Introduction

After years of debate, Indonesia’s military law, which was first enacted back in 2004, is officially revised. This process, however, seems rushed and lacks clarity.

The legislative discussion, which was not even a prioritised item in the national legislative programme, was conducted behind closed doors without adequate meaningful public participation, contrary to the prevailing norms in a democratic system.

The rushed deliberation process, coupled with the fact that it took place in a luxurious five-star hotel, raised suspicions about the government’s motives. This is compounded with the fact that officers of Tentara Nasional Indonesia (TNI) and Kepolisian Negara Republik Indonesia (Polri) were deployed to guard the House of Representatives compound, complete with dozens of tactical vehicles, a day before the plenary session.

Rushed Revision

Even more problematic is that the revision process was held in the midst of President Prabowo Subianto’s budget cuts to finance his ambitious programmes and promises.

The points included in the revised law are not entirely negative. For example, the addition of the phrase “military diplomacy” should be appreciated, as it justifies an increase in TNI’s international cooperation with its regional and international counterparts. This is especially important at a time when global security dynamics are highly uncertain, as signified by President Donald Trump’s mercurial policies and the response from the rest of the world.

Additionally, expanding TNI’s primary task to include operations other than war – such as cybersecurity operations and protection of overseas citizens – demonstrates TNI’s ability to adapt to the evolving nature of threats.

Concerns abound nonetheless. The expansion of TNI’s duties, such as in the field of counternarcotics, could easily overlap with the jurisdictions of Polri and Badan Narkotika Nasional (the National Narcotics Agency – BNN). Although counter-narcotics was finally excluded from the list of military operations other than war, BNN is still cited as one of the bodies that can be occupied by active TNI personnel. This is clearly contradictory and has opened the potential for multiple interpretations in the future.

There are also missed opportunities. The government, for instance, could have pushed for the establishment of a cyber force to complement the works of the army, navy and air force – an imperative in the wake of the hacking scandal targeting TNI’s Strategic Intelligence Agency. Additionally, the establishment of a space unit within the air force could improve TNI’s ability to safeguard Indonesia’s national airspace.

Controversies

Unfortunately, the focus of the law’s revision was not on the technical areas that would improve TNI’s professionalism and combat readiness.

One of the most controversial aspects of the revision is Article 47, which significantly expands TNI’s authority to place active personnel in civilian positions. The number of ministries and institutions that can be occupied by active TNI personnel has now increased from 10 to 14.

The government justified this by pointing out that several ministries and institutions, such as Badan Keamanan Laut (the Maritime Security Agency – Bakamla), Badan Nasional Penanggulangan Terorisme (the National Counter Terrorism Agency – BNPT) and others, have long been occupied by active TNI personnel.

Even though various government representatives have expressed assurances that the placement of active TNI personnel in civilian positions would be strictly regulated, the public needs to remain cautious, given that Prabowo ordered a management and business course for active duty soldiers to prepare them for roles in both state-owned and regional-owned enterprises.

Furthermore, the government’s one-sided claim that assigning active TNI personnel to civilian positions could alleviate human resource shortages is also questionable. This argument appears weak and suggests the government lacks a real solution to the surplus of TNI personnel.

Previous administrations explored various avenues to address this particular issue, such as the establishment of the Defence University and the expansion of TNI’s organisation. Prabowo has also pursued another option – increasing the number of TNI figures in his cabinet.

However, these solutions have often resulted in policies that contradict the principles of reform, such as placing high-ranking officers in non-military positions without removing their military status.

Furthermore, the government’s insistence on extending the age for active service is counterproductive. For one, this is pursued without instituting a moratorium on recruitment. Worse, it could afford Prabowo an undue influence, particularly over four-star generals. This appears to be politically motivated and could seriously hinder TNI’s meritocracy principle.

Challenges to Military Administration

In fact, even without the law revision, TNI personnel have been holding civilian positions for quite some time. As many as 2,569 active personnel are already serving in civilian roles, with 29 of them holding positions in ministries or institutions not stipulated under the old TNI law.

It is unfair that job opportunities available for civilians must shrink to accommodate TNI personnel who are stuck in their careers due to a surplus of military personnel. Evidently, this would also disrupt the career paths of civilian employees in the institutions they are serving.

Rather than revising the TNI law, it seems more urgent to revise the military court law in order to uphold equality before the law and ensure fair trials.

An ongoing problem is when active TNI personnel who hold civilian positions are involved in criminal offences—they are still processed in military courts, not public courts. This hampers the legal process because of the different characteristics between military and public courts, particularly in terms of independence, transparency and accountability.

The polemic between the Corruption Eradication Commission (KPK) and TNI regarding the arrest of the former head of Badan Nasional Pencarian dan Pertolongan (the National Search and Rescue Agency – Basarnas) offers a chaotic picture surrounding law enforcement on TNI personnel.

Meanwhile, military courts trying corruption cases involving TNI personnel do not apply as strict legal processes and pass more lenient sentences compared to those in the corruption courts.

The military criminal procedure law mentioned above is not the only problem; the military administrative procedure law is equally problematic. The main issue is the lack of procedural laws governing military administration and institutional structures to examine, address and settle disputes in this area.

Although the military court law mandates that such procedural laws be established through a government regulation within three years of the law’s enactment (the military court law was enacted in 1997), there has been a 25-year legal vacuum in this regard. This gap reveals a troubling reality: all TNI legal products cannot be challenged, leading to a system of impunity.

Conclusion

Despite the controversy, TNI remains the most trusted and popular in Indonesia. Many Indonesians view TNI as a versatile problem solver. This high public trust is due to the fact that TNI is considered capable or sufficiently distanced from political or civil affairs. For those who grew up under Suharto’s authoritarian regime, TNI’s involvement in socio-political affairs is also seen as necessary and natural.

However, if its role continues to expand, there is a fear that it would alienate this public trust, which could backfire on TNI itself.

This recent, heated public debate could have been avoided if the government had been more transparent about the revision process. The government’s response to civil society’s strong rejection, claiming that the draft being circulated was not the one under discussions, highlights its poor public communication and a lack of transparency—both of which go against the principles of meaningful public participation.

If the government is serious about enhancing TNI’s professionalism, there are more effective steps it could undertake. The proposed revision, which focuses on extending the service period of active TNI personnel and granting them access to civilian positions, is both a shortcut and a lazy solution.

Instead, the government should focus on the welfare of TNI soldiers and modernise its weaponry system. TNI’s performance allowance currently accounts for only 70% of salary, which is lower compared to other institutions like Polri (80%) or the Ministry of Finance (100%).

More pressing is the task to modernise TNI’s weaponry system, considering Indonesia’s failure to meet its Minimum Essential Forces target by the end of 2024.

As for the surplus of personnel, rather than expanding their authority to fill civilian roles, the government should implement a moratorium on TNI recruitment or at least review its current practices. Another option is to increase TNI participation in peacekeeping missions and send more personnel abroad for educational purposes.

