On Thursday last week, the world’s third-largest democracy took a step back in time. The Indonesian House of Representatives unanimously passed revisions to the 2004 Armed Forces Law, significantly expanding the military’s role in public life. That risks a dangerous return to the country’s authoritarian past, undoing decades of hard-won democratic progress since the fall of former Indonesian president Suharto’s military dictatorship in 1998.
That is not just Indonesia’s problem. It is part of a global trend where strongmen exploit democratic systems to consolidate power. The archipelago sits at the heart of the US-China rivalry in the Indo-Pacific region, and a return to military influence could have far-reaching consequences for regional stability.
Civilian groups and students are expected to protest the decision in the coming days, but those demonstrations are unlikely to have much of an impact. Under the revised law, active military officers can now hold key civilian positions without retiring or resigning. Retirement ages have been extended, too, from 60 to 63.
Those changes might seem procedural — they are not. I grew up in Suharto’s Indonesia, where the army’s tanks and color berets were a regular fixture on the streets. For many, that legislation will revive memories of dwifungsi, or the military’s “dual function.” Under that system, high-ranking soldiers dominated political, economic and civilian life.
During Suharto’s three-decade rule, the Indonesian armed forces exercised economic power through control of formal and informal businesses, Princeton University said. However, because of the murkiness of the system, there was no clear data about the extent of its economic holdings. In 2007, the government estimated that military foundations and cooperatives controlled businesses with gross assets of US$350 million, but that figure was likely to have been much higher during Suharto’s New Order era.
That level of power also brought with it widespread corruption. By the late 1990s, concerns over a currency crisis, a weak banking system and a lack of transparency in the way businesses were run led to economic collapse. GDP had shrunk by 12 percent in the first half of 1998 and the currency dropped 85 percent in less than a year.
In 1998, Suharto was brought down by student street protests. The army’s role in public life diminished, and I watched firsthand how Indonesia transitioned from a dictatorship to a democracy. At the time, many in and outside the nation wondered whether it would break into smaller states like Yugoslavia did. That did not happen, and after a period of chaos, Indonesia held its first direct presidential elections in 2004, paving the way for democracy to take root.
Since then, optimism has been warranted. Civil society and the media have flourished, and the nation has been regularly ranked as one of the freest in the world, although that has declined in the past few years. The 2014 election of a non-military president, Joko Widodo, symbolized a break from the past. However, by his second term, Jokowi, as he is commonly known, had begun reversing many civil liberties, setting the stage for democratic backsliding.
That now risks accelerating under Indonesian President Prabowo Subianto. A former special forces commander and Suharto’s former son-in-law, Prabowo has long faced allegations of human rights abuses, which he denies. He insists he supports democracy, along with focusing on economic goals such as free school lunches and broader health checks.
Indonesians do not have many options to reverse those changes, but they should consolidate their efforts. One route could be to file a judicial review to the Constitutional Court, which has the power to revoke them if they are found to contravene the constitution.
Prabowo would be wise to listen to voters’ concerns, many of whom might take to the streets in mass protests in the coming days. He could delay implementation and propose further revisions if the public backlash grows. Those changes are coming at a time when Indonesia is facing challenges on multiple fronts. A stock market rout last week is just the latest indication of a lack of confidence in the president’s economic management.
He should consider the lessons from his former father-in-law, who ignored the complaints of his people for far too long, convinced that staying in power was more important than delivering on his promises. History has shown what happens when an Indonesian leader neglects to heed the sentiments of his people.
Karishma Vaswani is a Bloomberg Opinion columnist covering Asia politics with a special focus on China. Previously, she was the BBC’s lead Asia presenter and worked for the BBC across Asia and South Asia for two decades.
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