Introduction

Young Indonesians today have a completely different political experience than previous generations. They were infants, and today's teenagers had yet to be born, when Soeharto resigned on 21 May 1998 amidst massive student protests and popular unrest. They never experienced New Order authoritarianism, and have only vague recollections of the turbulent years of reform (1998–2003) with their sharp political conflicts. They came of age in a post-reformasi climate that is restlessly looking forward, with little memory of the past regime and the struggles that spurred its demise. They have been educated in a neoliberal policy context that grooms them for a role as “quality human resources” — the generation that will realize the nation's technocratic aspirations — with scant encouragement to participate in political life.

And yet, this is also a young generation that is actively seeking social and political change, and that is willing to take action against perceived injustices and deprivation; this includes the deprivation they experience themselves due to the growing inaccessibility and rationalization of higher education and the increasingly insecure labour market that awaits them (Sutopo 2014). How they take action — which channels and methods they use, which issues they take up, and how they frame these issues ideologically — has important implications for the direction of political struggle, considering that political struggles in Indonesia have always been spurred by radical youth activism, and that these struggles remain relevant in the post-reformasi era, in which political and civic rights remain secondary to elite party interests. Will today's young people be able to pose a radical challenge to Indonesia's entrenched politics?

At first glance, there are few signs of such a radical potential. Reports indicate that the majority of young people feel disengaged and alienated from politics (Gnanasagaran 2018). Many former student activists from the 1990s further lament that young people are alienated from the agenda of “total reform” that they initiated in 1998. This agenda for progressive political change has never been fully realized, but few students today seem willing to continue its cause. In post-reformasi Indonesia, young people's political participation seems to be mostly limited to social media activism or “clicktivism” and the ephemeral public actions it occasionally sparks (Lim 2013) — a far cry from the mass mobilizations that young activists engaged in during the 1990s and early 2000s, often joining forces with marginalized social sectors such as factory workers and peasants.

Introduction

Political corruption is a major source of many problems in Indonesia. The main reason for corruption being so widespread in this sphere is the high cost that burdens politicians when attempting to be elected as members of central or district parliaments, senators, governors or mayors, and even president. I will discuss in this chapter the major examples of corruption in the election process for local leaders (Pemilihan Kepala Daerah, Pilkada), both prior to and after the change to direct elections for these posts. Pilkada cases were selected as the example for this chapter because it has been within the new electoral system that corruption has most flourished. Ironically, Pilkada initially was believed to be the key to the fundamental changes in local politics after the New Order era to facilitate the end of the systemic, centralistic corruption and non-democratic regime. Unfortunately, the results go in the opposite direction.

The New Order: Centralization and Political Hegemony

During the New Order, the election of heads of regional government was regulated by Law No. 5/1974 on regional government.

In this law, Regional House of Representatives (Dewan Perwakilan Rakyat Daerah, DPRD) members were given the authority to elect heads of regional government, but the nomination and inauguration of proposed candidates were carried out by the Ministry of Home Affairs. This was the form of central government intervention into the regions and was evident in Article 15 governing the election of the governor:

Introduction

Ideology and political actors are two sides of a coin. Ideology guides political actors’ attitudes and behaviours. Ideology informs their political world views and how they position themselves among other political actors. As emphasized by Hofmeister and Grabow (2011, p. 24), “[I]deologies are comprehensive visions of societies and social developments, which contain explanations, values, and goals for past, present and future developments. Ideologies inspire and justify political and social action. They are an essential element for political orientation.” Conversely, political actors serve as ideological tools, vessels through which ideologies are translated into attitudes and behaviours in the political system. As such, political actors have an important role in translating ideology into political action.

To date, research into ideology and political parties in Indonesia has been limited to how ideology influences policy-making. Several studies, for instance Liddle and Mujani (2007), Slater (2018), Ambardi (2008), and Mietzner (2012), argued that the ideologies of Indonesia's political parties have become increasingly difficult to distinguish from each other. Other studies, such as those by Baswedan (2004) and Mietzner (2012), explained that political parties in Indonesia have maintained their ideologies, at least on strategic issues.

In presidential government systems, the ideologies of political parties are closely linked to the policies implemented by the president. Theoretically, there are two different possible types of relations between presidents and the ideologies of political parties. Firstly, ideologies and political parties may influence the policies enacted by a president. In this assumption, there is no difference between members of parliament and a president working to translate the ideologies and platforms of their supporting parties into public policies. Secondly, the policies adopted by a president may influence the ideologies and programmes of political parties. This has occurred, for example, in the United States, where various policies implemented by the country's president have effected shifts in the programmes of the political party backing him (Lewis 2016).

