Ever since the fall of Suharto' authoritarian New Order regime in 1998, analysts have struggled to understand the dynamics of the system that has taken its place. Unlike the New Order, whose centralised and static political system allowed scholars to make durable generalisations about Indonesian politics, the post-Suharto state has defied attempts to describe it in uniform and all encompassing terms. The failure to define clearly what has emerged since 1998 is reflected in the absence of a widely accepted name for the new polity. While all other political regimes in Indonesia are known by standard labels—’parliamentary democracy’ for the period between 1950 and 1957, ‘Guided Democracy’ for Sukarno' rule from 1959 to 1965 and the ‘New Order’ for Suharto' regime scholars have yet to reach consensus on a term to describe the post-authoritarian regime. While they agree that the post-1998 political system has offered more freedom than previous regimes, there is disagreement about almost everything else. Even when authors describe Indonesia as a democracy, they usually qualify the noun with a variety of adjectives, such as ‘collusive’ or ‘delegative’ (Slater 2004), ‘consolidated’ but ‘patrimonial’ (Webber 2006), ‘low quality’ (Mietzner 2009a) or ‘secular’ (Mujani and Liddle 2009).

Yet amidst the diversity of views, it is possible to identify three broad schools of thought on post-New Order Indonesia. First, a significant number of scholars have maintained that despite important institutional reforms, democratic change has been superficial, with core structures of power remaining unchanged. In this perspective, the oligarchic elites who controlled the New Order have survived the 1998 regime change and continue to use the state for rent-seeking purposes (Robison and Hadiz 2004; Boudreau 2009). Second, there are observers who believe that Indonesia has done exceptionally well in consolidating its democracy, especially from a comparative viewpoint (MacIntyre and Ramage 2008). Against the backdrop of the almost apocalyptic predictions for Indonesia in 1998, which saw the country following in the footsteps of the Soviet Union and Yugoslavia, these analysts point out that leading international thinktanks now acknowledge Indonesia as a functioning electoral democracy (Freedom House 2009). Moreover, this change occurred against a trend of democratic recession in the world more generally and Southeast Asia in particular.

Indonesia' process of democratisation has been most problematic in those provinces where large parts of the population wanted to be independent of Indonesia. In East Timor, Papua and Aceh, local people took advantage of the democratic space that opened up after the end of the Suharto regime to press their demands for independence, leading in each province to renewed political tensions, violent conflict and government repression. The crises that resulted were resolved by independence for East Timor and a peace deal for Aceh. But no such resolution has taken place in Papua.

Compared with other parts of Indonesia, Papua in some ways is caught in a democratic time warp. Certainly Indonesian security forces exercise a degree of control there that they no longer exercise elsewhere. Human rights abuses remain endemic in Papua and popular aspirations for independence are suppressed. But in other ways, democratisation has proceeded in Papua much as it has in other parts of Indonesia. Indeed, the results of the 2009 parliamentary and presidential elections have provided a reassuring picture of normalcy. The largest political parties—Golkar, the Democratic Party (Partai Demokrat, PD) and the Indonesian Democratic Party of Struggle (Partai Demokrasi Indonesia Perjuangan, PDIP)—are all committed to upholding the national integrity of the Indonesian state. Yet all did well in Papua in the national elections, and each is represented in Papuan legislatures at every level of government. The pattern of voting in Papua differed somewhat from that for Indonesia as a whole, but not as sharply as did South Sulawesi, Bali or Aceh. In the presidential election, Papuans supported the re-election of the nationally popular incumbent, Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono. Can these two different pictures of Papua be reconciled? In this chapter I attempt to do so by arguing that there are two distinct realms of politics in Papua. The realm of Papuan nationalist politics is partly clandestine, partly public and tightly controlled. The realm of electoral politics, on the other hand, is open and highly competitive. The former is reminiscent of the repression of the New Order regime rather than the ideals of Indonesia' reform era. The latter has many of the characteristics of electoral competition that have developed throughout Indonesia since the resignation of Suharto.

Indonesia' April 2009 legislative elections had special significance for the province of Aceh, where the Helsinki Memorandum of Understanding (MOU) of 2005 had marked an end to the 30-year separatist conflict between the Free Aceh Movement (Gerakan Aceh Merdeka, GAM) and the Indonesian government. The 2009 elections were an important part of the peace process, as former GAM members were contesting power (in the form of provincial and district-level legislative seats) through democratic means. The MOU enabled the formation of local parties, and the Aceh Party (Partai Aceh, PA), the party formed to represent former GAM members, achieved a strong win in both the provincial and district-level elections.