Partnered Content

Assalamu’alaikum and greetings!

CCIGE is pleased to invite you to our upcoming Webinar Session via Zoom. Come and join us for an engaging and insightful discussion with Dr. Zouhir Gabsi. The session will be opened and moderated by Assoc. Prof. Dr. Danial Yusof (Director, CCIGE).

 Date: Thursday, April 10, 2025

 Time: 11:30 AM (Kuala Lumpur Time)

 Platform: Zoom

 Join Zoom Meeting:
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Please feel free to share this invitation. 

Introduction

Indonesia’s political landscape has solidified following major elections last year. President Prabowo Subianto has continued his predecessor’s political consolidation strategy of sporting a big coalition of parties in the parliament, thus almost effectively neutralising any potential opposition.

This has raised concerns about the weakening of the checks and balances system, the absence of alternative policy debates and accountability.

His ability to accommodate multiple political parties from various backgrounds, including various Islamic ones, influences the makeup of his big and fat cabinet. These Islamic parties have successfully secured ministerial positions despite their opposition of one another in pre-Prabowo years. They prioritise influence and political access to power and policy making rather than disputing issues of governance, indicating a conformity with pragmatic and transactional form of politics.

This article attempts to critically examine the dynamics and future trajectory of Islamic political parties.

Decline of Votes

In the 2024 general election, Partai Persatuan Pembangunan (PPP) only secured 3.87% of the votes, which effectively pushed them out of the legislative body for the first time (the parliamentary threshold is at 4%). Prior to this, Partai Bulan Bintang (PBB) was the last Islamic party that lost all their parliamentary seats, which happened in the 2009 election.

However, despite PPP’s decline, the remaining Islamic-based parties experienced a slight increase in votes. Partai Kebangkitan Bangsa (PKB) secured 11,72% of the votes, Partai Keadilan Sejahtera (PKS) gained 9,14% and Partai Amanat Nasional (PAN) earned 8,28%. These three parties now occupy 169 out of the available 580 seats.

The decreasing number of Islamic parties in Dewan Perwakilan Rakyat (DPR) could point to the dimming vibrancy of political Islam in the legislative body. This also proves that the majority of Muslim voters do not vote for Islamic parties, which comprise less than a third of all DPR seats.

For example, members of Nahdlatul Ulama (NU) prefer to vote for Partai Demokrasi Indonesia Perjuangan (PDI-P) and Prabowo’s Gerakan Indonesia Raya (Gerindra) over PPP or PKB, to which NU has historical affiliation and attachment. A reason for this is that nationalist parties like PDI-P has attracted more NU adherents by establishing Islamic wing organisations such as Baitul Muslimin Indonesia (BAMUSI).

Pragmatic Politics

Meanwhile, new Islamic parties such as Gelora Party and Ummat Party emerged, participated and failed in the last election. Like PBB, both parties obtained a very small fraction of votes (less than 1%). This seems to point out that the appetite for new Islamic parties, instead of the more established ones, is still very low.

Based on the past trends, it is almost impossible for new parties, including non-parliamentary ones, to get plenty of votes instantly. This explains why the parties’ elites shifted and adjusted their strategy in order to survive in the current landscape. 

For example, these non-parliamentarian Islamic parties pragmatically chose to foster an alliance with Prabowo’s Koalisi Indonesia Maju (Onward Indonesia Coalition – KIM), instead of improving the cadre and internal systems.

Elites of Gelora and PBB also campaigned for Prabowo, for which they were well rewarded with strategic positions in the cabinet. PBB’s Yusril Ihza Mahendra is now Coordinating Minister of Law and Human Rights. Gelora’s Anis Matta and Fahri Hamzah are both vice ministers in different portfolios (Foreign Affairs as well as Housing and Residential Area respectively).

This is despite their parties failing to pass the parliamentary threshold.

PKB’s pragmatism is also on full display, having joined Prabowo’s KIM that later became KIM Plus, despite previously backing his rival Anies Baswedan. Prabowo later teased the party for “returning to the right path” after their accession to his coalition.

PKB was later awarded two crucial positions. Its chairman Muhaimin Iskandar now serves as Coordinating Minister of People’s Empowerment while its executive Abdul Kadir Karding functions as Minister of Migrant Worker Protection.

Similarly, Prabowo’s loyalist PAN secured nine ministerial positions, whereas PKS, which joined under the KIM Plus arrangement, obtained one.

Securing a cabinet position is significant to these parties for multiple reasons.

Firstly, it accords access to state resources which, through various means, could be utilised to strengthen their base and finance operations such as future political campaigns. By controlling a ministry or a state institution, a political party has the ability to create and distribute jobs as well as projects that keep its internal members occupied.

Secondly, it allows parties to shape policies and control programmes that align with their political agenda. Moreover, a minister’s good performance will reflect positively on their party’s public image and credibility.

Thirdly, securing top ministerial position ensures a degree of political protection from legal scrutiny and law enforcement, although this may depend on that party’s relationship with coalition leaders and Prabowo himself.

All of these suggest that Islamic parties are moving in the same direction, further casting into question the purpose of the party’s Islamic ideology and identity. Evidently, what is relevant to them now are power, access to financial opportunities and bureaucratic connections. The line between Islamic and nationalist parties has thus become blurrier. 

This strategy to “play safe” clearly aims to avoid risks of becoming an opposition. It seems that to these parties, electoral survival and political influence outweigh ideological rigidity. Consequently, however, it also contributes towards the disappearance of diverse voices and views in the political landscape, thus a symptom of Indonesia’s declining democracy.

Status Quo Yes, Opposition No

In February 2025, student protests and demonstrations erupted across big cities in Indonesia. Under the banner of Indonesia Gelap (Indonesia in Darkness), such demonstrations aimed to express public dissatisfaction with Prabowo’s policies, such as the free meal programme, budget cuts and many more. Some students were arrested by local police while others were allowed by local governments to share their opinion.

These protests reflect the public’s growing frustration towards the perceived government’s failure to deliver goods and services. Yet, despite their magnitude, Islamic-based parties remained silent.

In the last decade, PKS had actively positioned itself as the primary opposition. They had challenged government policies and advocated for the needs and aspirations of the conservative Muslims, its vote base.

However, PKS’ recent reluctance to criticise the government shows a shift in the political dynamic, one that marks the erosion of the checks and balances system as alternative voices become restricted.

Likewise, the largest Islamic organisations, NU and Muhammadiyah, might replicate the attitude of these Islamic parties, contributing to a homogenised political discourse in which dissenting views struggle to gain traction. A key figure in Muslimat NU, Khofifah Indar Parawansa, recently stated that NU will continue being a loyal supporter of Prabowo’s administration.

This situation raises concern about why more religious elites are taking part in maintaining the status quo rather than becoming an opposition.

Ideally, an opposition serves the fundamental role in any democratic system by providing scrutiny, offering policy alternatives and acting as a counterbalance to the government. Without it, policies risk being unchecked, leading to lack of accountability and potential overreach.