What, then, is the relationship between the policies of Indonesia's president and the ideologies and programmes of Indonesia's political parties within a multiparty system? Some studies have examined how Joko Widodo (henceforth Jokowi) attempted to implement various policies in the early years of his presidency.

President Joko Widodo (Jokowi) has shown more interest in Papua than any of his predecessors. He campaigned in Papua as a candidate in 2014. He won a strong majority of the vote in both Papuan provinces, with levels of support among the highest in the country. As president, Jokowi has visited Papua more often than earlier presidents and he has visited Papua more frequently than any other province outside Java.

Jokowi's appeal to voters in Papua was easier to explain than his interest in Papua. During the campaign he had discussed the possibility of a political dialogue, raised the prospect of addressing human rights issues and his informal political style was thought to appeal to the voters. Jokowi also had the great advantage of not being Prabowo Subianto, his opponent in the 2014 Presidential campaign, who is remembered in Papua for his record of human rights abuses in 1996 (IPAC 2014). There was little in his background in business or as mayor of Solo and governor of Jakarta to suggest why Jokowi should show an interest in one of Indonesia's most intractable issues.

During a visit to New Zealand in March 2018, Fransiscus Orlando, a Papuan student, asked the president what motivated him to make so many visits to Papua. Jokowi related how Papua had been neglected for far too long, but it was part of the Unitary State of Indonesia (NKRI) and had to be paid attention. He recalled his visit to the highland district of Nduga in December 2015.

Nduga district strongly supported Jokowi in the 2014 election, but it has come to represent many of the problems the Jokowi's government confronts in Papua, beyond the poor infrastructure noted by the president.

Background

One of the earliest and most significant transformations implemented as part of reform in Indonesia since 1998 has been the restructuring of relations between the national government in Jakarta and local governments. In the early years of independence, demands for representation and access to resources and economic activities led to what were widely termed “regional rebellions” in several parts of Indonesia: Aceh, West Sumatra, and North and South Sulawesi. Incidents between 1950 and the early 1960s, which Harvey (1977) labelled “half-hearted rebellions”, led to the creation of new autonomous regions (provinces, regencies, cities) as well as the granting of special autonomy to Aceh. At the same time, as late over the course of the New Order, the government promoted the migration of local capitalists to Jakarta, where they either entered new activity spaces or lost their local living spaces. Examples are the migration of local entrepreneurial families — such as Kalla, Hasyim Ning, Bakrie, etc. — and the end of local economic dynasties, such as the Pardede in North Sumatra. As will be discussed in further detail, the demand to restructure centre–local relations after 1998 marked a reversal of this trend, as local entrepreneurial forces became stronger and offered an alternative means of recruiting local political elites.

Under the authoritarian New Order regime, such demands were never openly voiced. However, haunted by the spectre of previous regional rebellions, Jakarta took a number of preventive measures aggressively to consolidate its power through its increasingly strict regional penetration and control. This meant rampant centralization, which occurred together with widespread standardization. Over time, this created highly unbalanced power relations, “Jakarta” seemingly becoming synonymous with Indonesia as a whole (Lay 2001).

The central government's preventive measures were comprehensive. First, they included the creation of a military structure parallel to the civil one, from the (inter-)provincial level — represented by the Regional Military Command (Komando Daerah Militer) — to the village level — the Village Guidance Unit (Bintara Pembina Desa, Babinsa). Military commanders at each level became part of the local strategic decisionmaking institution known as a “council of leadership” (musyawarah pimpinan) at the regional (provincial/regency/city) and district levels.

This book is primarily the outcome of a workshop held at the ISEAS – Yusof Ishak Institute, Singapore in March 2018. Thirteen researchers studying contemporary Indonesian politics gathered at the Institute to discuss the extent to which the previous several years had ushered in a “new politics” or whether such a process was indeed evolving. The discussion also involved other researchers from the ISEAS Indonesian Studies Programme acting as discussants to the ideas presented by those who have contributed chapters. As reflected in this volume, the majority of those present were Indonesia-based researchers.

