The Exclusion of the Palestinian Voice

Indonesia’s decision to join the Board of Peace (BoP), initiated by President Donald Trump, has been defended by President Prabowo Subianto as pragmatic diplomacy aimed at promoting peace in Gaza.

In reality, it exposes something far more consequential than a single policy choice. It reveals a foreign policy increasingly defined by short-term calculations, access-seeking and symbolic politics rather than by principle, strategy, or moral clarity. What is presented as engagement is, in fact, a normative retreat.

Nowhere is this clearer than in the gap between Indonesia’s ambition and its leverage. Indonesia risks failing the Palestinians and in particular the Gazans despite its constitutional pledge to support the independence of oppressed nations.

In this regard, the BoP claims to offer a framework for post-war stabilisation, but it is structurally excluding Palestinian representation. A peace initiative that excludes the very people whose lives and futures are at stake is not an oversight but a political decision reaffirming the old adage of “might is right”.

By joining such an arrangement without protest or conditions, is Indonesia ready to accept the criticism that it is willing to enforce peace in Gaza without the involvement of the Palestinians?  Surely Prabowo’s attempt at securing diplomatic proximity to powerful actors should not come at the expense of Palestinian independence?

Humanitarian Aid?

Prabowo has attempted to justify this position through humanitarian rhetoric, emphasising aid delivery and claims of reduced suffering.

This framing is not merely inadequate but also misleading. Humanitarian access is often used in situations of occupation and asymmetric violence to evade international scrutiny while the systems that support violence are left intact.

Crucially, this narrative ignores the reality that Israel has systematically weaponised aid and frequently blocked access as a tactic of war despite diplomatic entreaties. There is no guarantee that Indonesia’s presence in the BoP would deter Tel Aviv from repeating such violations.

Aid that flows without responsibility does not signal development but risks sending signals that Indonesia is accommodating Trump’s interests and his allies’. Prabowo’s aid narrative could end up legitimising a political grouping that preserves the causes of violence by confusing relief with justice.

The Fragmentation of Global Governance

The institutional implications of the BoP further underscore the weak direction of Prabowo’s foreign policy vision. The initiative has emerged as an alternative body that sidesteps the United Nations, taking shape as a parallel forum where participation is selective and decisions rest largely on political discretion.

This, of course, contravenes Prabowo’s vocal commitment towards multilateralism. Endorsing an ad hoc mechanism (the BoP) designed to bypass existing institutions (the United Nations) does not strengthen global governance but fragments it. For a country that has long promoted international law and is also subject to it, this marks an inconsistency in foreign policy posturing.      

What makes this particularly head-scratching is Indonesia’s lack of leverage within the initiative. Unlike major powers, Indonesia possesses neither the economic stick to sanction violations nor the military carrot to guarantee security.

Without diplomatic relations with Israel, Jakarta holds no bilateral cards to play; it cannot threaten to withdraw an ambassador or freeze trade assets it does not have. Consequently, Indonesia is relegated to the role of a “rule-taker” rather than a “rule-maker” in the BoP. Indonesia also holds neither a veto power nor the economic weight to steer its agenda.

Status Affirmation and the High Table

However, symbolism matters. Joining the BoP may not be the one political currency that ushers Prabowo to an election victory in 2029, but it lends values to his effort in crafting an image as a statesman and boosts his international standing.

For Prabowo, participation in the BoP serves a different purpose: status affirmation. Being seated at the high table provides visual proof of Indonesia’s (and his own) elevation from a peripheral observer to a central player

Nevertheless, pursuing this may further erode Indonesia’s diplomatic identity. For decades, Indonesia’s foreign policy settled on a clear normative foundation, articulated through the principle of bebas aktif (independent and active) and embodied in its leadership of the postcolonial world. Under the current president, this tradition is no longer an identity, as foreign policy becomes transactional and personality-driven. The result is not flexibility but drift.    

The danger of this deviation from tradition extends beyond Gaza. By aligning with a neo-imperial project driven by the preferences of a single great power, Jakarta’s credibility across the Global South weakens. Many developing states continue to rely on multilateral institutions as a safeguard against arbitrary power. Indonesia’s

Defenders of Prabowo’s approach frame this manoeuvre through a rationalist lens, echoing Lichbach & Zuckerman’s logic of utility maximisation. The logic is seductive: the utility of being inside the room shaping the conversation implies higher payoffs than the costs of shouting from the outside.

History shows that peace imposed without justice does not endure, and reconstruction without accountability entrenches grievance. If the BoP were serious about ending the conflict, it would prioritise restraint of violence, legal accountability and political inclusion.

On the contrary, Israel has resumed its indiscriminate bombing campaigns in Gaza, rendering any talk of “post-war stabilisation” premature and absurd. Curiously, despite this escalation, Indonesia has not demanded that the BoP enforce a halt to the violence.

Even though his decision has been met with criticism, including from the Majelis Ulama Indonesia (MUI), CSOs, experts and NGOs, Prabowo has not sought to reverse or suspend Indonesia’s participation in the BoP. Instead, he has invited MUI, Islamic organisations, as well as former ministers and vice ministers of foreign affairs to join him in consultation meetings.

In doing so, the government has essentially shifted the responsibility onto respected figures such as religious leaders, former ministers and experts to validate Indonesia’s decision to join the BoP. This is critical especially to rally public support, which has been rather cold. The policy itself remained

Way Forward

Indonesia still has a choice, but that choice requires political courage. A principled foreign policy would insist on Palestinian representation, openly challenge the normalisation of impunity and draw clear boundaries around participation in the BoP. Most importantly, it would recognise that withdrawing legitimacy from a flawed process is sometimes more powerful than lending it.

Indonesia, however, has thus far shown little inclination to exercise that option. 

What is at stake is not merely Indonesia’s position on Gaza, but its role in the world. Indonesia risks becoming a state that attends every forum yet stands for nothing, that speaks the language of peace while accommodating injustice. This is a serious erosion of the country’s diplomatic legacy.  

Peace is not built through access, ceremony or proximity to power. It is built through the willingness to confront power in defence of law and human dignity. Until Prabowo’s foreign policy recovers that willingness, Indonesia’s global presence will continue to grow louder and emptier at the same time.

Introduction

The floods and landslides that ripped through central Sumatra on 26 November 2025 were more than a freak of weather. They became a harsh test of how the Indonesian state functions under pressure.

Driven by relentless rainfall linked to Cyclone Senyar, the disaster struck Aceh, North Sumatra and West Sumatra almost simultaneously, overwhelming local authorities within days.

By mid-December, figures released by the National Disaster Management Agency told a sobering story: more than 1,000 people had died, nearly 200 were still missing and hundreds of thousands had been forced from their homes.

But beyond the numbers lies a landscape of systemic ruin. Tens of thousands of homes were reduced to debris. Roads, bridges and electricity grids—the region’s literal nervous system—snapped, leaving entire districts in a state of primitive isolation for days.

In Aceh Tengah alone, the damage to over 4,000 houses forced 12,000 residents into overcrowded temporary shelters. In the mountainous interior, landslides acted as physical censors, severing access routes so completely that aid could only trickle in via limited air drops or on the backs of volunteers trekking through miles of sludge.

The crisis was not just one of infrastructure but of survival. Prolonged power outages did not just mean dark houses; they meant the death of water supply systems and the paralysis of hospital operations.

Reports emerging from the mud-caked districts described a harrowing reality: families surviving on dwindling food stocks, community kitchens struggling to feed thousands and parents skipping meals so their children could eat.

At the same time, aid convoys remained bogged down miles away. These were not mere peripheral hiccups in a logistics chain; they were the flashing red lights of a systemic breakdown in basic service delivery at the absolute height of a humanitarian emergency.

The Doctrine of “Positive News”

As the sheer scale of the devastation became impossible to ignore, a curious secondary crisis began to emerge: a crisis of narrative.

Rather than a raw, transparent accounting of the gaps in the response, senior government figures started a concerted effort to steer the public gaze. Media outlets were pointedly urged to focus on “positive news”. The underlying subtext was clear: avoid any framing that suggested state institutions were absent, slow or ineffective.

The official rhetoric leaned heavily on the optics of heroism—endless praise for the soldiers, police officers and emergency responders on the front lines. While their effort was undeniably heroic, the political use of that heroism served to shield the upper echelons of power from scrutiny. President Prabowo Subianto, alongside several cabinet ministers, took this further by asserting that Indonesia is a “large and strong” country, fully capable of managing this catastrophe without outside interference or internal doubt.

In this theatre of national resilience, “strength” was redefined. It was no longer a measurable metric of how many people were rescued or how fast the lights came back on; it became a matter of national stature and unshakeable resolve.

In this high-stakes framing, admitting to institutional limits was rebranded as a sign of weakness. Honest criticism was blurred into a form of disloyalty. The priority shifted, almost imperceptibly, from assessing the quality of the response to projecting an aura of unflappable confidence.

The High Cost of Silence

This rhetorical pivot does far more than soothe public anxiety. It fundamentally distorts the way information flows within the state apparatus. Effective disaster governance is not just about moving trucks and helicopters; it is about the “informational metabolism” of the state—the ability to process accurate and often deeply embarrassing data from the disaster zone to the desks of decision-makers.

