Editor’s Note:

In Indonesia, where an estimated four million people work in app-based delivery, riders are everywhere, but they are still not fully recognised as workers. Labelled as “partners” by major platforms like Grab and Gojek, they remain excluded from formal labour protections, social security, and the right to collective bargaining.

But a group of riders has been working to change that. Formed during the pandemic, Serikat Pekerja Angkutan Indonesia (SPAI) became one of the pioneers of registered app-based workers’ unions in the country. Their registration, secured by identifying as “transport workers,” marked a critical breakthrough in the fight for recognition, both legal and political.

Among their most notable victories is the Bonus Hari Raya (Eid Bonus), a modest yet historic achievement. After sustained pressure from SPAI, major platforms agreed for the first time to provide riders with a lump-sum holiday payment, something previously reserved for formally employed workers. While the bonus was not equivalent to a full month’s salary and was not paid to all riders, it set a significant precedent: a public acknowledgement that riders deserve benefits comparable to those of formal-sector workers.

For Raymond J. Kusnadi, SPAI’s Advocacy Coordinator, the question of recognition is foundational. In his view, organising power comes not only from protests or petitions but also from forcing institutions—governments, platforms, and the public—to acknowledge riders as workers. SPAI’s core strategy is built around shifting the legal and public understanding of what platform labour is and who controls it.

In this conversation, ALR’s contributing editor Kriangsak Teerakowitkajorn spoke with Raymond J. Kusnadi about the union’s origins, its efforts to challenge the state’s narrow definition of worker, and its pushback against platform companies’ “partnership“ narrative. He also reflects on the challenges of organising in competition with community-based rider groups sided with the platforms, the limits of solidarity without structure, and what it would take to build sustained national and regional movements from below.

Kusnadi highlights the importance of solidarity and the ability to shape public narratives and gain public support—foundations of workers’ societal power and among the few power sources available to riders—helping bridge the divide between the formal and informal economy.

Kriangsak Teerakowitkajorn (Kriangsak): Let’s start with your own story. What were you doing before you became a platform rider?

Raymond Kusnadi (Raymond): I graduated from university in 2004 and went straight into labour NGOs. We supported Indonesian workers going abroad and dealt with cases of trafficking. When the pandemic hit in 2020, outbound migration came to a stop. Many returnees needed jobs. That’s when a group of us—including my wife and me—turned to on-demand work with Grab and Gojek. We’ve both been riders since 2019 to support our family.

Kriangsak: What’s your current role in SPAI?

Raymond: I coordinate SPAI’s advocacy department, where I help organise our campaigns and push for rider protections at the national level.

Kriangsak: How did SPAI begin?

Raymond: Around 10 to 15 of us—mostly ex-migrant workers—started meeting regularly during the lockdown in Jakarta. We were all facing the same problems: unstable pay, account deactivations, and no safety net. By 2022, we had registered as a union. Another rider organisation had tried before us and was rejected. Officials told them, “Riders aren’t workers.“ So we renamed ourselves “transportation workers,“ using a category already recognised in labour law—and it worked.

Kriangsak: That shows how bureaucratic mindsets still shape what’s possible.

Raymond: Yes. But there’s been progress. Another rider union was recently approved under the label of “platform workers.“ I think SPAI helped open that door. Now, there are six or seven rider and platform-worker unions in Indonesia, alongside many community-based organisations that are not formally registered as unions.

Kriangsak: Can you describe SPAI’s internal structure?

Raymond: We have four departments: Organization, Advocacy, Education, and Finance. All leadership positions are elected at our national congress. Our president, Lili, is a woman, and all the officers still do delivery work. That’s important: we don’t separate leadership from lived experience. We’ve also established chapters in Dumai (Sumatra), Malang (East Java), Pontianak (Kalimantan), Makassar (Sulawesi), and, of course, Jakarta. Each area elects its own officers and sends delegates to the congress.

Kriangsak: What’s the gender breakdown of your membership?

Raymond: Around 80% of our 1,000 members are men and 20% are women. That probably mirrors the rider workforce as a whole, though the platforms won’t share the actual data.

Kriangsak: Why are there so few women riders?

