What Remains of Reformasi in Today’s Indonesia
This week marks the 79th anniversary of Indonesia’s independence. Celebrations will take place all around Indonesia, including upacara bendera (flag-raising ceremonies), parades in some cities, and festive and traditional games in local communities.
I was born during a period of widespread bloodshed in my country between 1965 and 1966. So, basically, I grew up under Soeharto’s totalitarian rule (1967–1998). Only after Reformasi (Reformation)1998 in my thirties, did I realize what true democracy is.
From my childhood to high school in Surakarta, Central Java, I had to attend flag-raising ceremonies at my schools every year. These ceremonies were a symbol of our independence. But even as a child, I sometimes felt disconnected, wilting in the scorching sun while standing firmly at attention. Several decades later, I thought this discomfort might reflect the anxious character of political reality during Suharto’s regime at that time, when the illusion of independence hid the terrible reality of an authoritarian power.
However, I enjoyed traditional community games. The informal celebrations, which included traditional games and competitions such as makan kerupuk (eating crackers), balap karung (sack races), and panjat pinang (climbing a slippery pole), were etched into my memory. Actually, I rarely engaged actively. I watched the games while searching for traditional snacks and food during the event.
As I’ve grown older and witnessed how the political situation has evolved, the meaning of independence has taken on a more complex and, at times, troubling significance. I notice a contrast between the innocent patriotism of my youth and the more complex feelings I hold today.
Despite our independence in 1945, we lived in an era without actual freedom and democracy under Suharto’s regime. The “New Order” administration centralized power, suppressed political dissent, and curtailed civil freedoms, with the military playing a dominant role in governance, economics, and society. Corruption, collusion, and cronyism were widespread, benefiting a small elite while the general public suffered economic disparities and repression. The press was heavily censored, and any criticism of the regime resulted in harsh consequences like imprisonment and enforced disappearance. Thus, while the country was formally independent, we were not truly independent of his dictatorship.
Reformasi in 1998 was a game changer in our lives. It brought an end to Suharto’s long and oppressive rule, allowing us to finally breathe and speak out. We suddenly had legitimate elections and more freedom of expression, and the military stepped back from politics. Corruption remained an issue, but at least we could begin battling it openly. The country became increasingly democratic, with local governments given more authority to make their own decisions. It was not perfect, but it was a significant step toward full freedom and a brighter future for everybody.
Since the fall of Soeharto, Indonesia has seen significant changes in its leadership. The nation has had five presidents, with two of them—Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono (SBY) and Joko Widodo (Jokowi)—directly elected by the people. However, during Jokowi’s second term in the last five years, new challenges have emerged that threaten to undo these democratic gains.
The issues we face today under Jokowi’s second term administration appear to follow in the footsteps of those dark periods. While the methods differ, the underlying issue remains the same: a concentration of power that jeopardizes the very liberties that our independence was intended to protect. Reflecting on the road from Soeharto’s era to Reformasi’s democratic reforms, it is apparent that the struggle for true independence and democracy is far from over.
During Jokowi’s second term, Indonesia was considered a “democratic backsliding.” There are concerns about the weakening of anti-corruption measures through the weakening of the Corruption Eradication Commission (KPK), as well as the growing involvement of military elites in politics. Many saw Indonesia as a reversal of the democratic reforms that had separated the military and civilian governments since Reformasi. The February 2024 presidential elections, as well as the upcoming regional elections in November of this year, highlighted these challenges.
While my concerns about the current state of our democracy under Jokowi’s administration are deeply felt, I understand that many Indonesians continue to view his leadership favorably. Recent surveys show that a significant portion of the public expresses satisfaction with Jokowi’s performance, largely due to his focus on social assistance programs (“bansos”). Interestingly, satisfaction levels are particularly high among lower socioeconomic classes and those with less education, who may feel the most immediate impact of this “bansos” program.
During Suharto’s era, I witnessed a strong connection between both the middle class and the poor as we all struggled during the Asian Financial Crisis, forcing us to work together against the oppressive government. However, during Jokowi’s second term, I noticed a change: the wealthy continued to fund and support the government because they benefited from protection and privileges, while the poor received social assistance (“bansos”) paid for by the taxes I and other middle-class citizens paid. This made me feel squeezed and abandoned, as it seemed that only the middle class was grumbling while other classes benefited in other ways.