In an emergency of this magnitude, the most vital failures – the ones that actually cost lives – rarely appear in a polished official briefing. They are found in delayed evacuations, broken supply chains and communities that fall through the cracks of administrative maps.

Independent reporting from disaster zones acts as a decentralised form of situational awareness. It reveals the blind spots that a centralised command structure, often blinded by its own hierarchy, cannot see in real time.

However, in the wake of the Sumatra floods, the “informational infrastructure” began to crack. Journalists in Aceh reported a stifling atmosphere. Stories documenting aid delays, persistent fuel shortages and the continued isolation of villages were suddenly deemed “sensitive”.

Editors, facing the harsh economic reality of declining revenues and a reliance on advertising from state-linked enterprises, opted for self-restraint. In one particularly chilling instance, a video report showing a journalist’s raw, distressed account of starving residents was pulled by the outlet itself. The reason? A vague concern that the footage could be “misused“.

These were not isolated incidents of editorial caution; they were symptoms of a broader trend where crisis narratives are treated as objects of state governance. Across Asia, we see governments becoming hypersensitive to how disasters are framed in an interconnected digital world.

Calls for “unity” and “positivity” function as informal muzzles, encouraging media organisations to narrow the scope of their scrutiny without the need for a single

Resilience Through Critique

From a purely institutional perspective, this obsession with image is a strategic blunder. It weakens the state rather than protecting it. History shows us that effective governments are those that embrace negative feedback to identify failures and pivot policy.

Look at Japan: its high safety standards and world-class crisis coordination were not born from reassuring narratives. They were the hard-won results of decades of relentless, uncomfortable investigative reporting that exposed institutional rot and forced regulatory oversight. Japan became strong because it allowed itself to be seen as weak and then fixed the cause of that weakness.

Indonesia’s floods underscore exactly why this distinction is a matter of life and death. For years, environmentalists and civil society groups have warned that the rampant deforestation, land conversion and abysmal watershed governance in Sumatra have turned seasonal rains into lethal weapons.

When we report on the rising death toll and infrastructure collapse as a direct consequence of these policy failures, we challenge the convenient perception that disasters are “unavoidable natural events”. Without that scrutiny, the structural vulnerabilities remain, ensuring that the next cyclone will produce the same pattern of preventable death.

The implications ripple far beyond our borders. For global investors, insurers and regional partners, a government’s performance during a disaster is a proxy for its overall governance quality. True credibility is not built by pretending everything is fine; it is built by signalling institutional maturity—the willingness to look at a failure, learn from it and adapt.

When official claims of “strength” are contradicted by viral videos of hunger and isolation, trust does not just erode—it vaporises. In that vacuum of trust, rumours and misinformatio

Comfort vs Accuracy

Ultimately, the core trade-off facing the Indonesian leadership is not between criticism and stability. It is a choice between reputational comfort and informational accuracy.

Prioritising symbolic strength might buy a few weeks of political peace, but it creates massive informational blind spots. In a complex emergency, delayed recognition of failure translates directly into delayed intervention, which in turn leads to higher mortality rates. Apparent stability in the headlines often conceals a growing, dangerous fragility within the institutions themselves.

Our democratic reforms after 1998 were supposed to dismantle the machinery of media control. While the formal instruments of the New Order may be gone, the logic of “narrative management” has evolved to survive in a digital, market-driven era.

Media organisations, struggling to stay afloat, find that self-censorship is the most “rational” business decision. This “soft repression” is more insidious than the old ways because it maintains the facade of a free press while hollowing out its ability to hold power accountable.

In this age of climate crisis, the Sumatra floods will not be an anomaly; they will be the blueprint for the future. States across Asia will face immense pressure to demonstrate competence under the glare of global scrutiny. The hallmark of a truly effective government in the 21st century will be its ability to absorb criticism, process uncomfortable information and adjust its trajectory in real time.

After all, criticism should not be perceived as an instrument of rejection; rather, it is an expression of betterment and hope.

The debate sparked by the tragedy in Sumatra is not a niche argument about media ethics or “journalistic sensitivity”. It is a fundamental question about the future of the Indonesian state. Against this backdrop, thus, are we willing to move beyond declarations of greatn

Pragmatic

President Prabowo Subianto’s first year in office has tested the limits of Indonesia’s diplomatic reach, despite questions about its coherence.

The country’s foreign policy now operates in an international environment more volatile than any since the 1997 Asian Financial Crisis. Great-power rivalries have intensified, the regional order has become increasingly fragmented, and middle powers have struggled to assert their agency.

Indonesia has answered this uncertainty not with a clear doctrine but with pragmatic activism that seeks advantage wherever it can be found. The question is whether this opportunism represents adaptation or drift.

Jakarta’s conduct during Prabowo’s first year shows a steady replacement of long-standing principles with transactional reasoning. The government has entered forums that once stood at the opposite poles of world politics.

By joining BRICS while simultaneously applying for an OECD membership, Indonesia has signalled a preference for participation over persuasion. Each move delivers tactical flexibility. Nevertheless, the sum of these engagements reveals an absence of hierarchy among goals.

From Participating to Positioning

In other words, diplomacy has become a quest for position rather than a pursuit of purpose.

This shift is clear in how Indonesia manages its great power relations. Prabowo’s decision to make China his first foreign trip destination after inauguration was not merely about timing but also signalling a degree of dependence. Beijing’s role as Indonesia’s main investor and trading partner now threatens ASEAN centrality, as growing economic reliance narrows Jakarta’s capacity to lead the regional agenda and steers diplomacy away from regional cooperation.

Engagement with Washington continues but is increasingly commercial, centred on defence procurement and tariff talks rather than strategic dialogue. The United States remains a partner of necessity – not of vision – as cooperation serves sh

Between the two giants, Prabowo has pursued tactical balance without strategic design.

What Indonesia practices today could be described as selective alignment. The government builds ties issue by issue, shifting partners according to material interest.

In defence, Jakarta turns to France for prestige procurement. In infrastructure, it looks to China for capital. In multilateral arenas, it speaks of inclusivity but rarely articulates what that means.

This pattern may signify that we have entered the era of multipolar bargaining, yet it departs from Indonesia’s earlier identity as a middle power that mediated rather than traded. The moral authority once derived from non-alignment has shifted into cautious neutrality.

The Erosion of Regional Leadership

This pragmatic turn has had the most severe impact on regional diplomacy.

ASEAN, once the anchor of Indonesia’s international posture, now functions mainly as a ceremonial reference point. Prabowo’s government participates fully but rarely takes the lead.

Plans for the region’s Myanmar conundrum, the South China Sea and economic integration have proceeded without Indonesian initiative. Even during its ASEAN chairmanship, Jakarta’s diplomacy on Myanmar produced little movement beyond procedural engagement, despite the lauded initiative to introduce the Five-Point Consensus and extensive consultations.

Enduring commitment to the Consensus should not be mistaken for progressive steps in this subject, and, as a result, ASEAN’s and Indonesia’s credibilities take a hit. The perceived decline in ASEAN centrality is not the resul

Leadership has been replaced by attendance, and consensus by convenience. Indonesia’s neighbours quietly observe this absence, adjusting by pursuing their own hedging strategies rather than waiting for Jakarta to set direction. The idea of Indonesia as a first among equals has quietly dissolved into the background noise of regional diplomacy—a reality underlined by calls for Jakarta to reclaim the leadership it once embodied within ASEAN.

Indonesia’s approach to global crises follows the same logic. The president’s appearance at the Gaza peace conference was intended to be diplomatically safe; however, questions have arisen about whether his statement carries substance.

His call for balance between Palestinian independence and Israeli security echoed international platitudes rather than Indonesia’s traditional support for justice and decolonisation. The phrasing implies a false symmetry between occupier and occupied, weakening Indonesia’s commitment to anti-colonial solidarity. At home, it unsettled parts of the public who see any reference to “Israeli security” as a break from Indonesia’s historic support for Palestine and the moral idiom of the Global South.

It also confirmed that Jakarta now values acceptability over advocacy. While middle powers such as Brazil, Turkey and South Africa redefine their roles through moral entrepreneurship – mediating conflicts, advocating reform of global governance and pursuing justice in Gaza – Indonesia has chosen silence. The country that once shaped the moral vocabulary of the Global South now sounds unsure of its convictions, losing credibility among emerging powers and letting others set the normative agenda. This hesitation limits Jakarta’s capacity to shape norms, weakens its leverage in multilateral arenas and erodes its claim to post-colonial agency.

Centralisation without Coherence

Behind these choices lies a deeper structural change. The foreign ministry, once the guardian of professional diplomacy, has been overshadowed by the very president. Policy direction now flows from the palace, where a small inner circle of advisers shapes decisions. The absence of a full-time, autonomous foreign minister has weakened coherence across portfo

This centralisation has already shown its costs, from inconsistent messaging between the palace and the foreign ministry over Indonesia’s stance on Gaza to overlapping presidential announcements on defence partnerships that left diplomats struggling to maintain policy clarity.

With Prabowo at its helm, Indonesia’s external behaviour reflects individual preferences more than institutional planning. In this sense, Prabowo’s foreign policy is not incoherent by accident but by design. It concentrates authority in one office and measures success through visibility rather than results.

