Kenneth Yeung looks at why football-crazy Indonesia still can’t reach the World Cup.
Indonesia has long languished in the global football rankings, despite many similarities with Brazil. Both are large, tropical, ethnically diverse middle-income countries, fanatical about football, yet Brazil has won five FIFA World Cups while Indonesia has never even qualified for the tournament.
With the World Cup now upon us, Indonesia’s bad news cycle will take a back seat for a month as tens of millions in the country tune in to enjoy the spectacle. The 104 matches, spread across 16 cities in Mexico, Canada, and the US, will be broadcast live in Indonesia from around 11 PM to 7 AM local time. This means plenty of late-night nobar (nonton bareng – ‘watching together’), so expect some sleepy or absent colleagues.
From ojek drivers to cabinet ministers, Indonesians have a near-religious devotion to football. Nevertheless, they are generally much more enthused about European teams than domestic clubs. One senior official starts his days in the office by viewing the latest videos and news about his beloved Liverpool FC. When I ask which Indonesian club he supports, he responds: “I only follow the English Premier League, UEFA, and other foreign leagues. Indonesian football is not interesting; it’s not well managed.”
Ask Indonesians why their country has never made it to the World Cup, and many will say something along the lines of: “It’s because the Indonesian physique is small. Europeans and South Americans are bigger and stronger.” This excuse doesn’t hold water. Football is not basketball. Superstars such as Pelé, Maradona, and Messi are not literal giants. Many greats have hailed from developing and middle-income nations, and players of Indonesian ancestry have thrived abroad.
That said, Indonesia’s staple diet of rice and sugar is carbohydrate-heavy, whereas a higher protein intake from meat can improve muscle development and conditioning.
Some Indonesians point out that Western nations have a longer footballing tradition. True enough, but football has been played in Indonesia for well over a century. The Dutch introduced the game during the colonial era, organised competitions began in the early 1900s, and the Dutch East Indies even qualified for the 1938 World Cup. Indonesia’s problem is not that it joined the game too late, but that it has failed to develop the institutions, infrastructure, and transparency needed to turn passion into international success.
Plenty of Indonesians acknowledge that corruption is a hindrance to the nation’s footballing prowess. Misuse of funds and match-fixing are recurring problems, particularly in lower-level competitions. A former player, now with a top Jakarta law firm, quips: “I had the opportunity to become a professional footballer in Indonesia. I decided to pursue law instead— it’s less corrupt.”
Insufficient and inadequate fields are the most basic constraint, limiting both participation and the quality of training environments. This is exacerbated by poor administration, weak talent scouting and youth development pathways, favouritism towards well-connected players, and poorly run domestic competitions.
An ex-footballer, who has represented Indonesia in various sports, explains that another major impediment is the lack of fitness culture and professional training. “Because almost nobody trains properly here. They just train until they are tired,” he says.
“They don’t really study the game and hone their craft—both athletes and coaches. If you see most, if not all, of the football schools in Indonesia, they just do sprints and drills that are outdated and make you tired. Compare it to European youth football clubs, where everything is so systematic and technical. I think this is an Indonesian manpower issue in general.”
A further issue is the lack of financial security for talented players, especially those who view sport as a means to escape poverty. Upon achieving modest success, they often leave the sport for more stable careers in the civil service or the military when the opportunity arises. Former players cite delayed wages, short contracts, and uneven club finances as reasons for quitting the sport.
Going Dutch
All this means that in Indonesia, football is seen more as entertainment than as a marker of national identity, unlike in Brazil. Indonesia currently ranks 122nd in FIFA’s world rankings, a definite improvement from 191st in 2016. This rise has been attributed partly to the naturalisation of professional Dutch players with Indonesian ancestral links into the national squad.
Another initiative has been the sponsorship of Indonesian youth teams attending long-term training programmes in South America and Europe. However, critics claim Indonesia’s football administrators are being duped by sycophants selling pipe dreams, as these camps are costly and don’t guarantee that a single participant goes on to become a professional player.
They also note that while Brazilian kids grow up dreaming of becoming the next Pelé or Ronaldo, Indonesia lacks footballing heroes, which may limit aspirational pathways. “Especially in this generation, where the national team is filled with imported players. Kids don’t look at footballers and think, ‘I’m going to be Ivar Jenner when I grow up,’ because they can’t relate to him,” says a former player.
Insufficient Infrastructure
More than 20 years ago, then-Jakarta-based American player and coach, Dale Mulholland, looked at why Indonesia could not match Brazil’s footballing achievements in an article for Indonesia’s Tempo magazine, titled ‘Why Samba, Not Sambal?’ His conclusions identified many of the same issues still raised today, specifically the lack of infrastructure. He also noted the absence of foreign-born or heritage players representing the national team at the time, something that has since changed in recent years.
Asked how much has changed in terms of infrastructure over the past two decades, his response is blunt: “Not much. They say they’ve built more fields, but those are mainly in cities and for the upper classes. People say that bad pitches will make better players; they don’t. Playing on bad pitches damages the development of timing and essential skills.”
Mulholland also notes that the use of foreign-born or naturalised players has long been common across international football as a way of strengthening national squads, and sees that nationalist attitudes in Indonesia have shifted. “Nationalism is over in that sense. If we’re winning, that’s what matters; who cares if the players are imported?”
However, he adds that without good-quality pitches, including proper maintenance and facilities that are freely accessible to all players rather than limited to wealthier users, progress will remain limited. “You cannot shortcut development. If Indonesia develops more and better free pitches, it can become a powerhouse within 20 years,” he says.
Clearly, Indonesia does have the foundations to improve its football culture. With the world’s largest and youngest population of football fans, there is a vast pool of potential talent, especially in Papua. Prioritising proper scouting and infrastructure, along with improvements in coaching and fitness, would improve player development. But without red-carding the longstanding issues of corruption and mismanagement, the wider system will remain hobbled.
If reforms are implemented effectively, Indonesia could move from perennial outsider to credible World Cup contender and even co-host. After all, stranger things have happened in recent FIFA history.