Part of an ongoing article series on Indonesia’s regional elections 2024.

Introduction

This year’s presidential election in Indonesia was yet another eventful episode in the history of the nation’s democracy.

Chatters regarding Indonesia’s oligarchic instead of democratic nature, which emphasizes pragmatism over idealism, caught fire before and after the voting last February, thanks to various activities and developments deemed to have eroded Indonesia’s democracy.

These include the controversial nomination of Gibran Rakabuming Raka as vice president candidate and political parties’ many maneuvers to undermine the checks and balances system.

As explored by the other two articles in this series, patterns of power struggle that were in place during the presidential election seem to have repeated themselves during the campaign period of Pemilihan Kepala Daerah Serentak (the Simultaneous Regional Head Election – Pilkada).

Pilkada, which will be held this week, will determine the executive seats in 37 provinces, 415 regencies and 93 cities. 

Chief of this power struggle is the tug-of-war between Partai Demokrasi Indonesia Perjuangan (PDI-P) and Prabowo Subianto’s oversized Koalisi Indonesia Maju (the Onward Indonesia Coalition – KIM). This is concerning, as political tussle at the highest level would only marginalize the best interests of hundreds of millions of Indonesians in all parts of the country.

It also explains the pessimism that some quarters harbor towards the way democracy is practiced in Indonesia.

Some of these contests, such as the gubernatorial elections in Jakarta, Central Java and North Sumatra, have emerged as significant battlegrounds with stakes that almost rival that of the presidential election itself, as explored by the other articles.

As will be discussed below, the pursuit of power and pragmatic politics in this Pilkada period further signal the notion of democratic decline in Indonesia, unfortunately.

The Curious Case of Jakarta’s Politics

The contest in Jakarta exemplifies this best. It was here where realpolitik manifested its face when Partai Keadilan Sejahtera (PKS) withdrew its support from potential candidate Anies Baswedan, despite having backed him for years.

The PKS later joined Prabowo’s KIM (which then became “KIM Plus” after the PKS and others came onboard) and supported Ridwan Kamil’s bid for Jakarta’s top job. The party then earned a spot in Ridwan’s ticket: Suswono, a PKS cadre, is running as his deputy candidate.

Even when accounting for the Constitutional Court’s (MK) supposedly game-changing ruling on party threshold to nominate candidates, it only shows the PKS’ strong desire for a seat in Jakarta’s executive role after having been in the opposition for 10 years.

Despite the supposed strength of KIM Plus, its stamina appears to be running out closer to the voting day. The PDI-P’s candidates, Pramono Anung-Rano Karno, are seasoned politicians with strong connections to senior figures in some of KIM Plus’ parties, such as Partai Nasional Demokrat (NasDem) and Partai Kebangkitan Bangsa (PKB). Some of these figures have outwardly declared their support for the pair.

This is also exacerbated by the blunders committed by both Ridwan Kamil and Suswono before they were even formally declared as candidates. As a result, the pair and the PKS are left to their own devices in the campaign period as financial backing from KIM Plus parties dwindles.  

In a last-ditch effort to boost his credibility, Ridwan Kamil visited former President Joko “Jokowi” Widodo to seek his support. Jokowi, famous for his cawe-cawe (meddling) practice in the presidential election, has now declared for Ridwan-Suswono, giving a second wind to the pair’s sluggish campaign.

This only goes to show that questionable practices that were conducted during the presidential election have become an enduring trend, further raising concern about the state of Indonesia’s democracy. 

When Pragmatism Hits the Ground

Grievances that transpire from power struggles in this year’s Pilkada are only symptoms of the ongoing concern over democratic decline in the country.

As an example, parties largely operate on a pragmatic level today, having shed off their ideological underpinnings sometime after reformasi. This effectively destroys any boundaries among parties, with the people unable to differentiate one from another.

If we pull this back further into history, one can argue that the US-assisted destruction of the Left in Indonesia and Soeharto’s suppression of political expression contributed towards the weakening of parties’ ideological foundations today. 

This is not an excuse, however. In Indonesia’s case, excessive pragmatism is hindering Indonesia from truly becoming a democratic country.

Only two broad groupings of “ideology” exist in today’s political landscape: the Islamist and the nationalist. Notwithstanding that, practical politics today suggest that even the demarcation between these two is fading.