To its supporters, this concentration represents efficiency. They argue that Indonesia must move quickly in a competitive region and that a strong presidency ensures unity of voice.

However, unity without deliberation produces fragility. When diplomacy becomes an extension of personal command, it loses continuity. Partners find it difficult to read Jakarta’s intentions because they depend on the president’s shifting calculus rather than on stable commitments. Influence that relies on charisma tends to fade when attention shifts elsewhere.

International confidence is cumulative, not theatrical. It grows through predictability, not surprise.

Strategic transactionalism, the hallmark of Prabowo’s first year, has advantages in a fragmented order. It enables Indonesia to navigate rivalries, attract investment and maintain flexibility, but it also carries two long-term costs.

The first is conceptual. By reducing foreign policy to bargaining, Indonesia abandons the intellectual framework that once gave its diplomacy coherence. Without a guiding set of ideas, future governments risk drifting from one tactical alignment to another, eroding predictability and weakening the country’s credibility as a strategic partner.

The second is reputational. When every engagement is treated as a transaction, others respond in kind, and subsequently, trust erodes. Indonesia risks being seen as a country that is always available but rarely reliable. Over time, this perception will make partners reluctant to invest political or economic capital in deeper cooperation. It also undermines Jakarta’s ability to lead or broker consensus in regional affairs, where credibility depends as much on consistency as on capability.

The irony is that this instrumentalism emerges just as Indonesia’s objective weight appears to be increasing. Its economy continues to expand, and its diplomatic reach has widened through new memberships and partnerships. Yet, these gains remain shallow, constrained by limited institutional capacity and a lack of strategic coherence.

Material power alone does not translate into influence without an anchoring narrative. For decades, Indonesia’s global relevance came from its ability to turn its limitations into a philosophy of conduct. The language of moderation, dialogue and respect for sovereignty made it a moral middle power. Today, that narrative has thinned. Jakarta’s speeches sound fluent but empty, full of participation but short on authorship.

Conclusion

Foreign leaders and observers often describe Prabowo’s diplomacy as restless or hyperactive, but the more accurate word may be absorptive. Indonesia is absorbing the logic of other powers rather than articulating its own distinct perspective. Its leaders invoke independence yet mimic the transactionalism they claim to balance. The longer this continues, the more Indonesia’s foreign policy risks resembling a mirror rather than a compass.

In its second year, the government must decide whether to remain a flexible participant or recover its identity as a strategic actor. A coherent policy can still be pragmatic if it has clear priorities such as defence modernisation that supports regional stability, partnerships that reduce dependency and engagement that protects equality and restraint. These aims require discipline to prevent pragmatism from drifting.

Indonesia’s strength lies in its ability to bridge divided powers. To reclaim that role, Prabowo must restore institutional authority and return diplomacy to a process rather than a personality-driven approach. Continuity beyond electoral cycles will make foreign policy durable and presidential strength more credible.

One year on, Prabowo has shown that Indonesia can move quickly in every direction but not yet that it knows where it is going. The past year, indeed, brought visibility and applause, but there will be expectations for Prabowo henceforth to insert substance into his calls, petitions and speeches. A diplomacy built on transactions may endure turbulence but will not shape it. Indonesia must move from flexibility to authorship or risk remaining active yet weightless, present in every room yet absent from every decision. The test for Prabowo’s next years is not whether Indonesia can be everywhere, but whether it can be consequential anywhere.

Prelude

The Indonesian government’s effort to craft a new official history is not merely an academic initiative—it is an ideological intervention into the nation’s collective memory.

This project signals a conscious attempt to construct a history devoid of structure and, therefore, does not cover the state’s responsibility for past failures. These include Minister of Culture Fadli Zon’s denial of the mass sexual violence during the May 1998 riots to the apparent removal of political-economic contexts from the manuscript’s early drafts.

1998

The tragedy in May 1998 was never just about violence or political unrest on the street; it was the explosive end of a crisis that had been ongoing for a long time. The crisis destroyed the New Order regime’s false sense of economic stability that spanned over 32 years.

In its official report, the Joint Fact-Finding Team (TGPF) recorded at least 152 cases of sexual violence during the riots, mostly targeting women of Chinese descent. These were not isolated or spontaneous acts; they were racialised, gendered forms of violence—born from economic frustration, scapegoating and systemic exclusion.

For the ethnic Chinese community – many with ancestral ties to China – the trauma of 1998 is not a closed chapter. It remains a raw cut, left unacknowledged by the state. The attempt to fully erase it from the public memory is akin to rubbing salt into the wound.

These women were not only victims of sexual violence but of a broader structural collapse. Denying their experience means getting rid of the moral debt owed by the state to an already marginalised community.

Crucially, their suffering was not isolated—it was deeply intertwined with the collapse of Indonesia’s economic system, which unravelled under the weight of long-standing structural vulnerabilities.

The Story of the State Making

The official narrative under construction offers little recognition of the intertwined realities that set the stage for the crisis.

In the government’s retelling of 1998, the economic breakdown that exacerbated racialised violence is conspicuously absent. There is no meaningful reflection on the Bank Indonesia Liquidity Assistance (BLBI) programme, which created a long-term fiscal burden. No critical discussion of Indonesia’s skewed liberalisation or the class-driven nature of its reforms. No serious engagement with the implications of the November 1997 Letter of Intent (LoI) with the International Monetary Fund (IMF), which marked the turning point at wh

The choice to rewrite history is not just a neutral act of academic revision but a strategic effort to shape the national memory in ways that reinforce state legitimacy. It is a process that whitewashes the events of 1998 and takes away the economic and structural contexts that enabled the crisis.

By doing so, the government is seen to be erecting a barrier that separates the ruling elite from past errors. This is because giving a full acknowledgement to the political econo

This is why a history rewrite is necessary for the government. Rather than highlighting the enduring presence of these elites, the new historical narrative offers a selective amnesia: one that presents rupture without accountability and reform without structural reckoning.

In this way, the historical revision appears to prioritise stability and the status quo over scrutiny, reconciliation and reparation.

Economics as Power and Ideology

For decades, economic history in Indonesia has been pushed to the margins—treated merely as data on inflation, imports or exchange rates.

But economics is never just about numbers. It is about human decisions, beliefs, social norms and power. It is the field where governments make moral choices: who is subsidised, who is excluded, who is protected and who is expendable. When econo

This is why economic history must be understood not as a technical appendix to politics, but as a concrete exercise of power. It is enacted through fiscal laws, legal frameworks and patronage networks.

For example, the 1967 Foreign Investment Law (UU PMA), enacted early in Suharto’s rule, did more than invite foreign capital. It signalled the consolidation of a post-1965 authoritarian regime whose legitimacy depended on military-business alliances. That law was not neutral; it was shaped by geopolitical interests and domestic power plays that legitimised authoritarian capitalism.

In this light, economics must be read as ideology—not as neutral accounting, but as a system that defines who is deemed productive, who is excluded and who is sacrificed in times of crisis. The LoI signed with IMF in 1997 was far more than a technical agreement; it constituted a strategic blueprint for neoliberal restructuring that reshaped Indonesia’s public institutions and diminished state capacity in favour of market-oriented governance. These ideological consequences, however, are nowhere to be found in the existing historical draft.

Economic Collapse and Enduring Scars

The effort to silence certain sensitive aspects

In Indonesia, economic history has rarely been used as a lens to examine the links between the state, foreign capital and domestic elites.

From Sukarno’s nationalisation programmes to the sweeping liberalisation after 1966, Indonesia’s economic policies have always been entangled in geopolitical contestation and elite negotiation. But these dynamics are often deemed “too technical” for public understanding—or too politically dangerous for official historiography.

Such perception risks obscuring causal links, potentially favouring simplified narratives – such as attributing collapse to a lack of moral character – over a thorough analysis of underlying economic vulnerabilities.

In Indonesia: The Rise of Capital, Richard Robison shows that the New Order was never about public welfare. It was a project of crony capitalism, maintained through strategic alliances bet

The 1997–1998 crisis was not a natural disaster. It was a structural implosion. When the rupiah collapsed and capital flight surged, the entire edifice of Suharto’s New Order – built on centralised power, military alliances and oligarchic patronage – came crashing down. IMF’s intervention, while offering a path to recovery, also introduced conditionalities that impacted national economic autonomy. Sixteen private banks were closed. Subsidies were cut. Social protections were gutted. These moves triggered mass layoffs, economic instability and widespread suffering.

The crisis did not end with the riots. Years after the crisis, Indonesia’s GDP had not fully recovered to the same level as it was before 1997. Even though the riots targeted Chinese Indonesians, the economic pain scarred the entire nation.

Rewriting History

The riots were essentially a surge of social rage. But that anger was not merely political—it was economic. It was borne of desperation, one that triggered violence, especially against those perceived to represent “privilege”, including the ethnic Chinese.

Presenting this violence solely as an isolated anomaly, without acknowledging the systemic factors that enabled it, risks an incomplete and potentially misleading historical account.

To forget these women – their pain, their names, their stories – is to allow the same structures and failures to persist. To write them out of the narrative is not only an act of neglect but a betrayal of truth itself.

What we are witnessing today is a structured politics of forgetting. By decoupling violence from economics and economics from policy, the state effectively absolves itself—not through denial of facts, but through erasure of context.

