With Indonesia’s 2024 presidential election almost upon us, Kenneth Yeung looks back on why there may not be much to look forward to.
The 2014 presidential race between former furniture exporter Joko ‘Jokowi’ Widodo and ex-general Prabowo Subianto was billed as the most crucial poll the nation had ever seen. Jokowi was a reformist from outside the political elite, whereas Prabowo was viewed as a remnant of the notoriously corrupt and brutal Suharto regime.
When the same pair contested the 2019 presidential election, it was deemed the most divisive election in Indonesia’s democratic history. Deep polarisation stemmed from the exploitation of religious sentiments, followed by baseless allegations of election fraud by Prabowo and his Gerindra Party.
As we near the 2024 presidential election, which falls on Valentine’s Day, pundits are yet again trotting out the line of “the most important election in Indonesia’s recent history”. But this time, the result may be a foregone conclusion. According to opinion polls, Prabowo is likely to win big, largely thanks to his endorsement by Jokowi.
So how did we end up in this situation? Why did the two former foes become allies? And what does this mean for the future of Indonesian democracy?
Constitutional Rewind
In short, much of the current situation is due to Indonesian Democratic Party of Struggle (PDIP) chairwoman Megawati Sukarnoputri’s mishandling of her relationship with Jokowi. More on that shortly. Another factor is the incumbent president’s desire to build a dynasty after failing to secure backing for a constitutional amendment that would have allowed him to run for a third term. As for the future, Indonesia’s democratic backsliding of recent years could become a landslide.
Why? Because in addition to the growing erosion of democratic institutions, here’s what Prabowo declared in 2019, “Gerindra is clear, our struggle is to return the original 1945 Constitution.” He also made a similar call in 2014. So what’s wrong with going back to the original constitution? History buffs will recall that this is precisely what founding president Sukarno did in July 1959 when he terminated Indonesia’s liberal democracy, replaced it with “Guided Democracy” and went on to be given the title of “President for Life”.
When Suharto ousted Sukarno in the mid-1960s, he too maintained the original 1945 Constitution, as its absence of provisions on direct elections and human rights helped him to wield power for decades. After Suharto’s downfall amid a crippling economic crisis and mass riots in 1998, the Constitution was amended four times between 1999-2002, introducing articles on direct elections, human rights, and a Constitutional Court. If Indonesia does fully revert to the original 1945 Constitution, say goodbye to them.
However, back in 2014, a Gerindra official helpfully clarified that what Prabowo had really meant was that Indonesia should go back to the “spirit” of the original constitution, ensuring that state wealth is for the people’s prosperity and does not leak to tycoons or outsiders. Around the same time, Gerindra issued a manifesto stating that human rights courts are “excessive” and that religious teachings must be pure from all forms of blasphemy and deviation.
More recently, a Gerindra official this year said calls to re-amend the constitution, such as restoring power to the People’s Consultative Assembly (the top state institution of the Suharto era) should only be discussed after the 2024 election. Exactly; why play your long-term policy cards for voters to see?
Rising Beyond Belittlement
Among Jokowi’s policy promises back in 2014 were: infrastructure development, greater social welfare and healthcare, maritime development, and a mental revolution to remove corruption from the bureaucracy. And generally, he’s delivered, except on that last point.
After being sworn in as Indonesia’s seventh president in 2014, the former Solo mayor and ex-Jakarta governor faced a hostile majority opposition in parliament. Despite his ‘outsider’ status, Jokowi proved adept at dealmaking, giving cabinet positions to rival parties to win the political oligarchy’s support. This dealmaking reached its zenith following his victory in 2019 when he appointed Prabowo to the plum position of defence minister. Better to have him inside as an ally than outside as a troublesome foe.
Bringing the temperamentally volatile Prabowo into the fold in October 2019 left Indonesia running without an effective political opposition. Of the major parties, only the Democratic Party of former president Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono (SBY) was denied a place at the cabinet trough, along with the Islamic Prosperous Justice Party (PKS). SBY’s party was excluded because Megawati has never forgiven him for running against her in the 2004 presidential election. As for PKS, Jokowi resented its role in the 2017 downfall of his friend, former Jakarta governor Basuki “Ahok” Tjahaja Purnama, an ethnic Chinese Christian who was jailed for blasphemy after opposing corruption.
Throughout Jokowi’s two terms, he has not enjoyed a warm relationship with Megawati, who for decades has run PDIP as her personal fiefdom. She frequently belittled Jokowi in public, reminding him that he is merely a party functionary, whereas she is the chief.
Jokowi’s early detractors sought to depict him as a mere puppet of Megawati. But he was nobody’s puppet. When it came to appointments and policies, Jokowi often outmanoeuvred Megawati, further straining their relationship. Nevertheless, Megawati held sway when it came to certain cabinet selections, prompting some politicians to privately complain that the allocation of ministerial portfolios was influenced by factors other than merit.
Meanwhile, the mental revolution seems to have been forgotten. Instead, the focus is on shifting Indonesia’s capital city from lethally polluted Jakarta to Kalimantan. A nice gesture, but critics claim the government should first tackle pollution; rather than risk going into debt just to cocoon the government and parliament in a remote location, safe from Jakarta’s massive public protests, which have been pivotal in shaping the nation’s history. Prabowo has reportedly claimed he will increase the budget for the new national capital if elected.
Scoring an Own Goal
Some PDIP stalwarts felt Megawati should have announced her intention to step aside as party leader and anoint Jokowi as her successor when his term ends in October 2024. Instead, she continued to treat the man who had won PDIP the presidency as an underling.
