Forgotten Dairies
Presumed Guilty: The Hidden Violence of Limited Reverse Burden in Money Laundering Cases -By Fransiscus Nanga Roka
To justify this regime as a necessity is to concede an uncomfortable bargain: that the struggle against financial crime warrants amending core legal protections. But that trade off is ultimately a self defeating one. In short, a justice system papers over its own principles in order to win convictions undermines all that legitimacy it purports to protect.
Anti money laundering law rests on a discreet but virulent swell from one of the venerable tenets of criminal jurisprudence: that means preconviction presumption of innocence. With the doctrine of limited reverse burden, Defendants are no longer responding to allegations; they must now demonstrate that their assets were not derived from unlawful conducts. This transition is often positioned as practical, even essential. In fact, it is a powerful source of legal violence that has not been well-studied.
The word “limited” is inherently dishonest. A burden that gives a sense of it was borderline, and makes individuals retire all what they have sent in finances to recompose the history for decades if necessary not to be quashed is anything but limited. In the case of money laundering, especially where it is associated to an underlying act constituting a crime such as corruption, in law and practice the defendant is seated on an evidentiary area. Long concluded transactions, documents long gone, records never formally established all become the fulcrum upon which freedom or imprisonment turns.
This is not simply procedural tinkering. Its a structural perversion of justice. Reverse burden regimes function on a troubling assumption: that unexplained wealth is suspicious in and of itself, and that failure to explain it amounts to guilt. Such a rationale collapses the difference between suspicion and evidence. However, it turns evidentiary deficiencies often the product of normal human and bureaucratic limitations into positive proof of criminality. Instead, the adversary neither has to tell us what innocent behavior could be consistent with guilt not very much but rather bad stuff, and instead of that framing as a known legal burden which prosecutors are tasked solely when prosecuting defendants.
In practice this produces a nearly coercive evidentiary asymmetry. People tend to view the state as an investigative authority, which has institutional resources at its disposal and a narrative of illicit enrichment. By contrast, a defendant is presented with the narrative case and must deconstruct it from fragments of years-old financial behavior without access to even half(a billion) these tools. This imbalance is not coincidence—it’s by design.
The most insidious aspect of this regime is that it has a veneer of legality. Courts regularly justify reverse burden provisions as a reasonable response to complicated financial crimes. But that simply justifies a more serious injustice: the streamlining of due process. In a way, the legal system sets its sights on winning convictions over doing equity by reducing the evidentiary threshold law enforcement has to meet and placing more burden onto defendants.
The impact is particularly drastic in jurisdictions where accounting records are irregular, informal or badly archived. It is also in these circumstances that the obligation to demonstrate legal origin becomes burdensome and accordingly, regularly too heavy a burden for businesses. By closely punishing humans for failing to meet an evidentiary standard that fails to reflect socio economic reality, the law is not so much trying and convicting as it is shooting at a life in which may or may be falsified.
This is where you cannot avoid talking about the idea of hidden violence. It is not violent physically, but epistemically and structurally. It is found in the coercive expectation that they must demonstrate their innocence, within a system designed to deny them such an ability. It resides in the quiet assumption of a legal fiction, that the absence of proof showing legality is itself evidence for illegality.
And beyond that, the narrow reverse burden doctrine threatens to further entrench a much larger trend in criminal justice: going from presuming innocence as an end state to where we really are today, guilty being presumed before it has been concluded. Such is the logic of things once a shift like this makes it into big-time policy. Today its money laundering; tomorrow maybe beyond to areas where proof is difficult and records are incomplete.
To justify this regime as a necessity is to concede an uncomfortable bargain: that the struggle against financial crime warrants amending core legal protections. But that trade off is ultimately a self defeating one. In short, a justice system papers over its own principles in order to win convictions undermines all that legitimacy it purports to protect.
Thus, the answer is not to give up on all efforts against money laundering but rather re-root them more firmly in fairness and evidentiary integrity. Reverse burden mechanisms need to be severely restricted, subjected to stringent judicial review and effective rebuttal. Without these protections, they could become instruments of systemic injustice instead of accountability tools.
Ultimately the question is not whether or not you can punish the guilty, but rather if any non-guilty party has a realistic hope of defending themselves. In the current limited reverse burden environment, that question is left unexamined and perilously so.
Fransiscus Nanga Roka
Faculty of Law University 17 August 1945 Surabaya and Managing Partner of Law Firm Victorious Indonesia