Programs and visions matter less when the majority vote based on charisma, popularity and physical appearance—hence why celebrities make successful politicians in Indonesia. As a consequence, party loyalty is weak, with the people voting for individuals and not what these individuals represent.

Pragmatic politics also bear consequences at the legislative level. With coalition(s) being formed on the basis of seat numbers and power accumulation, it is hard to imagine a stable relationship among the parties, let alone in their relationship with the executive level.

Either of the following scenarios may play out. On the one hand, parties might hinder executive administration attempts at seeking approvals from the House of Representatives (DPR) unless their interests are fulfilled and their power could consolidate further. This is plausibly the case on the matter of budget, for example.

On the other hand, some programs might, in spite of potential benefit or drawback to the public, be more likely to receive the greenlight or be swept under the rug, whichever suits the parties’ interest at any given day.

This is surely not something new, as such has been the standard practice at the DPR throughout Jokowi’s tenure, wherein parties within his coalition rushed various laws without proper public consultation and due process. These include the speedy passing of the laws related to the Corruption Eradication Commission (KPK) and the new capital city, Nusantara, to name just a couple.

What is especially worrisome in this regard is that there is little to no room for policy consistency, and undertakings at large scales may come to an abrupt end if the parties lose their grasp over profitable portfolios and projects.

Weakening Pillars of Democracy

Political parties, in the words of one of the nation’s constitutional jurists, are a pillar of democracy. While due criticisms have been launched against the efficacy of this institution across parts of the world, representation through parties still proves to have considerable advantages if done right.

Alas, the phenomenon seen in Indonesia today is hard to categorize into any type of architecture. There is evidence to argue, for instance, that what is being displayed is a pluralist democracy where the interests being lobbied and subsequently advocated are those of corporations’, such as coal mining tycoons.

One can frankly argue that oligarchic influence has grown ever more pronounced through financial support for rallies, which are often welcomed by parties.

Cadreship, a feature of Indonesian politics that was particularly prominent throughout its early decades, has lost its meaning in time. It is doubtful that political parties today will take in people who believe in their “ideology” and nurture them to become champions of their cause.

Individuals must pay a “dowry” to be even included in their party’s list for legislative elections, further accentuating the diminishing value of cadreship. It becomes increasingly alarming as parties, in this age of pragmatic politics, no longer deem it important to recruit and properly foster (young) people with high potential.

Instead, parties have the convenient option of taking in or nominating individuals with a large following, influence or deep pockets, such as former ministers, army, or police generals. Indeed, Pilkada contestations in provinces like Jakarta and Central Java exemplify this.

This systematically sidelines those with vehement aspirations in favor of others with the ability to win elections or bring in capital. The repercussions of this practice will be felt long term beyond just Pilkada, as cohorts of political talents will be lost to short-term gains and young people increasingly turn away from politics.

Administrations at the regional level suffer as well, with governors, regents, and mayors being hampered from implementing policies that befit local context and needs due to potential intervention from the central government. Anies’ struggle to implement policies in Jakarta during the Covid-19 pandemic is a good example of this.

The DPR lawmakers may only pass laws or regulations that benefit the central government yet derail the programs and projects that regional leaders attempt to implement.

To be fair, regional lawmakers that are under the influence of the central government may pave the way for programmatic alignment. However, it can also be interpreted as the backstep towards recentralization that defeats the whole purpose of autonomy in the first place.

This is a worrisome trajectory, primarily noting how the Jokowi administration had curtailed autonomy across regions to further his agenda. This is best displayed by the passing of the 2020 Job Creation Law and the Second Amendment to the Law on Special Autonomy for the Papuan Province – not least thanks to his own oversized supporting coalition in the DPR.

Indeed, this discussion stresses how power struggle and the quest for power accumulation have only eroded Indonesia’s democratic vision.

Rewiring the System

Ideally, Indonesia’s practice of pragmatic politics at the national and regional levels needs to be revisited and reconsidered as it comes at the expense of the democratic tenets that the country has tried to uphold in the past 25 years or so.

There is a need for a return of ideology, values and virtues, if it is at all possible, while meritocracy should be pushed forward. These are just hypothetical, however, which are unfortunately not pragmatic in the first place. Yet it should not deter us from considering the damage that pragmatic politics has done to our nation and people.