Conclusion

All in all, the stance of Islamic-based parties today is clear: they are close to the government and reluctant to be an opposition. Consequently, they cannot be relied on to express alternative voices and provide checks and balances against the government. This forces the people to take to the streets to express their dissatisfaction and dislike towards the government’s policies. If this trend continues, Indonesia’s democratic space would continue to shrink under the weight of political conformity, while demonstrations and online protests would become more frequent.

Actors in the current political landscape can be said to adopt the “wait and see” approach to Prabowo’s policies. It remains to be seen how Islamic political parties would react to key government agendas and legislative priorities, especially if these could affect their chance at getting re-elected in the next contestation.

Agriculture has long been the backbone of Southeast Asia, contributing significantly to food security, economic stability, and rural livelihoods. The ASEAN region, rich with diverse agricultural practices and resources, faces common challenges such as climate change, urbanization, market volatility, and policy discrepancies. As countries navigate these complexities, understanding the socio-economic dimensions of agriculture within the ASEAN context becomes crucial for fostering resilience, sustainability, and collective growth.

In light of these challenges, Yayasan Strategik Lestari (YSL) and stratsea are honored to create a platform for dialogue and knowledge exchange to achieve three primary aspirations: to cultivate a society that understands international relations, to identify Malaysia’s role in addressing agricultural socio-economic issues through expert perspectives, and to gather recommendations for further research and policy benchmarking.

The webinar will delve into critical questions such as:

• What are the socio-economic dynamics shaping ASEAN’s agricultural sector?

• How can collaboration among ASEAN countries enhance agricultural productivity and resilience?

• What policy interventions are necessary to address the impacts of climate change and market volatility on the region’s food security?

• How can Southeast Asia harness its agricultural diversity for mutual benefit and sustainable development?

Webinar Details

Date: Friday, 11 April 2025

Time: 09:30 AM (Indonesia/Thailand) / 10:30 AM (Malaysia/Philippines/Singapore)

Speaker Details

Dr. Dona Laily Wahyuning is a prominent scholar in agribusiness management, specializing in agricultural competitiveness, trade dynamics, and rural socioeconomics. As Head of the Agribusiness Management Laboratory at Universitas Pembangunan Nasional Veteran Jawa Timur, her research offers valuable insights into Indonesia’s agricultural landscape and its regional implications.

Among her notable works is the analysis of rice farming competitiveness in Bojonegoro Regency, which explores strategies to enhance productivity and resilience in one of Indonesia’s key rice-producing areas. She has also examined factors influencing rice imports in Indonesia, shedding light on trade policies and food security challenges. Additionally, her study on the competitiveness of Indonesian cloves compared to Tanzania and Madagascar provides critical perspectives on global spice markets and Indonesia’s position within them.

Dr. Dona’s research reflects a deep commitment to strengthening agricultural resilience and market performance, making her a valuable voice in advancing sustainable agricultural development across ASEAN.

Introduction

Indonesians have a popular saying about misjudging other people: kukira cupu, ternyata suhu (I thought [they are] inept, turns out [they are] experts). This adage is perfect for understanding the politics of pesantrenin the current political and digital landscapes.

For decades, Indonesianists have tended to put pesantrenin the periphery of national politics. Clifford Geertz, for instance,depicted kiai – leaders of these institutions –as cultural brokers, normally functioning as a translator of global and national vocabularies to local constituents. This localised and apolitical strategy was particularly effective in enduring the systematic oppression of Suharto’s regime against the Muslim population during the New Order era.

However, in contemporary times, there are traceable shiftsthat should raise scrutiny of whether this traditional role of kiaiis still relevant, considering many of them have become prominent players in national politics. This evidently places the institution of pesantren in an awkward position.

In other words, are kiai inept or experts in contemporary Indonesian politics?

Recent Trends

In the past few years, we have seen how kiai – and inadvertently the pesantren they are managing – play a central role in political contestations.

The victory of Ridwan Kamil-Uu Ruzhanul Ulum in the West Java 2018 Gubernatorial Election was of note. While Ridwan Kamil was quite popular in his own right for his creative movement, Uu benefitted from the political support of rural Muslims in West Java due to his status as the grandson of the founder of Pondok Pesantren Miftahul Huda in Tasikmalaya.

Former president Joko “Jokowi” Widodo replicated the same formula by picking Ma’ruf Amin, a senior kiai, as his running mate in the 2019 Presidential Election. While in most cases the support from kiai is subtle, Jokowi’s presidency showed a more coherent form of political participation of kiai in national politics.

In his final months, Jokowi even signed a presidential decree on mining concessions that enabled religious organisations – including pesantren – to profit from the community-based mining industry. Some politicians consider this as a payback from Jokowi for these organisations’ support of the Prabowo Subianto-Gibran Rakabuming Raka pair.

Meanwhile, President Prabowo appointed Gus Miftah as a Special Envoy for Religious Tolerance and Religious Infrastructure Development, a central position equal to a minister. This is yet another proof that religious leaders are now key actors in national politics, despite his very short stint in the position due to his derogatory comment against an iced tea seller that sparked a scandal.

Against this backdrop, a critical question arises. Even if kiai have become prominent political actors, have their santri benefitted equally?

Offline Life

At least two interesting events demonstrate Jokowi’s acknowledgement of the significance of santri. Firstly, in 2015 Jokowi declared 22 October as Hari Santri Nasional (National Day of Santri). Secondly, on 1 August 2024, amid all the public outcry regarding Indonesia’s democratic decline, Jokowi-Ma’ruf Amin held a mass prayer in the National Palace where all elites and government officials were required to wear the outfit of santri.

But these bear little significance to the development of santri. Unfortunately, their political participation remains limited owing to limited access to byproducts of democratisation and modernisation in Indonesia, which include the Internet and advanced technology.

My doctoral research in Miftahul Huda and Cipasung in Tasikmalaya shows that santri and pesantren continue to be influenced by traditional and rural attitudes in academic pursuit.

This is exemplified by the enduring practice to sustain prolonged, offline academic learning and training in pesantren. The reason given is mass media and ICT continue to be perceived as a weapon of cultural imperialism, a symptom of the larger urban-rural divide that will be explored below.

Furthermore, pesantren maintain the traditional mode of teaching, in which santri are required to study within close proximity of an ustadz or kiai for a long period of time. The prevailing view is that such a practice would confer barakah (blessing) that could lead santri to a fruitful and successful life.

The fact that each santri typically devotes three to 12 years of religious study full-time means that they also spend a prolonged period of time learning under pesantren’s traditional mode of teaching. While products of modernity and globalisation are frowned upon, santri nonetheless lose the opportunity to construct their political interest and worldview due to limited exposure to national and global affairs.

In contrast to all these, urban Muslims have the flexibility to attend religious sermons whenever they wish, including even via online methods. Their different lifestyle also means they can choose to pursue religious studies and interests part-time, instead of dedicating the majority of their focus and energy to these.