The reason for asking such questions about the extent of political change was that such a discussion was rife among both observers of Indonesian politics as well as actors and participants. In 2014, Joko Widodo, a furniture manufacturer and former mayor of the provincial city of Solo was elected president of Indonesia, defeating Prabowo Subianto, a Soeharto-era general and part of the milieu of conglomerate capital that had been dominant for so long in Indonesia. Was the election of a president from such a different social milieu than that which was seen to be previously dominant a symptom of deeper changes in Indonesian politics? Or was this new development less significant than many thought?

The eleven chapters in this book are a product of the workshop discussion as well as a reflection of the ongoing assessment of the individual authors. The topic is too wide and complex to expect a collection of 11 contributions such as this book to give definitive answers or resolve major issues. Furthermore, the chapters are not meant to reflect a consensual outcome but rather represent 11 individual contributions to a discussion of political developments over the last several years, especially in relation to the issue of the depth and extent of political change. Although with an eye to the question of change versus continuity, these contributions also focus on specific aspects of recent developments. Only the first chapter makes an attempt to give a general picture of developments based on the materials in this book. It is likely that other kinds of summations of this material are also possible.

The period between 1998 and 2014 in Indonesian politics was defined by a political project necessitated by the fall of Soeharto in 1998 and the end of a specific form of political rule: dictatorship. May 1998 did not mark only the end of the overwhelming power of a specific individual – Soeharto – but at the same time the demolition of the whole structure of political rule that existed at that time. Between 1965 and 1998, and especially from 1972, political power had become centralized in one man, with structures that gave reality to that. These included a national military structure and ideology that both gave the army a physical presence at every level of administration, from national to village, and openly legitimized a repressive role for the army in politics. As president, Soeharto was Supreme Commander of the Armed Forces, backed by a loyal network of officers originating from the time when he was still an active officer himself. This centralized mechanism of repression and control was paralleled by a semi-theatrical electoral and representative structure, in which only three political parties, selected by Soeharto, were allowed and in which the repressive apparatus was able to intervene to determine the personnel and policies of all three. The press and civil society were severely restricted.

Following a complicated evolution and growth of an opposition, even in the face of this repression and at some cost to life and liberty, Soeharto was forced to resign. The removal of the linchpin of the system in the face of popular opposition forced a broad coalition of elite politicians and groups that filled the vacuum left by his departure to concede to the demand for political reform. The military's role in repression stopped (except in the provinces of Papua). The electoral and representative system was opened up to more parties — essentially only communist and separatist parties were banned. Most restrictions of the press and civil society were lifted.

The dismantling of the structures of dictatorship required replacement structures. The primary structure that has become the scaffolding of the present system is the electoral and representative systems. Which groups control the national and local government apparatus is now processed through elections.

Introduction

Confronted with the gradual advance of democratic discourse and institutions in post-reformasi Indonesia, Indonesian political Islam movements — ranging from Front Pembela Islam (Islam Defender Front, FPI), Hizbut Tahrir Indonesia (HTI), Majelis Intelektual dan Ulama Muda Indonesia (Indonesian Council of Young Intellectual and Ulama, MIUMI), Wahdah Islamiyah, to Forum Umat Islam (Islamic Community Forum, FUI) — have been compelled to readjust their strategies to ensure their adaptation to the new political landscape. Although they initially conceived democracy as harmful and incompatible with Islamic faith, political Islam movements have gradually adopted various strategies that enable them to enter the democratic arena and be recognized as legitimate players within it. They have attempted to demonstrate stronger compliance with democratic norms and rules and make several adjustments in their ideological stance —especially on the relationship between Islam, democracy, pluralism, and the nation-state — to justify those strategies.

However, the desire to retain conservative aspirations — such as the rejection of the election of non-Muslim leaders, support the ban on religious minority groups, and persecution against the LGBTQ+ community — remain strong among political Islam activists. Their strategies mainly revolve around attempts to widen their access to state power or to push the state to create conditions favourable for the growth of conservative ways of life. The tension between political Islam's engagement with democracy and its insistence on a conservative agenda subsequently creates a situation where conservative ideas are increasingly articulated through democratic avenues.

The manoeuvre of political Islam movements to enter the democratic arena is crucial because the groups were previously excluded from the centre of Indonesia's national political arena through the continuous argument by pro-democracy activists, government, and international donors that political Islam threatened democracy, pluralism, and national unity. By implication, so this argument goes, they should not be considered as legitimate players in democratization. The decision of political Islam movements to adopt democratic rhetoric, as part of its efforts to win control over democratic institutions, is intended to overcome its exclusion.

