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

Introduction

Indonesia’s recently concluded regional head elections revealed a significant yet underexplored phenomenon: The participation of reformed terrorists, often dubbed as “credible voices”, in the democratic process.

For individuals who once opposed Pancasila and democracy, this marks a profound shift. It also carries far-reaching implications for Indonesia’s democratic consolidation and deradicalisation efforts.

Based on an exclusive interview with reformed terrorists, this piece highlights their participation in the elections, evolving views on Pancasila, aspirations for a democratic system and perspectives on political Islam, highlighting the challenges as well as opportunities of their sociopolitical integration.

Evolving Views

Radical and terrorist groups in Indonesia, such as Jemaah Islamiyah (JI) and Jamaah Ansharut Daulah (JAD), have long condemned democracy and Pancasila as un-Islamic, advocating instead for a sharia-guided Islamic caliphate as an alternative.

These groups view democracy as a concept imposed by Islam’s enemies – the West – and perceive Pancasila as incompatible with their interpretation of Islam, owing to its pluralistic and inclusive principles.

Figures like Aman Abdurrahman, an Indonesian Daesh ideologue, have labelled the Indonesian government as kufr (infidel) and thagut (tyrannical), labelling Muslims who support democracy or Pancasila as equally guilty of kufr. This opposition often leads to violence, particularly during elections, as exemplified by the arrest of suspected terrorists months before last year’s presidential election.

For some, however, this rejection of democracy and Pancasila has begun to shift. Reformed terrorists, through deradicalisation programmes in prison and community engagement, have transitioned from staunch opposition to active participation in democratic processes.

This is consistent with Walter Lippmann’s pseudo-environment concept, which shows how people act based on narratives and cultural influences, not reality. These radical individuals have stopped opposing democracy once they are placed in a community that challenged their previous beliefs with alternative narratives, ones that promote democratic values and moderate Islamic teachings.

After their release from prison, reformed terrorists now view democratic participation not as a betrayal of their faith but as a way to contribute positively to society. The discussion below provides some examples.

Examples from West Java

According to the National Counterterrorism Agency, as of April 2024, Indonesia is home to 2,059 reformed terrorists, approximately 43% of whom have either been conditionally released or pledged allegiance to the state (abandoned their radical views).

In the lead-up to the 2024 regional elections, several political candidates sought their support, recognising their symbolic and strategic influence.

Munir Kartono, a reformed terrorist and credible voice from West Java, shared that a regent (bupati) candidate approached him during the campaign, seeking to leverage his influence within a community that includes nearly 50 reformed terrorists. While Munir declined to endorse a specific candidate, he actively promoted peaceful and successful elections.

Once influenced by Daesh-JAD narratives, Munir’s perspective shifted thanks to the deradicalisation programmes he participated in. These programmes introduced him to alternative narratives and facilitated intensive engagements with figures such as academics and religious leaders, broadening his understanding of Pancasila and democracy.

Though previously an opponent of democracy, Munir is now part and parcel of the nation’s democratic process. He views events like regional elections as opportunities to contribute to the society. Munir now believes that democracy, as a concept, should not be conflated with its flawed implementation, asserting that if problems arise, the actions of individuals, not the concept itself, are to blame.

Even now, Munir acknowledges that while he has embraced Pancasila and democracy, he remains critical of contesting election candidates. He carefully evaluates their campaign promises and takes into consideration aspects such as their appearance, style and Islamic identity—although the latter is no longer a dominant factor in his decision-making process.

Perspective from East Java

Arif Budi Setyawan, a credible voice and former JI affiliate from East Java, has had the same experience.

Like Munir, he was approached by political candidates, including a regent candidate and someone running for the Regional People’s Representative Council. He was even invited to join a candidate’s campaign team – though he was later snubbed.

Arif explained that his initial rejection of Pancasila and democracy stemmed from his perception that these systems are corrupt and flawed. This is a demonstration of Lippmann’s stereotype concept, whereby people use their cognitive shortcuts (or simplified reasoning) to simplify complex realities into fixed ideas (or rigid assumptions).

In Arif’s mind, radical narratives previously reduced democracy into symbols of corruption and un-Islamic governance, reinforcing his opposition and discouraging participation in democratic processes.

However, deradicalisation programmes challenged and dismantled these stereotypes. Arif came to see democracy as distinct from its flawed practitioners, recognising it as a framework that, when aligned with Pancasila, could benefit both Muslims and the broader community. He believed that adhering to Pancasila helps Muslims achieve their goals and aspirations.

Arif views regional elections as equally critical as presidential elections due to their localised impact. He believes regional leaders’ work and promises can be more closely monitored, perceiving voting as an ikhtiar (effort) towards a better future for his religion.

“If the candidate doesn’t deliver, it’s not our fault—we’ve done our part. The rest is on them,” according to him.

Arif prioritises realistic campaign promises and proven track records when selecting candidates, rejecting superficial qualities or overly idealistic agendas. This reflects a significant departure from the radical stereotypes he once held, as he now evaluates candidates with a more nuanced understanding of democracy’s potential to drive meaningful change.

His emphasis on candidates’ knowledge, coupled with guidance from respected ulama, reflects his reformed approach to democratic participation, free from the oversimplifications that previously shaped his worldview.

Symbols and Associations

As the majority religion in Indonesia, Islam has significantly influenced the country’s politics since before independence in 1945. Consequently, the adoption of religious symbols and associations in campaigns continues to be a prominent feature of Indonesian politics, particularly during elections at both national and regional levels.

For instance, candidates who utilise religious symbols, such as female candidates wearing hijab, tend to receive more significant support from Muslim voters compared to those who do not.

Like Islam in politics, radical Islamist groups have also been a recurring presence throughout Indonesia’s sociopolitical history, from the Darul Islam movement in 1948 to the emergence of terrorist groups like JI in 1993 and JAD in 2015. The recent disbandment of JI in June 2024 raises the possibility that its members may become more active in formal political processes.

However, reformed terrorists like Munir and Arif view political Islam in Indonesia as far from ideal, both before and after their transformation. As shown above, they acknowledge the gap between the ideals of political Islam and its practical implementation in the country.

Munir, for instance, observes that political Islam in his regional community remains closely tied to identity, be it Islamist or not. Yet, he believes that individuals can embrace multiple identities rather than being confined to a singular one, suggesting that one can be both an Islamist and a nationalist simultaneously.

In the context of regional elections, Munir expressed that while he does not criticise voters who base their choices on religious preferences, he emphasises that these preferences must not lead to violence or manipulation of religious leaders (ulama and kyai) for political gain. Overall, he believes that Indonesian political Islam, in its current form, falls short of embodying true Islamic values and integrity, often fostering division instead of unity.

In addition, Arif similarly highlights religious leaders’ significant influence in regional politics, particularly in areas like East Java, where the Nahdliyin culture remains strong. He observes that politicians often leverage religious leaders and pesantren owners with large followings to shape voter preferences, highlighting their utilisation of religious symbols and associations.

The bottom line is that both Munir and Arif are concerned with the “exploitation” of religious figures as political tools. This sentiment reflects broader issues in Indonesia’s national and regional elections, where the interplay of faith and politics compromises the integrity of both.

Democratic Vision

Overall, despite their critiques, Munir and Arif emphasise the importance of political participation and the role of religious identity in shaping voters’ choices, especially in regional elections. Having once held radical views, they now stress the importance of democratic participation, such as in elections, while critically engaging with political Islam, reflecting their transformation as reformed individuals.

Both envision a future where Indonesia’s politics matures, realising its democratic ideals guided by the principles of Pancasila and a genuine commitment to public welfare. They hope for national and regional leaders who actively listen to public aspirations and work to curb money politics, recognising its corrosive impact on the very democracy they have painstakingly come to trust. In the end, the participation of reformed terrorists in Indonesia’s regional elections symbolises a broader ideological shift and a reconciliation between faith and democracy. It also indicates the success of deradicalisation programmes in Indonesia, offering hope for a more inclusive and resilient democratic future.

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

Introduction

The recently held regional head elections (Pemilihan Kepala Daerah – Pilkada) in Indonesia are generally different from presidential or legislative elections. While the latter two rely on massive campaigns, regional elections tend to rely on informal approaches to connect with voters.

The role of religious figures as informal leaders is thus important to discuss: They serve as a bridge between candidates and voters.   

As Pilkada candidates bank on their charisma and voters’ feelings, the position of informal leaders becomes even more important in shaping voters’ preference. At the same time, candidates need symbolic legitimation from local powers in order to boost their electability.

This eventually compels candidates to reach out to informal leaders for support and endorsement. In this regard, informal grassroots leaders serve as a nexus between parties/candidates and voters. It is this nexus that this article will focus on.

Ulamas, Village Heads and Thug Bosses as Brokers

At the grassroots level, informal leaders have played a significant role for centuries, retaining traditional authority and being venerated by the local population. They were heads of their respective polity before surrendering their authority to the national government after the independence proclamation in 1945. This process happened gradually.

These leaders may come from different backgrounds, such as ulama or religious leaders, village heads and preman (thug bosses), and they have been extensively discussed in existing literatures.

In some places, such as Bali, Papua, Maluku, Aceh and Madura, these informal leaders continue to exist and exercise a degree of influence. Although they have lost their formal political authority, they remain influential at the grassroots due to their alluring charisma.

In other words, these leaders still possess some degree of political capital. 

In such areas, ulamas have been widely respected by the local population for many generations. In some cases, such deference has been given since the pre-independence era. The more followers an ulama has, the more influence he possesses. It also helps if he owns a large piece of land, widely perceived as a source of wealth and informal power in Indonesia’s traditional context.

Ulamas also draw their legitimacy from vast religious knowledge and bewitching spiritual skills. The people confer great admiration towards these ulamas, which sometimes extends to their family members. Such is how power dynamics occur between informal leaders and the local population.

Some have described them as “strongmen” due to their significant influence over people. Meanwhile, others have proposed that they are local patrons, owing to their immense power to confer protection in exchange for tributes from people.

Compared to these two perspectives, perhaps it is better to frame these leaders as brokers instead. These two perspectives do not seem to fit in contemporary time, considering Indonesia implements a democratic system that technically only recognizes formal leaders, i.e., those elected by the people.

Therefore, by using the paradigm of brokers, the position of informal leaders remains intact in a democratic realm, including in the context of Pilkada.

Regardless, it is interesting to elaborate on the brokers’ roles and dynamics during the campaign period of Pilkada 2024. Some were part of Pilkada candidates’ tim sukses (national campaign team), influencing the process through other means or remaining non-partisan.