Consequences

If kiai insist on maintaining this offline mode of learning, it could contribute to further alienation of santri from prevailing societal discourses that typically circulate through online platforms. Two consequences are possible.

Firstly, the lack of digital access in these institutions could be harmful to santri’s future mobility in all aspects of their lives. With the looming impact of artificial intelligence in education, santri might find themselves left further behind their peers who go to conventional schools.

Secondly, santri would become politically illiterate, which would impact their strategic position as voters and as a group that represents certain political interests. In West Java alone, the Ministry of Religious Affairs counted that there were 1,054,562 santriin the 2022/2023 academic year. This is a significant figure, and yet one that various Islamic political parties cannot benefit from, as santri are not exposed to different political discourses that spread online. Worse, in elections, santri are usually expected to cast their ballots for candidates approved by their kiai, further diminishing their capability as a political actor. This would lead to a political Islam that is less vibrant despite Indonesia’s label as a “democratic” nation.

Furthermore, it is unclear how santri – in their politically diminished state – have contributed to the overall votes of Islamic political parties in national-level elections since 1999. Until 2024, these parties consistently failed to dominate the polls, despite the sizeable number of santri nationwide. This beckons further questions as to the cohesiveness of Indonesia’s political Islam as a whole, one that demands further study into santri’s voting patterns.

Urban-Rural Tension

Santri’s relative distance from modern lifestyle can be explained by the underlying tension between urban and rural Muslims, which became increasingly apparent following the emergence of Islamic revival among urban Muslims in the 1990s.

It is the byproduct of three decades of cultural politics and uneven development during the Suharto era. To secure his position against the challenge of political Islam, the ex-president employed strategies to maintain the secular and apolitical tendency of urban Muslims. The result was a systemic sidelining of Islam.

In the public space, these include policies to ban hijab in academic institutions and the mainstreaming of American popular culture in Rajawali Citra Televisi Indonesia (RCTI) TV station, in an attempt to depoliticise the youth.

Politically, his vehicle Golongan Karya (Golkar) also pushed aside Partai Persatuan Pembangunan (the United Development Party) as the only Islamic-leaning political party. Suharto also dissociated himself from the two biggest Islamic organisations, Nahdlatul Ulama (NU)and Muhammadiyah.

Despite this repression, rural Muslims and pesantren communities (which are typically situated outside urban centres) managed to remain as pockets where Islamic conservatism could be practised and expressed through social and cultural means.

The digitalisation in the 2000s brought about change, with Islamic finance, banking and fashion gaining popularity among the urban middle class. Driven by the democratisation and liberalisation of media, this group, which has been exposed to the American popular culture, began to synthesise modernity, religion and political interests in their worldview.

The same could not be said to rural Muslim and pesantren communities, however, where adoption of modern articles, technology, outlook and even behaviour was found distasteful. This is the same worldview that continues to influence the way pesantren are run these days, with profound consequences to santri’s digital access.

Conclusion

Returning to the popular adage of kukira cupu, ternyata suhu, it is fundamentally unfair that while kiai are the “experts” and play central roles in national politics, santri systematically remain as “inept” in national politics due to lack of exposure to societal discourses. They are also still subject to political mobilisation by their kiai.

This piece offers some constructivist answers as to why kiai insist that santri must be kept at an arm’s length from modern technologies, which thus distinguishes pesantren from other academic institutions that have been touched by modernity. While this retains the charm and appeal of pesantren to some, it could bear some consequences to santri’s political outlook and Indonesia’s political Islam in general.

Introduction

In recent weeks, Indonesia has seen the emergence of a narrative on the rise of Hizbut Tahrir Indonesia (HTI) after its legal entity was revoked by the government in 2017. This began when a solidarity action against Palestine was held in various Indonesian cities on 2 February 2025.

Although the group that staged this action did not carry HTI’s name, the group’s employment of HTI’s characteristic black and white flag, as well as espousal of such jargons as caliphate and jihad, clearly show HTI’s remnant being the driving force behind this action.

Consequently, mainstream media highlighted the issue of HTI again, focusing on its ideological threats, political motives and transnational character.

Since shortly before its disbandment in 2017, the government has generally portrayed HTI as a threat to the state and nation, one that carries a subversive ideology.

This is a shift from the government’s stance when HTI came about in early 2000s. Some HTI figures even also became board members of the Indonesian Ulema Council. Clearly, resistance was in short supply back then, if any at all.

So, what happened in 2017, the year HTI was banned?

To recap, various academics have explained this harsh policy against HTI as a form of revenge for the group’s involvement in the anti-Basuki Tjahaja Purnama (Ahok) movement during his blasphemy case. Such a fate befell not only HTI, but also Front Pembela Islam (Islam Defenders Front), which former leader has shown signs of stirring as well.

Narrative of Hostility

Despite the regime change, there remains the narrative that portrays HTI as a radical, anti-Pancasila and pro-caliphate group, including in the mainstream media.

This is more or less the same as the narrative used to describe the movement in various countries such as those in Europe, the Middle East, the United States and Australia. This narrative has been utilised as a legitimising factor to dissolve or ban this movement around the world.

However, such narrative also ignores the movement’s resilience, evidenced by its enduring remnants and covert activities to advance its agenda of caliphate and oppose the existing system, albeit without using its official name.

Several factors explain this resilience against authoritarian and repressive political environment.

The first is internal factors. HTI is able to build its cadres by inculcating robust ideological roots juxtaposed against the problems of the ummah and the urgency to establish caliphate as a remedy. This ideological galvanisation strengthens the bonds between members as well as allows them to operate easily under various banners and conditions.

HTI’s resilience is even more remarkable considering its relatively small number of members, compared to mass organisations such as Nahdlatul Ulama and Muhammadiyah. The members’ militancy has enabled this movement to influence the public narrative at the national level. Various mobilisations have been carried out to respond to an issue, at both national and international stages, through online media or various actions and forums – the aforementioned pro-Palestine action was just one example.

The second is structural factor. This includes global and national political conditions in Indonesia.

In the global context, Hizbut Tahrir and other Islamic movements have advocated various issues affecting the global Muslim population, including poverty, foreign intervention, the Zionist occupation of Palestine, and the impact of global capitalism on Muslims.

In the local context, HTI occupies a comfortable seat in the middle of the Indonesian public by highlighting public concerns such as corruption or abuse of power, economic disparities, and various government policies that are not pro-people.

Even though its messages carry the same DNA as those espoused by other social movements criticising the government, HTI packages all of its criticism of the government under an Islamic framework to make its discourse more accessible to the Indonesian Muslims.

The third is communication acumen. HTI is also able to attract the public because of its expertise in utilising social media through various platforms. It increases its appeal with attractive packaging that suits the needs of the public today, including the youth.

This is what mainstream Islamic groups in Indonesia do not have, which largely still dwell on traditional ways of undertaking da’wah. In addition, these groups mainly focus on social issues such as education, health or religion. Rarely do they incorporate national political issues in their campaigns.

