Society’s Fascination with Infidelity

Few themes grip the Indonesian audience like tales of infidelity. In a culture steeped in conservative values where “family comes first”, stories of spousal betrayal become both entertaining and, yet, rather unsettling.

Recently, adultery-themed films often draw inspiration from viral, supposedly real-life stories on social media platforms like TikTok, X and Facebook, feeding the public’s insatiable appetite for drama.

Indeed, roughly 60% of Indonesians enjoy infidelity dramas, possibly drawn by the mix of both their relatability – hitting too close to home – and utterly bizarre storylines. These films spark a whirlwind of reactions, from moral outrage and seething disdain for the villains to netizens candidly recounting their own experiences.

Following the success of Layangan Putus (The Broken Kite), an infidelity drama adapted from a viral Facebook post, Ipar adalah Maut (The In-law is Death) entered the scene in June 2024, with subsequent streaming on Netflix earlier this November.

When Family Lines Blur

Directed by Hanung Bramantyo, Ipar adalah Maut tells a story about the unraveling marriage of Aris (Deva Mahenra) and Nisa (Michelle Ziudith) following the former’s affair with the latter’s younger sister, Rani (Devina Karamoy). Based on a viral TikTok story, this film forces a reckon with familial boundaries in Indonesia, reigniting discussions on religion, morality and trust.

The film’s provocative title borrows from the Islamic hadith that discourages Muslims from spending time alone with non-mahram (a person with whom marriage is allowed), further warning the dangers of unchecked relationships between the in-laws.

At the start, the audience is introduced to Aris and Nisa’s seemingly perfect relationship. Aris is portrayed as a family man: a religious figure, a supportive husband and a present father. Finances do not seem to be an issue for the family. The couple and their daughter settle in a nice home, while Nisa is running a successful business.

Before long, Ipar adalah Maut pivots to its central conflict, a turning point when Nisa and Rani’s mother suggests that the younger sister, Rani, should move into the couple’s home.

The intention behind this arrangement seems benign: Rani needs a safe place to stay near her university, where, conveniently, Aris also teaches. The mother’s preference for Rani to stay with the couple and their willingness to take her in speak to the deeply rooted collectivist values that have shaped Indonesian family dynamics.

In one scene, Nisa hesitates over the arrangement but soon feels the sense of responsibility to care for her sister, even though Rani, as an adult, should ideally be independent. This scene shows the clash between collectivism and individualism, the dilemma between prioritizing one’s interests and fulfilling familial duties.

As the film progresses, the lines between nuclear and extended families blur, with the latter taking on familial responsibility. This stands in contrast to the current shift in the Indonesian family structure: Younger Indonesians are gradually moving away from an extended family to a nuclear one, a change influenced in part by modernization.

In the past, it was more common for Indonesians to live with or nearby their in-laws, creating a support system where family would be there when needed. Today, however, it has become increasingly common and socially acceptable for nuclear families to live independently, often away from their extended families.

Furthermore, religion also upholds collectivist values, with a strong emphasis on selflessness and altruism. In the film, Aris is initially portrayed as a religious character. His actions are driven by his sense of duty towards his family and God.

The audience’s first impression of Aris is built upon the common belief that a religious and responsible husband is not a cheater—that these qualities are mutually exclusive. Ironically, it is precisely these virtues that likely draw Rani to him, a picture-perfect husband she does not have but profoundly desires.

One of the ways religion may safeguard oneself from infidelity is by curbing behaviors that could lead to full-blown infidelity. In the aforementioned hadith, Islam sets clear marital boundaries to avoid temptation and “minor” transgressions, both of which could escalate into something more serious.

Here, the discrepancy between Indonesia’s collectivist values and the above hadith becomes clear. The movie’s married couple are caught between two principles.

On the one hand, their cultural leanings prioritize charity to family, i.e. helping Rani by offering her a place to stay. On the other hand, the hadith warns against such arrangements, implying they are forbidden. However, it is possible that the couple are unaware of the hadith before making that decision.

Just as the hadith warns, multiple scenes show that several boundaries were crossed long before the full-blown affair begins. For instance, Aris and Rani drive to the university together in the same car without Nisa. There are also moments when Aris and Rani are left alone in the house, further compromising the boundaries that the hadith seeks to protect.