In Reorganising Power in Indonesia: The Politics of Oligarchy in an Age of Markets, Robison and his co-author Vedi R Hadiz make it clear that Indonesia’s oligarchy did not fall with Suharto. It adapted, reinvented itself and survived through democratic institutions. These oligarchs have retained power by taking control of reform narratives, manipulating market reforms and reshaping institutions in their own interest.

Robison and Hadiz called this process part of oligarchic consolidation. The elites survived transitions not by resisting change, but by capturing its narrative. Official history that ignores BLBI, IMF or the racialised violence of 1998 is not just incomplete—it is complicit. It sets the terms for what the next generation is allowed to, and should, remember. And because economics is the domain where power is most deeply entrenched, it is often the first to be censored.

Conc

A historical narrative that omits the political economy of the 1998 crisis not only blinds the public to the true nature of Reformasi—it severs the link between suffering and cause. This makes justice impossible, without which history only serves as a tool of power, not a means of reflection.

Suharto’s regime may have fallen 27 years ago, but Indonesia has yet to fully reckon with the political and economic legacies of his regime. The official history surrounding his fall remains fragmented, separating structures from events, systems from individuals and policies from pain. If this continues, history will not teach accountability, allowing the same failures to recur. History should not protect the comfort of those in power. It should expose the ways power evades accountability. If political economy continues to be excluded from the story of who we are, what we inherit is not memory but structural blindness. It is a blindness that risks reproducing the same tragedy, with new actors, but with the same enduring logic of domination.

Introduction

Raja Ampat has long stood as a symbol of Indonesia’s eastern promise, renowned for its breathtaking marine biodiversity and vibrant cultural heritage. It is a place of global ecological importance and national pride.

Today, however, it finds itself at a decisive crossroads, caught between the imperatives of nature conservation and the push for resource extraction—essentially a dialectic between preserving tradition and embracing transformation.

At the heart of this tension is Gag Island, where a nickel mining project is taking shape. The project raises difficult questions—not only about environmental stewardship but also about the role that political and religious institutions play in defending the public interest.

Mining, in itself, is not inherently unethical. Indonesia’s economy has long leaned on natural resource extraction, and industrial development is

A particularly controversial figure in this narrative is KH Ahmad Fahrur Rozi, a senior cleric in Nahdlatul Ulama, who also holds a commissioner position at PT Gag Nikel. His public remarks downplaying the project’s environmental risks – and suggesting that local opposition may be tied to separatist interests – have sparked intense public debate.

What makes this moment especially complex is the intersection of religious authority, state power and corporate interest. When religious leaders take on official roles in extractive enterprises, it raises questions that go far beyond personal choices, as it calls into question the evolving role of religion itself in Indonesia’s democratic framework.

This is not to suggest that Nahdla

Entanglement

This is not a sudden development. In 2024, Nahdlatul Ulama accepted a mining concession from the government, which was presented as a form of “affirmative action” for religious organisations. It marked a structural shift in Nahdlatul Ulama’s public role: from a guardian of the moral commons to a stakeholder in extractive capitalism.

These concessions

This issue does not exist in a vacuum. Across the globe, religious institutions are increasingly drawn into public policy debates, especially in areas where development is contested.

In Indonesia, this often takes the form of strategic alliances between the state and major religious organisations to manage policy implementation, promote social cohesion, and retain political legitimacy—particularly in remote regions like Papua and eastern In

The concern here is not simply that Nahdlatul Ulama is politically active, but whether it can participate in these processes without losing its prophetic voice—that moral imperative to speak truth to power.

Nahdlatul Ulama’s role in the Gag Island controversy lays bare both the potential and the peril of institutional proximity to the state.

Figures like KH Ahmad Fahrur Rozi argue that participation allows for ethical oversight, that being “inside the system” offers a chance to ensure corporate actors remain accountable. This is a reasonable argument, especially in a political culture where those excluded from formal power are often sidelined completely.

At the national level, Nahdlatul Ulama has also shown genuine concern for environmental ethics drawn from Islamic teachings. Initiatives like fiqh lingkungan (the Islamic jurisprudence on the environment) have emerged from within its circles, promoting sustainable living, anti-waste norms and the theological duty to protect all creations (khalifah fil-ardh). These efforts provide a moral foundation for deeper engagement with environmental issues.

But contradictions surface when institutional behaviour appears to undercut these values. The presence of Nahdlatul Ulama leaders within corporate entities – especially when decisions seem unexamined or opaque – raises concerns about transparency and integrity.

It is not the involvement itself that alarms many observers but the apparent lack of critical debate or clear ethical boundaries. For those who have long seen Nahdlatul Ulama as a voice of conscience, the silence or defensiveness from within is deeply unsettling.

Prescriptions

To rebuild trust and clarity, Nahdlatul Ulama needs to revisit its own systems of internal accountability. A practical step forward would be to reactivate and empower bahtsul masail—the organisation’s traditional deliberative forums.

These bodies, if used effectively, can foster meaningful dialogue on pressing issues like ecological justice, corporate partnerships and the ethical use of religious authority. Coupled with greater transparency around leadership decisions, this could go a long way in reinforcing Nahdlatul Ulama’s credibility.

Another essential direction is to amplify the voices of Nahdlatul Ulama’s younger and academic branches. Organisations such as Gerakan Pemuda Ansor (GP Ansor) and Lembaga Kajian dan Pengembangan Sumber Daya Manusia (the Institution of the Human Resources Development and Studies – Lakpesdam) have a strong track record in

Strengthening their role in environmental discourse – whether around mining, deforestation or indigenous rights – can help decentralise Nahdlatul Ulama’s moral authority and renew its relevance. Change often begins from within, and Nahdlatul Ulama’s historical strength has been its capacity to adapt while staying anchored in core ethical commitments.

It is also worth considering whether Nahdlatul Ulama can serve as an honest broker between the industry, the state and the people. Rather than becoming a partisan ally to any single interest, Nahdlatul Ulama could reclaim its role as a wasit—a principled mediator that listens carefully and seeks fair, informed resolutions.

This would require creating a distance between its spiritual leaders and the operational roles within extractive industries. Distance does not have to mean disengagement—ethics-based mediation is a form of engagement in its own right.

Realignment

Nahdlatul Ulama is now at a critical juncture. If it continues on a path of selective endorsement or strategic silence, it risks alienating its base and undermining the moral authority it has spent generations building.

The danger here is not only reputational but also foundational. Religious organisations do not draw power from bureaucratic reach—they draw it from trust. When that trust begins to erode, institutional resilience becomes dangerously thin.

That said, there is still time for reflection and course correction. The controversy around Gag Island has already stirred meaningful debate across Nahdlatul Ulama-affiliated communities—from pesantren scholars to civil society actors. These conversations, though not always visible in national media, are pushing for a realignment of Nahdlatul Ulama’s moral compass with justice and sustainability.

If the national leadership is willing to listen, this could become a moment of renewal rather than decline.

Should NU fail to adapt, however, the long-term consequences could be severe. Its moral capital – once seen as a stabilising force in the Indonesian democracy – risks becoming a transactional asset, valued more for access and influence than for ethical leadership.

This shift could deepen public cynicism, not only towards Nahdlatul Ulama but also the role of religion in civic life. When spiritual institutions are perceived as merely echoing political or corporate agendas, their prophetic power dissipates.

But if Nahdlatul Ulama can rise to meet this challenge – by reassessing its internal governance, clearly delineating the line between religious service and commercial interest, and empowering the next generation – it could reaffirm its role as a moral cornerstone of the republic. The Gag Island affair, contentious as it is, presents an opportunity: not to retreat, but to realign.

Ultimately, the question is not whether Nahdlatul Ulama has stumbled but whether it has the institutional courage to confront the implications of that stumble.

This moment should not be dismissed as a minor controversy or a communications failure. It is a mirror, reflecting the deeper entanglements between faith, state and capital. If Nahdlatul Ulama looks away – if it treats this as a passing storm rather than a call for self-examination – its decline will not be triggered by outside forces but from within.

In this regard, Nahdlatul Ulama must decide: will it continue as a facilitator of state legitimacy, or will it reassert itself as an independent ethical force rooted in the lived experience of its followers? For Nahdlatul Ulama to retain its leadership, the cho

If it chooses the former, it may not collapse overnight but will slowly lose its relevance over time. The faithful will quietly drift elsewhere, towards smaller, more grounded communities that are less entangled in bureaucracy and financial opportunities.

All of this is to say that the

A faith that becomes indistinguishable from the interests of the state may survive as an institution, but it will have forfeited its soul.

Introduction

Indonesia’s political landscape is experiencing a significant shift that subtly leans towards increased military engagement in civilian affairs.

Following Prabowo Subianto’s election as president, Tentara Nasional Indonesia (TNI) has become a more visible and constant presence in a multitude of areas, including economic development and political process.

TNI’s role under the current government has expanded beyond traditional defence duties and into civilian matters, as will be explored below.

Although such may also be interpreted as TNI’s support for the government’s affairs, its consequences are significant. This is because such activity transcends TNI’s conventional role as the security provider and affords it an opportunity to participate in the state’s governing process.