Raymond: Patriarchal culture. There’s still a perception that riding is “men’s work.”

Kriangsak: Does that affect how you organise?

Raymond: The places are the same: we meet at roadside stalls or in rest areas. But we approach things differently. With men, we talk about earnings and fuel prices. With women, we lead with safety and reproductive health. But the biggest obstacle is time. Everyone’s chasing orders. So we hold meetings after the evening rush or on weekends.

Kriangsak: In your view, does SPAI function like a traditional union?

Raymond: Yes, but with limits. We organise like a union. We campaign like a union. But platform companies still refuse to recognise us as employees. That means we can’t sign collective bargaining agreements. Despite that, we’ve had some real wins, such as the Bonus Hari Raya (BHR) or Eid Bonus.

Kriangsak: Can you explain what Edi Bonus is?

Raymond: Yes. Formal-sector workers in Indonesia receive a full month’s salary as a holiday bonus, whether they’re Muslim or Christian (Editor: Indonesia’s population is approximately 87% Muslim and about 10% Christian). Riders got nothing.

Eventually, after our campaign, Grab and Gojek agreed to pay a lump sum between IDR 50,000 and IDR 1 million (approximately USD 60), based on a rider’s order volume. It wasn’t equal to the formal bonus, but this gain mattered. Even though BHR payments are not made to all drivers, it was a historic moment because this was the first time riders have received BHR.

Kriangsak: What’s the difference between SPAI and the many community-based rider groups?

Raymond: We have different goals. Communities focus on perks, such as discounts and priority orders. They accept the “partner“ narrative. SPAI fights for workers’ rights. That creates tension. Some groups tell riders, “Don’t join unions. They cause trouble.“ So it’s not just organising; it’s an ideological struggle.

Kriangsak: Where does your power come from, if not from formal bargaining?

Raymond:  The power of the riders comes from our campaigns, our networks, and the public narratives crafted by journalists.

We work with academics, journalists, and national trade union confederations to amplify our voices. We need more people to talk about who really employs us and who controls our work.

Media stories have helped the public understand our conditions. Customers often ask us directly, “How much do you really earn?” Because they now question the fairness of the system. Stories from outside Indonesia, like European riders gaining worker status—also help us make our case here.

Kriangsak: Can you share some examples of creative tactics?

Raymond: One idea we’re exploring is organising platform users, customers who want to support riders. SPAI encourages various parties, such as research institutions and universities, to raise the low wages received by ojol drivers. We will also hold discussions with the Consumer Protection Agency regarding this issue in the near future.

Another is countering the public discourse pushed by companies. While some researchers defend the “partnership“ model, we’re building relationships with scholars who argue the opposite: that this is wage labour without protections.

Kriangsak: Is a national riders’ movement possible?

Raymond: Yes. That’s why SPAI is holding a national riders’ assembly in Jakarta on May 20th, 2025. Riders from other cities will participate, some in person, others through local gatherings. We’ll be discussing wages, the way platforms reduce them, and the lack of clear regulation, especially the difference between transporting people and delivering goods. We want rules that are fair, transparent, and formal, with recognition of riders as workers.

Kriangsak: What about international solidarity?

Raymond: We’re in contact with groups in Malaysia and Singapore. Our president, Lili, will be attending the ILO’s Conference in June this year to advocate for a potential convention on platform work at a side event in Geneva. We hope to coordinate protest actions across borders one day. However, that requires real resources, interpreters, coordination, and time.

Kriangsak: Often, international meetings don’t leave enough time for riders to connect meaningfully. How can that change?

Raymond: We need mediators to help riders communicate and build relationships. There should be ongoing forums—not just one-time meetings—with facilitators to guide the conversation. First, riders can share their experiences. Then, they can identify common challenges. After that, they can figure out what they can do together. But it only works if people or organisations are willing to support and coordinate that process.

Kriangsak: What are your hopes for the future?

Raymond: Nationally, riders are recognised as workers and included in the same law as all the other workers. At the international level, we want an ILO Convention on platform work to be adopted in 2025 and implemented in 2026. 

We would like to thank Yuli Riswati for her interpretations in English and Bahasa Indonesia.