Today, ulamas continue to be highly regarded by both politicians and voters. Politicians consider ulamas as particularly powerful and actively seek their endorsement. On the other hand, voters dogmatically “bow” to ulamas, owing to the latter’s possession of religious knowledge. They also consider this a beneficial force in the government’s decision-making process, which can improve their welfare and wellbeing.

Active or Passive Actors?

As covered before in this series, Pilkada 2024 were held in 545 regions: 37 provinces, 415 districts and 93 cities. In this Pilkada, both candidates and voters still considered ulamas and their lineage as a source of local powers. More importantly, ulamas that claim to be descendants of Prophet Muhammad (a sayyid) or possess the “habib” title have an even more elevated influence.

Generally, ulamas have both active and passive roles in managing political preferences. As active actors, these ulamas often nominate their family members to run for positions in public offices. Such candidates often draw on their family’s gripping charisma to win support. For instance, Taj Yasin Maimoen, a Central Java vice gubernatorial candidate who won the election, is the son of KH. Maimoen Zubair, a famed ulama in the region.

Conversely, ulamas could be passive actors that use their patronage for political bargaining. This phenomenon is rather common within the current Indonesian local politics when candidates conduct silaturahim (forging communal bonds/paying a visit) to ulamas to win their endorsement. Tributes of various kinds, often monetary, might be offered to secure the ulamas’ support.

In some regions, particularly Java, an ulama’s endorsement could increase one’s electability. The ulamas’ pesantren (Islamic boarding schools) often receive courtesy calls from candidates during the campaign period. Although these ulamas’ power is not absolute, i.e. it does not guarantee a certain political outcome, at least their suggestions could still influence the people’s voting pattern.

Another common example is candidates’ recruitment of ulamas to be part of their tim sukses. This is applicable particularly to those with the combined oratory, persuasive and charismatic skills. In this past Pilkada, some ulamas were observed joining tim suksesto support certain candidates.

However, commitment can be a problem. There have been cases where informal actors pledged support to one candidate only to mobilize their followers to support another. This often creates a complication for a tim sukses as it would incur losses in votes and resources. Therefore, further studies should be undertaken to analyze deeper the relationship between the informal actors and candidates seeking their support.

Case Study: Madura

Considering all the above, it is thus pertinent to zoom in on a concrete example that can further illustrate this discussion. Madura, an island located northeast of East Java, is selected as a case study due to its unique social and cultural characteristics.

Madurese tend to hold strong traditional, religious and kinship values. Informal actors such as religious figures (ulama, blater and tojing) have significant influence in shaping the political preferences of the community. Their roles often go beyond formal political boundaries and influence citizens’ political choices through social networks, religious studies and religious events.

These actors function as informal political leaders who can engage the public on multiple levels. For example, ulamas have moral authority and the ability to mobilize support, especially during elections, making them key players in local politics. They often engage voters through sermons and religious events.

Blater (strongmen) is another type of actor. They act as organizers, mobilizing groups and supporting political candidates through informal networks and displays of strength. Blater has a special place in the complex power dynamic of Madura, combining followers’ loyalty with political support for figures of their choosing.

The third is tojing who act as intermediaries, connecting political candidates or parties with voters. They serve as “vote brokers”, mobilizing support through personal and social networks.

Tojing possess strong community ties and exert influence based on social standing, economic power or family connections. Their influence stems from their ability to bridge the gap between political elites and ordinary people, often in areas with strong patron-client relationships like Madura.

The last type of local informal leader is village heads who hold significant influence in local politics, particularly in power distribution at the village level. They often serve as conduits for mobilizing political support due to their direct access to village communities. They can play a strategic role during elections, coordinating logistics, mediating community aspirations and connecting political elites with grassroots communities.

Adding to their appeal to contesting candidates is the territories they have influence over, both geographically and culturally. Specific to Madura, candidates usually recruit blater and tojing because they have great knowledge and understanding of their communities. Additionally, with their persuasive or coercive power, they can deliver more votes from rural areas. In Madura, both blater and tojing are greatly admired for their strength and ability to accord protection, often serving as “guardians” of the ulamas there.

Interestingly, ulamas can be active informal leaders who may either nominate themselves or their preferred individuals as candidates for the position of regent. They could mobilise their students (santri) and even pesantrenalumni to vote for these candidates.

Such a strong alumni network is one of the main factors that explain why the ulamasand their pesantren have an enduring presence in Madura. Many of these pesantren alumni have even become politicians or lawmakers, such as Mahfud MD, Achmad Baidowi and Hasani Bin Zuber. Such figures maintain connections with their alumni network and the ulamas that can be beneficial during political contests. Therefore, this network can be relied on by candidates to secure votes.

Moreover, the ulamas are highly regarded in Madura as the population still harbors great admiration towards them and their families, owing to their spiritual and religious authority. The ulamas in Madura continue to give out political endorsements, while also possessing large assets that benefit the surrounding communities. This creates a dependent relationship between them and the people, which then transforms the latter into a great source of votes.

The roles of the ulamas, blater and tojing in Madura thus demonstrate the extent to which informal leaders can influence elections, not only through shaping voters’ preferences but also by boosting candidates’ electability via endorsement and other forms of support.

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

Introduction

The high cost of local elections prompted President Prabowo Subianto to revive the discourse on indirect local elections. In his speech at the Golkar Party’s anniversary, Prabowo proposed that local parliaments should elect regional heads instead of being directly elected by voters.

Political party leaders, political elites and members of the Regional Representatives Council (DPD) followed suit by welcoming the discourse on regional head elections by the local parliaments.

Despite the costly nature of organizing direct local elections, the system remains the best option for Indonesian voters seeking to ensure subnational leadership circulation.

The high cost associated with local elections is insufficient to justify switching from a direct to an indirect election system. Instead, the state and political parties should invest more to improve the quality of the organizing and outcomes of direct elections.

The Costs of Regional Elections

Cynicism regarding the recently concluded local elections is justified for an array of reasons. The president’s and national-level political forces’ interference, misuse of state resources, state apparatuses’ intervention, the poor performance of election management and supervisory bodies, low turnout rates, and increasing dynastic politics prevalence are some valid reasons to be dissatisfied with this year’s local elections.

Another reason is the costly nature associated with organizing local elections. This is not merely related to legitimate expenses, which include – but are not limited to – printing ballots, paying honorariums to polling station officials and campaign-related expenses.

The government, for example, allocated Rp37.4 trillion (approximately US$2.335 billion) to organize the 2024 Simultaneous Regional Head Elections (Pemilihan Kepala Daerah Serentak – Pilkada).

In addition to campaign expenses, candidates must also pay witness fees at polling stations, conduct electoral surveys and file disputes over election results to the Constitutional Court (MK). This last includes the cost of paying lawyers and bringing witnesses to Jakarta to testify before the MK.

Pilkada become considerably more expensive when “stealth expenses” are factored into the five-yearly ritual.

Political “dowries” (mahar politik) to secure party endorsements is one such example of, as is the money required to engage in vote buying (i.e., money politics).

It was found that a mayoral or regent candidate would need to spend Rp20-30 billion (approximately US$1.25 million to 1.87 million). A gubernatorial candidate could spend up to Rp100 billion (approximately US$6,244 million) to compete in a regional election.

The various costs mentioned so far have only addressed material costs. There are also non-material costs, such as the potential for bloody conflicts during the election period. A supporter of one candidate in Sampang (East Java), for example, died after being seriously injured in a mob attack due to a dispute between supporters of different candidates.

Candidates who win elections often have to return their “investment” through illegal means, ranging from corruption and extortion to granting licenses that abuse their authority as powerholders. The Corruption Eradication Commission recorded that 167 regional heads were implicated in corruption cases between 2004 and 2024.

The complexity and high cost of regional elections become more problematic when the positive impacts of decentralization on regional economic development are still questionable.

Although political factors are not the only causes that hinder regional economic development, local capture of public resources is one of the key mechanisms that impede the achievement of this goal. Local capture is facilitated, among others, through direct regional elections.

Prabowo’s Premature Response

The proposal to change the direct election system to an indirect one is not new.

The discourse of electing regional heads by local parliaments almost materialized in 2014 when the House of Representatives passed Law No. 24/2014 on Pilkada.

Then president Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono’s (SBY) administration initiated the law at the end of his second term. The high cost of organizing local elections and rampant money politics were cited as the primary reasons why SBY’s administration proposed to change the local election system.

However, public pressure at that time forced SBY – who was very concerned about his image as a democrat – to issue a Government Regulation in lieu of Law (Peraturan Pemerintah Pengganti Undang-Undang)that annulled the article on indirect local elections and restored the direct Pilkada system.

Past proposals to change the local election system from direct to indirect always overlook the mother of all problems in today’s Indonesian democracy: Political parties that are disconnected from society and are not democratic and transparent in their decision-making processes.

Political parties often nominate candidates in local elections that are not aligned with the wishes and interests of the voters. They often select candidates based on popularity, electability and financial strength (in the Indonesian language, colloquially known as the tiga “tas”: popularitas, elektabilitas, isi tas).

Furthermore, the previous high candidacy threshold only benefited candidates who could buy endorsements from political parties. The implication is that, in many regions, there was only one pair of candidates competing against an empty ballot box.

Finally, individuals with a background in dynasty politics dominate political party structures at the subnational level and can easily nominate their family members in Pilkada. Consequently, regeneration within political parties has stagnated, and community members who are capable and genuinely concerned for the wellbeing of the local community only have a slim chance of being nominated through political parties.

Candidacy as an independent also does not fully overcome these problems. The requirements for independent candidates in local elections are extremely demanding. Candidates must gather validated support from 6.5-10% of the total number of voters (depending on the number of voters in the region). These voters must be spread across more than 50% of the districts/cities or subdistricts in that subnational unit.

The stringent candidacy requirements have discouraged candidates who wish to run as non-political party candidates.

Therefore, it is unsurprising that political costs in subnational elections can reach billions of rupiah. Candidates who seek to compete in local elections must spend a considerable amount of money since the early stage of their candidacy. Because these candidates are not well-rooted in the community, they must spend more to market themselves. Finally, because they are not confident that voters will vote for them, many rely on vote buying to secure the voters’ support.

The Costs of Eliminating Direct Local Elections

When Indonesia adopted a direct regional election system in 2004, the main reason was rampant money politics in local parliaments during local elections. It was no secret at the time that regional head candidates could buy the votes of political party representatives in local parliaments. The adoption of direct elections initially aimed to eliminate this practice and give voters the power to choose their local leaders.

Reversing this change will bring back a similar corrupt practice without addressing the root of the problems in Indonesia’s contemporary setting.

Furthermore, without direct elections, it is inconceivable that promising regional heads would emerge and become influential actors in the national political landscape.