The plot advances further when Aris intervenes to help Rani when she was being harassed by male students. This pivotal moment enables Rani’s feelings for Aris to intensify, shifting from innocent admiration to something more romantic and intense.

Why the Forbidden Beckons

There is a prevailing assumption that people in happy relationship are less likely to cheat. Nevertheless, that is no guarantee against infidelity. There are many explanations for this, including uncontrollable temptations, a lack of connection, or simply boredom.

Ipar adalah Maut does not explicitly explain but rather implies, as the pre-affair Aris’ character is too perfect to be true. We are left wondering what his flaws are or what hidden temptations he harbors. As the film unfolds, it becomes clear that he is addicted to this forbidden relationship.

Meanwhile, Rani has grown from a sweet child into an extremely attractive young woman, a visual that probably tempts Aris in the first place.

The setup is expected and familiar – Aris and Rani share a rather intimate moment late at night when Rani, typically modest and demure, is found without her hijab and with a more revealing outfit. It is a defining moment where a split-second attraction blossoms into a destructive force.

This brings us to the hypothetical realm: Could strict religious practice become the very thing that feeds the desire to break them? If Rani were a secular woman who is not a hijabi/covered in the first place, and if Aris were used to seeing her in more revealing outfits, would it reduce Aris’ curiosity and prevent any temptation from taking place?

This allure of forbidden love is proven to be hard to resist. Its allure can partially be explained by the psychological concept of “reactance”. It occurs when individuals experience discomfort as a consequence of perceived restrictions in their autonomy, subsequently attempting to restore their freedom by rebelling against those constraints. In Ipar adalah Maut, societal and cultural taboos could have heightened this forbidden attraction.

Deeper Betrayals and the Fallout

Guilt and shame, due to their religious beliefs, take root early in both Aris and Rani’s minds. Yet, the more guilt they feel, the stronger their reckless abandon attitude grows. Both of them may feel that they are too deep in their sins to turn back. Thus, they carry on with the affair. Unsurprisingly, they become reckless in keeping the secret too, with a few scenes highlighting Nisa’s suspicions.

This eventually becomes a tangled web of deceit as the cheaters craft an elaborate scheme to throw Nisa off. Here, Aris’ so-called selflessness reveals itself as nothing more than pure selfishness.

What is most unsettling is how normal this affair feels to the cheaters. Perhaps it is a strange sense of familiarity—spending time together and slipping into roles that slowly become more natural. In their minds, this very familiarity erodes any sense of abnormality and the taboos surrounding the affair.

But Aris and Rani’s plan to deceive Nisa is proven to be a very short-lasting one. As the affair unfolds, the consequences are swift.

To Nisa, this betrayal is a catastrophic disruption of her family and her world. She simultaneously loses a husband and a sister. After the affair is exposed, Nisa often finds herself trapped between personal pain and familial obligation to take care of her dying mother. Following Rani’s pregnancy reveal and their mother’s death, the film leaves the audience longing even for the slightest sense of justice for Nisa.

This lack of justice echoes the experiences of infidelity victims in Indonesia. Earlier this year, the public saw a shocking criminal case stemming from infidelity: After exposing her husband’s affair online, a married woman was reported to and arrested by the police. The complaint was filed by the woman with whom her husband was having an affair, accusing the wife of spreading false information under the controversial Electronic Information Law (UU ITE).

Reclaiming Power after Betrayal

On average, Indonesia sees around 400,000 divorce cases each year, with nearly a quarter attributed to infidelity.

Legally, Indonesia’s new law on adultery (articles 411 and 412 of the Penal Code) is set to take effect in 2026. It aims to protect infidelity victims by enabling immediate family members to file complaints against unfaithful spouses, with penalties including up to a year in prison or a fine of Rp10 million (US$600). Of course, many argue that this punishment is nothing compared to the deep emotional and mental trauma experienced by the victims.

Perhaps the closest thing to justice is in the court of public opinion, particularly on social media. The popularity of these stories might offer victims some semblance of justice that the legal system cannot provide.