Below are some steps in the author’s wish list.

The central government should break from the past tradition of undertaking practices that erode democratic principles and resume the democratic consolidation process. Ultimately, this is a test for Prabowo’s commitment towards democracy. Recent developments, however, suggest that it is still hard for the new administration to uphold this commitment, with the practice of cawe-cawe (meddling) making a return to this Pilkada.

Mechanistic foundations like the enhancement of political accountability through vertical as well as horizontal checks and balances should be strengthened. Practices in the past few years indicate that there is an active effort to overstep the checks and balances system. These include the weakening of KPK and the attempt to circumvent MK’s ruling on Pilkada law.

Such practices need to stop, while civic education that serves the best interest of the rakyat, instead of the prevailing regime, should be promoted.

Politicians must also be encouraged to undertake more programmatic and policy-based campaigning – Anies has conducted this before, though with disconcerting results.

Beyond that, political parties must also revitalize their purpose as the representatives of the people, not just some powerful individuals or those with deep pockets. Parties need to realize that building a sustainable pipeline of cadres that truly invest in a vision and uphold noble principles is key to the development of the country and welfare of the people.

Introduction

Just days ahead of the candidate registrations for the 2024 presidential elections, the Indonesian public was taken aback by one of the seven Constitutional Court’s decisions pertaining to the age requirement for presidential and vice presidential candidates as per Law No. 7 of 2017 on General Elections (Election Law).

Judicial Review Petition No. 90/PUU-XXI/2023, submitted by an undergraduate student, was partially granted. The decision makes it possible for someone who has not yet reached the required age of 40 to run for office if they have previously held an elected position such as governor or mayor.

Strong allegations point to President Joko “Jokowi” Widodo pulling strings with his brother-in-law, Chief Justice Anwar Usman, to smoothen the way for his son, Gibran Rakabuming Raka, current Mayor of Surakarta, to run as a vice president candidate.

These complicated latest developments have invited outrage from the public as they are simply unfathomable for many. Several peculiar events, such as the sudden appearance of Justice Usman in the deliberation chambers (despite previously citing conflict of interest in three other petitions) and the disregard for a narrower ground proposed by two justices in their concurring opinions signals the deteriorating independence of the nation’s Constitutional Court, a prized product of the country’s difficult Reformasi.

Although petitions on the Election Law have been a common theme every election cycle, today’s controversy is unprecedented. Given the final and binding nature of the decision, however, it is pertinent to ask how this decision changes the paradigm of meritocracy in presidential elections and whether the decision inherently promotes Indonesia’s democracy beyond next year’s election.

The Case for Merit in Democracy

A recently coined term for a notion deeply entrenched in political theory for centuries, meritocratic ideals seek to assign roles based on individual qualities, especially when it comes to leadership in government.

Plato’s proposal of philosopher king, which calls for rulers endowed with knowledge and virtue, is far-fetched from the idea of popular democracy seen in most modern states.

Alas, fragments of this belief are still present in some shape or form, especially when it comes to electoral eligibility for high offices of government. This is achieved through a balance, ensuring that democratic expression doesn’t overly favour populism. At the same time, it requires that those in high office possess the necessary skills and wisdom for effective governance, attributes cultivated throughout human history.

Implementing merit-based electoral eligibility necessitates a nuanced approach. For one, using competence as a basis for electability should not come at the expense of societal representation which is central to the idea of democracy by, from and for the people. Merit should be determined such that it allows only competent people to become officials but not too far that it becomes a vehicle for elitism.

Other factors that are unique to individual states, such as educational standards and economic conditions, may also be of influence, thus why some countries like Indonesia implement an open legal policy for electoral requirements, including presidential candidacy.

Singapore is an example of a state which has successfully implemented a very high standard for presidential candidacy, notably with a minimum age of 45 and public/private sector leadership experience. Given the small island state’s world-renowned focus on efficient governance and economic growth, this kind of tall order is not surprising. On the other extreme, countries like Canada and New Zealand impose very low requirements, namely the age of adulthood – 18.

Developing countries such as Indonesia are more likely to benefit from having higher merit thresholds for practical reasons like internal political stability. By setting high standards for candidacy, the country may follow in the footsteps of successful historical precedents like Japan’s Meiji restoration, which established a stable and prosperous society by ensuring leadership was vested in experienced and capable individuals.

