Socio Today
In the heart of the Maros-Pangkep karst region, a landscape defined by towering limestone towers and ancient secrets, the rhythmic sound of children splashing in a natural pool echoes against the cliffs of Kampung Belae. This pool, located directly in front of Leang Kassi—a prehistoric cave site adorned with ancient rock art—serves as the daily backdrop for Haeruddin, a man whose life has been inextricably linked to the preservation of human history. For over three decades, Haeruddin has served as a "juru pelihara" or site guardian, bearing the responsibility of protecting Leang Kassi and its neighbor, Leang Kajuara, located some 400 meters away. His story is not merely one of employment, but a narrative of ancestral legacy, the challenges of modern conservation, and the quiet dedication required to safeguard some of the world’s oldest cultural treasures.
A Legacy Written in Stone: The Chronology of a Guardian
Haeruddin’s journey into the world of archaeology and conservation began long before he received an official paycheck. He is a second-generation guardian, following in the footsteps of his father, Ambo Kebo, who spent his life traversing the rugged terrain of Kampung Belae to monitor the caves. As a child, Haeruddin was a constant shadow to his father, learning the layout of the karst labyrinth and the significance of the "lukisan cadas" (rock paintings) that decorate the cave walls. This early immersion provided him with an informal education in prehistoric art that no textbook could replicate.
His professional timeline reflects the shifting landscape of Indonesian civil service and heritage management. Haeruddin first entered the fold as an honorary worker for the Balai Pelestarian Cagar Budaya (BPCB) of South Sulawesi—now reorganized as the Balai Pelestarian Kebudayaan (BPK)—between 1982 and 1984. However, the uncertainties of government contracts saw a hiatus in his official tenure until 1993, when the doors for honorary staff reopened. His decades of persistence finally culminated in his appointment as a permanent Civil Servant (Aparatur Sipil Negara or ASN) in 2006. Now 58 years old, Haeruddin stands at the precipice of retirement, scheduled for December 2023, marking the end of a 32-year official career and a lifetime of unofficial service.
The Significance of the Maros-Pangkep Karst
To understand the weight of Haeruddin’s responsibility, one must look at the broader context of the region he protects. Kampung Belae, situated in the Biraeng District of the Pangkajene and Islands Regency (Pangkep), is home to 27 distinct prehistoric sites. These sites are part of the Maros-Pangkep UNESCO Global Geopark, a designation that recognizes the area’s international geological and archaeological importance.
The caves in this region contain some of the oldest figurative art in the world. While Haeruddin’s caves, Leang Kassi and Leang Kajuara, are local landmarks, they belong to a network of sites where researchers have dated hand stencils and animal depictions to at least 40,000 to 45,000 years ago. The archaeological remains at Belae are diverse, ranging from "sampah dapur" (kitchen middens/mounds of shells) and stone tools to bone fragments and pottery shards. For Haeruddin, these are not just artifacts; they are the fingerprints of ancestors who navigated these same karst corridors at the dawn of human creativity.
Navigating the Intersection of Community and Conservation
One of the most complex aspects of Haeruddin’s tenure has been the "advocacy of awareness." Unlike remote archaeological sites, the caves of Kampung Belae are integrated into the daily lives of the villagers. The proximity of Leang Kassi to a popular swimming hole and local residences creates a unique set of challenges that require a delicate touch.
Haeruddin recalls a specific instance involving a local resident named Daeng Ola, who established a small tented stall (warung) near the entrance of Leang Kassi. The stall served visitors who came to swim in the karst-fed pool, providing a vital source of income for the family through the sale of snacks and drinks. From a strict conservation standpoint, the proximity of commercial activity posed a risk of vandalism, littering, and micro-climatic changes that could damage the ancient pigments.
Faced with pressure from his superiors at the Cultural Preservation Office, Haeruddin found himself in a dilemma. The land occupied by the stall was privately owned, limiting his legal authority to force a relocation. Instead of resorting to bureaucratic rigidity, Haeruddin employed a strategy of "dialogue and respect." He approached the community as a fellow villager and a respected elder, explaining that the cave was a protected government asset and that the villagers were the primary stakeholders in its survival. By framing the residents as "co-guardians" rather than obstacles, he managed to mitigate the risks of vandalism while allowing the local economy to function. His philosophy—"neither too hard nor too soft"—has become a blueprint for community-based heritage management in the region.
The Silent Profession: A Life of Solitary Vigilance
The role of a cave guardian is often described as a "silent profession." Every morning, Haeruddin and his colleagues gather at the "Rumah Informasi" (Information House) in Kampung Belae to sign the attendance register and exchange brief updates. Once the formalities are over, the guardians disperse to their respective sites, entering a world of solitude.
Inside the caves, there are no colleagues to converse with and no modern distractions. Haeruddin spends hours in the cool, damp silence of the karst, monitoring the state of the rock art. He has developed his own hypotheses about the paintings, noting the variations in color—from deep ochre to yellowish hues—and the distribution of motifs like hand stencils and "rusa" (deer). While he lacks a formal degree in archaeology, his decades of observation, combined with "eavesdropping" on visiting international researchers, have given him a profound understanding of the site’s nuances.
His maintenance routine is manual and meticulous. He avoids burning fallen leaves near the cave entrance, as the smoke can settle on the cave walls and accelerate the degradation of the ancient art. Instead, he gathers the debris by hand and disposes of it far from the site. This quiet labor is performed far from the public eye, often for meager wages that necessitated supplementary income. To support his wife, Hasna, and their children, Haeruddin spent years working as a farmer and even a mobile ice cream vendor, pedaling a bicycle cart after his shifts at the cave.
Impact and Implications for Heritage Management
As Haeruddin prepares to retire, his departure raises significant questions about the future of site guardianship in Indonesia. His career highlights several critical points for the Balai Pelestarian Kebudayaan and the Ministry of Education, Culture, Research, and Technology:
- The Human Factor in Conservation: Technical measures like gates and fences are secondary to the social capital built by guardians like Haeruddin. His status as a community leader allowed for a level of protection that law enforcement alone could not provide.
- Economic Disparity: The reliance on "honorary" workers for decades, often with low pay and high responsibility, remains a challenge in the preservation sector. Haeruddin’s son, Ady Supriadi, recalls his father’s struggle to fund his university education, highlighting the personal sacrifices made by those protecting national treasures.
- Knowledge Transfer: While Haeruddin’s son Ady has not followed his father into official guardianship, he has inherited a deep knowledge of the sites and has developed his own academic interest in the caves. This "inheritance of memory" is vital for the continuity of local history.
Conclusion: The End of an Era in Kampung Belae
Haeruddin’s 32-year career is a testament to the power of persistence. He has guarded the transition of these caves from obscure local landmarks to recognized components of a UNESCO Global Geopark. His work has ensured that the "silent dialogue" between the modern inhabitants of Pangkep and their prehistoric ancestors remains unbroken.
Though he will officially step down in December 2023, Haeruddin’s spirit remains tied to the karst. "If I am still asked to help guard the site, I will surely do it," he says, underscoring a commitment that transcends a government contract. As the next generation of guardians takes over the morning roll call at the Rumah Informasi, they will be standing on the shoulders of a man who proved that the most effective way to protect the past is to live in harmony with the present. The ancient hand stencils on the walls of Leang Kassi remain vibrant not just because of the pigments used 40,000 years ago, but because of the hands that have carefully swept the dust away for the last three decades.