The same applies to both nationalist and religious political parties, whose political functions are not optimised to represent the voice of the Indonesian public. In fact, these parties appear usually only engage the voters in political contestations, during which they churn out promises that would eventually disappoint their own voters.

This is a niche that HTI – a banned organisation – is able to exploit, a void that mass organisations and political parties fail to close or even help to create.

All of these factors explain the movement’s resilience despite all the negative narratives that circulate about it.

In addition, efforts to stigmatise HTI – as carried out by the state of Nahdlatul Ulama activists – seem to bear little impact. Narratives attacking the idea of caliphate may not be effective especially when there is a recent shift to acknowledge that caliphate is a legitimate political system in a Muslim society. This idea gained traction when the Indonesian Ulema Council issued a fatwa in 2021 stating that the caliphate is part of Islamic teachings that should not be negatively stigmatised.

The Need for a New Approach

In the global Islamic politics, a state’s response to Islamic political movements commonly uses two approaches: confrontation and accommodation.

The first approach views Islamic political movements as an enemy – consequently, the only way to deal with them is to eradicate them.

The second approach tries to embrace these Islamic groups and invite them formally into the state apparatus. However, this second approach is criticised as merely a tool to tame Islamic political movements, forcing them to compromise with secular-liberal ideology and ultimately aiming to eradicate their ideology, not unlike the first strategy.

There is, however, an alternative option labeled the new convergence approach that acknowledges the existence of various Islamic political movements with all of their different ideologies. The new convergence approach argues that instead of seeing the political Islam as a threat, this ideology should be seen as a critique of the liberal ideology, especially owing to the many problems that governments functioning under liberal tenets are facing. It suggests that solutions offered by the Islamic framework should be considered by these governments.

There are examples for this: Some welfare states in Europe have incorporated aspects of leftist ideology in an attempt to manage groups affiliated with this.

In the context of HTI, the government adopted the accommodative approach from 2001 to 2017, though this was later reversed as the government pursues a policy of dissolution and stigmatisation.

To be fair, it is understandable that HTI’s call for caliphate could be detrimental to Indonesia’s democratic system and the nationalism of its people. Thus, when triggered by HTI’s involvement in the anti-Ahok movement, the government opted for the confrontational approach in its handling of the movement.

This, however, has not stopped HTI’s activities. Its da’wah and political engagements has continued to grow and spread in various levels of the society even as Indonesia’s political and economic conditions deteriorate. Worse, the repressive policy contributed to the decline of the quality of Indonesian democracy, which of course is more detrimental to Indonesia’s image globally.

As an alternative, the government may consider the new convergence approach in managing HTI, perceiving its messages as both a challenge and an opportunity to address the current condition in Indonesia. The process of acceptance and rejection of HTI’s ideas depends on the dialectic that occurs in society and the government’s response to these ideas. 

Such an approach has a precedent in Indonesia’s political history, such as the of the formation of the Indonesian state and the adoption of Pancasila as the basis of the state. These two were the outcome of a cross-ideological compromise and negotiation between the Islamic and nationalist groups. Furthermore, various policies and regulations in Indonesia have also adopted aspects of the Islamic economy including Islamic banking, waqf and sharia pawnshop.  

Therefore, there is nothing inherently wrong with accepting parts of demands by groups such as HTI. Equally, there is also nothing wrong with including ex-HTI figures in policy discussion as well, especially if the aim is to vanquish deep-seated problems such as corruption.

Conclusion

In managing HTI, the government needs to reconsider continuing its repressive policy by focusing on solving the structural problems that occur in Indonesia to increase the public trust. On the other hand, HTI’s ideological narratives need to be responded to with counter-narratives that aim to resolve Indonesia’s problem realistically.

If the government continues its approach in securitising HTI, more people will only flock to this movement. Therefore, the government needs to reconsider the approach taken to face the ideological challenges of HTI more carefully for the benefit of the Indonesian political future.

Introduction

On the 78^th day of his presidency, President Prabowo Subianto launched his populist, flagship programme that featured as a key promise in his campaign: Makan Bergizi Gratis (Free Nutritious Meal – MBG). This programme has received strong support from a significant majority of the population (with more than 80% of approval rate), placing it as a promising political asset for Prabowo.

However, there are growing concerns aboutits lack of transparency and inadequate preparation.

If the president aims to capitalise this programme to maintain his popularity – and potentially extend his presidency to a second administration – he needs to adopt a paradigm shift in designing the programme. Prabowo must prioritise transparency, primarily by ensuring that every document, guideline and policy related to the MBG are prepared properly and made accessible to the public.

Equally important is how he manages the preparation of this programme in detail. As the saying goes, “the devil is in the details”.

Without adhering to these two principles, MBG is at risk of failing to achieve its ambitious goal of catering to 81 million beneficiaries, thus undermining Prabowo’s credibility and political stature going forward.

Massive Budget, Minimal Clarity

Some Rp100 million saved from the recent budget cut was channeled instead towards MBG, raising the total budget to Rp171 trillion rupiah. It is more than the budget allocated for the Ministry of Defense.

Given its budget size, it has thus become everyone’s interest to monitor its implemention and ensure that the massive fund is not misappropriated. Unfortunately, the current MBG modus operandi relies heavily on verbal instructions and lacks clear written guidelines, detailed work plans, visions, or other technical instructions.

Such situation leaves the public in the dark and renders the program vulnerable to mismanagement and potential corruption. This has contributed to problems such as spoiled or even uncooked food served to students.

This is why transparency is paramount. Undang-Undang Keterbukaan Informasi Publik Nomor 14 Tahun 2008 (Law on Public Information Disclosure) mandates that government agencies must provide information to the public as long as it does not involve threats to national security, defence, state secrets or matters of personal privacy.

None of these exceptions relate to MBG. That being said, when important documents or guidelines are seemingly hidden (if any), the programme has not only violated the aforementioned law but also eroded public trust at a time when their support for the programme’s implementation is high.

Although the MBG programme was initiated by Prabowo, its position as a public good ultimately makes it belong to all Indonesian people. Allowing the public access to guidelines and action plans would enable them to provide constructive input, contribute creative ideas and enhance the programme’s implementation.

It is thus strange why the government is not transparent about this programme.

The Risks of Poor Planning

Indeed, the MBG programme is projected to yield economic benefits. It is estimated to boost GDP growth by 0.06%, increase jobs by 0.19% and grow income for MSMEs by 33.68%,

However, rushing the implementation of any government programme without adequate planning can lead to serious setbacks. Effective risk management, detailed impact analysis and a clear, step-by-step strategic plan – including technical instructions and contingency measures – are all critical components in programme as big as this.

Unfortunately, the programme’s obscurity makes it difficult to monitor these processes, which could lead to some serious problems. These are not mere hypothetical risks – evidence from other parts of the world suggests that negative outcomes may very well occur.