This is not new. The military was a primary force in Indonesia’s politics during former president Suharto’s New Order regime, during which it incorporated the concept of dwifungsi (dual role)in security and governance. Reformasi, however, facilitated the segregation of the military from civilian government, a process that is often colloquially referred to as “going back to the barracks”.

However, developments in recent years suggest that the military is returning to political centre stage.

TNI’s Growing Prominence: From Jokowi to Prabowo

Prabowo’s military background and connection profoundly define his identity as a political actor. It plays a big role in how Prabowo’s administration is using his military background to strengthen TNI’s role in Indonesia’s political and social landscapes. Following former president Joko “Jokowi” Widodo’s co-optation of Prabowo as defence minister in 2019, this became even clearer.

During Jokowi’s adminis

Concurrently, Kepolisian Negara Republik Indonesia (Polri) emerged as the main security entity, capitalising on robust political affiliations. During this period, Polri frequently aligned itself with political figures and entities, at times becoming embroiled in political disputes to suppress opposition or dissent.

For instance, even after leaving office, Jokowi allegedly instructed Polri’s inspe

This arrangement is shifting under Prabowo’s leadership. TNI appears to have a more prominent role in certain areas, including food security and regional elections.

The establishment of agricultural battalions exemplifies this, with 100 new military units being formed to manage national food security initiatives.

This activity, which was spearheaded by Prabowo during his tenure as Minister of Defence, assigns the military with the responsibility to develop agricultural initiatives, such as the food estate scheme in Central Kalimantan that became contentious.

Regardless, this indicates a considerable expansion of TNI’s role in the areas of economics and development.

Another example is TNI’s participation in the logistics of the recent regional head elections. All three of TNI’s forces deployed their personnel and assets – such as aircraft carriers, helicopters and warships – to distribute election materials like ballots and boxes.

The initiative to integrate troops into regional government activities demonstrates the growing relationship between military forces and civilian governance. These measures indicate TNI’s expanded role in state-building efforts, wherein the armed forces participate in the nation’s economic and political processes while simultaneously safeguarding the state.

Public Perception: Indifference, Confidence or Acceptance?

A significant part of TNI’s seeming resurgence is the lack of considerable popular opposition. In contrast to the events during reformasi, where the people united to oust Suharto and consequently pushed the military away from the political scene, the present shift appears to have largely escaped significant examination or scrutiny.

Despite some instances of dissent, the general populace seems largely indifferent or, in certain instances, are endorsing the military’s expanding influence.

A variety of factors contribute to this societal attitude. Firstly, Indonesia’s historical backdrop influences the people’s perception of TNI, often laced with a romanticised sense of respect and yearning for them to be put in charge.

In contrast, the police have not played a significant role in the national heroic narratives and are oftentimes embroiled in cases of corruption or power abuse. Clashes between the police and the public are also quite frequent.

A portion of the population, including those residing in the regions, continue to view TNI as a crucial, stabilising ent

Secondly, Prabowo’s portrayal of himself as a decisive a

Unlike Jokowi’s bureaucratic and technocratic approach, Prabowo projects a straightforward, assertive yet populist image, appealing to a population that heretofore felt disconnected from the political process. His approach resonates with those who see him as a leader, someone who acknowledges their challenges and is actively addressing them.

However, it would be erroneous to think that the people’s lack of rejection towards TNI’s return indicates a complete endorsement of the military’s expanding authority.

Some quarters of the population might not grasp the direct and indirect consequences of TNI’s increasing presence. Besides, they may also consider it as an unavo

Regardless, the absence of strong public debate and critical discourse surrounding these developments is concerning, indicating that the nation is slowly becoming desensitised to the military’s participation in governance.

A New Dwifungsi?

This shift necessitates a review of the status of democracy in Indonesia. Local NGOs and international human rights organisations alike have consistently warned of the danger of diminishing democratic space in the country.

To be fair, this shift does not directly signify a decline in democracy in Indonesia. Nonetheless, it indicates a transition to an era where coercive power may feature more prominently in day-to-day business, owing to the mili

The military’s growing presence in critical dimensions such as food security, regional politics and electoral processes indicates that it is ready to be involved in sectors outside its traditional mandate.

This blurring line between the military and civilian spaces is not necessarily a throwback to Suharto’s dwifungsi in the New Order era, but something that is uniquely Prabowo’s in nature. Besides, we are still only in the beginning of Prabowo’s administration – how this dynamic would change or develop in the future remains to be seen.

Some portents are suggestive of how this would unfurl, however. Firstly, Prabowo’s Red and White cabinet features the largest numbers of TNI and Polri retirees in the nation’s history. Secondly – and this is more symbolic than substantial – Prabowo sent almost all his cabinet members to a three-day boot camp at the military academy in Magelang after the inauguration, where they were draped in military garbs and taught discipline courses.

Unlike the New Order era, which explicitly integrated the military with civilian politics, Prabowo’s strategy thus far indicates a more nuanced approach, wherein TNI plays a crucial role in several pockets of government affairs.

All these suggest TNI’s relative progress back into the centre stage, blurring the line between military and civilian affairs.

Conclusion

This development requires considerable attention. The increasing military engagement in food security and regional elections also indicates the shrinking role of civilian authority in these areas. If this trend continues and expands to other domains, it might jeopardise fundamental democratic principles like accountability, checks and balances, and civilian oversight.

The public’s indifference – or implicit endorsement – of this shift intensifies the problem. As indicated above, a number of Indonesians view the military as a stabilising force. Yet, further studies should be conducted to investigate what this means to their perception of democracy in Indonesia. The nation finds itself at a pivotal moment, necessitating careful examination by both the populace and the global community regarding the possible lasting effects of TNI leaving the barracks. Without careful vigilance, Indonesia could veer toward a path that undermines its democratic ideals, all under the guise of stability and security.

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

Introduction

Indonesia’s Pemilihan Kepala Daerah Serentak 2024 (2024 Simultaneous Regional Head Elections – Pilkada) was meant to be a demonstration of Indonesia’s decentralization and commitment to classic democratic values.

Pilkada was indeed touted as the crown jewel of the post-1998 reformation era, especially with regard to local governance, a pluralistic hierarchy of leadership and the representation of the various interests of Indonesia’s sprawling archipelago.

Yet, this past Pilkada has exposed a worrying decline of democratic norms. What was meant to be an instrument for the people to exercise their political rights ended up being an avenue for power accumulation, dynastic clientelism and oligarchic hegemony.

Power Accumulation

To demonstrate this, let us turn our attention to President Prabowo Subianto’s oversized coalition Koalisi Indonesia Maju (the Onward Indonesia Coalition – KIM).

KIM was formed during the 2024 presidential election from political parties supporting Prabowo’s bid to run for the presidential office. The coalition consists of Gerakan Indonesia Raya (Gerindra), Partai Amanat Nasional, Golongan Karya, Partai Demokrat and other parties that did not make it to the House of Representatives.

KIM further inflated and became KIM Plus when several more parties – including Partai Nasional Demokrat, Partai Kebangkitan Bangsa, Partai Keadilan Sejahtera

Such an oversized coalition underscores ambition to implement political hegemony across Indonesia.

KIM Plus has a wider support base, politicizing local elections into nothing more than extensions of national politics. This centralization of power has rendered Indonesia’s political landscape more homogenized and centralized, thereby undermining the independence and plurality of local governing institutions.

Furthermore, it also threatens the diversity and creativity that have long been the hallmarks of Indonesia’s democratic and decentralized framework, as it marginalizes local voices and stifles innovation in governance.

In this year’s Pilkada, KIM Plus candidates won in 60% of

Allegations of active interference – “cawe-cawe” in former president Joko “Jokowi” Widodo’s parlance – began circulating in the days leading up to the elections. Reports collected until October 2024 show that gubernatorial candidates Ridwan Kamil-Suswono (Jakarta), Andra Soni-Dimyati (Banten) and Ahmad Luthfi-Taj Yasin (Central Java) were explicitly endorsed by both Jokowi and Prabowo.

A letter signed by Prabowo, for example, requesting Jakarta voters to support Ridwan Kamil, was published a few days before the election during masa tenang (cooling-off period), a time when campaigning is prohibited.

The move was later clarified by a Gerindra executive as a reasonable campaign strategy, despite major legal and ethical concerns involved. This is despite the Indonesian Election Law (UU No. 10/2016) prohibiting government personnel from campaigning while in office unless on official leave.

Such action, thus, blurs the lines between Prabowo the president and Prabowo the political actor. It violates the concept of neutrality and opens the door for further tampering in future elections.

The General Election Supervisory Agency (Badan Pengawas Pemilu – Bawaslu) has rejected claims of tampering due to a “lack of evidence”. Unfortunately, however, Bawaslu’s inaction has stoked popular mistrust.

Critics contend that Bawaslu’s position could result from political pressure, a lack of institutional autonomy or even an effort to keep appearances of stability against mounting public mistrust. This begs the question about the susceptibility of ostensibly objective bodies to outside influence, especially in a political environment progressively controlled by centralized power.

What made the process even less credible was the deep involvement of Jokowi in Pilkada. Though he is out of the office, Jokowi reportedly encouraged Prabowo to endorse candidates linked to his political dynasty, such as Luthfi-Yasin in Central Java.