Direct elections have become one of the channels to produce potential candidates for national leadership. In the 2024 presidential election, two of the three presidential candidates – Anies Baswedan and Ganjar Pranowo – were former governors elected through direct elections.

One should also remember that president Joko “Jokowi” Widodo launched his political career as the mayor of Surakarta and, subsequently, the governor of Jakarta, elected through direct local elections.

Local elections have also produced other national-caliber leaders such as Tri Rismaharini (former Minister of Social Affairs), Abdullah Azwar Anas (former Minister of Administrative Reform and Bureaucratic Reform), and Bima Arya Sugiarto (current Deputy Minister of Home Affairs).

Direct local elections have also incentivized regional heads to experiment with local public policies urgently needed by the people, which could then be adopted at the national level.

Besides, the adoption of the universal healthcare policy at the national level started with healthcare policies introduced at the subnational level by politicians who sought to win the electorate’s support. It was a success story of how direct local elections can lead to innovative and progressive social welfare programs.

Most importantly, direct local elections provide an avenue for the citizens to foster democratic culture and values. If bloody horizontal conflicts occurred frequently in the early days of direct regional elections, the quantity and scale of post-election violence today have dropped significantly.

This decline indicates that competing political elites and their supporters prefer to resolve post-election disputes through legitimate as well as democratic channels. Besides, it shows that they have also refrained from violent means of conflict resolution, which suggests that the society continues to evolve by adopting democratic values.

Conclusion

Although imperfect and costly, the direct election system is still the best option for voters to force regional heads to be more responsive to public interests and replace regional heads with poor performance.

This system also offers the best opportunity for the voters to stop dynastic politics. Therefore, abolishing the direct local election system is not the appropriate response to address the cost issues of organizing this democratic process.

Voters’ and political elites’ trust in the elections management body and the direct election process can be improved by promoting transparency in all aspects as well as stages of direct election organization.

One strategy for achieving this goal is to use digital technologies in the direct election process. The use of digital technologies can also help lower the cost of conducting direct elections.

The various stealth costs associated with direct elections can also be minimized by forcing political parties to become more transparent and democratic in their candidate nomination processes.

Political parties should be forced to nominate party cadres who have proven their active membership and role in a political party and society over a period of time. The nomination process by political parties should also start from the grassroots level, where party nominations are done through a multitiered convention process.

If the high cost of local elections is being used to justify the abolition of the direct election system, the same argument could be used to abolish legislative and presidential elections in the future. Should this happen, it will be the final nail in the coffin of Indonesian democracy.

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 and non-parliamentarian Partai Persatuan Pembangunan (PPP) – joined its rank for Pilkada.

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 the areas contested. This presents a concern, as regional elections, which were originally intended as a pathway for local self-determination, instead became an opportunity for political elites in Jakarta to entrench their power.

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, creating a homogenized political make-up in which power radiates out from the center (i.e. Jakarta).

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 could easily utilize state funds and resources to achieve political targets.

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 Jakarta’s political elites towards such practice, turns Pilkada into a mere appendage of the power struggle in the center which ultimately erases local autonomy.  The Bobby Nasution-Surya and Respati-Astrid pairs are some such examples.

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 democratic future, dampening the expectation for further democratic consolidation in the next five years. Without alternative angles and adequate representation, Indonesia is bound to have an outdated and disconnected governing system that will not serve its people.

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

Introduction

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Curious Case of Jakarta’s Politics

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

When Pragmatism Hits the Ground

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Weakening Pillars of Democracy

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rewiring the System

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bad Omens

Just days away, Indonesian voters will once again exercise their democratic rights by directly voting for regional heads candidates for various levels of administrations (provinces, regencies and cities). The Simultaneous Regional Head Elections (Pemilihan Kepala Daerah Serentak – Pilkada) will be held on 27 November 2024 to elect 37 governors and 508 mayors/regents.

Pilkada, which was introduced in the post-1998 decentralization era, gives ways for regional figures to rise above the ranks in their respective “fiefdoms”.

These regional heads – governors, regents and mayors – hold highly strategic positions that can make or break central government’s policies and programs in the regions. This is because these regional heads may have personal and political interests that may differ from the central government’s targets and directives.

Against this backdrop, there have been several attempts during President Joko “Jokowi” Widodo’s administration (2014-2024) to overturn the mechanism from direct elections to parliamentary-appointed regional heads.

The notion about rampant political interference in Pilkada, in addition to possible weakening of civil oversight over its process, has been put forward since as early as July 2023, if not before.

One such interference was the fact that half of regional head offices were occupied by interim personnel appointed through questionable process after the term of previously elected leaders expired. Most of these individuals used to hold government offices or hail from the military or the police.

Furthermore, party elites have tried to revert the direct election process back to political appointment by parliament, a practice that was last seen in Soeharto’s era. To them, direct elections are seen as creating massive political noise, expensive (thus encouraging corruption) and contradicting Pancasila, especially the fourth point, which stipulates “Democracy guided by the inner wisdom in the unanimity arising out of deliberations among representatives.” For the upcoming Pilkada, at least, the voting process will still be conducted directly.

Other major events have also taken place that influence this year’s Pilkada, such as the Constitutional Court’s (MK) ruling that allowed stronger competitions among candidates and political parties. The House of Representatives (DPR) tried to reverse this ruling and thus instigated a constitutional crisis a few months ago, though thanks to citizens’ intervention, the DPR called off this process.  

With all of these under consideration, we need to examine what the current situation looks like and project some potential trajectories.

“Higher” Intervention

Presidential meddling was obvious in the past presidential election process and current Pilkada discourses tend to highlight its potential return.

The Javanese term cawe-cawe (meddling) has gained popularity ever since Jokowi announced his intention to meddle in the contest. As if to double down on this, Jokowi also mobilized state apparatus and programs to influence the outcome, such as “stalking” Ganjar Pranowo’s campaign trail, increasing salaries for civil servants and massively distributing cash aid just weeks ahead of the voting.

In return, Prabowo has reciprocated Jokowi’s support. He has retained 17 of Jokowi’s ministers as well as numerous officials in senior-level positions.

He has also accommodated some of Jokowi’s preferred candidates to run in strategic provinces. These include North Sumatra, where Jokowi’s son-in-law Bobby Nasution is running for a gubernatorial position. In Central Java, Jokowi’s close aide Ahmad Luthfi is also gunning for a similar position. This is despite Prabowo’s party, Gerakan Indonesia Raya (Gerindra), having initially earmarked on of its key figures, Sudaryono, to run as the party’s gubernatorial candidate.

These reciprocities suggest that the upcoming Pilkada is likely to mirror the presidential election, in which the central government – i.e. Prabowo instead of Jokowi now – would mobilize state apparatus and show support to help the prospects of certain candidates.

Those that support such intervention justify it on the basis of the need to ensure a strong alignment between the central and regional governments, an adage that has become a central incantation in every regional campaign cycle to date. The subject has also been a key theme for public debate sessions among candidates.

There is a possibility that the current administration may emulate Jokowi’s “formula”, such as through the weaponization of law enforcers against candidates outside of Prabowo’s camp.

The modus operandiis relatively simple: Law enforcers will approach regional influential figures, civil servants and even village heads to demand their support for Prabowo’s or Jokowi’s preferred candidates. If they are unwilling to do so, they must remain neutral, i.e. not voicing out support for other contenders. Failure to do so may plunge them into legal quagmire through all kinds of lawsuits.

Prabowo has also followed Jokowi’s steps by showing his public support for his favored candidates. This is seen most recently in his public support for the Ahmad Luthfi-Taj Yasin Maimoen pair in the Central Java contest.

As mentioned before, Luthfi is a figure close to Jokowi. His candidacy was endorsed by Jokowi himself, having served as chief of Surakarta Police during Jokowi’s first term and as chief of Central Java Police during his second.

Furthermore, Prabowo also gave blessing to his Chief of Staff A.M. Putranto to join Luthfi-Yasin’s campaign team, further cemented his support for the pair.

Nonetheless, Prabowo may be more hesitant to mobilize state resources and distribute social aid programs. As a new president, he is also pressured to deliver his ambitious projects, such as the free meal programs, school renovation, hospital development and tuberculosis eradication. Next year’s state revenue is projected to stand at Rp3,000 trillion (US$190 billion), but Prabowo’s administration needs to figure out ways to pay for more than Rp1,000 trillion (US$63.5 billion) in state debt and interest in 2025.

An Ultimate Test

The upcoming Pilkada is key for Prabowo for several reasons.  

First, it serves as the first test for the Jokowi-Prabowo tango and remains in question how long the former’s influence over the latter would last. Second, Pilkada will test the ability of Prabowo’s Koalisi Indonesia Maju (the Onward Indonesia Coalition – KIM) to work together in securing votes and victories. Whether parties would prioritise their own needs over the coalition’s common goal will remain to be seen. Third, Pilkada’s outcome will determine whether Prabowo would have a grasp over strategic regions during his rule.

These are important points should he decide to run for a second term in 2029. If he could have a firm footing in highly strategic provinces such as Banten, Jakarta, North Sumatra, South Sulawesi as well as West, Central and East Javas, Prabowo’s chance at getting re-elected would be higher. This is because Prabowo would then be able to mobilize political machinery in these regions to rally support, much akin to what Jokowi did to deliver Prabowo to victory in the presidential election.

Failure to dominate these strategic provinces would result in two negative outcomes.

Firstly, in the short term, it could lower Prabowo’s legitimacy in the eyes of his allies. As a president, he would be expected to bring his favored candidates to victories—otherwise he would just be viewed as a powerless president.

Secondly, it would lower Prabowo’s chance at winning the 2029 presidential election.

Meanwhile, questions have been raised over the effectiveness of KIM-led campaigns for several candidates.

In Jakarta, the KIM-backed pair Ridwan Kamil-Suswono is starting to go out of steam. Several polls showed that the pair’s electability has lost traction against the main contender, Pramono Anung-Rano Karno, who are supported by Partai Demokrasi Indonesia Perjuangan (PDI-P).

In Central Java, Prabowo’s public support for Luthfi came at a time when the gap between Luthfi-Yasin and Andika Perkasa-Hendrar Prihadi (the PDI-P’s candidates) was narrowing.

In Banten, the KIM-backed pair, Andra Soni-Dimyati Natakusumah, struggle to compete against incumbent governor Airin Rachmi Diany, who is backed by the PDI-P and Golongan Karya.

All of these concerning signals may push Prabowo’s team to stage more intervention in the last days of the Pilkada process.

Conclusion

Prabowo entered his office with a high approval rating but is under pressure to turn Pilkada’s outcome in his favour. He might replicate Jokowi’s meddling methods through the mobilization of state apparatus, the weaponization of law and public support of favored candidates. Institutional mobilization might become the norm after this, thanks to a strong precedent set by Jokowi.

