cultural identity only when it brings recognition, status, or political advantage. And we cannot claim to defend our heritage while remaining indifferent to injustice committed against other communities.

Our traditions should not become weapons against other peoples. They should become foundations for a more honourable society.

The moral responsibility of Indigenous peoples is not to claim that we are inherently better than anyone else. It is to preserve the wisdom that can help humanity recognise the consequences of greed, arrogance, and the misuse of power.

Every community has its strengths and its failures. Every culture must confront the question of whether its stated values are reflected in the conduct of its people.

Our responsibility is to protect what is worth preserving, correct what causes harm, and ensure that ancestral knowledge remains relevant to the challenges of the present.

For me, this includes protecting land and water, respecting the dignity of workers, defending the rights of vulnerable communities, demanding accountability from those who exercise power, and teaching future generations that no amount of money can turn injustice into righteousness.

It also means recognising that moral responsibility cannot be transferred entirely to governments or institutions.

Laws and institutions are essential, but a society's moral condition is also shaped by the choices individuals make every day.

Do we tell the truth when lying would benefit us?

Do we respect another person's rights when we have the power to disregard them?

Do we speak when silence protects wrongdoing?

Do we remain honest when dishonesty appears more profitable?

And do we continue to defend what is right when doing so carries a personal cost?

These are not abstract philosophical questions. They are the daily tests through which the character of a society is formed.

My Final Message: Fortune Must Never Become Greater Than Conscience

Friends,

I am not condemning people because of their ethnicity, nationality, religion, political affiliation, or economic position.

I am challenging a principle that can corrupt any human being, regardless of origin:

The belief that anything is permissible as long as it brings profit and remains undiscovered.

That principle is an enemy of justice. It weakens the rule of law, destroys public trust, harms communities, and turns human intelligence into an instrument of exploitation.

We must reject the idea that success excuses wrongdoing, that wealth establishes moral superiority, or that escaping punishment makes an unjust act acceptable.

A person may be financially fortunate without being morally honourable.

The true measure of that person's character lies in how the wealth was obtained, how power is exercised, how other people are treated, and what consequences are left behind.

Money can purchase property, but it cannot purchase ancestral wisdom.

Money can secure a position, but it cannot manufacture genuine honour.

Money can influence institutions, but it cannot make a falsehood become the truth.

Money can conceal wrongdoing for a time, but concealment does not erase responsibility.

And no political title, corporate empire, or prestigious family name can permanently transform injustice into justice.

Wealth without integrity is an empty victory.

Power without accountability is a threat to justice.

Intelligence without conscience is a danger to humanity.

And tradition without moral practice is merely a name without a soul.

I believe we must return to a more meaningful understanding of prosperity—one in which ambition is guided by conscience, economic development respects human dignity, political power is subject to accountability, and the protection of nature is understood as a responsibility to future generations.

Let us teach our children that prosperity matters, but not at any price.

Let us teach them that honour must be earned through conduct, not demanded through status.

Let us teach them that freedom must be accompanied by responsibility, that the law must apply to the powerful as well as the powerless, and that faith must be reflected in how we treat our fellow human beings.

Let us stand for truth even when it costs us something.

Let us uphold justice even when those who violate it are powerful.

Let us protect our ancestral lands, our waters, our forests, our communities, and the generations who will inherit them.

Let us never become so fascinated by wealth that we forget the people whose lives may have been sacrificed to obtain it.

And let us never become so impressed by power that we stop asking whether that power is being used justly.

For the greatest inheritance we can leave our children is not simply a prosperous household, a prestigious name, or a powerful position.

It is a world in which they can live with dignity, a society in which truth still matters, institutions that can be held accountable, and a moral foundation strong enough to guide them when temptation offers an easier path.

The true measure of a civilization is not how much wealth it creates, but whether it can create that wealth without sacrificing its humanity.

The true measure of a people is not how successfully they pursue fortune, but whether they remain honourable when fortune tempts them to abandon what is right.

And the true measure of an individual is not what they can get away with, but what they refuse to do even when nobody is watching.

May we never become so wealthy that we forget our ancestors, so powerful that we disregard the law, so clever that we deceive ourselves, or so ambitious that we lose our conscience before God.

May we honour our ancestors through our actions, uphold justice through our integrity, and protect the dignity of those who will come after us.

Because in the end, fortune will pass, power will change hands, and material possessions will eventually belong to someone else.

But the consequences of our actions—and the values we choose to uphold—will continue to shape the lives of others long after we are gone.

Let us build prosperity without exploitation, exercise power without arrogance, pursue freedom with responsibility, and preserve our heritage without losing our humanity.

That is the battle for the soul of Nusantara.

That is the responsibility we owe to our ancestors, to one another, to our children, and to the Creator.

Salam Nusantara.

May truth guide our minds, justice strengthen our actions, and wisdom preserve the dignity of the generations to come. 🙏