A Decade of Erosion Paints an Unfortunate Picture for Indonesian Democracy as Subianto Takes Office

As of October 20, 2024, Indonesia has a new president.

Prabowo Subianto’s political history is anything but ordinary, as he was able to assume the highest office despite his past involvement with the dictatorship that ruled Indonesia before the rebirth of democracy at the turn of the century (some would say that he escaped accountability for his actions, but that’s a whole other article). One of his chief supporters in his efforts to win the presidency was Joko Widodo, the previous president of Indonesia.

Widodo, affectionately known as Jokowi, went from living in an illegal shack as a child to ascending political heights until he reached the top. After a decade in power, though, he was increasingly unwilling to give up his power, seeking to establish a political dynasty after his other attempts to remain in office failed.

Widodo threw all of his political weight behind Prabowo Subianto, who was originally his greatest opposing force in the presidential elections of 2014 and 2019, defeating Subianto in both. Widodo broke with traditional norms by using the resources of the state to assist Subianto while also derailing competitors. In doing so, he ensured that his son was selected as the vice-presidential candidate with Subianto, cementing his link to the next regime.

Taken together, Widodo’s many instances of overt intimidation on a swath of Indonesia’s democratic institutions provide convincing evidence for democratic erosion in the world’s third-largest democracy.

Widodo’s official actions fall into one of three categories: pressure on freedom of speech, pressure on political parties, and weaponization of existing institutions (all of his actions discussed here also took place within the last year).

Freedom of Speech

In the runup to the general election in February of this year, Widodo turned the state’s resources against groups opposed to the Subianto-Raka ticket. While never explicitly stated by the former president himself (after all, why would he if he’s trying to suppress parts of the media), the state’s Electronic Information and Transactions Law allowed them to censor a documentary named Dirty Vote that features an analysis of the government’s abuse of resources during the 2024 election season.

Several Indonesian legal scholars were featured in the documentary, and they, along with the film’s director, were reported to the police by the Indonesian Santri Communication Forum, a collection of Islamic boarding schools. What makes this whole situation rather dubious is the fact that this organization, known as Foksi, is linked to the Indonesian Solidarity Party, which is headed by Widodo’s youngest son. It is plausible that the president asked his son to influence an outside civil society group into reporting those responsible for a documentary predicated on exposing his government’s corruption.

Freedom of speech and expression, by almost all accounts, forms the basis for a free and healthy democracy. Unfortunately, instances like these illustrate how stealth authoritarianism is slowly eroding academics’ and journalists’ abilities to publish pieces critical of the government. A chilling effect on the media also ensures that the outside world has difficulty understanding the true extent to which speech is repressed.

 In the above example, it is unclear what happened to the academics and the film’s director. Even if none of them end up convicted of a crime, they essentially become blacklisted by the government and may have to deal with the financial burden brought on by government prosecution.

Weaponization of Institutions

Widodo also used his power to intimidate local officials during the election season, according to various accounts. The president’s second term was marked by weakening institutions that assure government accountability, chief among them the “defanging” of the Corruption Eradication Commission (KPK) in 2019-2020. The KPK is now under direct supervision by the president and has faced resignations by dozens of employees in the wake of the hostile takeover.

With this democratic institution newly remade, Jokowi was able to turn the KPK on problematic elected officials to squeeze out enough votes to ensure that Subianto avoided a fight against a unified opposition in a runoff.

The ironic corruption of the anti-corruption agency is a textbook example of Levitsky and Ziblatt’s playbook for authoritarianism. By capturing the metaphorical referees that protect the democratic system, the executive is given more latitude to bend the rules and expand their power. The remaining officials in the KPK are now bought out—like many in Indonesian politics—or ignore blatant abuses of power to keep their jobs.

Political Party Pressure

This past August, Airlangga Hartarto announced his resignation as chairman of the Golkar party, the second-largest party in the country, after he was implicated in a palm oil corruption scheme. Golkar was the party of Indonesia’s previous dictatorship and retained power as part of the governing coalition. Hartarto’s replacement, Bahlil Lahadalia, is one of Widodo’s top loyalists and is described by some as his “right-hand man.” The replacement comes only a few months before the party’s next meeting in December.

Despite the party’s claims, the replacement of a top party official ahead of the inauguration of a new president with a loyalist reflects Jokowi’s desire to remain influential in politics. The new regime cannot afford to alienate a key part of their coalition, ensuring that Golkar and—in turn—Widodo have plenty of political capital.  

This is another example of Levitsky and Ziblatt’s picture of democratic erosion, this time with sidelining key members of political parties. The erosion of the political party structure allows for undue influence in the policy sphere by people like Widodo, who are now private citizens. In essence, a new political dynasty has been established.

What are the people to do?

So, if democracy is backsliding in Indonesia, why don’t the people do something about it?

It isn’t for lack of democratic support; it’s that—in many ways—Joko Widodo’s presidency did a lot of good for the average Indonesian. Poverty fell substantially during his two terms as wages almost doubled throughout this tenure.

This election offered Indonesians a choice: protect democracy by voting for the opposition or elect Widodo’s anointed successor after a decade of tangible improvement for regular people. Researchers have identified this choice at the ballot box as a problematic trend for the health of a democracy. The democratic process can be slow, and those who offer tangible solutions at the expense of democracy—like Widodo—have proven that they can hang onto power.

Despite all this, Prabowo Subianto is now president and given a mandate by the people to continue the economic growth that characterized Jokowi Widodo’s two terms. Subianto is his own person, though, and it will be interesting to watch for cleavages between him and Widodo. The choice is now in Subianto’s hands: continue along the current path or change course on the erosion of Indonesia’s democratic institutions.