The Right Kind(s) of Merit?

What is particularly intriguing about the partially granted petition is the fact that out of the nine presiding justices, only three fully supported the decision, two provided concurring opinions and four provided dissenting opinions. That said, there are at least two layers of arguments that can be explored.

First, Justice Saldi Isra’s dissenting opinion has been hailed for being substantively comprehensive and procedurally transparent. The dissenting judges acknowledged how politically entrenched the cases brought upon them were. In the name of integrity of the Court – in maintaining its jurisprudence and of the justice system in its entirety – the justices rejected the petition as they believed qualifications for the presidency to be a matter that should be decided through a political rather than judicial process. This is because it falls under the category of open legal policy. This has been proven by the multiple changes made to the presidential age provision in the past.

Second, the concurring opinions of Justices Enny Nurbaningsih and Daniel Foekh are similarly, if not more, compelling, as they shed light on how Indonesia’s vast geographical area and complex government structure can play into the equation. Different from the final decision –they opined that an alternative kind of merit can be used as a requirement: prior experience as a provincial governor. This is due to the tall electoral requirements as well as more complex job descriptions of the governor position, compared to other elected posts including legislative member, regent or mayor.

An important point that was also highlighted in Justice Nurbaningsih’s opinion is the underlying difference between the fact of holding an elected position and being elected for said position: the former relates to capacity while the latter on democratic popularity. Unfortunately, the phrasing of the decision itself is very ambiguous as it translates to “…being at least 40 (forty) years old or has held/is holding a position that was elected through a general election, including regional head elections.” Even in the original Bahasa Indonesia text, this opens up debate on which of the two meanings is actually intended. This ambiguity alone can be subject to another petition, perpetuating the chain of perplexity of this whole episode.

The Long Game

It is not hard to see why the court’s decision gains notoriety, even after discounting the political “coincidence” factor. The question of merit is, as the justices themselves display through extensive elaboration among themselves, the crux of this whole furore. Despite the common agreement – or at least the absence of express disagreement – that merit is paramount for the highest position in the republic, differences exist on how this should be manifested.

As it stands today, the highly controversial decision is final and binding. This is in spite of the fact that Chief Justice Usman has been proven to have conducted an ethical violation and was subsequently removed from his primary post.

However, this should not mark the end of the scholarly community and even the general public’s inquisition on the role and form of merit in the Indonesian electoral system. Perhaps more so than any other in the past few years, the decision brings about more questions that could and should be brought up again to the court in the coming years, once it is freed from political infestation.

Introduction

Indonesia has recently seen an influx of foreign universities establishing branch campuses locally. Monash University was the first to enter in 2021, prompting others like King’s College London and Curtin University to do the same across a number of cities like Bandung, Denpasar and the soon-to-be Indonesian capital city of Nusantara in the coming years.

While only offering only a few postgraduate degrees currently, these institutions aspire to tap into the country’s young population by eventually establishing undergraduate programs.

The trend of internationalizing higher education has gone for quite some time particularly with the red carpet that is provided by Indonesia’s Omnibus law. Previously, foreign universities were allowed to establish their branches in Indonesia under the condition that it works in cooperation with Indonesian universities and prioritizing Indonesian lecturer and manpower. With the existence of the Omnibus law, foreign universities are no longer limited by accreditation and geographical requirements.

In a more specific context, these types of education – which consists of courses/programs where the student is located in another country different from the awarding institution – is termed transnational education. The global demand for transnational education has not only been academically motivated, but also includes reasons such as migration, political and economic security, employment, and even tourism.

While modes of transnational education may vary – such as partnerships, distance or virtual education, student exchanges – a particular form of “establishing branch campus” becomes a unique challenge for Indonesia.

Challenges

Despite the market driven spirit to promote multicultural, diverse and internationalized outlooks among students, the existence of foreign universities is still rife with challenges.

The most general concerns relate to the cultural and practical constraints.

The former is due to the lack of academic and intellectual cultures among the academics and students. The perspectives and theoretical approaches that are given by foreign academics undoubtedly brings novelty to the learning process of Indonesian students. However, these theories and experiences are often difficult to be translated into the context of Indonesia’s situation. There needs to be an effort to contextualize internationally-influenced study materials into the Indonesian context.