If he also practices Jokowi’s cawe-cawe style, in the near term, it might lower the approval rating not only towards his office, but also all of the government’s institutions. It might also destroy the very concept of political competition, shatter the checks and balances system and ultimately diminish the meaning of democracy. In the end, it all comes down to whether Prabowo would be willing to balance his political pragmatism with adherence to democratic principles. It seems that Indonesia still has long and winding roads ahead to achieve a robust democracy.

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

Introduction

Indonesia has had a busy political year with the presidential and legislative elections last February, as well as the upcoming regional head elections (Pemilihan Kepala Daerah – Pilkada) on 27 November 2024. The next round of voting will determine who gets to become governors, regents and mayors in all parts of Indonesia.

A key discourse in this Pilkada is whether Indonesians would vote for fresh faces or retain the ruling class in their respective regions, which have manifested in all sorts of political dynasties or oligarchs.

At the national level, former president Joko “Jokowi” Widodo is seen to be maintaining a degree of influence across the nation. President Prabowo Subianto was voted into office with Jokowi’s scion, Gibran Rakabuming Raka, in his ticket. Despite repeated denials by Jokowi, Gibran’s mere presence is a testament to his father’s enduring presence.

Jokowi’s influence may face some delicate opposition from his former platform, Partai Demokrasi Indonesia Perjuangan (PDI-P). The party has wrested the largest number of seats in the House of Representatives (DPR) in the past three legislative elections, though the number seems to be on a declining trend over the years.

Still, the PDI-P is the only force substantial enough to provide counter to Prabowo’s big tent coalition in the DPR. The question now is if the PDI-P would become an outright opposition or assume a more ambiguous stance like what it did under Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono’s administration. Regardless, in key and closely contested regions, the PDI-P can be seen as clearly challenging candidates affiliated with Jokowi.

The dynamics of Pilkada are also highly driven by the recent Constitutional Court’s (MK) ruling that lowers the threshold for parties to nominate candidates, allowing them to do so without forming a coalition.

Against this backdrop, this article attempts to offer the political mapping ahead of Pilkada in five key regions. West, East and Central Javas are selected as the top three most populated regions. North Sumatera is next, owing to its position as the most populated province outside of Java. Jakarta, while being the sixth most populated province nation-wide, is also chosen due to its special circumstances and unique political dynamics.

As will be shown below, these two aforementioned factors (Jokowi’s influence and MK’s ruling) have a big influence in the formation of political constellations that have determined the way each regional contest is playing out.

West Java: The Land of (Political) Giants

As the biggest province with the highest number of voters, West Java is currently dominated by Golongan Karya (Golkar) with 4.2 million votes, closely tailed by Gerakan Indonesia Raya (Gerindra) with 4.1 million votes and Partai Keadilan Sejahtera (PKS) with 3.5 million votes in the last legislative election.

For the upcoming Pilkada, Golkar and Gerindra joined forces – along with other parties including Partai Demokrat (the Democratic Party), Partai Amanat Nasional (PAN) and Partai Solidaritas Indonesia (PSI) – to nominate Dedi Mulyadi as a gubernatorial candidate. Dedi was Purwakarta regent for 10 years (2008-2018) and a Golkar lawmaker from 2019 to 2023, before hopping to Gerindra last year.

The PKS, on the other hand, established a coalition with Partai Nasional Demokrat (NasDem) and Partai Persatuan Pembangunan (PPP) to nominate Ahmad Syaikhu, who is running with Ilham Habibie as his deputy. Ilham is the son of the late president B.J. Habibie.

The other two gubernatorial candidates are Acep Adang Ruhiyat (supported by Partai Kebangkitan Bangsa [PKB]) and Jeje Wiradinata (backed by the PDI-P).

The latest poll indicated that Dedi is in the pole position (67.7%) to claim the gubernatorial post thanks to his popularity among voters. There is a wide gap between Dedi and other candidates, with Syaikhu-Ilham being the only other pair that have a two-digit electability score (10%) in the poll. All other candidates are even further behind.

East Java: A Contest Between Three Heroines

The incumbent East Java Governor Khofifah Indar Parawansa is favored to maintain her seats amidst the challenge by two other female candidates: Tri Risma Harini (a PDI-P politician, former Surabaya mayor and former minister of social affairs) and Luluk Hamidah (a PKB politician and former lawmaker).

Khofifah will be supported by 15 parties, parliament and non-parliament ones, that are dominantly part of Prabowo’s Koalisi Indonesia Maju (the Onward Indonesia Coalition – KIM). On the other hand, both the PDI-P and the PKB are confident to field their own respective candidates after securing the top two positions in Dewan Perwakilan Rakyat Daerah (Regional Representative Council) following the last legislative election.

Recent polls show that Khofifah is in the pole position and has a huge opportunity to win in one round as she garnered 65.8% in electability score, leaving Risma (25.5%) and Luluk (1%) far behind.

Central Java: War of the Generals

Central Java has emerged as a battleground between Gen. (ret.) Andika Perkasa and Insp. Gen. (ret.) Ahmad Luthfi, with the two coming from the military and police backgrounds, respectively.

Like in the other two provinces, Central Java also demonstrates clearly how the PDI-P (which won 5 million votes in the region’s last legislative election) is challenging a big coalition (15 political parties, amounting to 13 million votes) that fields its own candidate.

In the last presidential election, despite Central Java being the party’s bastion, this did not stop non-PDI-P candidate (Prabowo) from winning the province’s total vote against the party’s own candidate Ganjar Pranowo. This was thanks to Jokowi’s influence overshadowing and undermining Ganjar’s political campaign.

There is a worry that a similar pattern will also repeat in the upcoming Pilkada.

After all, Central Java is also Jokowi’s basis: He had been a mayor of Surakarta before, a seat that was later occupied by Gibran for three years (2021-2024). Jokowi also performed strongly in this province during the 2014 and 2019 presidential elections, a further testament to his grasp over Central Java.

For the upcoming Pilkada, Andika is paired with Hendrar Prihadi, former mayor of Semarang (Central Java’s capital). Meanwhile, Luthfi runs with Taj Yasin Maimoen as his deputy, the son of popular cleric Maimoen Zubair and Ganjar’s deputy governor of Central Java from 2018 to 2023. In the previous Pilkada, Ganjar-Yasin won 3.8 million votes.

The majority of polls in September put Luthfi in the pole position, while another conducted in October put Andika slightly ahead of Luthfi (a gap of 2%). Nevertheless, the latter poll also indicated that the number of swing voters is still huge (80%), which means the election will be closely contested.

Moreover, a recent video on Prabowo promoting Luthfi-Yasin also added controversy to the mix, indicating that Prabowo’s voice matters and that he is not above influencing the political contest, especially one that will be fiercely fought. It also indicates Jokowi’s rather heavy-handed measure to deny the PDI-P a win in its own bastion.

North Sumatra: The Son-in-law vs. the Incumbent

The gubernatorial contest in North Sumatera will feature two pairs: Bobby Nasution-Surya and Edy Rahmayadi-Hasan Basri Sagala. Bobbby is Jokowi’s son-in-law, while Edy is the incumbent.

Bobby-Surya is supported by seven political parties, including Golkar, Gerindra, NasDem, the PAN, Demokrat, the PKS and Partai Bulan Bintang (PBB). Bobby is currently serving as the mayor of Medan (North Sumatera’s capital) for the 2021-2024 period.

The second pair, Edy-Hasan, is backed by six political parties, including the PDI-P, Partai Hati Nurani Rakyat (Hanura), Partai Buruh (the Labour Party) as well as non-parliamentarian Partai Kebangkitan Nusantara (PKN), Partai Gelombang Rakyat Indonesia (Gelora) and Partai Ummat (Ummah Party). Edy only entered the politics of North Sumatra in 2018 – previously, he served as the Commander of Army Strategic Command.

The PDI-P backed Bobby’s mayoral bid in 2021 when Jokowi and the party were still in-sync. Nevertheless, as this relationship deteriorates, the PDI-P now implements the “no-Jokowi” strategy in numerous contests, including in North Sumatera. The party is now backing Edy.

In a twist, Gerindra, which backed Edy’s gubernatorial bid previously, has now switched sides and supported Bobby.

Jakarta: The Absence of a Favourite

Former governor Anies Baswedan was leading the polls prior to the registration deadline for gubernatorial candidates. As a figure of resistance to Prabowo’s administration, Anies was regarded as a serious contender in Jakarta’s gubernatorial election. He was also closely associated with the PKS, which won the highest vote in the province’s legislative election.

These did not save him, however, as the PKS withdrew support and joined Prabowo’s camp.

Nonetheless, the PDI-P showed signs that it was ready to back Anies’ candidacy. This did not materialize either, with the PDI-P switching support to Pramono Anung in the last minute. Pramono is Megawati’s right-hand man and he is paired with popular actor Rano Karno, who also served as the governor of Banten from 2015 to 2017.

Furthermore, Pramono was a cabinet secretary in Jokowi’s administration and was among the hundreds of figures who showed up at Prabowo’s home while the president-elect was finalizing his list of ministers, deputy ministers and heads of state institutions. While some assumed that Pramono’s visit signaled Prabowo’s support for his gubernatorial campaign, Pramono has dismissed the rumors.

Meanwhile, KIM parties have nominated Ridwan Kamil, a Golkar politician and highly popular former West Java governor (2018-2023) as their candidate. Although Prabowo’s supporters have rallied behind Ridwan and his running mate, PKS executive Suswono, there is no urgency for Prabowo to support a specific candidate in this contest.

This is because Prabowo will gain regardless of who wins. Even if Pramono-Rano win Jakarta’s top job, Pramono could serve as a strategic bridge between Prabowo and the PDI-P chairwoman Megawati, who has kept the party’s stance towards Prabowo’s administration ambiguous.

Different pollsters have expressed differing opinions on electability. The latest poll by the LSI showed Pramono ahead of Ridwan with a notable margin (around 4%). The third and independent pair of candidates, Dharma Pongrekun-Kun Wardana, trailed far behind with only 6.6% of support.

Even though Jakarta will cease to be the capital of Indonesia soon, the office of its governor is still one of the most important and sought-after ones in the upcoming Pilkada. Jakarta may remain as Indonesia’s hub for business, finance and trade, but its future governor will be tasked with navigating the city in its post-capital years.

Conclusion

Pilkada is significant as future development of the regions will be determined by the victors. More importantly, Pilkada in the most populated areas has the potential to influence national political dynamics, while also determining the future of tens, if not hundreds, of millions of lives.

For example, the outcome of Pilkada in West, East and Central Javas will shape the candidates’ future political trajectories, regardless of whether they win or lose. Party constellation has also changed thanks to the two factors mentioned above – it will be interesting to observe how the inter-party dynamics will change in the future as well.