My feelings reflect a broader trend affecting Indonesia’s middle class. According to recent analyses, the middle class, traditionally seen as the backbone of the economy, is shrinking as rising living costs, stagnant wages, and increasing informal employment push many into economic vulnerability. Data shows that the proportion of Indonesia’s middle class has decreased significantly since 2019, with many slipping into the aspiring middle class or even poverty.
Meanwhile, government policies, while providing benefits to lower-income groups through social assistance programs, have often overlooked the unique challenges faced by the middle class. This economic pressure has left the middle class feeling marginalized and increasingly burdened by the demands of daily survival.
Aside from that analysis, it was reported that:
The middle class has the highest rate of mental health disorders.
Followed by political news (or comedies?):
10 Years of Jokowi: A Decade of Declining Democracy and the Destruction of the Hopes of Reformasi.
I expected to be cheered up when reading about the preparations for this year’s Independence Day events. Then I discovered this:
The Ministry of Finance has announced that the budget for the Independence Day ceremony on August 17 at Nusantara Capital City (IKN) will be IDR 87 billion (about USD 5.65 million).
This is much more than last year’s Jakarta celebration, which cost IDR 53 billion. This is also a significantly high price, given that the next government (which will take office in October of this year) intends to provide free lunch for children at IDR 15,000 (USD 0.96) per meal. USD 5.65 million could feed around 5.9 million children.
The aforementioned news does not need to be confusing only for foreigners. As an Indonesian, I am likewise perplexed (and frustrated). I’ve lost my appetite for this year’s Independence Day celebration.
My mood is reflected in the lyrics of an Indonesian song:
Kulihat ibu pertiwi (I see Mother Earth). Sedang bersusah hati (In sorrow and distress). Air matanya berlinang (Her tears are flowing). Mas intan yang terkenang (Remembering her golden treasures)
Hutan, gunung, sawah, and lautan (Forests, mountains, rice fields, and oceans). Simpanan kekayaan (Her abundant riches). Kini ibu sedang lara (now she is in pain). Merintih dan berdoa (Groaning and praying)
I kept finding ways to brighten myself up. Let’s see what I got from Reformasi that is still in place today. After taking stock, I can only see one thing that might still exist: press freedom. The fact that I can still access, read, watch, listen to, and write news that both praises and criticizes the regime indicates the existence of press freedom in this country. So I comfort myself: Let’s enjoy it while it lasts.
My energy levels were not as high as they had been in my thirties. After all, the middle class represents just roughly 20–30% of the population. Inside, Generation Z and millenials are working hard to support themselves and their families in order to avoid a mental collapse and falling into poverty. As a senior citizen, who am I to complain to them about their continued silence?
However, the fact that I still have a single treasure from Reformasi, media freedom, has made me realize that we have to protect Reformasi’s legacy. If it is taken away from us, we might have nothing left. I might not be able to access foreign media anymore. The local media might not be able to do investigative journalism. Who knows. So, if the last thing we have is going to be taken away from us, I might reconsider, find my energy, and be driven to rejoin the action as if I were still young. Perhaps my first step would be to reflect and write a Medium piece similar to this one before it is too late.
With this in mind, I decided to attend the community Independence Day celebration today to enjoy what I have in my neighborhood: traditional games and delicious traditional foods.
Update (August 22, 2024): Rapid Developments in Indonesia’s Political Landscape
Significant political developments have occurred in the days since the publication of this article.
Mass protests have erupted across the country in response to the government’s attempt to overturn a recent constitutional court decision that would have allowed smaller parties to compete in elections.
A viral “Peringatan Darurat” (Emergency Warning) poster has been widely shared on social media. This poster, featuring the Garuda Pancasila, symbolizes the public’s outrage over the new Regional Election Bill, which is seen as undermining recent judicial decisions. Public figures, activists, and citizens alike are using this symbol to voice their concerns about the erosion of democratic principles.