In terms of language, there is a risk of a paradoxical situation between English being used as the medium of instruction and it being a foreign language. This challenges students who do not use English as their first language but are being assessed by “native speaker” academics. This raises the question whether the use of English as a primary indicator is appropriate.

Additionally, the concern of the westernization of Indonesian culture, tradition and heritage is inseparable. This is due to the different academic and teaching norms that come from the instructor’s background. This concern correlates with the risk of the use of non-contextual curriculum, by which students are forced to learn from the lens of western-instructors.

Taking a broader view on the entire higher education landscape, there are also issues related to access and affordability which is an age-old problem not just in Indonesia but everywhere in the world. As seen in the case of the United Arab Emirates, which is the hub of foreign universities (especially American) today, a dual market may bring about problems related to the workforce. The mere existence of foreign universities – without added efforts to increase equality of access (in various forms) may – for one, result in a very divided job market and thus economic opportunities.

Remedies

In order to overcome these concerns, there are a few things that could be done to optimize the benefit of transnational education for Indonesia.

The first key success component is a relevant curriculum. It has become a mainstream understanding that education needs to be contextualized in order to create a seamless transition from school to the real world. However, the question then is how should this “contextualization” take form.

Incorporating cultural values and national language into the learning process are options that comes naturally to mind. While this is a convenient answer and a good starting point, things should not stop there. The entire curriculum should be constructed in a way that benefits both the students and larger populace by bridging supply and demand, with the society’s overall condition in mind.

Being relevant in a developing country like Indonesia, for instance, means prioritizing practicality over diversity of courses. Degrees in Jewish civilization or theatrical arts may not attract many (if any) students as compared to engineering or medical sciences, especially given the high tuition cost. By extension, high-in-demand programs should also ascertain that the content delivered is not too much ahead of the nation’s capability such that the knowledge gained may not be utilized –  a lesson the Indonesian government learned the hard way through its Endowment Fund (LPDP). A balance should be struck between promoting the advancement of theoretical science and ensuring that national economic and social interests are satisfied, at least in the short-term.

Second, the establishment of foreign universities in Indonesia should always support national public and economic interest. There is a need to enhance the integration of foreign universities in Indonesia with the educational policies and initiatives of local universities. This improvement should focus on increasing opportunities for both domestic students and lecturers to gain international exposure from foreign universities. This expansion should encompass not only student exchange programs and scholarships but also include lecturer exchanges, collaborative research initiatives, and fellowship programs for academics.

Finally, the entry of foreign institutions could and should be leveraged as a means of improving equity in educational accessibility. The first form of equity is that of geographical distribution. Despite having thousands of islands, Indonesia’s higher education suffers from the classical pitfall of Java-centrism, seen from the fact that all of the top 10 universities are located on the island. The government would play a crucial role in pushing new entrants to bring world-class education to more parts of the country by providing incentives and/or limiting campus establishment per city. Bearing in mind the relatively low number of tertiary education enrollment in the country, particularly in regional areas, further alignment of interest so as to balance the interests of these institutions with that of the country’s to make education accessible to as many people as possible instead of just those in the urban areas.

Inclusivity in terms of access across economic classes is also something that should be deeply considered and systematically addressed. Foreign universities are almost always associated with expensive fees. Tuition is largely unaffordable for most, even in opulent cities like Jakarta. That said, imposing set quotas for high-potential, underprivileged students would be instrumental in increasing intra-area inclusivity. With LPDP, the government could also engage in co-funding schemes with the universities directly. Doing so would also help ensure that bright, well-educated talents would tangibly contribute to the country.

Generally speaking, as a policy or its guiding principle, the government should be very cautious on where they should draw the lines between foreign and domestic universities. For example, differentiated treatments with regard to administration and financing should be formulated such that there is enough incentive for foreign institutions to support the aims of equitable opportunities for all Indonesian citizens, but not excessive that it becomes predatory to its own public and private institutions that have long contributed to the nation’s development.

Depending on the lens used, the existence of universities from abroad can be both a challenge and an opportunity. On the one hand, there are problems that our own institutions have not been able to address, but on the other, these institutions can help alleviate the burden by bringing best practices and facilities to more people nationwide. The government now stands amid the situation as the deciding factor and architect.