Plenty of the oligarchs wanted Jokowi to stay on as president, so a proposal was floated to give him a third term because of lost time during the COVID-19 pandemic. This was widely opposed, especially by Megawati, who felt PDIP could win the next election without Jokowi.
In early 2023, Megawati and Jokowi met to discuss PDIP’s candidate. By all accounts, the meeting did not go well. Next, Megawati blundered with a decision that robbed Indonesia of its role as host of the FIFA Under-20 Men’s Football Championship, which was to have taken place in Java and Bali in May and June. Bali Governor Wayan Koster and Central Java Governor Ganjar Pranowo – both PDIP members – in March announced they would not have the Israeli team participating in the event. Their stance was ostensibly due to security concerns and fears of undermining Indonesia’s support for Palestinian independence. Many analysts surmised it was a clumsy effort to win Muslim support for PDIP in the 2024 elections. Others claimed the move was actually to prevent State-Owned Enterprises Minister, Erick Thohir, from gaining popularity following his election as chairman of the Indonesian Football Association in February 2023.
Whatever the reason, the move backfired. Tens of millions of soccer-mad Indonesians, including Jokowi, were massively disappointed when FIFA cancelled Indonesia’s hosting rights. The backlash against Ganjar Pranowo was particularly strong. Less than a month later, without consulting Jokowi, Megawati named Ganjar as PDIP’s presidential candidate.
The Son Also Rises
In Indonesian democracy, the people don’t choose the presidential or vice presidential candidates. That right is in the hands of the leaders of the political parties, which must hold at least 20 percent of seats in the national parliament in order to field a candidate.
Ganjar was the last of the three presidential candidates to be announced. Back in August 2022, Prabowo formally accepted Gerindra’s nomination at a party meeting, during which he paused to play a clip from a movie that featured gruesome executions of Indonesians – not from the Suharto era but during the Dutch colonial era.
Next, in February 2023, former Education Minister Anies Baswedan, who had faced accusations of exploiting religious intolerance and racism in order to replace Ahok as Jakarta’s governor, was named the candidate of a coalition involving Nasdem, PKS, and the Democratic Party. Nasdem would pay dearly for backing Anies, as two of its members serving as cabinet ministers were later arrested for corruption. The Democratic Party, miffed when SBY’s son was not named as Anies’s running mate, jumped ship to Prabowo. Plenty of other politicians and tycoons have also moved to back Prabowo, sensing that he will be victorious.
Once the presidential candidates were named, the more interesting race was on for their vice presidential candidates. For this role, you need either tremendous popularity and influence or tremendous wealth (for the campaign coffers). It was amusing to witness the musical chairs of candidates courted by different parties, showing that most of them are virtually interchangeable. But this has long been the case. Let’s not forget that Prabowo was Megawati’s running mate back in 2009 during their failed bid for the presidency.
More important than the negotiations over vice presidential candidates was the battle for Jokowi’s blessing, given his enduring popularity. While Jokowi had dutifully attended the announcement of Ganjar’s nomination, he was hardly effusive. Instead, it became increasingly clear he favoured Prabowo to succeed him. To sweeten their pact, Jokowi’s eldest son, Gibran Rakabuming Raka, who in 2021 had become mayor of Solo despite earlier claiming to have no interest in politics, was to become Prabowo’s running mate.
There was one small problem. The Election Law states that presidential and vice presidential candidates must be at least 40 years old, whereas Gibran would only be 36 by February 2024. Normally, laws are amended by parliament through debates and discussions that can run into years. So the parties backing Gibran threw the ball to the Constitutional Court, where the chief justice happened to be Gibran’s uncle, appointed by Jokowi. In a controversial 5-4 decision, the Constitutional Court created an exception allowing younger officials who have held elected office at the provincial and municipal levels to run for the presidency and vice presidency. Suddenly, Prabowo surged far ahead of Ganjar in opinion polls. The election may still require a second round, scheduled for 26th June, if no candidate secures more than 50 percent of the vote in February.
PDIP officials now complain that whereas they used to enjoy full cooperation from the state apparatus, including the military and police, they now find calls going unanswered when they want assistance to stage an event or even erect banners. They also bewail that recent military reshuffles have seen Prabowo supporters replace Megawati’s backers.
Moreover, some claim that the once respected Corruption Eradication Commission (KPK) is now a weapon to intimidate PDIP legislators who want to speak out about alleged corruption involving a rival candidate – as few of them have entirely clean slates.
Meanwhile, Prabowo is being marketed as a cute baby-faced cartoon character. He’s seen as more palatable now that he has Jokowi’s golden touch and has dropped his 2019 tactic of befriending Islamic extremists.
Megawati has no one to blame but herself for pushing Jokowi into Prabowo’s ascending orbit. Many voters see her as out of touch but are impressed by the pairing of Prabowo and Gibran. The average Indonesian is now about 30 years old, meaning they were four when Suharto lost power. Tellingly, opinion polls show that much older Indonesians tend to support Ganjar. But this election will be decided by the younger generation, which tends to favour swiping through moronic videos on social media, rather than reading Tempo magazine, one of the nation’s last bastions of investigative, analytical journalism.
As for the many expatriates in Indonesia, whatever the election outcome, it will be business as usual. Those who care about free speech, the rule of law, the environment, and human rights may find their passion for Indonesia reignited by rising iniquities. Others, like me, will simply carry on squandering money on booze while pompously pontificating, unaware of entrapment in their own echo chambers of intellectual cowardice. Possibly, the political landscape and voters’ attitudes may change before Valentine’s Day but don’t bet on it. Instead, make the most of the next 10 months in Indonesia.