Compared to political Islam's preceding strategies, their recent manoeuvre is relatively novel. Prior to this, the movements tended to distance themselves from the state. It was only during the last decade of Soeharto's administration that these groups acquired a wider access to the state. Prior to the 1990s, political Islam had to avoid political activism due to New Order persecution.

This chapter explores the politics of the middle class in Indonesia after reformasi. It argues that different sections of the middle class have expanded their political roles into more and varied arenas than in the previous era. They are also increasingly ideologically fragmented, and this pattern relates to the type of resources they base themselves upon: either state resources or those from the market.

Generally, the social entity located in the “middle” — between a wealthy elite and a mass of the poor — economically, socially and politically is regarded as the “middle class”. One point of view regards the middle class as inherently having progressive or at least liberal political views and as being independent from dominant political and economic power. Socially, they are seen as distinct too: they have a stronger educational background (compared to the rest of the population), and this allows them access to social and economic resources. They may not be rich, but with their social network, they can access significantly greater resources than the poor majority. However, in the context of Indonesia, it is not clear that all of the middle class can be described as having such liberal political views. If we use that as a defining feature, we will focus only on groups outside the state, ignoring those inside.

Taking into account the above factors, this chapter explores the Indonesian middle class in two areas: the middle class in the political society arena (parties and legislature), and the middle class in the civil society arena. The first group are members of the middle class who have careers in national and local politics. They make a living (in addition to any other income) from their participation in electoral institutions. The second group are activists, both professional (working for non-governmental organizations or NGOs), and non-professional (who voluntarily contribute on issues they think important). While the first group is very political, in the sense of being directly oriented to power, there are varieties in the second. They can be grouped relating to their view on democratic politics: pro-politics or anti-politics. Sociologically, those active in these two arenas belong to the middle class. If they did not have access to middle class resources, they would not be able to become a member of parliament, or even a candidate. The same applies to activists in civil society.

Introduction

Political parties’ work is commonly assessed primarily on whether they are developing “policy programs giving voters clear choices in elections” and are “sufficiently disciplined and cohesive in the parliamentary assembly to implement these programs” (Dalton et al. 2011). Based on these criteria, Indonesian parties have performed very poorly. Similarly, as party institutionalization is an integral element to “ensure effective governance” through accountability and stability of interests and broadly targeted programmes, again Indonesian parties are failing (Hicken and Kuhonta 2011, p. 573). While there is a level of agreement among scholars that Indonesia's political parties have made significant progress in building stable roots in society and performing certain functions (Ufen 2010; Mietzner 2013), it is also clear that they remain among the most corrupt institutions in the country. Parties’ role in resource distribution and nomination of public positions has often led to graft cases, and party politicians have dominated as corruption suspects. Parties were seen as one of the factors for Indonesia's democratic stagnation (Mietzner 2012). The parties’ representatives in the state and local parliaments are also known to be highly inefficient in their work ethics and prone to serving and preserving their own interests, rather than aggregating and accommodating public interests (Sherlock 2010).

Despite these problems, parties have indeed changed since 1998. Indonesia and its parties have dramatically advanced as a vibrant democracy. This chapter assesses the progress of parties twenty years after the fall of authoritarianism in Indonesia. Drawing from the works of various scholars, it synthesizes the arguments to highlight the shifts, adjustments, and adaptations that the parties have undertaken. Factors such as legal and institutional changes, as well as global and national trends, have all played a part in the evolution of parties post-Soeharto. The following discussion outlines these various elements and attaches them to major themes: parties as organizations, in elections, and in government.

It is argued in the following sections that, although parties have progressed in the institutionalization process, there are certain vacuums and perversions of their roles. In performing their primary function as the linkage between voters and government, in simplifying the choices in elections, recruiting and training candidates, organizing the work of government, and implementing policies and organizing governmental administration (Dalton et al. 2011, pp. 6–7), parties have been neither active nor efficient.

Introduction

This chapter is about the process of creating political legitimacy in post-reform Indonesia (see next session for a discussion of “legitimacy”). The phenomena will be examined by analysing the emergence of Joko Widodo (Jokowi) in Solo, as mayor, later as governor of Jakarta (July 2012), and finally as president (in 2014). His political emergence has provided an alternative to the established political leadership path. Previously that path was open primarily to Jakarta-based politicians or those originating within the established political class with backgrounds as generals, members of prominent political dynasties, owners of national business conglomerates, outspoken political activists, or senior national government officials.