In the context of family dynamics, social media serves as a space to renegotiate relationships and societal norms. Among women, this is often expressed through sympathy, support and solidarity in the face of betrayal.

As for Nisa, the ending offers a moment of catharsis. She moves forward by accepting reality, cutting ties with the toxic forces around her and focusing on what truly matters to her—her daughter’s happiness. Ultimately, Ipar adalah Maut takes on a deeply taboo subject and forces viewers to confront the hard truth that nothing is ever as secure as it seems. The message is clear: Do not take your relationship for granted, no matter how tight the bond may be.

Introduction

When my husband and I decided to get married, we knew what we were getting ourselves into. For all its wonder, our interracial marriage is about doing it on our own terms while somewhat adapting to Indonesia’s religiously conservative culture.

Regarded as multiculturalism in its fullest expression, interracial marriages are still fraught with challenges in Indonesia. While each marriage – with its own set of unique dynamics – is not free from problems, navigating an interracial one can be especially tricky as couples must steer through a complex maze of cultural and legal hurdles.

Interracial marriage is not a new phenomenon in Indonesia: it dates back to the Dutch colonial era. Back then, this practice highlighted the existing racial inequality, with Indo-Europeans – the offspring of Dutch men and Indonesian women – not enjoying the same social status as their full Dutch counterparts. The famous novel Bumi Manusia (This Earth of Mankind) captures some of these dynamics.

Today, as the world becomes even more connected, we can safely assume that mixed marriage is on the rise in Indonesia—although, unfortunately, I cannot find a comprehensive dataset to confirm this. Even more elusive is the data that shows whether these marriages are successful or not.

Cultural Aspects

For any marriage to succeed, whether interracial or not, the three Cs are crucial: communication, compatibility and compromise.

“Communication” is arguably the most critical aspect in an interracial marriage, where language barriers can pose significant challenges. While one might argue that today’s relationships can rely on tools like Google Translate, it is unthinkable for this marriage to be as fulfilling as it could be with direct communication. Language is far more nuanced than simple word-by-word translation and misunderstandings might arise from not sharing a common language.

Living through a mixed marriage is also the ultimate test of “Compatibility”, especially if one marries someone else from an entirely different culture.

Those of us who are fortunate enough in our romantic pursuit know all too well that love, however strong, is not enough to sustain a marriage. That initial “butterfly in the stomach” feeling – if it even exists in the first place – does not last.

For a marriage to thrive, there needs to be a shared vision and mutual interests. Coming from different cultures, interracial couples can consider themselves lucky if they align on most issues.

In my marriage, something so common and acceptable in Indonesia can be viewed completely differently by my husband.

Coming from a more “individualistic” Western culture, my husband often struggles to understand why I spend so much effort to please others and leave a good impression on my family as well as society. He struggles to fully comprehend the concept of shared communal responsibility either, shaking his head when I donate money to help someone I barely know.

Issues like this may seem trivial, but they can soon form an exhaustive list and subsequently cause friction, especially if we do not take a step back and talk about them, allowing each to understand the other’s point of view.

How each spouse views the hierarchy in their marriage is also a determinant of compatibility. Traditional Indonesian society tends to be more “patriarchal”, where a wife’s submission to her husband might be seen as non-negotiable (though, hopefully, this is changing), while equality might be more common in Western culture. If one spouse is more traditional than the other, it would be more challenging to find common ground.

Marriage is, after all, a contract, much like politics; it involves power dynamics, albeit with an added element of love. Depending on whom you ask, the balance of love and power in a marriage can vary.

I have personally heard a horror story from a friend who was in an abusive relationship with a foreign husband. She relocated to his country and quickly realized that he was an exceedingly patriarchal figure, controlling everything she could or could not do. She began to question her dependence as her personality gradually shifted from bubbly and independent to frightened and powerless.

This raises questions about protection in interracial marriages. Where can you go if you are in trouble? Could you rely on your country’s embassy? To what extent can they help realistically?

“Compromise” is another crucial factor in any marriage, but it is rarely equal. In a perfect world, we would expect that both partners would compromise equally. However, in reality, it is often the “flexible” partner who ends up making more sacrifices to meet the requirements of the “rigid” one.