The first goal of this chapter is to examine how PA achieved its impressive win, and the implications of its victory for peace in Aceh. Election implementation suffered from many problems and tensions but I argue that PA' win was legitimate and bodes well for continued peace. In its campaign efforts, PA benefited from the far-reaching and well-organised structure left behind by GAM. In addition, it managed to attract the votes of many people who had not previously supported GAM, primarily those who hoped that a win for PA would help sustain the peace in Aceh.

A second goal of the chapter is to treat the Aceh elections as a prism through which to view wider political processes in Indonesia. The participation of local parties and former rebels in the elections marked Aceh as different to the rest of Indonesia. However, in terms of the political dynamics that were influential in the province during the elections, Aceh had much in common with the rest of the country. One common phenomenon in Indonesian politics is a ‘service-based’ candidate–voter relationship whereby votes are cast as a reward for services rendered by a party or candidate. There is considerable evidence that many candidates and voters view voting in this way: as a reward, or payment, for services rendered, in an almost business-like transaction. Service-based voting is typical of a patronage-based democracy such as Indonesia', but it occurs in various forms. The services rendered may be short term or longer term, and may be provided either by individual candidates or by political parties.

The collapse of an authoritarian regime opens wide the prospect of political reform. As Grindle and Thomas point out, “many reforms emerge and are considered in which policy elites believe that a crisis exists and that they must ‘do something’ about the situation or they will face grave consequences”. But “doing something” does not guarantee that political reforms will be implemented. A crisis can force elites to take action but it doesn't determine the exact nature of that action. Even when the fall of an authoritarian regime leads to a “democratic transition”, new or revived democratic institutions are not necessarily able to implement effective reforms. This study has focused on six institutional areas where reform has been attempted with varying degrees of success or failure. The starting point for Indonesia's crisis was the Asian Monetary Crisis that originated in Thailand in mid-1997 and quickly spread to several other Asian countries. Although five countries suffered severely, none was hurt as badly as Indonesia. Several Asian heads of government lost office in the wake of the crisis, but it was only in Indonesia that the political system itself was fundamentally changed. Many civil society organizations and even members of the Soeharto regime had been pressing for gradual political change before the upheaval in May 1998 but it was only after the lifting of New Order political controls following the demise of the regime that far-reaching political reform suddenly appeared possible.

Circumstances, however, were not especially propitious. The massive economic collapse that precipitated the fall of Soeharto's authoritarian regime led to a breakdown in order through much of the country. Huge anti-government protests continued in Jakarta and many regional capitals, rioting and ethnic violence became common, and the economic decline continued as investors and businesspeople withdrew capital from Indonesia. But there was no cohesive alternative elite ready to take over power. Although the fallen president and his hard-core supporters were removed, the initial post-authoritarian government was headed by Soeharto's hand-picked vice president and consisted largely of Golkar hold-overs from the previous cabinet while the bureaucracy and the military remained intact.

The fall of an authoritarian regime provides the opportunity for democratic reformers to establish democratic institutions. Democratization usually requires the drastic amendment of the old constitution or the drafting of a completely new one while existing electoral laws need to be overhauled. Post-authoritarian regimes, however, are not always dominated by democratic reformers. The implementation of political reforms is not necessarily smooth and must often be adjusted to suit interests surviving from the authoritarian regime and new political forces emerging in the wake of its collapse. In Indonesia's case, as described in Chapter 2, the new Habibie government consisted mainly of carry-overs from the Soeharto regime, while the legislature produced by the “managed” 1997 general election continued to be dominated by Soeharto's Golkar party and its military allies. The path to democratic reform, therefore, was by no means clear, yet it was this government and legislature that initiated the process of democratic transformation leading to Indonesia's first free elections in more than four decades. The 1999 elections, however, did not produce strong and cohesive government but institutions fragmented between competing parties and factions. Reflecting a common view, the Australian legal scholar, Tim Lindsey, noted that “Few believed that the current MPR, an institution with a justified reputation for party political in-fighting and horse trading, could produce the majority necessary to resolve debates that have divided Indonesia since independence in 1945.”

These institutions, nevertheless, embarked on further reform which resulted in a fundamental revision of the constitution and further development of the electoral laws. The British political scientist, Andrew Ellis, concluded that “the MPR made decisions of substance, the most important of which being the move to a separation of powers principle and a conventional presidential system”. This chapter seeks to explain how substantial reforms were adopted by unpromising institutions. By 2004, when the second post-authoritarian elections were held, most of the arguments between rival parties and factions over the provisions of the constitution and the electoral laws had given way to a consensus that was broadly acceptable to most major groups and conformed to recognized democratic standards. This did not mean, however, that all challenges had been overcome, but the remaining problems lay less in the institutional framework than in the performance of many of the politicians democratically elected to the reformed institutions.