Jokowi is not in any of these categories. His emergence at a national political level was enabled by his popularity as a local government leader in Solo with a strong image in effective reform. The emergence of a figure like Jokowi cannot be separated from the democratic transition in Indonesia, and the introduction of direct elections for local government leaders in 2004–5, which has created a closer connection between candidates and voters. One of the main characteristics of local direct elections is the centrality of personalities or figures. Political parties are certainly central to candidate nomination, but in many places non-party figures, such as business people, bureaucrats, professionals, religious leaders, local aristocrats and community leaders, are becoming more appealing and have even become the first preference of political parties.

Figure-based politics has become a general trend in Indonesian democracy, particularly following the introduction of direct presidential elections and the open-list legislative electoral system. Under this system, candidates are elected based on the popular vote, regardless of their position in the party's list. This change has shifted relations between political elites and the people or between political candidates and voters, both during and after elections. As a trend, candidates develop direct and close communication with the people, making promises to deliver concrete programmes in order to satisfy people's demands. And the public normally readjust their support for political leaders and government based on their capabilities in managing governance and delivering public goods.

Introduction

The aim of this chapter is to explain the absence of fundamental change in Indonesia's foreign policy after the New Order. Most discussion of reformasi in Indonesia is largely dominated by national or local politics, with some limited accounts on Indonesia's foreign policy and changing international profile. Most of these accounts have been widely influenced by theories of “democratic transition” that put emphasis on democratization of foreign policy-making processes. According to these theories, the democratization process has driven foreign policy change in Indonesia since the fall of Soeharto in 1998. Another strand of argument takes into account the role of “international pressure” relating to human rights and East Timorese independence as the causes of Indonesia's foreign policy change after reformasi. Taking a slightly different angle, Laksmana (2011a) argues that reformasi has created Indonesia's different international profile to cope with a changing geopolitical and geostrategic landscape.

In this chapter, I shall propose a rival argument, that Indonesia's foreign policy after reformasi does not fully embrace broader ideational, political, and institutional transformations. Whilst the existing arguments are correct in arguing that there are some institutional changes in Indonesia's foreign policy-making, which were caused by democratization, the reform is only limited and partial. Current analyses are flawed in three senses. First, they are too narrow in understanding Indonesia's foreign policy only in terms of institutional dynamics or policy-making process. Less has been said about ideational foundations of Indonesia's foreign policy, as well as its political and ideological underpinning in the changing context of Indonesian domestic politics. Second, given the neglect of the ideational foundation, they also fail to explain the broader paradigm shift in Indonesia's foreign policy, in which the bureaucratic institutions are taken for granted as the main actor in foreign policy. Third, this literature also neglects contestation between “social forces” in the process of foreign policy-making.

These weaknesses necessitate rethinking Indonesia's foreign policy after reformasi. In contrast to the democratic transition literature, I argue that Indonesia's foreign policy has undergone only “limited reform”. Three important factors persist in post-New Order foreign policy: (1) the “dual” capitalist-developmental and security-oriented doctrine; (2) bureaucratic elitism in decision-making; and (3) the preserved legacy of Cold War alignment in international politics, particularly at the regional level.

MYANMAR's GARMENT SECTOR AND THE EU's THREAT TO SUSPEND GSP PREFERENCES

In 2013 Myanmar was reinstated into the EU Single Market's “Generalized Scheme of Preferences” (GSP), under which goods from the country — and forty-six other least developed countries — may enter the EU duty- and quota-free, in conformity with the “Everything But Arms” (EBA) trade scheme. This followed the positive progress that Myanmar had recently made in transitioning away from a military-led government, and served as “recognition of [Myanmar's] efforts to launch ambitious political, social and labour reforms”. However, in October 2018, following a fact-finding mission to Myanmar, the EU cautioned that Myanmar's GSP privileges might be suspended because of “deeply worrying developments highlighted in various United Nations reports, in particular as regards human rights violations in Rakhine, Kachin and Shan States and concerns around labour rights”.

In 2017, Myanmar exported goods to the EU collectively valued at €1.55 billion, of which the largest proportion by far, 72 per cent, was ready-made garments. Not coincidentally, one of the few manufacturing sectors to display significant growth in Myanmar over the last five years has been the garment sector. Some of that growth has been domestically generated, but a significant proportion stems from foreign investment in the sector, bringing in not just capital, but also non-financial inputs, such as global industry knowledge and expertise, and the all-important networks and relationships with international buyers.

Thus, the dynamics that lie behind Myanmar's recent garment sector growth is multifaceted, and comprises the following elements: