The Mixed Legacies of Indonesia’s Reformasi

Indonesia has a remarkable story to tell. Drawn together from ancient kingdoms through colonization and occupation, galvanized through a protracted war of independence, consolidated under authoritarianism, the country has emerged as a vibrant yet complex democracy. Just two decades old, the country’s political system enjoys strong support among citizens and Indonesia boasts a strong and independent press. In 1998, the situation looked dire and, as has since been repeated, analysts feared at the time the country’s economic troubles and mushrooming communal violence would lead to the breakup of the world’s largest archipelagic state. How Indonesia emerged from the ashes of the authoritarian New Order era is an important study in tenacity and policy.

The state of Indonesia’s democracy is more pertinent as commentators rush to declare the general demise of democracy around the world. Across the world and particularly in newer democracies, it’s argued, norms are being rolled back slowly toward more centralized power in the hands of populist leaders. In 2017, democracy faced its “most serious crisis in decades,” according to Freedom House, with 71 countries experiencing net declines in political rights and liberties and only 35 showing net gains. Time recently declared “the era of the strongman,” featuring on their cover Russia’s Vladimir Putin, Rodrigo Duterte of the Philippines, Recep Tayyip Erdoğan of Turkey, and Hungary’s Viktor Orban. In the past few years, the people of India, Austria, Malaysia, and the United States have democratically elected populist leaders in countries where tolerance and plurality are under threat.

Indonesia’s politics and society have bucked only some of these global trends. Incumbent President Joko “Jokowi” Widodo’s mandate and the tenacity of Indonesia’s democracy currently rest on 20 years of consolidation. But is it enough to prevent backsliding? How much has changed since 1998?

The Demands of 1998

While there were already cracks appearing in Suharto’s rule, the events of 1997 and 1998 brought an unequivocal end to the New Order. The East Asian Financial Crisis starting in mid-1997 plunged the Indonesian economy, already weakened by corruption and high debt, into turmoil: gross domestic product (GDP) shrank by 14 percent and the Indonesian rupiah lost 30 percent of its value by October 1997, bankrupting companies and leading to rising unemployment. Higher food and fuel prices severely hurt the poor.

It was also a chaotic and violent time, particularly for Jakarta’s ethnic Chinese community, whose elites’ long-standing business ties to Suharto’s wealth was a source of resentment. Bitterness was also directed at the Suharto family. His children had business ventures built on their father’s political connections and wielded immense wealth.

Unsurprisingly, student demonstrations, beginning in January 1998, demanded an end to corruption, collusion, and nepotism (colloquially abbreviated in Indonesian as “KKN”) in politics and business. The end of the New Order also meant dismantling the military’s pervasive role in politics and its tight control on freedom of expression. Among the striking images of that era was that of protesters, having stormed the parliament, defiantly occupying the roof of the building. Despite the threat of violent reprisal from the military (six students had been shot dead by the armed forces at Jakarta’s Trisakti University on May 12), in mid-May students marched through the streets and, amazingly, soldiers did not resist; rather, many joined them in solidarity.

As demonstrations then riots reached fever pitch, Suharto’s allies abandoned ship. Only those closest to him stayed loyal, such as the then chief of the military and his former adjutant General Wiranto. The work of activists and protestors was the final push toward change: on May 21, Suharto resigned as president.

The following 18 months were critical for sowing the seeds of democratization. Suharto’s vice president and successor, B.J. Habibie, instituted an ambitious reform program that poignantly offered elections in 1999 (three years ahead of schedule), freedom to political parties, and the devolution of power into Indonesia’s provinces. The allocation of funding and greater autonomy afforded to these levels of government helped increase participation and stability. In natural resource-rich Indonesia, communities that felt their wealth was siphoned off to the capital had a better chance of investing it back into their local community than under the Suharto regime.

But Habibie didn’t stop there. He released political prisoners and liberalized the press. Habibie even offered a referendum to the people of East Timor (now Timor-Leste), the brutal occupation of which had been a festering sore on the country’s international reputation for over two decades. As the 20th century drew to a close, a new dawn appeared in Indonesia. 

Electoral Reform

Politically, Indonesia’s multiparty democracy is robust, though there still are a few rough edges. 

According to Freedom House, Indonesia’s political system and civil liberties were rated “Partly Free” in 2018. Until 2013, the country had been deemed by the watchdog organization to be “Free.” That said, progressive legislative developments since 1998 have made for a freer and fairer process. During the Wahid (1999–2001) and Megawati (2001–2004) presidencies, constitutional amendments were made including the establishment of a constitutional court and direct election of the president. Since 1998, Indonesia has held free and fair elections in 1999, 2004, 2009, and 2014. The next general elections are scheduled for April 2019. In 2005, the direct election of regional heads was introduced, increasing public participation in the nascent democracy.