In 2009, Indonesia held its third set of nationwide democratic elections since the end of Suharto' authoritarian New Order regime in 1998. Surprising many observers, the elections were marred by far worse administrative and technical defects than any previous post-Suharto election, pointing to significant underlying problems in Indonesian democracy. At the same time, the elections were generally agreed to be free and fair, they produced renewed democratic legitimacy for government institutions, and they confirmed or modified, rather than overturned, most of the broad patterns of political alignment established over the preceding decade. Overall, the elections thus point to a high degree of stability and resilience in Indonesia' new democracy, despite the problems.

The elections were held in two rounds. On 9 April 2009 legislative elections determined the membership of national and regional parliaments. The results confirmed a slow but steady change in Indonesia' electoral politics, with some parties gaining significantly in support and others declining, but with the overall pattern of a fragmented multi-party system remaining intact. On 8 July 2009, the first round of direct presidential elections was held, the second such elections since Suharto' fall in 1998. A second-round presidential election, planned for September, proved unnecessary because of a landslide victory by President Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono in the first round, in which he won 60.8 per cent of the vote.

The magnitude of this victory points to relatively high popular satisfaction with government, more than 10 years into Indonesia' democratic transition. Yet the achievements of these elections in consolidating Indonesian democracy were significantly undermined by serious technical flaws that marked a worrying decline in the professionalism of Indonesia' electoral management, and which may be viewed as emblematic of wider problems of governance that still bedevil Indonesian democracy.

This chapter examines key developments related to the election cycle of 2009 and their implications for Indonesian democracy. It is divided into five sections. The first discusses the legislative elections, which continued a slow but important change in Indonesia' electoral politics. The second section analyses the July presidential election, which favoured the candidate best able to navigate a political battleground characterised by the overriding importance of personality and image. The third looks at the influence of political Islam, whose relatively poor performance in 2009 confirms Islam' struggle to remain relevant in a formal political life dominated by non-theocratic forces.

Three decades of authoritarian rule in Indonesia came to a sudden halt in 1998. The collapse of the Soeharto regime was accompanied by massive economic decline, widespread rioting, communal conflict, and fears that the nation was approaching the brink of disintegration. Although the fall of Soeharto opened the way towards democratization, conditions were by no means propitious for political reform. This book asks how political reform could proceed despite such unpromising circumstances. It examines electoral and constitutional reform, the decentralization of a highly centralized regime, the gradual but incomplete withdrawal of the military from its deep political involvement, the launching of an anti-corruption campaign despite entrenched corruption in the courts, and the achievement of peace in two provinces that had been devastated by communal violence and regional rebellion.

The focus of this book is on political reforms during the decade after Soeharto's fall. These reforms were initially driven by the need to respond to the national crisis that brought down the New Order regime but were also shaped by specific circumstances and constellations of political forces in the six fields discussed in this book. The book tries to present the “big picture” of political reform but its main contribution most probably lies in the detailed tracing of reform in each of the six policy areas. Although reforms took place more or less simultaneously in an evolving national context, the pace and nature of specific reforms varied considerably. Political reform was not inevitable but depended on a continuing struggle between those who saw benefit in further reform and those who felt disadvantaged by it. Step-by-step political reform during the last decade has made significant advances but, as this book shows, is by no means complete and, in some areas, could still be vulnerable to reversal. It should also be noted that a study of contemporary political reform is inevitably no more than a “work in progress”. Even as this manuscript went to press, new developments raised new questions but hopefully will not fatally undermine my main arguments. I hope that readers will find the final product both informative and interesting.

The parliament (Dewan Perwakilan Rakyat, DPR) has been at the centre of the political transformation of Indonesia since 1998. The rise in the importance of the parliament is one of the two biggest shifts in institutional power experienced in Indonesia since the fall of Suharto; the other is the empowerment of regional government. More than any other state institution, the parliament has been the major site of competition between the residual forces of the New Order elite (Robison and Hadiz 2004), the previously excluded groups who want a seat at the high table and those who simply want to influence the decisions that affect their lives. This dynamic power constellation has been the result of fundamental changes instituted since 1998, most notably the introduction of genuinely democratic elections. These highly competitive ballots have shifted the rules of the game and vastly increased the range of voices heard in the parliament. Whereas in Suharto' DPR one could hear only an occasional faint echo of real disputes within the elite (Datta 2002), the post-1998 institution is a lively chamber full of the clamorous noise of debate. In this sense, the new parliament has become the kind of representative legislature that is considered ‘normal’ in a capitalist democracy.

This chapter discusses the role of Indonesia' parliament in the post- Suharto polity in four steps. The first section argues that democratic elections and constitutional reform have greatly enhanced the role of the parliament, but that its power is limited by the fact that it must share the power to make laws with the executive arm of government. Consequently, concerns about an excessive shift of authority to the parliament are not justified.

In the second section, I contend that certain features of the parliamentary decision-making process inherently favour exclusive elite politics over popular and inclusive deliberations, whether wittingly or unwittingly. Parliaments around the world are, of course, weighted towards the interests of the powerful, but the Indonesian parliament' specific institutional set-up and political culture seem to be particularly supportive of cabalistic or oligarchic control. Of special concern in this regard is the compartmentalisation of decision making within the committee structure and the avoidance of open votes. These practices limit political competition and facilitate a division of political spoils among an elite group of insiders.

The study of voting behaviour in democratic Indonesia has become one of the most contested areas in the scholarly debate on the shape and character of the post-Suharto polity. In particular, analysts of Indonesian politics have focused on two main questions. First, why have Indonesian citizens voted as they have for parties and presidential/vice-presidential candidates in the post-authoritarian national elections that have now been held three times since the 1998 democratic transition? And second, what are the implications of this behaviour for the quality of current and future Indonesian democratic life?

In a series of studies based on our own national political opinion surveys since Suharto' fall, we have tried to find comprehensive answers to these questions. In our first major discussion of the subject, we argued that leadership or candidate appeal and self-identification with a political party (‘party ID’ in the voting behaviour literature) were the most important factors shaping individual partisan and candidate choices in the 1999 and 2004 elections. With this conclusion, we rejected an alternative interpretation that had been held by most scholars since the earliest democratic elections in 1955. According to these scholars, sociological or cultural factors—most notably religious affinities, but also region, ethnicity and social class—were the principal determinant of Indonesian voting behaviour.

In our 2009 surveys, we found strong continuities but also striking shifts in the factors shaping voter choice. These new findings are based on two national opinion polls that we conducted just after the parliamentary and presidential elections in April and July. Party leader or candidate appeal remains the most important factor, but party and presidential/ vice-presidential media campaigns, especially on television, have become powerful forces in their own right. At the same time, party ID has weakened, though it remains influential in explaining individual votes for some parties and candidates. However, the most remarkable finding of our new research is the prominence of voter perceptions of the national economic condition, a factor that was not significant in 1999 and 2004. Also newly significant is voter evaluation of the economic and other policies of incumbent president Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono, factors introduced into our 2009 surveys for the first time. As in 1999 and 2004, we found little evidence that voters were influenced by religious, ethnic, regional or social class identities and affiliations.

Preman, a colloquial term for a thug or gangster, is synonymous in the minds of many Indonesians with some of the worst aspects of the country' political culture: intimidation, coercion, extortion and violence. This equation of preman with political thuggery developed during the New Order period (1966–98), during which gangs, youths and local thugs were regularly subcontracted and mobilised to carry out violence on behalf of the interests of the state and political elites. This was done in return for various concessions, such as legal immunity for their underworld activities and in some cases entry into and advancement through the government and administrative hierarchy. The word preman itself finds its roots in this confluence of state power and criminality. But to what extent have the preman become political and politicised subjects themselves in the new democratic Indonesia and sought to pursue their own social, economic and political interests rather than those of their patrons or clients?

The preman are commonly defined by their use of violence and criminality, and come from a social and economic underclass of marginalised youth, slum dwellers and urban poor, what Davis (2004) has described as the growing informal proletariat. Since the demise of the New Order, a plethora of social organisations (organisasi masyarakat, or ormas) have emerged that draw much of their membership from this preman underclass, claiming to represent their interests and, by implication, those of other marginalised and ‘wounded’ urban communities. As during the New Order, these groups are often involved in racketeering and violent entrepreneurship, both as a service to supply a ready market for forms of intimidation and in the form of a coercive relationship imposed on their immediate communities. However, at the same time such preman groups are increasingly articulating their social and political demands, engaging in grassroots activism and self-organisation, and pursuing strategies for engagement with the formal political process. This chapter examines the tension between criminality and socio-political engagement by looking at the ways in which some preman groups have organised themselves politically and sought to benefit from the electoral process. It also reflects on what this tells us about the nature and dynamics of Indonesian democracy.