Waves of mass protests have swept across Indonesia over the past two months. In February, protesters from Papua to Sumatra rallied to protest President Prabowo Subianto’s free meal program and “efficiency” measures, demanded affordable education and protection of academic freedom, and called on the government to listen to “the people” (rakyat). Online and offline, thousands used the slogan #IndonesiaGelap (#DarkIndonesia) to express their discontent. These protests signify a continuation of last year’s August demonstrations, which rallied around the slogan #PeringatanDarurat (#EmergencyAlert) and rejected a controversial legal amendment that would have allowed the (now former) President Joko Widodo’s son to run in the gubernatorial elections.
More recently, since March 19, protesters have been taking to the streets of Jakarta, Bandung, Yogyakarta, Surabaya, Malang, Karawang, Banda Aceh, Padang, Samarinda, and many other cities to reject the amendment to Law No. 34/2004 on the National Military (UU TNI). On March 20, the amendment was passed in parliament, expanding the military’s role in government and risking further erosion of the principle of civil supremacy. As of March 29, protests have taken place in at least 72 cities. Beginning on April 7, a group of protesters held a small encampment in front of one of the gates of parliament, before being dispersed by the police on April 9.
Whilst clearly pushing back against attempts to erode democratic norms, these recent protests are also contesting the government’s own conception of democracy.
Despite the democratic backsliding of the past decade, Indonesian politicians and government officials have never openly denounced democracy. In fact, they often boast of Indonesia’s status as a democracy and claim to respect their critics’ democratic rights. The improvement of democracy has been officially part of the country’s National Long-Term Development Plan since 2005, and the Central Statistics Agency constructs its own democracy index. Even Prabowo himself, who has been accused of committing gross human rights abuses during Suharto’s dictatorship, claims to support democracy. In his inauguration speech back in October, he mentioned the word “democracy” no less than 15 times.
However, the current Indonesian government has a particular, albeit implicit, conception of democracy: one in which there is limited criticism and calm. Though Prabowo claimed to support democracy in his inauguration speech, he qualified that what Indonesians need is a “polite democracy” (demokrasi yang santun) that is “unique to Indonesia.” In February, responding to the Sukatani band’s song “Bayar, Bayar, Bayar”, which critiqued the pervasiveness of corruption within the police body, Minister of Cultural Affairs Fadli Zon said that freedom of expression had its limits. He suggested critics should avoid offending entire institutions (as opposed to individuals) with their criticisms. And while Prabowo has on various occasions claimed that he welcomes criticism, he has mocked and dismissed criticisms of his policies.
For example, in a speech at the Gerindra Party’s 17th anniversary event, Prabowo used the word “ndasmu” (direct translation: “your head”) to express his distaste for criticisms about the size of his cabinet. In another speech, this time at the 6th Democrat Party Congress, Prabowo responded to the #DarkIndonesia protests with a chuckle, saying, “who is seeing a dark Indonesia?” instead of carefully addressing the substance of the protests. Yet, several moments later, he asked people to correct him if he failed to prioritize “the people”. On March 31, the Chairman of the National Economic Council Luhut Binsar Pandjaitan reminded that democracy should not transgress the polite mannerisms that characterize Indonesian culture.
The government’s resistance to different viewpoints stems from its idealization of one, homogenous, “united” people. On February 9, the Indonesian National Press Day, Prabowo congratulated the press’ contribution to democracy but reminded journalists that they should “always prioritize national interest” and avoid sowing “hatred and distrust”. On February 15, he cautioned against “foreign agents” (antek asing) who wish to divide the people through the media and non-governmental organizations.
The importance of unity to Prabowo was made further evident when he invited the chief editors of several media organizations for a six-hour meeting at his home on February 22. In his post on X, he expressed his hopes that the meeting would “strengthen the media’s synergy and contribution to the nation’s development.” And in a 3-hour interview he held with six journalists at his home just last Sunday, April 6, he alleged that many protesters are funded by foreign agents.
This is nothing new; Prabowo has framed dissenting views in this manner on numerous occasions, dating back long before his presidency. In a speech he made back in June 2014, during his first campaign for the presidency, he said that direct elections are part of Western culture and unsuitable for Indonesia, and suggested that there needs to be “a new consensus.” Then, a couple of months after his election last year, he suggested abolishing direct elections for regional governors, regents, and mayors, and instead delegating their selection to regional legislatures.
The past two months’ protests have sought to challenge these narratives, both online and offline, through protest signs, banners, and social media posts, and to contest the boundaries of democracy that the government has attempted to set. For example, coopting the notion of politeness, protesters and netizens have framed the government’s lack of transparency and public consultation in policymaking, as well as its crafting of harmful policies, as “impolite.”
The argument that opposition and dissent are integral to democracy directly challenges the government’s preference for “politeness” and “civility.” Rejecting the importance of order and calm above all else, protesters have contended that they deserve to be angry and disruptive when their voices are not heard. They have also said that government officials are not rulers, but rather servants that the people pay through their tax. Questions on the lines of “who does the parliament represent” – a recurring question dating way before Prabowo’s presidency – demonstrate a consciousness about the continuous nature of political representation. On this view, democracy does not end with the conclusion of elections. Some have also emphasized democracy as a process, where the public’s political participation is valued in itself. This challenges the government’s tendency to center elections as “democratic festivals” (pesta demokrasi).
The pushback against the government’s idealization of a calm, united democratic polity demonstrates how the definition of democracy itself has become a terrain of political contestation. Given the positive connotation that the term “democracy” has, politicians with authoritarian tendencies may find it preferable to define democracy in ways that suit their interests rather than to reject it outright.
This is evident in Indonesia’s case; given that democracy is a popular buzzword, claiming “democracy” can give politicians legitimacy. Contesting these boundaries and reclaiming the meaning of democracy are thus critical political acts to not only defend democracy against erosion but also to renegotiate and expand its scope. Over the past few weeks, slogans such as “the people help the people,” open donations of food and water for protesters, and donations to support victims of police brutality, medical posts to assist protesters in need of medical help, among others, both invigorate solidarity and expose the shortcomings in Prabowo’s “polite” conception of democracy.