The strategic alignment between Jokowi and Prabowo represents an alarming consolidation of power in the hands of Jakarta’s political elites, forming a political system that favors their interests and disregards the needs and aspirations of the regions.

Moreover, this dynamic undermines power decentralization that has allowed diverse regions to determine their development path, cr

The backstep to centralistic governance is particularly harmful to Indonesia’s democracy, given its experience with decentralization in post-reformasi era and given the country’s vast diversity.

Indonesia is a pluralistic country with differences in geography, culture, economy and regional needs. This diversity helps democracy thrive, fostering a marketplace of ideas and competition, as well as ensuring that policies are tailored to the needs of local communities. Moreover, regional autonomy has allowed local leaders to create solutions tailored to their goals.

Such a political space could potentially diminish after this Pilkada, as its results (i.e. KIM Plus’ victory in 60% of areas contested) could pave the way for a forced uniformity for the regions. The regions’ unique aspirations may be drowned out by the political interests of the Jakarta elites, who may seek to profit from their power accumulation or win future political contestations.

Tampering

Another popular narrative in this Pilkada is the misuse of government funds, colloquially known as politik gentong babi (pork-barrel politics).

It has been demonstrated that local leaders were mobilized to win votes for the contestants, such as what happened in Central Java. For instance, 90 village heads were gathered in a fancy hotel in Semarang, where they were reportedly lobbied to support certain candidates for the gubernatorial election.

Moreover, the Village Fund has been “weaponized” to compel village heads to obtain votes for certain candidates in exchange for its continued flow of funds, such as what happened in South Halmahera.

This is why oversized, concentrated powers such as KIM Plus could undermine democracy, as such coalitions coul

Social assistance programs were exploited too. In North Sumatra, where Jokowi’s son-in-law Bobby Nasution ran for governor (and won), some alleged politicization of social assistance that help him win. Similarly, in Surakarta, the KIM-supported Respati Ardi-Astrid Widayani pair allegedly distributed basic food aid during the pre-election lull.

Although Bawaslu has declared that no violation was committed in these instances, the indication of the candidates’ blatant exploitation of the social welfare programs cannot be ignored. By weaponizing public resources for political campaigns, the political elites have reduced Pilkada to contests for wealth and power, rather than a legitimate avenue for the region’s self-determination process.

Dynasties in the Region and Jakarta’s Exceptionalism

To make matters worse, dynasty politics has further entrenched oligarchic networks in Indonesia’s democracy. In this year’s Pilkada, more than 605 candidates were linked to political dynasties, double the figures from the previous two Pilkada cycles.

Those involved in dynasty politics today are local franchisees of national coalitions that exchange loyalty for access to power. This trend, as well as the acceptance of Jaka

Yet, the outcome in Jakarta presents an entirely different dynamic. The Pramono Anung-Rano Karno pair, who were backed by Partai Demokrasi Indonesia Perjuangan, managed to clinch a win against KIM Plus’ candidates Ridwan Kamil-Suswono.

Their successful campaign cleverly leaned on Rano’s cultural resonance as well as alliances with former governors Anies Baswedan and Basuki Tjahaja Purnama, which helped bridge ideological divides.

Still, Jakarta’s exceptionalism only highlights a basic truth: That Pilkada has lost its identity as a platform for grassroots politics and become an opportunity for a power grab by Jakarta’s elites.

The similarities between this year’s Pilkada and the last two presidential elections are concerning. Both relied on the misappropriation of public resources (some cases are still alleged), intervention by the sitting president and mobilization of institutions to deliver the desired political outcome.

Such strategies undermine public confidence in democratic institutions and are reminiscent of the New Order’s heavy-handed measures to maintain power. Despite the post-reformasi aspiration for democracy, Indonesia’s state today has increasingly become homogenous and centralized, while authoritarian practices are becoming more common. The absence of a pluralist system that respects differences and regional autonomy diminishes dissenting voices and alternative ideas.

Conclusion

The results of the 2024 Pilkada are nowhere near rosy for Indonesia’s democracy. With KIM Plus-backed candidates winning in 60% of the contested area, a centralized form of governance appears to be coming back to Indonesia’s political setting.

Once a trademark of the reformasi era, Pilkada has now become an avenue for political elites to consolidate their power, as the governance practices become more homogenous and centralized, thus marginalizing innovation and regional needs.

The developments surrounding Pilkada have thus threatened Indonesia’s democra

Introduction

Indonesia’s Foreign Minister Sugiono declared Indonesia’s interest in becoming a member of the Brazil, Russia, India, China and South Africa (BRICS) grouping. According to him, this is an exercise of Indonesia’s bebas aktif (independent and active) foreign policy approach.

Many view this move as an opportunity for economic growth and diversification. However, a closer look raises a crucial question: Are the potential benefits worth the risks?

There are significant opportunities and risks. Beyond the promise of wider market access, Indonesia’s alignment with BRICS could strain its relationships with key Western partners and even limit economic opportunities with traditional allies.

To maximize national interest, the government must carefully weigh whether a BRICS membership genuinely advances Indonesia’s economic goals or risks isolating it from existing engagements with Western economies.

Economic Opportunities

President Prabowo sees BRICS as a path to expand Indonesia’s economic alliances, offering new markets, investment sources and more autonomy from traditional Western partners. BRICS countries make up around 30% of the global economy and represent 43% of the world’s population, driven mainly by China and India.

This substantial market size and consumer base underline the organization’s potential influence as a global economic force. In 2022, BRICS countries contributed US$9.25 billion in FDI to Indonesia, or 21.2% of its total. Given its existing economic relations with these countries, Indonesia’s participation may bolster its export-orientated economy by diminishing tariffs and other non-tariff barriers.

Prabowo is also advocating for Indonesia to embrace the BRICS bilateral currency exchange initiatives to strengthen trade amidst global financial volatility and lessen its reliance on the US dollar.

Moreover, reducing reliance on Western economies appears aligned with Prabowo’s nationalistic stance. Indonesia is seeking increased independence and resilience in the face of global economic instability. Given its strong connections to Western markets, diversifying Indonesia’s economic portfolio is a necessity, which can be done by engaging BRICS countries.

To illustrate this, the United States is Indonesia’s second largest export destination, with US$23.28 billion in commerce in 2023. Therefore, a BRICS membership has the potential of diverting Indonesia’s strong economic relationship with the West, provided strong economic activities between Indonesia and BRICS countries can be fostered.

Indonesia’s natural resource wealth can be an attractive point for other BRICS members. In 2023, Indonesia was the world’s largest palm oil exporter, producing 47 million metric tonnes of crude palm oil, thereby meeting 54% of the global demand and generating US$23.97 billion in revenue. In addition, Indonesia is the fifth largest coal producer and possesses substantial nickel as well as other mineral reserves that are essential for modern technologies. These make Indonesia an attractive potential member in the perspective of BRICS countries.

Joining BRICS would afford Indonesia greater opportunities to increase exports and maximize profit from investment projects in its natural resources. As per the government’s data, Indonesia’s export value stood at US$258.82 billion in 2023, a figure that might further expand if Indonesia could tap the potential of the BRICS markets.

While Indonesia can benefit from its resource industry, there is also a strategic imperative to reduce overdependence on it. A membership in BRICS could help Indonesia attract foreign investment into non-resource sectors, thus creating a more balanced and resilient economy.

Unlike historical exploitative practices by Western countries or even China itself, which have often involved one-sided agreements that benefit foreign powers at the expense of local economies, Indonesia must negotiate terms that protect its economic interests. The varied economic interests of BRICS members can create opportunities for Indonesia to negotiate deals that are mutually beneficial rather than exploitative.

Besides, BRICS consists of a diverse group of countries that have different economic systems, political ideologies and development strategies. Many BRICS nations, including Br

Economy vs. Autonomy

While BRICS offers promising economic opportunities, Prabowo’s administration is tasked with managing the potential complexities of such an accession. China and Russia have enhanced their geopolitical influence through economic alliances. Given its non-alignment policy, Indonesia must remain vigilant to prevent the erosion of its sovereignty that might transpire from its closer en

In other words, Jakarta should carefully manage its economic relationships within BRICS to maintain policy independence and avoid overreliance on a single partner.

The decision to accede to BRICS suggests a willingness to participate in a “revisionist” group. BRICS countries, such as China and Russia, are known for their efforts to reorganize international norms and institutions to reflect a multipolar power structure. They also seek to challenge the Western-established global order.

Prabowo considers that Indonesia is capable of placing itself on the world map in a multipolar setting; however, the journey is accompanied by a lot of risks.

Indonesia has not taken any sides in international conflicts, but being part of the BRICS block can change this scenario. The aspirations of the BRICS countries to create a third or even a fourth currency system may lead to a head-on collision with Western countries. Such a position from the bloc, which openly seeks to revise the global order and financial system designed by the West, poses a danger to Indonesia’s ties with other Western countries.

The threat is not only limited to the Western links. For quite some time, Indonesia was able to make inroads in Southeast Asia owing to its policy neutrality. This has enabled Indonesia to take on the leadership roles of the Non-Aligned Movement (NAM) as well as ASEAN. By virtue of ASEAN’s non-alignment, Indonesia is able to exercise strategic independence and manage relations with the Western and BRICS countries in a balanced manner.