In Brazil, a free meal programme has been troubled by bureaucracy, weak accountability and unclear spending. This has led to financial waste on one hand and substandard food quality on the other. In India, corruption and mismanagement have manifested in disturbing ways. Teachers and meal workers manipulated attendance records to divert food supplies; a school principal in Firozabad embezzled some of the funds and; a tragic incident in Bihar in 2013 resulted in the deaths of 23 children due to contaminated food in 2013.

Latest report in Indonesia underscores these risks. While the programme is designed to provide meals that meet 35% of the daily nutritional requirements (Angka Kecukupan Gizi – AKG), only 15% of options in the menu (five out of 29) have met this standard.

Furthermore, protein analysis reveals that 48% of the sampled meals contain excessive protein, 34% fall below the target and only 17% meet the recommended range of 33-36.4% of daily protein intake. These alarming findings demonstrate that even the most well-intentioned social welfare programmes can deviate significantly from their goals the preparation phase is not conducted well.

Strengthening this suspicion is the perception that MBG was “designed by running”, which implies that its concept was not thoroughly developed before its launch. Such mismanagement threatens MBG to meet its original goals while also adding further stress to the country’s coffers. The programme, as it stands, could end up being a huge waste of money with unclear outcomes.

In light of those potential threats, the establishment of Badan Gizi Nasional (National Nutrition Agency – BGN) in 2024 was actually intended to regulate the entire implementation and supervision of MBG.

However, BGN has not demonstrated its capability to address the problems. It is very concerning that there is still minimal information available to the public regarding BGN’s governance, work plan, vision, mission, master document, guidelines and technical instructions. Its website fails to provide meaningful detailed information, leaving citizens uncertain about its true direction.

In other words, an institution created to address MBG’s problems is also suffering from the same problems. Even after more than a month of operation, the public remains uninformed about the agency’s processes and progress. At the very least, the creation of an online dashboard could facilitate easier monitoring and help bridge some existing information gaps.

This situation is particularly frustrating due to the strong public support for MBG. The public cannot be content with just snippets of the programme’s information provided through verbal testimonies or short articles. Furthermore, the programme’s abnormal budget raises a red flag since the programme is vulnerable to corrupt practices, especially in the procurement process.

It is crucial to remember that government procurement in Indonesia is historically one of the most corruption-prone sectors. Data from Lembaga Kebijakan Pengadaan Barang/Jasa Pemerintah (LKPP) and KPK reveals that between 2004 and 2023, there are 339 documented cases of corruption related to procurement activities. The findings of Indonesia Corruption Watch (ICW) indicate that of the 2,227 corruption cases handled by the law enforcement, 49.1% of them were cases related to the procurement of goods and services. These have incurred losses reahed up to Rp 5.3 trillion.

Conclusion

While the MBG programme enjoys overwhelming public support and potentially delivers socioeconomic benefits, its current implementation appears flawed by a lack of transparency and inadequate preparation. It thus risks becoming a waste of public funds with unclear results.

The government should establish clear guidelines and transparent information including a detailed work plan and a strong oversight mechanism to ensure the programme’s sustainability. Citizens must also be invited to participate in the monitoring process and hold authorities accountable for errors. With what is currently visible, we can imagine that the MBG program is at risk of being a huge waste of public funds, potentially reaching hundreds of trillions of rupiah,

For Prabowo, this programme should not only be seen as a mainstay political asset but also a test of his commitment to effective, accountable and transparent governance. If he continues to ignore the need for thorough preparation and full transparency, it will certainly endanger the success of MBG, which will also have a negative impact on his administration.

Introduction

In the age of mercantilism, economic dominance was not merely about trade—it was enforced through brute military strength.

European empires deployed gunboats to the coasts of nations, coercing them into opening markets, signing lopsided treaties or even submitting to colonial rule.

The Opium Wars of the 19^th century stand as a stark example—when China resisted British trade demands, gunboats rained fire upon its ports, forcing the Middle Kingdom to cede Hong Kong and open its economy on unfavourable terms.

Power was exercised through the barrel of a cannon while nations bent under the weight of superior firepower.

Today, the battlefield has shifted, but the objective remains the same: influence, control and dominance. Gunboats no longer dictate policies; instead, social media does.

The rise of digital platforms has created a new arsenal of influence operations—one where narratives, not naval fleets, determine the direction of entire countries. Algorithms replace admirals and viral trends become the new cannonballs.

Those who can shape public opinion can shape long-lasting policies. No warships needed; no shots fired—yet the effects can be far more enduring. A single viral campaign can sway elections, overturn governments or redefine national identities.

The ASEAN Landscape

In ASEAN, where youth make up a significant portion of the population and digital adoption is at an all-time high, this reality is unfolding at an unprecedented pace.

From likes to legislation, the power once wielded by empires through brute force is now in the hands of millions of young, digitally empowered individuals. What they believe, share and push into the mainstream today will become the policies that shape their nations tomorrow.

ASEAN’s economic rise has been nothing short of remarkable. In 2024, the region contributed 7.2% of the global economy and was responsible for 8.6% of the world’s GDP growth over the past decade.

With a combined GDP projected to reach US$4.25 trillion by 2025, ASEAN is on the verge of surpassing major economies and cementing itself among the world’s top five economic powerhouses.

This growth is not merely a statistic—it is reshaping global supply chains, investment flows and economic alliances.

Unlike the aging economies of Europe, where labour shortages are becoming a structural problem, ASEAN enjoys a demographic advantage. With a median age of just 31, its workforce is young, vibrant and digitally connected.

The contrast with Europe, where the median age is over 40, is stark. While Western nations grapple with declining birth rates and economic stagnation, ASEAN’s youths are driving an unprecedented wave of innovation, entrepreneurship and consumption. This demographic dividend is fuelling the rise of a powerful middle class, which is expected to reach 350 million people by 2030—larger than the entire population of the United States today.

These are all concrete indicators which enable the possibility of a digital revolution which squarely puts power and influence in the hands of the digitally savvy young generation.

Youth’s Digital Revolution

Over the past decade, the digital landscape in the ASEAN region has undergone a significant transformation, marked by substantial increases in internet access, mobile phone usage and social media engagement among young people.

In 2013, the average internet penetration rate in ASEAN was approximately 34%. By 2021, this figure had more than doubled, reaching 73%. This surge reflects the region’s rapid digital adoption and infrastructure development.

A study conducted in 2019 revealed that 97.5% of Thai high school students owned smartphones, while in Indonesia between 2013 and 2018, smartphone ownership among young adults (ages 18-34) surged from 17% to 66%.

To compound on to this trend, the average youths spend close to five hours a day on their smartphones, thus making them the most digitally reliant generation.

The omnipresence of youths on social media has blunt the influence of mainstream media which in nascent democracies are largely controlled by the government or its cronies.

In Malaysia, for over six decades, the Barisan Nasional (BN) coalition maintained political dominance, partly by controlling mainstream media narratives. The BN government either directly controlled the mainstream media through its ownership of news agencies like The Star and Bernama, or indirectly through strict media licensing laws that promote censorship.