Furthermore,  the Jokowi-PDI-P schism remains as intense and as visible in Pilkada contests in various regions. At the same time, we should not discount the interest of individual candidates to advance their own goals and perhaps a desire to be free from this fettering political dynamic. Pilkada is the last piece of puzzle in this long political year. Prabowo has won and assembled his lieutenants–the outcomes of Pilkada in various regions will complete the picture of Indonesia’s political trajectory at least in the next five years.

Introduction

With the recent presidential victories of Gabriel Boric in Chile and Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva in Brazil, there seems to be a renewed hope in electoral process to check the spread of far-right populist governments and their neoliberal policies that accelerate environmental destruction and other socio-economic woes.

Indonesia, a country deemed to be experiencing a democratic backsliding, has passed some questionable policies that are not in line with its pledge to combat climate crisis. Thus, the upcoming Pemilu 2024 poses an interesting question: will the election result bring a significant change to the agenda of environmental protection?

Regrettably, the short answer is probably no. Considering how the Indonesian electoral system and political funding scheme are established, only those with significant economic capital or strong networks with wealthy donors could have any hope to participate in politics and reverse the derided status quo.

This article will explore those systemic challenges and the potential formation of oligarchs surrounding the potential presidential candidates in Pemilu 2024.

Rigged by the Rich, for the Rich

Ideally, in a democracy, everybody has an equal opportunity to have an equal say in how the nation’s laws are made, regardless of their socio-economic background. Representatives are charged with collecting, communicating and acting on the public’s many but conflicting interest, and thus the policies enacted ought to reflect the interests of the many without harming the rights of the few.

But this is not the case. In Indonesia, oligarchs either have a firm grip on representative politics or are businesspersons aiming for wealth accumulation.

In 2019, 262 (45.5%) out of 575 Dewan Perwakilan Rakyat (House of Representatives – DPR) members are affiliated with 1,016 corporations. This number increased in 2020 with up to 318 parliament members are categorized as businesspersons.

Furthermore, at least 20 legislative members and five officials from the executive branch were found to be affiliated with the coal industry. This affiliation could impede a smooth transition towards renewable energy.

The prevalence of oligarchs dominating Indonesian politics is not an anomaly but a logical consequence of the legal frameworks surrounding political party finance and campaign donations that enable parties’ transactional dependency on big donors.

This has a consequence on the price of entering politics. It was found that a single political party in Indonesia must spend up to Rp51.2 billion in a non-political year to cover their expenses, such as for political education, operational needs and organization consolidation.

This already exorbitant sum does not include money parties need to pour toward their campaign during the election cycles. For example, one party participating in Pemilihan Umum Legislatif 2019 (the 2019 Legislative Election – Pileg) reported spending Rp232 billion for their campaign fund.

One estimation calculated that the amount of expenditure of an individual legislative candidate in Pileg 2014 varies between Rp1.18 – 4.6 billion. This does not take into account the costs that must be incurred if each candidate wants to illegally “buy” votes. A study found that most candidates running for seats at DPR spent between Rp1.4 – 7.8 billion in total for bribing potential voters to vote in their favour.

Since Indonesian laws prohibit political parties from acting as a for-profit business, parties could only rely on several legal sources of funding to satisfy those high demands. These include: 1) mandatory party member contributions; 2) donations from party and non-party members; 3) corporate donations, and; 4) financial assistance from state funds (commonly referred to as political assistance).

With some slight differences, the regulation regarding campaign funding stipulates that the source could come from the candidates’ own resources, their political parties and other outside contributions as long as it does not come from foreign sources, anonymous contributors, illegal activities, or from the government. 

In a nutshell, political parties become overly reliant on a transactional relationship with their benefactors due to a combination of three factors. These are: 1) a high cap for third-party donation; 2) limitless personal donation from party members or the candidates themselves and; 3) the domination of a few big donors as a source of donation (as opposed to the public through the state). It should be noted that the significant funds disbursed by third-party donors to parties – as well as the capital used by each candidate to win elections – are not “gifts”, let alone driven by altruistic motivations. There could be reciprocal demands to recoup their “investments” or even multiply the amount when their candidates are sitting in the office. The contributors hope they will benefit from political parties through policymaking or access resources available to their backed candidates who occupy strategic positions.

One indicator for this is the selling off permits that sacrifice environmental sustainability and the rights of indigenous peoples for the sake of extractive industries as well as the preservation of the oligarchs’ power.

Through the practice commonly referred to as regulatory capture, the interests of oligarchs – especially those affiliated with coal industry – are also accommodated through various legislations. This is exemplified by the Omnibus Law on Job Creation and the revision of the Coal and Mineral Mining Law. For instance, coal companies can qualify for an exemption from paying royalties as well as being absolved of criminal and financial sanctions for mining in forest areas. Ignoring the massive public rejection, the two legal products were unconstitutionally deliberated and passed in a closed manner.

Looking at the recent draft bill on New and Renewable Energy Law, coal oligarchs have also hijacked the effort of transitioning towards cleaner energy by classifying coal-based energy such as coal bed methane, coal liquefaction and coal gasification as part of a “new” renewable energy, which is misleading to say the least.

New President, Same Old Elites

One of the key characteristics of oligarchs is that they tend to operate through the logic of wealth defense. Oligarchs will use their significant concentrations of material resources to defend or increase their wealth and exclusive standing in a society through effective control (directly or indirectly) of government or other strategic sectors.

Through this lens, the oligarchs see that the Indonesian political system (especially during the administration of President Joko “Jokowi” Widodo) is to their benefit, mainly through various deregulation policies. Therefore, they try to maintain the current political system arrangement that favours their interests. One of the ways is by limiting the potential for independent presidential candidates outside the support of major parties and alternative candidates other than the incumbent in power to advance to the general election.

Article 222 of the Election Law states that a party or a coalition of parties must secure a minimum of 20% of parliamentary seats or 25% of the popular vote to nominate a candidate in the presidential election. Until now, the Constitutional Court have rejected at least 14 petitions by the public demanding the annulment the provisions regarding the presidential threshold. The Court kept maintaining that the issue of presidential threshold falls into what is called “open legal policy” category. It means that it is up to the legislators to determine the threshold percentage. The Court decided they would not interfere with lawmakers’ prerogative in making legal policies.

Consequently, such limitation means that only parties with a sizeable presence in DPR or are members of a grand coalition can field a presidential candidate. The implication of this is the loss of an effective opposition in DPR, potentially further marginalizes the public interest in favour of the elite few. This loss of opposition is caused by parties wishing to gain access to resources and patronage by joining the grand coalition during Jokowi’s time.

Currently, only Partai Demokrasi Indonesia Perjuangan (Indonesian Democratic Party of Struggle – PDI-P), with total control of 22.9% of seats, can nominate a presidential candidate without the help of a coalition.

Looking at several figures who have declared themselves intending to run for president, the result of the Pemilu 2024 is shaping up to be another win for the oligarchs. Some of them have long been affiliated with the coal business or are affiliated with the share owners in one of Indonesia’s largest coal companies, while others rely on the support of a well-known party led by a media tycoon.

Beyond Elections

Things might seem dire for those who expect the ushering of meaningful change in the regime through the ballots post-2024, especially with the civil society having no apparent official recourse to make their demands considered by those in power. However, looking at the situation differently, maybe it is time for us to reconsider what can be defined as public participation beyond the thin procedural conceptualization of electoral voting. Suppose we could not depend on the elected officials to give us adequate formal means to exercise our constitutional rights to participate in the decision-making process. In such case, we must expand the scope of public participation so it can create organic, inclusive and emancipatory enclaves of resistance. Through intersectional community organizing, we can increase the bargaining power of civil society so that at least it can disrupt the smooth running of what seems to be an increasingly oligarchic and authoritarian style of governance.

A Series on Political Islam and GE15 – Part 1: Islamists vs Islamists in GE15

Introduction

In Malaysia’s 15^th general election (GE15), the political Islam landscape is becoming more complex and fluid. Many candidates with Islamist backgrounds are competing with each other in multiple constituencies.

In the last few decades, much attention has been on the “Islamization race” between Parti Islam Se-Malaysia (Malaysian Islamic Party – PAS) and United Malays National Organisation (UMNO). However, with the entry of Parti Amanah Negara (National Trust Party – Amanah), a splinter party of PAS, in the last GE, the focus shifted to how PAS and Amanah competed to gain the support of pious Muslim voters. In this election, multi-cornered fights between coalitions are expected.

Notably, each coalition includes Islamist representation – PAS in Perikatan Nasional (National Alliance – PN) led by Muhyiddin Yassin, Amanah in Pakatan Harapan (Alliance of Hope – PH) led by Anwar Ibrahim and Barisan Jemaah Islamiah Se-Malaysia (Pan-Malaysian Islamic Front – Berjasa) in Gerakan Tanah Air (Homeland Movement – GTA), led by Mahathir Mohammad.

The Islamists in the above-mentioned coalitions claim to oppose the corrupted UMNO yet differ in their political strategies and social attitudes. Overall, the Islamists in PH are relatively moderate and willing to work with non-Muslims; the Islamists in PN are more conservative and advocate for “Malay Muslim leadership”, and; the Islamists in GTA take a hardline position and exclude non-Muslims in the alliance. Comparatively speaking, while UMNO appears to have the least Islamist element, it also fields candidates with Islamic backgrounds, such as its youth chief Asyraf Wajdi and a Salafi preacher, Fathul Bari.

Collectively, this sets the scene for Islamists versus Islamists in GE15. To provide context to this competition, this article focuses on five political parties with significant Islamist presence (PAS, Amanah, Parti Bahtera Sejahtera [Prosperous Ark Party – Bahtera], Berjasa and Partai Keadilan Rakyat [People’s Justice Party – PKR]) and three politically-active Islamist organizations (Angkatan Belia Islam Malaysia [Muslim Youth Movement of Malaysia –  ABIM], Pertubuhan IKRAM Malaysia [IKRAM] and Ikatan Muslimin Malaysia [Malaysian Muslim Solidarity – ISMA). By looking at these parties and organizations, it would demonstrate their complex and entangled relationships, including competitions and collaborations between them.

PAS

Being the oldest Islamist party, PAS has undergone numerous changes in its strategy over the decades. For example, PAS leaders appeared to be more moderate and inclusive when the party was in Pakatan Rakyat (the People’s Pact – PR) together with PKR and Democratic Action Party (DAP), touting “PAS for all”. However, the party took a more exclusivist position with an emphasis on “Islamic leadership” and “Malay unity” upon its departure from PR. Instead of working with multi-ethnic parties, PAS preferred to cooperate with Malay nationalist parties in the name of “Muslim unity”. Recent statements by its president Hadi Awang have also become increasingly right-leaning such as blaming non-Muslims as the root cause of corruption in Malaysia.