However, a BRICS membership may also raise questions among other ASEAN Member States (AMS). It may signal that Indonesia seeks to diversify its attention away from ASEAN, which ironically may weaken ASEAN’s unity, cohesion and capacity to assert its centrality vis-à-vis global affairs.

While BRICS promotes trade cooperation, Indonesia may face challenges from member countries, particularly China, as they would also seek to compete with Indonesia’s domestic market.

This is evidenced by recent events. The large volume of Chinese imports into Indonesia has had a negative impact on both the Indonesian manufacturing and textile industries. Many local companies have been put out of business because of the adverse effects of Chinese products, which are too cheap to compete against.

It is still possible for Indonesia to see more imports from BRICS, though this would entail creating more uncertainty within its domestic market. Therefore, it is essential for Indonesia to promote the establishment of equitable trade norms within BRICS to ensure fair competition and avert dumping practices, or the sale of commodities at excessively low prices.

Indonesia’s most recent experiences with Chinese investment are noteworthy. Under President Joko “Jokowi” Widodo, Indonesia’s economic initiatives were significantly influenced by Chinese investments, particularly in the downstream processing of nickel.

There has been criticism that 41% of Chinese investment goes to metal processing companies that are environmentally harmful. In addition, many Chinese-operated nickel smelters in Indonesia have fre

These examples demonstrate the urgency to implement stringent regulatory criteria when engaging BRICS countries to guarantee that foreign investments contribute rather than incurring losses to Indonesia’s economy and environment.

Prabowo’s administration must assess the symbolic and substantive value of BRICS. Indonesia’s accession to BRICS may turn out to be theatrics without sound strategies and policy measures. Besides, membership in one more international economic association does not, as practice shows, automatically accord economic benefit. Additionally, its membership in BRICS may be nominal, as it could be unproductive participation that only drains effort and resources when the domestic economies are weak.

Instead, the new administration needs to address the weak points of Indonesia’s economy and enact policies that could protect it from unfair trade as well as investment practices.

Balancing Ambitions

The government’s plan to join BRICS must incorporate a strategy that focuses on bolstering the Indonesian economy, the independence of its diplomacy and its regional power. Indonesia needs to be able to continue exercising its non-alignment policy but wrest the economic opportunity offered by BRICS. Furthermore, Indonesia must intensify its engagement with AMS, pursuing policies and projects that prioritize intra-ASEAN cooperation to stave off any potential undue influence emanating from BRICS countries.

Moreover, Indonesia must stay true to its strategy of putting its eggs in multiple baskets. Indonesia can seek to enhance its trade agreements not just with BRICS but also with key partners like Japan, South Korea and Australia. For instance, Indonesia could negotiate a multitiered trade agreement that allows for preferential tar

Conclusion

The strategic entry of Indonesia into BRICS is a complex decision that will put Prabowo’s ability to reconcile economic ambition and Indonesia’s professed non-alignment position to the test.

By joining BRICS, Indonesia can enhance its exports, attract international investment and reduce its reliance on the US dollar. This progress, however, is dependent on Jakarta’s ability to contain the potential vulnerabilities that might come from the engagement, especially the political and economic challenges arising from an enhanced partnership with China and Russia.

Acceding to BRICS may boost Indonesia’s economic potential and its standing in the multipolar world order. However, such a step comes with its own challenges. Indonesia’s priority is to ensure that its domestic economy and environment will not be undermined by economic engagement with BRICS countries. Active and measured diplomacy must also be exercised. Indonesia must retain its non-aligned posture and anticipate shifts in global politics.

The bottom line is, Indonesia’s accession to BRICS must not come at the cost of giving up parts of its sovereignty and national interest.

Introduction

Since the Xi Jinping presidency started, China has undertaken major domestic monetary and fiscal reforms to maintain China’s centrality to the region’s economy. The Middle Kingdom may have faced an economic downturn lately, but its government has taken proactive steps to ameliorate the situation.

The latest pronouncements by the Chinese government regarding its economy are meant to strategica

China’s Economic Reform and Regional Opportunities

The 26 September 2024 session of the Political Bureau of the Communist Party of China Central Committee stressed the importance of such executive measures as cutting the reserve requirement ratio (RRR) and altering the mortgage rate. The Bureau deemed these necessary to stimula

Such policy shifts are a realistic response to the regional context, opening opportunities for Southeast Asian countries such as Indonesia to deepen their engagement with China’s economy and seek out cooperative benefits.

The announcement that China will inject approximately 1 trillion yuan into the financial market and reduce the reserve requirement ratio by 0.5% underlines China’s intention to enhance liquidity and promote growth in the economy.

In a way, such measures aimed to reinforce the soundness of China’s financial markets and reassure its regional allies that Beijing remains committed to stabilize its economy irrespective of external and internal hea

The effect of the policy was immediate and broad, as seen by the Shanghai Composite Index increasing by 4.59%, the Shenzhen Component Index increasing by 9.17% and the technology-biased ChiNext surging 17.25% after the National Day holiday reopening.

Joint trading volumes reached new heights, totaling 3.45 trillion yuan on the Shanghai and Shenzhen exchanges, surpassing the former high of 2.6 trillion yuan. This demonstrates the effectiveness of China’s regulatory reforms to restore investor confidence and increase economic activities.

Many in China must feel optimistic about the Chinese real estate market and for good reason. Beijing’s attempts to solve problems within the sector, which constitutes an essential part of China’s economy, include cutting the opening down payment for new residential mortgages from 25% to 15%.

These mortgages, which are expected to relieve loan burdens to around 50 million households and bring older mortgage rates up to the current standard, are predicted to save the country large amounts of resources, approximately 150 billion yuan annually. The significance of such crucial measures is also to help reverse the continuing decline of the real estate market within China.

By bringing back the property market, it has been reported that the primary goal the Beijing government seeks to achieve is enhancing the domestic economy. Most significantly, it creates the conditions for more effective regional economic integration since a strong economy in China is a powerful engine of growth for co-development with others in the region.

Complex Interdependence

Southeast Asia stands to gain considerably if China undergoes an economic revival. The revival of the A-share market has seen an increase in demand from foreign investors, which is likely to result in many investments in the Southeast Asian markets.

This is especially pertinent for countries like Indonesia, which has received Chinese FDI in the development of critical infrastructure. For instance, China’s intent to improve regional connectivity – which was demonstrated with projects like the China-Laos Railway – offers prospects for other investments that would enhance Indonesia’s trade and integration in the region.

China’s development of the town of Mohan – an important border site is situated in Yunnan province (a vital connecting point between China and Southeast Asia), underscores China’s pledge to promote regional economic development and joint progress. This development aptly exemplifies China’s openness to enhance economic relations with the rest of Southeast Asia.

Moreover, with its dominating position in the foreign trade, China has also emerged as an integral component in the regional economic system. The total volume of the foreign goods trade reached US$5.88 trillion in 2023, which means it accounted for 12.4% of the total global trade.

China has managed to retain its position as the most dominant trading nation in the world for the seventh year in a row and this only goes to reinforce its standing in terms of regional trade. Furthermore, with a service trade volume of US$933.1 billion, Southeast Asian countries have the capacity to gain economic benefits by engaging in a deeper trade relationship with China.

These figures show that there is still a need for countries such as Indonesia to engage themselves passively with China’s developmental strategies, such as the Belt and Road Initiative (BRI), which has the potential to increase trade volumes and create new markets.

The increasing economic ties of China with Southeast Asia may be understood in the context of the complex interdependence theory, which states that as states become more interlinked economically, socially and politically, the probability of conflict decreases

This model helps us comprehend why it may be in the interest of some Southeast Asian countries like Indonesia to become more integrated with the Chinese economic model, which would, in return, enable the creation of a more constructive and harmonious regional context. By implementing an interdependence model, regional economies can avert risks of instability and promote joint growth, which ensures that all parties benefit.

Challenges

Nonetheless, developing more active economic engagement with China is not without problems. Greater economic engagement means that any policy shift or economic activities derived from China will have implications across the region.

For Indonesia, which is a major recipient of Chinese investment in key sectors such as infrastructure, manufacturing and real estate, this dependency poses hazards as variations in Chinese investments tend to import volatility to the local market and economies.

China has taken steps such as issuing extremely long-period treasury bonds as well as special local government bonds to help stabilize shocks to its financial and real estate markets. These measures indicate that China understands that its activities affect the economy of the region; Southeast Asian countries can rest assured that China is mindful of its potential pitfalls.

However, while the increased flow of Chinese capital into Southeast Asia is critical for meeting the financial needs of development projects, it can also imbalance the markets and stifle efforts to improve local capacity.

Therefore, Indonesian authorities are required to manage foreign investments, including foreign capital coming from China, to ensure that these investments are aimed at achieving sustainable development goals that will benefit its domestic economy.

Recent crises such as the crash in Indonesia’s textile industry – due to massive capital inflow and import of textile products from China – exemplify this concern. Such cases further underscore the need for Indonesia to erect some rules and regulations that could shield local industries.

Constructing a legal regime that encourages cooperative ventures and technological transfer would allow Indonesia’s enterprises to utilize Chinese capital in a more efficient manner, resulting in development without surrendering control of essential sectors and assets.