Billionaires linked to the government through monopoly-like multibillion dollar concessions also owned other major media houses.

However, in the lead-up to the 14^th general election (GE14), social media platforms emerged as vital arenas for political discourse, especially among the younger demographic, thus breaking the long-held information monopoly.   

A study analysing 187 news pieces from six online news platforms during the 11-day campaign period highlighted that social media was effectively utilised to influence public perception.

Key issues such as the Goods and Services Tax (GST), the 1Malaysia Development Berhad (1MDB) scandal, and the reputations of political candidates were extensively discussed online, contributing to a wave of political dissent and activism.

This online engagement played a crucial role in shifting public sentiment, leading to BN’s unprecedented electoral defeat.

This was particularly evident on the night before voting, whereby the prime minister candidate for the opposition directly communicated to the public via a Facebook-live event, a feat that was viewed by more than 220,000 people and reached 10 million people in less than 24 hours.

This last figure was more than half of the voting population. Comparably, the then sitting prime minister, who enjoyed the full backing of the media establishment, only garnered 15,000 audience while conducting a similar event.

Knowing that the government had a solid grip on the media establishment, the opposition then actively mobilised the youths to showcase the opposition videos to their parents and grandparents via WhatsApp groups, or in-person when they meet to cast their votes. This merged the influence of social media and the youths to successfully break the government-controlled information monopoly, thus leading to a historic election win.

The same trend could be seen in Thailand. The Move Forward Party’s (MFP) rise in Thailand’s 2023 general election is a testament to the power of social media and youth-driven political engagement in disrupting traditional power structures.

Winning 151 seats, the MFP effectively leveraged digital platforms to bypass mainstream media controls and mobilise grassroots support. On election day alone, the party was mentioned over 245,932 times across social media, with post-election engagement reaching 83.4 million interactions, 70% higher than any other party.

This surge in online activism translated into real political momentum, particularly among Thailand’s younger generations. Of the 52.3 million eligible voters, nearly 44% belonged to Gen Z (18-26 years old) and millennials (27-42 years old)—the demographic that overwhelmingly backed the MFP’s progressive policies.

Their engagement contributed to a historic 75.22% voter turnout, one of the highest in Thai electoral history. Through a combination of digital mobilisation, targeted messaging and political activism, the MFP demonstrated how social media can break conventional information monopolies, empowering young voters to reshape national politics despite institutional resistance.

The Dark Side of Social Media

Social media in the hands of the youths can also be a double-edged sword. It can empower the people, but it can also be weaponised to deceive them. Nowhere is this more evident than in the whitewashing of corruption and dictatorship.

In the Philippines, the Marcos family turned social media into a propaganda machine, rewriting history and painting the brutal Marcos dictatorship as a “golden age”. YouTube and Facebook were flooded with revisionist content, downplaying human rights abuses and glorifying an era of plunder and oppression. This relentless online misinformation campaign worked—Marcos Jr. rode the wave of digital deception all the way to the presidency.

In Malaysia, Najib Razak, convicted for his role in the 1MDB scandal, used social media to rebuild his image. His “Bossku” persona on Facebook and Instagram transformed him from a disgraced leader into a man of the people. He posted selfies. He cracked jokes. He played the victim. Suddenly, he was not a kleptocrat anymore—he was a hero to many.

This is the terrifying power of social media. It does not just shape the present—it rewrites the past.

In the digital age, the erasure and rewriting of history through social media not only deceives the present but also imperils the integrity of future generations’ understanding of truth.

The youth of today are unshackled from the past. They do not carry the weight of old political battles or the emotional baggage of previous generations. History, to them, is not lived experience—it is content they consume online.

Just like how Marcos Jr. benefitted from a rewritten past, we see the same phenomenon in Malaysia with Anwar Ibrahim’s Reformasi movement. In 1998, Reformasi was a fiery rebellion against Mahathir Mohamad’s rule, marked by street protests, mass arrests and cries for justice.

For those who lived through it, Anwar was either a hero or a threat—there was no in-between. But for today’s youth, 1998 is not a memory, it is a hashtag. They see Reformasi not through the lens of those who fought for it, but through the narratives being shaped today.

The same Anwar who was once the face of resistance is now the prime minister, navigating compromises and coalitions. For the youth, the past is not set in stone—it is fluid, shaped by what trends, what gets shared and what is most convincing in the digital age.

Indonesia, ASEAN’s most populous democracy, is no different. President Prabowo Subianto’s transformation is nothing short of a political masterclass in digital rebranding. Once a controversial military figure, even banned from entering the United States, he is now Indonesia’s president—winning outright in the first round with 58.6% of the vote.

How? Social media magic. His campaign deployed the gemoy strategy, turning him from a feared general into an adorable, meme-worthy grandfather figure. Viral videos showed him dancing with his cat Bobby, AI-generated animations softened his image and TikTok flooded with content making him look fun, lovable, and approachable.

This was not just a campaign—it was a full-blown digital personality makeover. And it worked. Youth voters, who once saw him as a relic of the past, now saw him as their gemoy leader. In today’s politics, perception is reality—and social media decides both.

Final Reflections

The latest ISEAS survey in six Southeast Asian countries showed that young undergraduates rarely engage in political discussions online, with more than 50% of youths in five out of the six countries surveyed never or rarely discuss political or social issues online.

However, it fails to capture the nuances of youth activism.

Just because they do not actively post about politics does not mean they are apolitical or politically ignorant. More often than not, these youths are “lurkers” online—consuming hours of political content without actively posting. In fact, they are often more politically informed than older generations (the boomers), thanks to their constant exposure to digital information and reliance on social media as their primary news source.

This phenomenon becomes most evident during elections, when young people, once labelled as “politically disinterested”, suddenly mobilise in massive numbers to vote—often becoming the decisive force in political outcomes.

A local poll conducted just one month before Malaysia’s GE14 showed that more than 50% of youths were disinterested in politics. Yet, in less than 30 days, over 80% of young voters turned up to vote. Not only that, they also actively convinced their parents and grandparents to vote in their favour—triggering the greatest political upset in Malaysia’s electoral history.

All of these show that social media has become the new battleground for power. It can spark revolutions, rewrite history, elevate the fallen and bring down the mighty. It has given the youth of ASEAN a voice louder than ever before—a voice that can shape policies, influence elections and redefine national narratives.

But with great power comes great risk. The same platforms that expose corruption can also whitewash it. The same digital tools that empower democracy can also manipulate it.

The future of ASEAN will not be decided in old halls of power alone, but in the ever-evolving digital arenas where perception is reality and those who control the narrative control the future. The question is no longer whether social media matters—it is who masters it first.

Introduction

Stepping into 2025 means we only have less than five years left to achieve the ambitious targets of the SDGs. With so many uncertainties, a question remains: Can we really meet these goals or will we fall short doing so, thus leaving humanity to face the consequences of inaction?