Sustained economic growth has bolstered the legitimacy of civilian leadership. During the Yudhoyono era (2004–2014), largely considered as a decade of stability and consolidation, GDP grew roughly 6 percent per annum on average, shielding the country from the ravages of the Global Financial Crisis in 2008–2009. Indonesia joined the G20 in 2008, becoming the only ASEAN country to do so.

Despite a booming middle class and democratic consolidation, undesirable political practices remain. For instance, one major study has found that subdistrict political candidates throughout the archipelago have increasingly adopted patronage and clientelism as the dominant modality of gaining political support. The entrenchment of money in politics and pork barrelling does not bode well for transparent and effective governance. In more insidious cases, such as in Blora, Central Java, botoh (local gamblers with underworld connections) engaged in vote buying in 2014 to affect the results of the candidate they were betting against, not for political reasons but merely to win their bet.

While the quality of Indonesia’s electoral democracy remains strong, its liberal attributes are eroding. Legislative changes, for example, are shielding legislators from proper scrutiny. Introduced in March 2018, the new “MD3” law (named for the houses of government it covers) potentially criminalizes criticism of the legislature or its members. Another article of the law concerns acts that potentially “degrade the honor” – a phrase left ambiguously ill-defined – of the House of Representatives appears to restore the idea that politicians are beyond reproach. So controversial was the law that even President Jokowi refused to sign it, despite knowing it would come into force without his approval.

Military Reform

The reform of the Indonesian military has a mixed scorecard. On the positive side of the ledger, the armed forces are formally out of politics, having rolled back the core ideology of dwifungsi (dual function, in Indonesian), which legitimated involvement in political and security affairs. The military has also prevented active officers from holding civilian positions in the bureaucracy and military businesses have ground to a halt. Many were bankrupted after the financial crisis while the rest were required by law to be transferred to the government by 2009.

On the negative side are vestiges of other New Order practices. For one, the military’s widespread territorial system remains in place, arguably an essential part of monitoring potential conflict but, according to Marcus Mietzner, “the military’s foundation of power since the 1950s.” At the local level, the military is also involved in development, such as bolstering food security through rice distribution and building roads. For particularly remote communities, the military’s assistance is justified. However, some analysts argue that this system merely entrenches the military’s domestic security role rather than reforming it, and inhibits the capacity development of civilian agencies. The result is a self-fulfilling prophecy: the more some communities depend on the services of the military, the more the military will argue their service delivery function is essential. 

The current generation of military leadership does not carry the same stigma of human rights abuses as commanders during the East Timor occupation. Many have experienced the bulk of their career in the post-New Order era. There are, accordingly, shifts in the military’s attitudes and beliefs about its role in politics and the use of violence.

At the same time, many of the old guard from the New Order wield influence in civilian positions. The former head of the Indonesian National Armed Forces (TNI) from 1998 to 1999, General Wiranto, now holds a key position in Jokowi’s cabinet as Coordinating Minister for Political, Legal and Security Affairs. Add to that former special forces commander and businessman General Luhut Panjaitan as Coordinating Minister for Maritime Affairs and former Army chief General Ryamizard Ryacudu as Defense Minister. The pattern has continued even with younger generation officers. General Moeldoko, military chief from 2013 to 2015, now serves as Cabinet Secretary.

Jokowi has also tried to build better relations with the military as the latter’s political support is still seen as indispensable for electoral success. He is the first president not to come from an elite background and although he has a strong mandate to lead, he is aware that his non-military credentials need the armed forces’ political capital.

There is still a perception, held predominantly by human rights groups and democracy activists, that despite reforms, the military avoids serious sanction over human rights abuses. In 2013, masked Army special forces (Kopassus) soldiers raided a prison in southern Java, shooting dead four detainees. The deaths of the detainees, who were known to be preman or gangsters, was retaliation for their alleged killing of another Kopassus soldier during a bar fight. When the soldiers were sentenced for the extrajudicial killings, the local community protested in support of the soldiers’ actions, arguing that the deaths removed a social scourge. In other words, the community was in favor of the military, rather than the police, taking the law into their own hands. The people were further protective of the soldiers in light of the humanitarian assistance Kopassus members provided in the wake of a serious volcano eruption years earlier. In the community’s eyes, the military is well and truly their defenders.

Two decades after its unceremonious fall from grace, the Indonesian military is still one of the country’s most trusted institutions, according to polls. The police, on the other hand, are one of the least trusted. These kinds of positive perceptions have contributed to augmenting the military’s role in counterterrorism, enshrined in the latest revisions to the counterterrorism law.

Despite the end of the New Order, one thing is clear: the military maintains its influence through more complex and subtle forms of political participation, which run counter to expectations of civil-military relations norms.

Civil Society Still Shines… Mostly

The shining light in Indonesia’s post-New Order era has been civil society. This has included Islamic organizations such as Muhammadiyah and Nahdlatul Ulama, which were both established in the early 1900s and played a key role supporting student activists in 1998. Other groups comprising civil society today represent a broad spectrum of religions, interests, identities, and rights. While the New Order stifled political freedom, it allowed public participation in civic affairs, albeit through a state-managed programs in support of national values. When change came, it was not difficult for the energies of these activist groups to be directed to new goals in support of democratic ends.

While thriving for two decades, this more liberalized freedom of association and expression has met some limits. For example, the increasingly vocal activities of more hardline Islamic groups in democratic Indonesia have caused consternation. In July last year, the government introduced a regulation that would allow the Ministry of Justice to ban certain mass organizations without recourse through the courts. Previously groups were issued three warnings before being disbanded through a legal process. Coordinating Minister for Political, Security and Legal Affairs Wiranto explained that the regulation was “not meant to limit freedom of assembly, it is merely aimed at maintaining unity and safeguarding the nation's existence.” The government has since used the regulation to ban Hizbut Tahrir Indonesia, an Islamist organization accused of undermining the national ideology of Pancasila. Critics say the banning of Hizbut Tahrir Indonesia, which is also banned in several Muslim countries, sets a dangerous precedent for the regulation’s misuse in future.

One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

While Javanese politicians still hold a monopoly on top political posts, other ethnic groups are more empowered in political representation outside of the capital. Decentralization has led to the “renaissance of local identities,” in contrast with the New Order’s “uniformization” policies, which placed Javanese and Sundanese officials in charge of local government. Now, voters can choose local candidates as their representatives, with candidates’ community ties (along with patronage tactics) seen as vital for success. In order to appeal to as many voters as possible in a given district, many candidates are incentivized to choose running mates from different ethnic or religious backgrounds. The overall effect is greater stability and inter-group cooperation throughout the archipelago.

Nevertheless, the high-profile downfall in 2016 of Jakarta’s governor and former Jokowi deputy, Basuki Tjahaja Purnama (also known as “Ahok”) who is an ethnically Chinese Christian, is emblematic of the ways in which ethnic and religious intolerance can be fanned for political ends. One social media user uploaded edited footage of Ahok reciting a verse from the Quran. Political rivals seized upon Ahok’s words as blasphemy, a crime under Indonesian law, calling for his arrest and mobilizing mass rallies in the defense of Islam. Although not all protestors objected to his ethnic background, the visceral anti-Chinese sentiment in public discourse was reminiscent of the outpouring of hate in 1998. Haunted by that era’s violence, Jakarta’s Chinese community feared reprisals and is likely to be deterred from such political heights lest ethnicity be wielded again as a weapon.

Such rising intolerance in public discourse has also been directed toward Indonesia’s LGBT community. Human rights groups have decried the steady erosion of protection for minority rights through crackdowns by police and vigilante groups. Ministers in Jokowi’s cabinet have also spoken out against LGBT practices, labelling them as Western ills designed to undermine Indonesian social cohesion. As Sana Jaffrey recently noted, the illiberal drift of Indonesia’s civil society is not about just about the propagation of intolerant views but “the reinsertion of state interests and resources in the civic space.”

Cleaning up Corruption

Corruption remains a feature of Indonesian politics and society. The decentralization of funds into the districts has also meant the redistribution of corruption. According to Transparency International’s Corruption Perceptions Index 2017, Indonesia ranked 96th out of 180. The creation of better oversight, accountability, and prosecution mechanisms such as the Corruption Eradication Commission (KPK) established in 2002 are earnest attempts to bring corruption under control. The inclusion of “fit and proper tests” for elected representatives as well as military and police chiefs attempt to bring greater transparency into leadership positions. Press freedom has meant high-profile cases have made front pages.

The KPK is a beacon of hope, despite attacks on its powers and on its staff. In April last year, investigator Novel Baswedan was rendered blind in one eye and partially blind in the other when acid was thrown into his face. It was the sixth assault on him in the course of his work. His success in bringing in local politicians and even the chief justice of Indonesia’s Constitutional Court, caught in a sting operation accepting bribes to rule on contested elections, made him a target. Nevertheless, the KPK continues to fight against corruption, in November last year taking into custody one of their most high-ranking suspects, speaker of the House of Representatives Setya Novanto, in connection with state losses of $225 million as part of a national identity card scheme.

Where Is Indonesia Headed?

All things considered, despite the immediate spike in violence in the outer islands, Indonesia did not “balkanize” as many predicted it would in 1998. Its immediate post-New Order leadership, particularly Habibie, took significant steps toward ameliorating the enormous economic crisis the country was facing while providing political freedoms and a devolution of power that would lead to greater stability.

As Indonesia heads into its third decade of democracy, there are indeed worrying signs about the erosion of certain rights and freedoms. Several key players from the New Order remain, even taking posts in Jokowi’s cabinet. Yet they operate in a different Indonesia, one in which the Indonesian people expect and will wield accountability at the polls. While Indonesia might not be a liberal democracy, its electoral democratic traditions, legal processes, human rights groups, vibrant press, and civil society confer an inner strength that is perhaps not always conveyed alongside distressing headlines. Against the odds, Indonesia has survived its democratic transition and continues to thrive.