For GE15, PAS seems to take a pragmatic approach but that does not mean it has abandoned its conservative stance. As PAS leaders were unsuccessful in fostering cooperation between UMNO and Parti Pribumi Bersatu Malaysia (Malaysian United Indigenous Party – Bersatu), the party chose to form an electoral alliance with Bersatu and Gerakan under PN. By working with multi-ethnic Gerakan, it is indicative of PAS’ pragmatism and willingness to work with non-Muslims.

However, PAS continues to espouse conservative narratives. On its social media campaign, PAS has attacked both Barisan Nasional (National Front – BN) and PH. On one hand, it criticizes UMNO for corruption and, on the other, it accuses PH of supporting the “liberals”, the “communists” and the lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender (LGBT) group. By doing so, it positions itself as a clean party and “defender of Islam”, appealing to anti-corruption conservative voters.

Amanah

PKR, DAP and Amanah are the backbone of multi-ethnic PH. By promoting the idea of a “compassionate Islam”, Amanah positions itself as a moderate and inclusive Islamist party. However, in recent years, there has been a lack of youth and female representations in the party leadership.

Based on the author’s observations, Amanah leaders have also been less effective in promoting progressive Islamic discourses and expanding its grassroots base. During the PH administration, the party has been accused of being a “DAP puppet” and “unable to defend Islam”, an accusation that the party leaders failed to address.

After PH downfall as government, some of Amanah’s leaders and supporters have been continuously trolling PAS for not being able to implement Islamic policies such as blanket ban of alcohol and the implementation of Hudud laws. To attack PAS, Amanah machinery used race-baiting narratives peddled by right-wing and conservative elements on the “Timah” issue, a whisky brand in Malaysia. For example, Malaysia Dateline – a portal closely linked to Amanah – published an article claiming that the name Timah was a derivative of Prophet Muhammad’s daughter Fatimah and questioning PAS’ silence on the issue.

Despite going on the offensive against PAS, the party is encountering infighting for the upcoming GE15. Tensions are further escalated when several grassroot leaders have expressed unhappiness after perceiving that the party were at the losing end in GE15 seat negotiations with DAP and Muda. Such an environment has led several former Amanah leaders to contest under PKR (Husam Musa in Pasir MAS) and DAP (Ahmad Tarmizi) in GE15. One positive development for the party in GE15 is the fielding of more youth and female candidates such as Razak Ridzuan and  Aiman Athirah Sabu.

Bahtera

Besides former PAS leaders, leaders and activists of various Islamist organizations, especially IKRAM (formerly Jamaah Islah Malaysia – JIM), played an essential role in forming Amanah. Key Amanah leaders closely-linked to IKRAM include the former Minister of Religious Affairs Mujahid Yusof Rawa, the former Health Minister Dzulkefly Ahmad, Amanah’s Vice President Hasanuddin Mohd Yunus and the former JIM chairperson Saari Sungib.

In the last election, many IKRAM members actively campaigned for Amanah candidates. In the lead-up to GE15, however, the tension between IKRAM activists and ex-PAS members in Amanah has surfaced. Based on the author’s research, this tension stemmed from IKRAM activists perceiving to have been sidelined in Amanah, while ex-PAS members in the party believed some IKRAM activists were out of touch with the grassroots.

Such tension has led a few disgruntled former young IKRAM activists to form another new party, Bahtera. However, as the party has not unsuccessfully registered itself in GE15, its activists will run as independent candidates in five parliament seats. It is important to note that IKRAM leadership does not endorse the establishment of Bahtera and that the party’s activists, formerly from IKRAM, downplay their relationship with IKRAM. Currently, Bahtera activists are also running another youth movement called Gelora whose name is simlar to Partai Gelora Indonesia, a splinter of Partai Keadilan Sejahtera (Prosperous Justice Party – PKS), an Islamist party in Indonesia. This similarity in names may highlight how Islamist parties in Malaysia and Indonesia take references with each other.

Berjasa and ISMA

Another small Islamist party in Malaysia is Berjasa, which takes a more exclusive and hardline stand than PAS. Berjasa is a splinter party of PAS and now linked to ISMA, an Islamist organization. During the GE13, Berjasa disagreed with the cooperation between PAS and DAP under PR. Therefore, it contested in several Malay-majority urban seats to provide a “more Islamic” option.

However, in GE14, after PAS left PR, Berjasa worked with PAS as an electoral pact under Gagasan Sejahtera (Ideas of Prosperity). Under the slogan “Vote Muslim First”, Berjasa has always proposed that Malay voters support “credible Muslim candidates” and reject candidates who were non-Muslim and Muslims perceived to be “liberal.”

In GE15, Berjasa is part of Mahathir-led GTA (together with Pejuang, the National Indian Muslim Alliance Party [Iman] and Parti Bumiputera Perkasa Malaysia [Malaysia Mighty Bumiputera Party – Putra]), a Muslim-only political coalition. Berjasa has often lost its deposits in past elections and it hopes that by working with Mahathir, the party might gain more votes to expand its influence. Some Berjasa leaders have proposed that PN and GTA cooperate in the election to consolidate anti-corruption and conservative Malay votes. However, such an attempt was unsuccessful.

PKR and ABIM

Unlike the four aforementioned Muslim-majority parties, PKR is a multi-ethnic centrist party with members of various ethnic, religious and ideological backgrounds. However, moderate Islamists, especially those with ABIM and IKRAM backgrounds, have played an essential role in the party’s leadership since its establishment.

Urban pious middle-class Muslims are one of the PKR’s key vote bases. In GE15, PKR candidates include at least five ABIM activists and nine IKRAM-linked figures. ABIM candidates include: 1) Anwar Ibrahim, former ABIM president; 2) Fadhlina Sidek, a female ABIM leader and; 3) Jufitri Joha, former ABIM vice president.

Meanwhile, IKRAM-linked candidates include: 1) Hassan Basri, former deputy president of IKRAM; 2) Fuziah Salleh, former JIM’s women chief; 3) Rodziah Ismail, a Selangor State Executive Council member; 4) Maszlee Malik, former education minister during the PH administration and; 5) Nik Omar, the eldest son of well-respected Nik Aziz, the former PAS spiritual leader.

When PH was in power, its rivals and right-wing groups accused the coalition of being “unable to uphold Islam.” Thus, by including Nik Omar and other Islamist figures, PKR attempts to demonstrate its Islamic credentials to convince pious Muslim voters that PH can safeguard their interests.

Same Ideology but Different Outcomes

Though Islamists, ABIM, IKRAM and ISMA are not monolithic. These three tarbiyah and dakwah organizations have, in different ways, been influenced by the ideology of the Muslim Brotherhood. This explains their shared conservative views on numerous religious, moral and gender issues. They also hold similar positions on certain international issues, such as Palestinian, Uyghur and Rohingya rights.

However, these three organizations have different views on domestic politics, multicultural engagement and democratic participation. As of today, ABIM and IKRAM are pro-PH, endorsing multiculturalism and cooperating with non-Muslims. In line with such positions, ABIM recently promoted the agenda of “cosmopolitan Islam” while IKRAM endorses the vision of “compassionate Islam”. In contrast, ISMA is anti-PH, advocating the closure of vernacular schools and viewing non-Muslim politicians as a threat to the Malay agenda. The current slogan of ISMA is Melayu Sepakat, Islam Berdaulat (Malay Unity, Islamic Sovereignty) and its support towards Muslim-only GTA reflects its ultra-nationalist and Islamist stand.

Notably, these three groups are both civil society actors and political players. As civil groups, both IKRAM and ABIM have developed close relationships with non-Muslims in various social movements such as Bersih 2.0, the electoral reform group. Currently, IKRAM is also a key player in Gabungan Bertindak Malaysia (Malaysian Action Coalition – GBM), a multi-ethnic NGO coalition, and has supported the campaign of Manifesto Rakyat (People’s Manifesto). It also actively participates in Rasuah Buster, an anti-corruption campaign led by Sinar Harian, a Malay daily.

During this election, ABIM and IKRAM initiate a cross-religion declaration by various religious leaders and NGOs, to call for institutional and political reforms. In contrast, ISMA takes an exclusivist position in socio-political participation.

During the PH administration, ISMA played an active role in popularising perceptions of Malay insecurity and Islam being under threat. In the last election, ISMA launched Gerakan Pengundi Sedar (Voter Awareness Movement – GPS), a campaign that urged Muslims to vote for calon Muslim berwibawa (credible Muslim candidates) who uphold the Malay-Muslim agenda. In the aftermath of GE14, GPS has become an active Facebook fan page that posts messages almost daily “revealing” incidents which prove that “Islam is under threat”. 

During the Johor and Melaka state elections, GPS criticised BN for fielding non-Malay candidates in Malay-majority constituencies. This shows that being a far-right group, ISMA holds a much more exclusivist stand as compared to PAS and UMNO which are both currently against DAP yet still willing to work with other non-Malay parties such as Malaysian Chinese Association (MCA), MIC (Malaysian Indian Congress) and Gerakan. In this election, GPS continues its efforts in “revealing” and attacking candidates who are perceived as “anti-Islam”, “liberal” and “pro-LGBT”. While ISMA and its activists have relative success in shaping opinions, ISMA-linked Berjasa does not perform well in elections.

In terms of political participation, ABIM and IKRAM members are more successful in their political careers. Most of ABIM politically-active members are with PKR such as Anwar Ibrahim, Fadhlina Sidek and Shamsul Iskandar, while others such as Asyraf Wajdi and Saifuddin Abdullar are in UMNO and Bersatu respectively.

For IKRAM members who are contesting in elections, PKR and Amanah are their preferred choices. Interestingly, there are also three candidates with IKRAM backgrounds in Mahathir-led Pejuang – IKRAM’s former women chief Che Asmah Ibrahim, Hidayah (a preaching unit under IKRAM) former Chairperson Nicholas Sylvester and former Deputy Finance Minister Amiruddin Hamzah.

In this election, most ISMA activists run as Berjasa candidates by using the logo of Pejuang, as the GTA coalition has not yet secured official registration. The list of Berjasa candidates includes its president and a former Seremban ISMA chief Zamani Ibrahim, its deputy president and the former chairman of Studio Kembara (which produced the hit film Mat Kilau) Rosli Ramli, ex-Hulu Langat ISMA chief Annuar Salleh and ex-Seberang Perai ISMA chief Hamidi Abu Hassan.

