Prabowo welcoming Jokowi to the newly inaugurated Great Commander Soedirman State Defense Central Hospital in Jakarta. — AFP
DAYS before Indonesia’s Feb 14 election, I already felt extremely tense and anxious about the prospect of Prabowo Subianto and his running mate Gibran Rakabuming Raka winning.
On Feb 14, when this became a reality, indeed, a nightmare, I sank into a deep depression. I shared my feelings with a few friends, including a European ambassador who blithely responded, “Don’t be sad. It’s democracy”.
Given the rawness of my emotions, that was all the trigger I needed.
“Your comment is masculinist-patriarchal, condescending-patronising, superficial-simplistic and indicates you don’t have much knowledge about Indonesian democracy, even after almost X years here!”, I lashed out at him on WhatsApp. Perhaps I was a bit harsh – sorry Mr Ambassador! – maybe I should have been more diplomatic. At the same time, I think my reaction was understandable.
I lived for 32 years under the authoritarian New Order (1966-1998), and 25 years in the Reform Era (1998-). The fact that all the struggle and blood-sweat-and-tears sacrifices that I and so many others have made to democratise Indonesia, were knocked down like a house of cards, was devastating.
Serving Indonesia had always been my raison d être, and to have my efforts, idealism and hopes, trivialised this way, instantly brought out my fangs. The media has been replete with analysis about why a Prabowo presidency could mean a serious setback for Indonesian democracy, which has already been in decline for a while under Joko “Jokowi” Widodo (and even before). In the case of Prabowo, it is not just about his past human rights record, but also his vision for Indonesia’s future, a neo-New Order of Soeharto – his former father-in-law. Jokowi has already become an embodiment of Soeharto’s developmentalism, especially in his second term (2019-2024), and Prabowo promised its continuity.
Not that I felt the other two candidates were worthy of my support either. Anies Baswedan could spell the increased politicisation of Islam, with conservative Islam at the forefront. While Ganjar Pranowo states in his vision-mission statement that he will save the environment, in the past he defended capitalism.
Despite a Supreme Court ruling mandating that a cement factory in the Kendeng Mountain area in Rembang, Central Java be halted due to its causing environmental destruction, Ganjar, as governor of Central Java, issued a permit that defied the court ruling and revived the construction project (The Jakarta Post, March 24, 2017).
But what has puzzled me most, and many others, was Jokowi’s metamorphosis from a down-to-earth reformist president, to a “Little Soeharto”. His appeal to voters was his lack of connection to the elite, the oligarchy, the military and any Islamic political grouping, as well as the fact that he did not seem corrupt.
At the beginning of his presidency, Jokowi promised to eradicate corruption, overhaul the bureaucracy, upgrade Indonesia’s cracking infrastructure, facilitate investment, boost economic growth, create a “mental revolution” and resolve past human rights violations. From this long list, he only succeeded in implementing two: expanding infrastructure and aggressively attracting investment. Perhaps also some economic growth. For the rest, he failed miserably.
What was equally perplexing was his blatant and shameless flouting of the rules, treating Indonesia as his fiefdom and engaging in nepotism to build his political dynasty. The Constitutional Court under Anwar Usman, Jokowi’s brother-in-law, changed the rules so that Gibran could run for vice president. Previously, presidential and vice presidential candidates needed to be at least 40 years old.
How did Jokowi, “the child of the Reform” – manage instead to produce the “illegitimate child of the Constitution”, which is what Gibran has been named and will go down in history as?
Could it be that after becoming president, he became addicted to power?
According to Gabor Maté, the Canadian physician and renowned trauma and addiction expert, childhood trauma leads to addiction. What childhood trauma did Jokowi experience that led to his addiction to power?
The poverty of his family when he was a child is clearly portrayed in the 2013 biographical film Jokowi. Did that traumatise him or give him an inferiority complex? Did he want to prove that a country bumpkin like him could do even better than presidents who came from the ruling elite? Or do we simply need to look to the old adage that “power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely”?
Maté explains that there are two things humans need for survival: attachment and authenticity. With regards the latter, we must live our lives according to our own needs and values, rather than those expected of us by society. Attachment is needed for survival, facilitated by endorphins, hormones released during pain or pleasure. I do believe that Jokowi’s authentic self is good and humble, and that he wants to cater to the general good. But “fate” suddenly catapulted him into the world of the rich, famous and powerful.
Power became his endorphin. To survive in his new circle, he had to be attached to it – the small pantheon of Indonesian presidents, and the wider society of ruling elites and the oligarchy – and therefore had to conform. He did so in the most egregious way and has destroyed Indonesian democracy while sacrificing his authentic self, the wong ndeso (country bumpkin) self he so proudly introduced himself as during his first presidential campaign and at the beginning of his term in 2014.
He quickly adopted the politics of accommodation, content to be a mere politician while harbouring megalomaniacal ambitions. Hence his grand infrastructure projects, the most ambitious of which being the new capital in East Kalimantan.
If he had chosen to be a reformer – and possibly a statesman - it would have alienated him from the ruling elite and oligarchic circle. He would have created powerful enemies, and even could have been ousted as president. To go against the stream, you must be spiritually powerful, which it seems Jokowi is not. He therefore needs the external trappings of power, which is sadly what counts in today’s world.
The 2024 election has been described as the worst of all six elections we have had since Reformasi. In fact, it has been compared to the series of dystopian novels The Hunger Games.
Jokowi, the political parties and the others involved in the election have played according to the most important Hunger Games rule: power. Tragically, this will lead not only to the destruction of democracy, but also humanity. — The Jakarta Post/ANN
Julia Suryakusuma is the author of Julia’s Jihad. The views expressed here are solely the writer’s own.