Most Indonesians view marriage as not just about two people in love; it is about joining two families. The opposite is true in some Western cultures, where marriage is seen as a decision made by two individuals. This is why compromise is an especially important factor here, seeing as a marriage of two people from opposite cultures may not have the best stable foundation to begin with.

However, the challenge is exponentially higher for interfaith couples. To date, interfaith marriages continue to be frowned upon. The legality of such marriages in Indonesia is not clear-cut. Indonesia’s Marriage Act leaves it to the religious authorities to decide whether an interfaith marriage is permitted. Meanwhile, the Indonesian Ulama Council’s (MUI) Fatwa 4/2005 deems interfaith marriage haram (forbidden).

Of course, one can use legal loopholes to allow interfaith marriages, but even if the couple decides to marry, they may still face disapproval, especially from conservative family members.

This, however, has not stopped interfaith marriages from taking place in the country, as even high-profile individuals practice it. Moreover, it has also been portrayed in popular culture, such as the highly entertaining movie Bu Tejo Sowan Jakarta (Mrs. Tejo Visits Jakarta).

It is not an option for all couples owing to the hardship it might present. What often ends up happening is that the more “flexible” partner converts to Islam to marry an Indonesian Muslim, just as my husband and the husbands of some of my friends did.

I once asked my husband what I would need to do to be accepted by his family, and he could not give any response—this implies I do not need to compromise much! Of course, my story does not represent all interracial marriages, as many Indonesians might have to give up a lot more to feel accepted.

Furthermore, Indonesian women are often subjected to a stereotype—that if they marry a “white” person, they must be a “bule-hunter”, a derogatory term for someone who seeks out relationships with white foreigners mainly for financial gain and social status.

Several of my friends have experienced this form of racism from fellow Indonesians. This stereotype is thus a form of collective punishment for a “crime” that one does not personally commit.

Legal Hurdles

Interracial couples in Indonesia face numerous legal hurdles.

The first is concerning Indonesian laws that regulate land ownership, which restrict ownership to Indonesian citizens with some exceptions.

Without a prenuptial or postnuptial agreement specifying the separation of assets, it is unclear whether the Indonesian spouse can own land in their name after marriage. This is because, without such agreements, any property acquired after the marriage will be considered as joint marital property, on which the foreign spouse is legally not allowed to hold ownership.

In many cases, interracial couples end up having prenuptial agreements, especially if they want to acquire land after marriage. However, it means that the foreign spouse could be left with nothing in case of divorce, as everything would be under the Indonesian spouse’s name. This lack of legal protection for the foreign spouse has been a significant concern for many years.

The second is the gray area over whether and how foreign spouses could earn income under spousal visa. Technically, under a spousal temporary stay permit (KITAS), the foreign spouse can “help” or participate in the Indonesian spouse’s business venture but without officially receiving any salary. However, this opens up possibilities for exploitation, with the risk of deportation over those who are caught exploiting such a loophole.

Dual citizenship is another concern. Indonesia requires individuals to renounce their current citizenship if they wish to obtain Indonesian citizenship and vice versa for Indonesians wishing to obtain foreign citizenship. Adding children to the mix makes the situation even more complicated.

Where is the Data?

As I am writing this piece, I cannot find comprehensive statistics on Indonesian mixed marriages. Marital data is usually very localized, as marriages are conducted and registered at local religious or civil offices. Even the rules and requirements regarding interracial marriages in Indonesia are not standardized; they vary depending on the office where the marriage is registered.

Without good data, developing policies that truly reflect the realities on the ground is almost impossible. The (not-so) low-hanging fruit would be to compile data from all provinces on interracial marriages, including the total number of marriages, who is getting married, how many and reasons for divorces.

Final Thoughts

Despite all these challenges, Indonesians are culturally evolving. The younger generation is more likely to speak English, opening up more possibilities for interracial marriages that are less culturally bound.

Increased awareness of these issues may hopefully incentivize the government to implement fairer and better policies for interracial couples. Each of us desires happiness and a successful marriage might just be one way to achieve it.

As it stands now, for lack of a better word, my husband is stuck in a precarious enigma without sufficient legal protection in Indonesia, despite his long list of compromises. Well, I suppose that is what love is.