However, instead of joining Berjasa, another outspoken ISMA activist Aminuddin Yahaya joined GTA as part of the Malay Muslim civil societies coalition called Gagasan Bangsa (Ideas of the Nation). He was most recently the president of Malay-Islamist pressure group Pertubuhan-Pertubuhan Pembela Islam (Defenders of Islam – PEMBELA) and was the president of ISMA.

Combining both conservative Islamism and exclusivist Malay nationalism, Aminuddin Yahya is a right-wing figure has made numerous controversial statements, racist remarks and hate speeches. He was one of the key leaders of the December 2018 rally opposing the ratification of the United Nations’ International Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Racial Discrimination (ICERD). He has also filed a lawsuit to challenge against vernacular schools in Malaysia. In his election manifestation, he outlines his aims of struggles which include the establishment of an Islamic State,  promoting Buy Muslim First campaign, protesting against the ratification of ICERD and Rome Statute, defending Malay reserve lands, and objecting non-Muslim from using the term “Allah”.

Currently, he is appointed as GTA’s Pahang chairperson and national deputy chairperson. He is also the GTA parliamentary candidate for Temerloh, marking his first political debut in national politics. He will face a four-corner fight, including UMNO’s Mohd Sharkar, PAS’s Ustazah Salamiah and Amanah’s youth chief Hasbie Muda. Hence, we witness a competition between three Islamist parties or figures– PAS, Amanah and Aminuddin Yahaya in Temerloh.

Conclusion

Most Islamists in Malaysia recognize that they could not win the election alone due to the country’s first-past-the-poll electoral system, multireligious demography and diverse political realities. Therefore, they engage with various social and political players, as well as infiltrate both state and non-state spheres to expand their influence.

Many Islamists do not only focus on electoral success but also place efforts to shape social values, lead political opinions and influence government policies. Some join the government to implement various policies of Islamisation, while others remain as civil society actors to preach and “defend” Islam. Some of them engage with non-Muslims, and others work with Malay nationalists, resulting in diverse manifestations of Islamism in Malaysia. Some have been more inclusive in their outlooks, while others have chosen to take a more hardline and exclusive position. Indeed, Islamists are not monolithic – with different political and social participation, they have undergone various transformations although do not necessarily give up their ideological commitment. Given that there are various Islamist actors competing and collaborating with each other across different political parties and coalitions, whichever political coalition that wins the election, the trend of Islamisation and “halalisation” will persist, albeit its contents and outlooks might differ.

Part 2: Expected Acceptance and Rejection Factors for PAS and UMNO in Peninsula Malaysia in the 15th General Election

Part 3: The Malay-Muslim Politics and Malaysia’s GE15

Part 4:The Sustainability of the Next Islamic Initiative in Malaysia

Part 5: Mediatised Religion in Malaysia: Islamization by Trolling?

A Four-Part Series on Political Islam and Pemilu 2024 – Part 2: Sharia Politics in 2024: Ideology or Commodity

Introduction

Ideologies supporting sharia implementation would never sizzle out in Indonesia, a country with the largest Muslim population in the world. Such ideologies have persisted through different periods of time and regimes, surviving even the country’s shift from authoritarian to democratic rules. Yet, unlike crushed armed insurrections in Soekarno’s and Soeharto’s eras, sharia politics has never found the right momentum, its influence ebbing and flowing but has never really become a dominant force in the political scene.

In this context, sharia politics is defined as a movement – propagated by Muslim actors through formal political processes – which carries the agenda of promoting sharia implementation and other Muslim supremacist narratives.

Historically, proponents of sharia implementation have had close to zero chance at becoming the top force in the country. Even Anies Baswedan, a political figure currently enjoying support from this quarter, has once considered political Islam as an extreme yet marginal force in Indonesia’s realpolitik. Although this movement has successfully pushed for major social changes in the society in the last few decades (as marked with the proliferation of philanthropy efforts, the hijrah phenomenon, integrated Islamic schools and tahfiz schools), the last few years have also seen pushbacks by nationalist, traditionalist and moderate Muslims that resist the Islamization drive supported by such movement.

Two recent political contestations paint a good picture of the aims and methods of this movement. Pemilihan Gubernur Jakarta 2017 (Jakarta’s 2017 Gubernatorial Election – Pilgub) and Pemilihan Umum 2019 (the 2019 General Elections – Pemilu) were important momentums exploited by proponents of sharia politics to grab power. The emergence of “common enemies” in the figures of Basuki Tjahaja Purnama (Ahok) and Joko “Jokowi” Widodo united various Islamist forces in the country.

Highly optimistic, proponents of sharia politics channeled their political capital to support the Prabowo Subianto-Sandiaga Uno pair in Pemilu 2019. However, with results that did not meet their expectation, such movement fell apart, rendering their economic-driven agenda to usher a mass social transformation and pro-Islam politics a distant dream.

Despite this, would the forces behind sharia politics reconvene in the run up to Pemilu 2024? How would sharia politics be defined this time around? Would sectarian issues come back and stimulate political mobilization as in the past? To answer these questions, a quick reading of the history of Indonesia’s sharia politics is necessary.

Ebb and Flow

After decades under a repressive regime, proponents of various forms of political Islam, including those of sharia politics, obtained an access to Indonesia’s political system when Soeharto searched for support before his fall in 1998.

For example, modernist Muslim intellectuals who established Ikatan Cendekiawan Muslim Indonesia (Indonesian Association of Muslim Intellectuals – ICMI) dominated posts in Islamic-oriented bureaucracies while militant Islamist groups such as the Salafis and Muslim Brotherhood gained momentum to strengthen footholds in universities and mosques. These proponents became patrons and political elites, enjoying access to resources dan gaining a platform in the national political scene.

The alliance of Islamist forces during this era also led to a number of outcomes, among which is the establishment of the Front Pembela Islam (Islamic Defenders Front – FPI).

The honeymoon period of these forces extended during President Soesilo Bambang Yudhoyono’s (SBY) administration from 2004 to 2014, boosting their confidence that there is indeed a way to promote sharia through existing political process, despite the rhetoric employed often attacked democracy as a kafir (infidel) system.

Two years after Soeharto’s fall, this confidence was also displayed when some members of Jama’ah Islamiyah abandoned their armed struggle and established Majelis Mujahidin Indonesia (Indonesian Mujahidin Council – MMI) under the leadership of Abu Bakar Ba’asyir. Though not severing ties with the jihadist groups completely, MMI pursued a political path to fight for what they call the formalization of Islamic sharia through the legislative processes. This path fostered a coalition among proponents of sharia politics called Komite Persiapan Penerapan Syariat Islam (Preparatory Committee for the Implementation of Islamic Sharia – KPPSI). Optimism further mounted when many regions implement regional regulations (Peraturan Daerah – Perda) tinged with sharia influences, which KPPSI helped to facilitate.

At the same time, the patronage controlled by proponents of sharia politics – those who occupy offices or are in power – breathed a fresh air for the development of sharia politics. At national level, this is exemplified by the Ministry of Agriculture which, after being held by a minister from Partai Keadilan Sejahtera (Prosperous Justice Party – PKS), was dominated by Islamist-minded officials. At regional level, places such as West Java, Sumatera and Sulawesi were governed by leaders who sought popularity by issuing sharia bylaws.

Despite these, the optimism was not sustainable as the degree of sharia implementation remained limited, with the scope of sharia-tinged Perda never graduated from moral to criminal domains. In some areas, the authority of Perda even declined as regional heads came and went. This limited achievement, perhaps, drove certain figures such as Abu Bakar Ba’asyir towards violent solutions again, with the cleric being arrested once more for terrorism-related charges. Ba’asyir was later released from prison in January 2021 after serving 15 years in prison. He returned to his pesantren (Islamic boarding schools) and show signs of a more conformist position towards the government’s promotion of nationalism.

When President Jokowi ascended to power in 2014 with the support of nationalist and inclusive Islamic parties, many forces of sharia politics, including PKS became the opposition and accused Jokowi’s administration of being anti-Islam. This is inseparable from the loss of access to power they formerly enjoyed and their resentment towards Jokowi’s repressive policies, including the disbandment of Hizbut Tahrir Indonesia (HTI) and FPI in 2017 and 2020, respectively.

This resentment gained momentum in the 2016-2017 period when Jokowi was linked to Ahok, Jakarta’s controversial governor who happens to be both a Christian and an ethnic Chinese. The controversy surrounding Ahok at that time was transmuted into a momentum to mobilize the forces of sharia politics and reached its zenith on Aksi 212 (212 Action), which successfully ushered Ahok out of office in Jakarta’s Pilgub 2017.

These forces were made up of prominent figures such as Habib Rizieq Shihab of FPI, Zaitun Rasmin of Wahdah Islamiyah, Bachtiar Nasir of AQL Islamic Center, Amien Rais of Muhammadiyah, Haekal Hasan, Felix Siaw and other figures from PKS, HTI, Dewan Dakwah Islam Indonesia (Indonesian Islamic Da’wah Council), and so forth.

The alliance of these forces hoped to repeat the same success against Jokowi in Pemilu 2019. Despite identity politics becoming a central issue that polarized the nation, Jokowi came out on top and “forced” Shihab, a central figure in the 212 Action, into a self-imposed exile to Saudi Arabia to elude some legal troubles.

The departure of Shihab debilitated the capability of proponents of sharia politics to mobilize. He was away for quite an extended period of time (from 2017 to 2020) but continued to churn out narratives of Jokowi’s anti-Islam regime from Saudi, while waiting for an opportunity to return home and enjoy a hero’s embrace. However, upon his return, the prediction that he would emerge as a revolutionary figure did not materialize. Still, this does not necessarily mean that he cannot play a critical role to promote sharia politics in the run up to Pemilu 2024.

Currently, mass mobilization by proponents of sharia politics is not as massive as before, with the 212 Action’s alumni network losing their capability to achieve this. This is due to the combination of multiple factors. Firstly, as indicated above, the loss of a common enemy. Two, civil societies promoting tolerance and inclusivity provide a check to the proliferation of sharia politics. Three, the diverse backgrounds of the proponents of sharia politics undeniably affect their integrity as a group. Four, pandemic-related restriction also played a role in preventing mass mobilization. Mobilization of violence against the minorities, while not completely absent, may also face greater legal consequences.

Bachtiar Nasir: Where is He Now?

Although Shihab is arguably the most prominent figure of the 212 Action, he was not the only one responsible for its success. Another one whose contribution cannot be dismissed is Bachtiar Nasir.

The 212 Action started out in 2016 as a protest movement against Ahok, who was deemed to have committed blasphemy against Islam. At the time, Ahok was Jokowi’s successor as Jakarta’s governor following the latter’s clinching of the presidential seat in 2014. Ahok, who was close to Jokowi and hails from double minority background, was an easy target for Jokowi’s detractors. The political momentum for this mounted when Ahok’s speech in one occasion was distorted to portray it as blasphemous.

