Indonesia’s Technocratic Activism

During President Prabowo Subianto’s first year in office as a strongman leader, protests grew due to ongoing anti-democratic laws and policies. The government’s response also turned increasingly ugly, resulting in thousands of unlawful arrests and hundreds of detentions awaiting trial. The arrests continue to this day since the August 2025 protests that sparked riots. The protesters, many of whom mobilised spontaneously without leaders, were overwhelmed by repression and caught up in legal battles to free their friends. Many unknown protesters detained by the police likely lacked legal representation and faced threats and violence from investigators. This is one of the drawbacks of opposition movements without organisational structures.

Yet, this limitation has not yet led to any real collective initiative to create a more coherent social force linked to a political entity capable of competing within the formal political arena. Existing movement parties are struggling to expand their social base and establish themselves as viable tools for channelling discontent. The Labour Party, in particular, relies on patronage networks to survive, allowing conservative co-option and thereby constraining the space for progressive elements to exert influence. Conversely, the Indonesian Green Party (Partai Hijau Indonesia, PHI), still struggling to secure verification as an electoral contestant, remains overly dependent on segments of the educated middle class, a social stratum that is generally less organised and more inclined towards political disengagement.

Meanwhile, most civil society activists remain reluctant to form or join existing movement parties aimed at seizing control of the state, partly due to concerns about co-optation. The state and the formal political arena are often perceived as corrupt and morally compromised environments, which discourage direct engagement. Ironically, the government is still expected to act with good intentions and to be responsive to societal needs. When expectations are unmet, the problem is typically attributed to technocratic issues of mismanagement and incompetence rather than to the power structure. In fact, the state is likely to remain exclusionary when progressive forces fail to engage in a direct power struggle in the formal political arena.

Technocratic activism

A technocratic perspective, prevalent among civil society activists, contributes to maintaining an apolitical stance towards the state. This view renders political problems as matters of mismanagement, implying that meaningful change can be achieved simply by replacing incompetent officials or by redesigning institutions and regulations. The technocratic view is also problematic, as it overemphasises institutional capacity—or the lack thereof—suggesting the government has the goodwill to solve the problem and that unresolved issues are due to incompetence.

Prabowo’s flagship economic programmes that misallocate state funds and his chaotic disaster management responding to the devastating floods on Sumatra Island, for instance, are framed merely as issues of government incompetence or the state’s failure to handle crises, rather than as political matters pertaining to the power structure.

In fact, the messy handling of crises continues to happen repeatedly. During the COVID-19 pandemic, for example, the government initially ignored scientific advice and refused to acknowledge the pandemic as a serious threat. This was not simply due to a lack of competence but to the government’s lack of interest in addressing it, as the resulting chaos often created opportunities for the accumulation of capital and power.

Similarly, social programmes like free nutritious lunches (MBG) are driven largely not by genuine concern for addressing malnutrition or improving welfare. Instead, they often serve as political tools to build patronage networks, distributing rents to business and political allies to secure loyalty. The messy handling of devastating floods on Sumatra Island also reflects pragmatic calculations by the ruling elites aiming at maximising returns from disasters, especially infrastructure development during reconstruction, rather than incompetence.

The continued enactment of contentious laws that contradict civil liberties and the excessive police crackdowns are also not simply problems of lawmakers’ incompetence or law enforcers’ lack of a rights perspective. Rather, they arise from a system in which access to public institutions serves primarily as a tool for private accumulation of power and wealth.

Hence, the multitude of crises exacerbated by Prabowo’s administration stems from deeper structural problems intrinsic to Indonesia’s exclusionary state, rather than merely technocratic failures. 'Exclusionary' means that state institutions and actions largely marginalise the aspirations and interests of broader society, particularly the lower classes, while privileging those of select political-economic elites. This exclusionary nature is an outcome of entrenched predatory interests that, despite democratisation, remain unchallenged.

Moving beyond technocratism?

While technocratism is not only insufficient but also allows the exclusionary state to remain unchallenged, meaningful change necessitates that civil society organise itself into a coherent political force capable of reshaping power structures through direct engagement in the formal political arena. However, this endeavour is inherently challenging, given multiple constraints, including restrictive electoral regulations that limit the participation of new political parties and the broadly apolitical stances that inhibit political engagement and collective mobilisation.

To participate in the election, a new political party must first undergo administrative and physical verification. The 2017 election law stipulates that a political party must establish representative offices across various levels: 100% at the provincial level, 75% at the regency or city level, and 50% at the district level. There are also barriers posed by the 4% parliamentary threshold and the 20% presidential threshold. Although the 2025 Constitutional Court ruling has removed the presidential threshold, only verified parties are eligible to nominate candidates. To meet these requirements, a new political party needs to rent or acquire numerous offices and recruit hundreds of thousands of verified members, which would entail an investment of billions of rupiahs.

These electoral regulations have become increasingly restrictive since the first democratic elections in 1999, allowing powerful politico-business elites to maintain their dominance. The opportunity to seek legal challenges through judicial review has also diminished, as most legal avenues are now under the control of ruling predatory elites, especially since the 2020 Constitutional Court law.

This inherent structural constraint helps explain why many civil society activists are reluctant to build an alternative political vehicle or to engage in organised, direct intervention in the state, preferring instead to advocate for technocratic reforms. While numerous activists have entered the formal political arena to promote change from within, they have typically done so individually and sporadically rather than under a collective mandate from movement organisations. As a result, civil society cannot hold them accountable, allowing these activists to prioritise their personal upward mobility over their initial ideals and links to the movements.

Some progressive elements of civil society have attempted to build movement-based political parties aimed at transcending technocratic activism, but most have failed, while others, such as the PHI, are still struggling to expand their organisations and social bases. Meanwhile, the Labour Party, co-founded by some left-wing trade unions, is trapped in conservative co-option due to being dominated by a faction that sees aligning with the ruling predatory elites as a survival strategy. These challenges have prevented them from being regarded as an effective vehicle for mediating the aspirations of discontented citizens.

No way out?

While most civil society activists, reluctant to engage in direct political intervention, tend to advocate a technocratic approach, citizens who feel alienated from formal political representatives often resort to populist figures with charismatic appeal or to spontaneous street protests.

Yet, relying on individual populist leaders often leads to disappointment. Former President Jokowi Widodo, for instance, was initially seen as a democratic saviour from Prabowo’s authoritarian threat but ultimately defied those expectations. Without a strong political party linked to a coherent progressive social force, such leaders are prone to becoming entangled in the corrupt system they are expected to reform.

Meanwhile, street protests alone, especially when spontaneous and leaderless, have apparent limitations. While some spontaneous protests have successfully ousted corrupt executive leaders, as observed in Nepal and Bangladesh in 2025 and in Indonesia in 1998, the absence of leadership in the movement may only create a power vacuum, which is likely to be filled by the most organised political forces, including the military.

Given the limited options, the most viable way to transform power structures is to take control of state power—either through organised revolutionary action or through elections. This can be done by building new movement-based political parties or by strengthening existing ones. Where strong democratic mechanisms and robust internal accountability are established, the risks of co-option and corrupt leadership can be substantially mitigated. Withdrawing from the formal political arena and maintaining an anti-political stance only leaves the exclusionary nature of the state unchallenged.