To recapitulate, the world is drastically off course in achieving the 2030 target. Indonesia is partly responsible as well—its economic growth rate has consistently fallen short of its targets in recent years, signalling an urgent need for government intervention.

Meanwhile, programmes aimed at climate change mitigation remain underperforming, resulting in no significant reduction in carbon emissions. If this trend persists, it threatens to deepen the sustainability gap, jeopardising the country’s future and the wellbeing of its people.

From Financing to Reporting

Public finance for climate adaptation is crucial to help Indonesia attain these targets. There is a growing need for this, considering developing countries fall far behind their developed counterparts in financing climate adaptation (the financing gap between them is estimated at US$194–366 billion per year globally). Such a large sum of money for specific projects calls for robust financial mechanisms for monitoring and regulation.

The lack of transparency has sparked rising public concern over the accountability of these funds, especially as cases of misuse and deceptive practices – commonly referred to as “sustainability-washing” – continue to emerge.

Indonesia’s own Badan Pemeriksa Keuangan (Supreme Audit Institution – SAI) has identified weaknesses in the planning and accountability of the management of grants from the Forest Carbon Partnership Facility-Carbon Fund and the BioCarbon Fund Integrated Sustainable Forest Landscape. These deficiencies pose risks of potential fraud and hinder the achievement of carbon reduction targets.

In response to such a challenge, disclosure standards for sustainability-related funds have begun to emerge, such as Disclosure of Sustainability-related Financial Information (IFRS S1) and Climate-related Disclosures (IFRS S2).

Reimagining the Triple Bottom Line

The introduction of IFRS S1 and S2 signals the private sector to disclose sustainability-related information in their financial report. The implementation of sustainability reporting is rooted in John Elkington’s concept of the Triple Bottom Line (TBL), an approach that evaluates a private company’s performance through three interconnected pillars: Profit, Planet and People (3P).

It maintains that a company’s success should no longer be judged solely by its financial performance but also by its commitment to environmental sustainability and societal wellbeing. This shift drives private entities to actively engage in sustainable practices and transparently report on their efforts.

The International Public Sector Accounting Standards (IPSAS) followed suit shortly, adapting the TBL to fit into the public sector. In fact, the IPSAS Board has announced plans to release exposure drafts of these adapted standards as early as 2025. In this quick timeframe, the public sector must now be ready to incorporate sustainability concepts into their financial reporting.

However, the TBL framework seems insufficient to drive sustainability disclosures in the public sector. Governments, being non-profit-oriented entities, may see limited relevance or impact from such disclosures. There is even a risk that governments might produce incomplete or purely formalistic sustainability reports, simply to meet compliance requirements. This limitation led us to propose a reimagined TBL concept for the public sector: Politics, Planet and People.

Why “Politics”?

“Politics” is the more fitting principle for government sustainability reporting as governments, ideally, do not operate to maximise profits but to deliver direct societal benefits. A government’s primary functions are providing goods and services, ensuring geopolitical stability, maintaining social welfare, protecting the environment, as well as crafting policies to achieve the SDGs. It can direct resources, influence behaviour, and establish frameworks for sustainable practices across sectors through policies and legislation.

Slightly different from the private sector, a government’s sustainability disclosure will focus on the impact of the policies made. These policies must be inspired by sustainability values ​​so that achievement metrics can be implemented, as has been done by the City of Toronto, Canada. It should be noted that these sustainability-oriented policies are a product of political negotiation, a standard procedure in any policymaking process.

The Need for Accountability and Transparency

Given a government’s ability to pursue the SDGs through public programmes, there is a demand from the citizens regarding the state’s accountability on this matter, particularly concerning impacts on the environmental and social wellbeing fronts. Transparent sustainability reporting – grounded in the reimagined TBL – can strengthen public trust by demonstrating tangible commitments and measurable outcomes.

By incorporating a political lens into sustainability reporting, states can be encouraged to develop more actionable and concrete policies, directly advancing the effort to achieve the SDGs. Such reporting frameworks provide a clearer roadmap for progress, ensuring that governments are held accountable for their commitments and their use of public resources.

Indonesia’s SAI, for example, has been consistently issuing sustainability reports since 2020, the latest of which was released in 2023. This crucial step is an implementation of one of the International Organization of Supreme Audit Institution’s (INTOSAI) agreements regarding the SDG audit. The objective is to become a model organisation for other government institutions through the implementation of transparent and sustainable governance, which actively considers economic, social, and environmental sustainability aspects.

From the regional perspective, ASEAN has taken steps by forming the ASEAN Catalytic Green Finance (ACGF) instrument. This initiative seeks to accelerate green infrastructure investments in Southeast Asia by providing technical support and access to financing. To be eligible for financing, projects must be sovereign or sovereign-guaranteed and meet principal criteria, including clear government environmental priorities and goals, financial sustainability plans, as well as green investment roadmaps. Addititionally, an approval from the Asian Development Bank (ADB) is also required. Indonesia, for example, went through the assessment process by the ADB in 2023 before receiving financial support from the ACGF.

This approach ensures that projects should not only align with broad sustainability objectives but also provide the accountability and transparent aspects in their implementation before getting the loans. It highlights the importance of aligning coherent regulations, sustainable development plans, funding schemes and reporting altogether in order to reinforce public trust, drive meaningful progress, and produce benefits in multiple dimensions.

Policymaking for Sustainability

The adoption of the “Politics” element could have a significant influence on long-term political stability, public welfare and more inclusive sustainable development. Governments can start by integrating sustainability as a key indicator in budget and performance measurement across agencies. This approach can then be translated into more implementable measures, from setting carbon emission parameters in vehicle procurement, minimising paper documentation through the adoption of e-government, implementing a water recycling system in offices, to undertaking waste management activities. Furthermore, the monitoring and evaluation process should be applied consistently from the decision-making level to day-to-day operations as a substantive tool for improvement.

Cross-sectoral collaboration between the governments, the private sector and non-profit groups is crucial to harmonise the definition of sustainability and concrete actions. Taking this step, the governments could ensure that the metrics utilised in sustainability reporting are not only coherent across agencies, but also represent the aspirations and contributions of all parties.

Conclusion

Incorporating sustainability reporting into governance is more than just an administrative duty; it is a critical tool to improve accountability, transparency and national growth. The adoption of the Politics, Planet and People framework in SDG-related policies allows governments to focus more on strengthening public trust and enforcing systematic change. This hopefully establishes a new ideal political benchmark, where leaders are judged by concrete, long-term factors rather than short-term populism.

Political accountability based on the SDGs also produces a positive domino effect. Increased public expectations toward measurable sustainability outcomes enhance the likelihood of both elected and appointed officials to embrace responsible, forward-thinking leadership. The race to meet the public expectations creates significant political transformation, fostering healthier, more resilient governments and communities. At the end of the day, sustainability is not solely a governmental aim but also a mutual priority, enforcing systematic social and economic change. The reimagined TBL has the potential to redefine governance and development, making sustainability a cornerstone of political and social advancement for generations to come.r

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.