Strategic options for ASEAN and Indonesia

To deal with the economic resurrection of China, Indonesia and its ASEAN peers should take a more aggressive stance, allowing for deepened economic cooperation while diversifying their economic relations.

With shifts from primary commodity export reliance to developing core sectors such as manufacturing, technology and services, Indonesia could skillfully integrate itself within regional supply chains with China at the center.

For instance, rather than chiefly importing finished goods, Indonesia could aid in China’s production networks by establishing its own electronics and automotive components industries. Predominantly, this strategy would assist Indonesia’s economy by retaining more foreign earnings but majoring in the core activities of such industries.

However, to avoid being “swamped” by imported goods, Indonesia does require a framework of policies to aid domestic industries, especially in their formative stages including trade standards and promotion of sectors where it has a comparative advantage. Such strategy could attract more foreign investment into Indonesia and improve the country’s economic position. 

Central to this strategy is financial regulation and financial stability. Indonesian policymakers must concentrate on building sound financial institutions and laws that will adequately absorb the sudden influx of Chinese capital while reducing risks associated with volatile capital inflows.

Reinforcing its financial control and risk management policies will allow Indonesia to withstand almost any impact even after internal changes in Chinese policies.

There is a great need for ASEAN to pursue better economic integration with China. When bargaining with Beijing, especially in regards to the BRI, ASEAN ought to seek to remain true to the ASEAN centrality and encourage a more even distribution of Chinese investments around the ASEAN countries.

However, such commonality of purpose is not easy due to the very diverse political and economic structures within ASEAN. For example, Malaysia’s engagement with the BRI projects has demonstrated the extent to which such investment can be politicized which hampers ASEAN’s effort to voice out as a single entity.

To ensure ASEAN centrality vis-à-vis these complexities, the bloc could seek to focus on developing broad parameters, which would enable them to promote common interests within the region. This would guarantee a united regional position on engagement with China while ensuring that individual member countries are allowed the leeway to pursue bilateral deals that suit thei

ASEAN Member States can leverage regional projects that foster infrastructure development, technological advancement and agricultural growth in a manner that is sustainable for the region. Such a position would enable these countries to engage China in a manner that is beneficial to them, alleviating excessive dependency on Chinese capital and promoting a coherent as well as cohesive regional economy in the process.

Conclusion

To sum up, as a result of recent changes in the strategies of the Chinese authorities, Southeast Asia and Indonesia have been presented with a new opportunity to enhance their economic relations with China while fostering their own economic advancement.

The region’s response should be neither too cautious nor too aggressive in order to augment its integration with China while improving its strategic stance. Since China’s economy is now poised to expand steadily, there is an opportunity for ASEAN to establish itself as a regional bulwark that focuses on regional economic progress and stability.

Introduction

President Joko “Jokowi” Widodo’s choice to forgo the 44^th ASEAN Summit – which took place in Vientiane, Laos, on 9 October 2024 – constitutes a strategic miscalculation that might deeply affect Indonesia’s regional stature and foreign policy aims.

As the largest member and de facto leader of ASEAN, Indonesia’s participation in the high-level event is crucial for steering the bloc’s direction, fostering unity and addressing common concerns among all members.

At a critical moment requiring Jakarta’s leadership, Jokowi unintentionally undermined Indonesia’s dedication to ASEAN by attributing his absence to domestic transitional factors.

Indonesia, ASEAN’s (Supposedly) De Facto Lead

The constructivist theory posits that state behavior is shaped by both their material capabilities as well as the values and norms they aspire to project and embody.

Indonesia’s sustained role as the de facto leader of ASEAN is predicated on its active engagement, influence and commitment to the collective norms and ideals of the region. This is because norms and ideas about leadership are established via ongoing actions and interactions.

This is also evidenced through the pivotal role Indonesia has played under Jokowi’s administration, influencing the overall trajectory o

These contributions profoundly influence ASEAN’s identity and strategic stance in recent times.

Furthermore, the constructivist perspective also posits that ongoing interactions and sustained engagement in diplomatic contexts influence the comprehension of leadership. For example, Jokowi’s participation in past summits enhanced Indonesia’s standing and e

The prevailing view of Indonesia as a reliable leader and guardian of ASEAN principles is thus threatened by Jokowi’s choice to abstain from the Summit. The

In light of Jokowi’s absence, Vietnamese Prime Minister Pham Minh Chinh conveyed his hope for Indonesia’s ongoing contribution to ASEAN’s development under the new administration’s leadership.

Even Prime Minister Sonexay Siphandone of Laos commended Indonesia for its historical achievements and recognized that Jokowi’s attendance would have bolstered the bloc’s cohesion in tackling regional concerns.

Such sentiments represent the heightened expectations of Indonesia’s ASEAN allies, rendering Jokowi’s absence even more significant.

Jokowi is also a prominent leader who has established contacts within the bloc—his absence has thus deprived Indonesia of an opportunity to reaffirm its leadership role and presence in the region.

This absence could potentially create a leadership gap, opening the door for other parties with differing or competing interests to assert themselves and shape the regional agenda in ways that might not align with Indonesia’s strategic goals.

While Vice President Ma’ruf Amin’s participation guaranteed Indonesia’s representation, the nation’s diplomatic stature was not on a level with that of other countries. Due to Ma’ruf’s insufficient expertise in international diplomacy, he was unable to effectively convey Indonesia’s influence and engage in critical discussions.

This is not the first time Jokowi has skipped international events. Foreign Minister Retno Marsudi has consistently championed Indonesia’s interests internationally, often compensating for the president when Jokowi prioritized domestic and political interests.

In the absence of the head of state’s direct involvement, even the most adept diplomat can achieve only marginal success in their diplomatic efforts. Indonesia’s foreign policy necessitates more than a mere assortment of activities; it demands sustained high-level engagement to ensure legitimacy and efficacy.

The Reason

The Foreign Ministry press briefing stated that Jokowi’s absence is due to his involvement in the power transition process, as Prabowo Subianto is slated to take over the presidency post later this month. However, this inadequately justified the choice to forgo such a significant gathering.

With more than a week remaining before Prabowo’s inau

Jokowi’s decision to stay back thus eclipsed the objectives of his administration, leading many to question whether ASEAN was genuinely a priority for Jakarta during his tenure.

What This Means to ASEAN

The current situation in ASEAN renders this omission particularly noteworthy and troubling. The region is presently confronting multiple intricate challenges, such as the escalating rivalry between the United States and China, the humanitarian crisis in Myanmar, and repercussions from major conflicts in several parts of the world.

The leadership of Indonesia is crucial for guidin

The constructivist thesis also argues that Indonesia’s leadership role in ASEAN is dependent on both power dynamics and the norms and expectations of other nations regarding Jakarta. The normative authority of Indonesia is undermined if it fails to fulfil these expectations, thus obstructing the nation’s capacity to lead by consensus and secure backing for its initiatives.

Jokowi’s choice may inadvertently prompt other regional leaders to scrutinize Indonesia’s dedication to the collective ideals and principles of ASEAN, unbeknownst to him. Given that Indonesia – the conventional linchpin of ASEAN – may forgo participation in such a significant assembly, it is perplexing why other nations would feel obligated to attend every conference.

Worse, it might send the wrong signal that ASEAN high-level meetings are no longer worthy of its leaders’ time and effort, a significant blow to the multilateral process in Southeast Asia.

Moreover, it might trigger a broader concern with Indonesia’s foreign policy. Despite the administration’s focus on pragmatic diplomacy and economic development, it often lacks constructive engagement in regional and global issues.

For example, critics pointed out Indonesia’s lack of gusto in asserting pressure to stop violence in Myanmar, even as the country chaired ASEAN last year. This reflective viewpoint has strengthened the suspicion that Indonesia may have diverged from its conventional leadership role in the region, though deeper investigation is necessary.

Although Jokowi’s decision may yield short-term benefits to his political agenda, it undermines the nation’s global influence and reputation. This disengagement may have enduring consequences for the strategic significance of a nation seeking to establish itself as a middle power in Southeast Asia and the Indo-Pacific while expanding its economic influence in Latin America and the Caribbean.

Conclusion and Ways Forward

Indonesia’s involvement in ASEAN Summits and other regional fora should be regarded as essential platforms for the nation to assert its influence on the future trajectory of regional developments.

Jokowi’s absence jeopardizes Indonesia’s regional standing and somewhat weakens ASEAN’s unity in navigating a challenging geopolitical landscape, constituting a diplomatic misstep and a strategic error.

This is unfortunate considering Indonesia is gaining significance amid the intricate dynamics of the region, characterized by competition among major countries and domestic political instability.

The Indonesian authorities must acknowledge the imperative for a more assertive and engaged foreign policy to uphold ASEAN’s centrality as well as to ensure Jakarta’s prominence in re

Only through unwavering engagement can Indonesia sustain its role as the cornerstone of ASEAN and a significant contributor to Southeast Asia’s growth.

With the transition to a new administration under Prabowo, Indonesia has a substantial chance to realign its foreign policy and restore its leadership role within ASEAN. Prabowo clearly comprehends the importance of regional and international ties, as evidenced by his broad diplomatic initiatives following his decisive political triumph.

Prabowo must prioritize fortifying Indonesia’s standing within ASEAN, championing initiatives to up