The pressure to bring Ahok to justice was legitimized when Majelis Ulama Indonesia (Indonesian Ulema Council – MUI) issued a fatwa affirming the blasphemy in Ahok’s speech. Energized by this, Nasir led the 212 Action by establishing Gerakan Nasional Pengawal Fatwa MUI (National Movement to Guard the MUI Fatwa – GNPF-MUI). Through this outfit, Nasir achieved the peak of his career as a Muslim activist for playing a central role in a national-scale movement and receiving massive support from the Muslim population.

Because of this, Nasir, instead of Shihab, is a better example today that exemplifies the potential of sharia politics in the upcoming general election. It should be noted, however, that this has nothing to do with their respective degree of influence – rather, it is an indication of their commitment towards the ideology of sharia. Here, Nasir is more committed to it than Shihab, who tends to be more pragmatic in his approach.

The loss of the Prabowo Subianto-Sandiaga Uno pair in Pemilu 2019, which was supported by Nasir and other 212 Action leaders, did not necessarily diminish the potential of sharia politics. Had the Prabowo Subianto-Sandiaga Uno pair won, its proponents such as Nasir would have enjoyed direct access to power that could facilitate their agenda to promote more sharia-tinged Perda.

Political transaction is unavoidable. We could only imagine what would happen if parties such as PKS gained seats in ministries and other paramilitary organization enjoyed special access to central government and the law enforcement. In such a scenario, the influence of sharia politics would have permeated multiple dimensions such as public education, state enterprise, social service and others.

But what happened was the complete opposite. Jokowi’s administration inserted religious moderation and counter-radicalization programs in its national development priorities. The aggressive counter-terrorism measures have pushed for similarly strict counter-radicalization and anti-intolerance measures in academic and government institutions. Moreover, the government also suspended HTI’s and FPI’s licenses to operate, thus undercutting important aspects that had served as enabling factors for the expansion of sharia politics in Indonesia.

Faced with this, Nasir and other figures shifted their operation from street politics to da’wah politics. However, without breakthrough issues such as Ahok’s case, mass groups such as the 212 Action are no longer as powerful as before. A year after Jakarta’s Pilgub 2017, prominent figures attempted to maintain the public’s investment in the movement by staging some movements such as Reuni Alumni 212 (212 Alumni Reunion). However, such movements grew smaller each time and lost its power to make headlines.

Nasir seems to have pulled himself away from the political scene and chose to return to the AQL Islamic Centre, a da’wah body he founded in the past. Recently he founded a national network of Quranic leaning called Peradaban Al-Qur’an (Qur’anic Civilization – Adabqu). He laid out his vision as follows:

“Perkumpulan Adabqu ini akan menjadi semacam ormas yang akan punya cabang di seluruh Indonesia. Draft sudah ada, setelah ini kita akan rakernas karena kita sudah punya cabang daerah dan setelah itu akan kita lantik pengurus-pengurus daerah.” (Adabqu will become a kind of mass organization with branches all over Indonesia. We have prepared a draft, after this we will hold a national meeting as we have already established regional branches and afterward, we will inaugurate regional administrators.)

Today, he prefers to travel to various places to spread da’wah with figures from Majelis Intelektual dan Ulama Muda Indonesia (Indonesian Young Scholars and Intellectuals Council – MIUMI) and other Islamist organizations. His name remained as a powerful magnet that can mobilize Muslims at least in the two years after Pemilu 2019. This is demonstrated in various programs such as Muslim United and Hijrah Fest, religious festivals that combined da’wah, entertainment and business activities. Nevertheless, festivals such as these were forced to stop during the Covid-19 pandemic and have not been revived until today.  

2024: Will Sharia Politics Make a Comeback?

At the time when confidence in sharia politics was high, especially following the massive turnout of the 212 Action and the victory of the Anies Baswedan-Sandiaga Uno pair in Jakarta’s Pilgub 2017, some Islamist figures placed a tall order as well. These figures propagated for the establishment of Dewan Revolusi Islam (Islamic Revolutionary Council), purported to be a shadow cabinet occupied by proponents of sharia implementation. Some figures from MIUMI including Nasir suggested Patungan Umat (Muslim community’s joint venture), a fundraising scheme aimed at financing pro-sharia presidential candidates.

This does not mean that these figures have become true democrats who genuinely hold democracy as the best political system. In many of their rhetoric, they tend to paint democracy as an un-Islamic system. However, their apprehension in democracy does not necessarily translate into a rejection of elections. In Jakarta’s Pilgub 2017, Pemilu 2019 and in other instances, they demonstrated their willingness to participate in the process if they see a benefit to their interest.

The idea of Patungan Umat displays the thin line between the commodification of sharia issues and genuine interest to utilize elections as a means to promote sharia. The proponents have tried to convince Muslims that the large Muslim population in the country constitutes an invincible economic force that could replace the oligarchic system in the country. Its logic is as follows: if each Muslim in Indonesia donates Rp100,000, the campaign would have raised trillions of rupiahs to create or buy a political party that could field pro-sharia presidential candidate in the next election.

Both Dewan Revolusi Islam and Patungan Umat are fundamentally unrealistic ideas, but they show the extent that the proponents are willing to act to overcome limitations and dilemmas in promoting sharia implementation in Indonesia.

In reality, the strength or the solidity of these proponents have displayed a declining trend in the last few years, not only because the pandemic has disrupted their activities, but also due to other factors.

Firstly, there is a declining trust in the consistency and credibility of the 212 Action leaders. At its peak, the 212 Action leaders capitalized on the potential of its massive following by establishing Koperasi 212 (212 Cooperation) through a similar Patungan Umat scheme. However, while it has opened many branches in various areas, Koperasi 212 ultimately failed due to transparency problems.

Narratives on sharia and ummatic economy are also hurt by multiple sharia-labelled investment scams and fund embezzlement by philanthropic bodies such as Aksi Cepat Tanggap (Fast Action Response – ACT). Besides, it has also been revealed that some fundraising schemes have channelled cash to transnational terrorist groups based abroad. Nasir himself was dragged into one such case, though legal process on this has stagnated.

Disappointment further escalated when Prabowo Subianto and Sandiaga Uno, the symbolic faces of their opposition against Jokowi, instead joined the cabinet. Developments such as these have instigated supporters of sharia politics to be more critical and forced religious groups such as the Salafis to switch from politics to da’wah and education lanes.

Secondly, there is no longer a common enemy the way that Ahok was. His double minority status and the controversy he triggered before Jakarta’s Pilgub 2017 played a big role in uniting various Muslims groups. The blasphemy issue successfully pumped-up substantial energy to mobilize the population across different groups. Similar passion could have been directed against Jokowi who was portrayed as anti-Islam, but the facts that Jokowi himself is a Muslim and close with the religious clerics make it difficult to paint him as everyone’s enemy. The campaign to reject “pemimpin kafir” (an infidel leader), which was applied to Ahok, cannot be hurled at Jokowi.

Thirdly, Jokowi employs effective incentive- and disincentive-based politics for segments of the Muslim population. Such a tactic imposes a big risk to anyone who dares to participate in opposition and radical movements. Most of the Islamists have chosen a conformist way to secure themselves from probable consequences, such as distancing themselves from banned groups like the FPI and HTI. Certainly, this hurts the cohesion of Islamists movements post-212 Action and debilitates their strength.  

Despite this, Pemilu 2024 would not be spared from sharia-related issues because sharia politics would not vanish from Indonesia’s political landscape. Besides, residues of identity politics from Pemilu 2019 and Jokowi’s harsh responses to the Islamists seem to render the distance between the two elections very short.

Leaders of the 212 Action have tried to maintain their energy and support to the group by sustaining narratives of Jokowi’s anti-Islam regime. If their continued opposition against Jokowi’s supposedly anti-Islam regime shared interests with the oligarchs and contesting parties in the next election, the nation would see a repeat of the sectarian polarization.

For some Islamists, Jokowi’s regime is not merely about challenges to their ideology, but also survival. This is evident, for example, to HTI which must face state repression in the last few years. Although the cancellation of its license does not necessarily prohibit its members to hold activities, HTI has essentially lost the space to mobilize and promote their agenda. HTI activists may still promote their caliphate propaganda and oppose the government in the digital space, but they can no longer operate under state protection and support. Even any form of connection with HTI is considered a liability to many Islamists groups now.

Apart from HTI, another Islamist group which is on survival mode is MMI, the organization founded by Abu Bakar Ba’asyir as a wing of his Darul Islam (Islamic State, not to be confused with Daesh) vision. The group is now facing a leadership crisis and a steep decline of influence. Disillusioned by MMI’s decline, many of its members have returned to extremist groups such as Jama’ah Islamiyah or Daesh, though they must risk government crackdown.

The prospect for sharia implementation is a driver for groups such as HTI and MMI, but this might not be the case for others. Vigilante groups such as FPI, in general, tend to be more pragmatic by treating sharia-based narratives and sectarianism as commodity to secure access to resources.

It can be argued that figures such as Nasir may see the benefits of sharia politics from two angles. On the one hand, it cannot be denied that he gains influence by propagating narratives on da’wah, sharia implementation and the promotion of Muslims’ interest.

After Pemilu 2019, Nasir embarked on a da’wah tour in various Indonesian cities, attended by MIUMI as well as 212 Action leaders and where fundraising activities were held in each venue. The author was present in one such event in Jogokaryan mosque, Yogyakarta, two years ago. During the half a day event, the organizer managed to collect infaq (donation) in the forms of cash, jewellery and commitments of property waqf that could amount to more than a billion rupiahs.

It is unclear if there is an audit to how the raised fund was spent, but Nasir convinced his congregants that the fund would only be used for da’wah activities, two of which central issues are the promotion of sharia politics and the opposition against Jokowi’s supposedly anti-Islam regime.

On the other hand, it is naïveté to consider figures like Nasir as political entrepreneurs lacking ideological foundation. MIUMI, where he received ideological trainings, is a platform supported by ideological figures and groups such as M. Natsir and Syarikat Islam, which ceaselessly campaigned for sharia implementation and Islamic state since Indonesia’s independence. Promotion of sharia politics would ultimately benefit the agenda of advancing this ideology as well.

Despite this, without incentives and shared interests from forces competing in Pemilu 2024, there is only a small probability that Nasir and remnants of the 212 Action would be seriously considered in the upcoming political contestation.

Part 1: Political Islam in Indonesia: Looking at Pemilu 2024 and Beyond

Part 3: The Recent Decline of Interfaith Dialogue in Indonesia: Causes and Challenges

Part 4: Identity Politics and Pilpres 2024: Learning from Aksi 212