On October 20, Prabowo Subianto took the reins of the world’s third-largest democracy following a resounding victory in February’s presidential election. His personal links to former dictator Suharto, and his role in the abduction of political activists, once made him a symbol of a violent past that democracy was supposed to leave behind. Instead, Prabowo became a prominent figure in Indonesia’s political landscape after the democratic transition in 1998.
Prabowo came close to winning the presidency in 2014 and 2019. Both times, he lost to Joko Widodo (Jokowi), who at the time was widely credited with saving Indonesia from the specter of a Prabowo presidency. Far from being the democratic savior, Jokowi proved to be a saboteur.
In classic populist fashion, Jokowi used his immense popularity to dismantle checks on executive power to implement his developmentalist vision. To secure his family’s political fortune, Jokowi paired his son as Prabowo’s vice-presidential candidate in the 2024 race, and used the full weight of his office to engineer victory for a man he had originally been elected to defeat.
This brazen use of state power by a sitting president to undermine fair electoral competition for personal gain has left one of the world’s most important Third Wave democracies teetering on the edge of competitive authoritarianism—that is, a system where democratic institutions remain intact but are vulnerable to systematic incumbent abuse.
What will Prabowo do with the battered institutions he inherits? His views on the vagaries of elections and representative government are well known. Since his election, Prabowo has taken steps to minimize political opposition and accommodate the interests of his unruly coalition. How democracy fares under the new president depends on whether the demands of managing Indonesia's fractious elites will turn Prabowo into a tactical political umpire or prompt him to tighten his personal grip on power.
A Decade of Dismantling Democracy
For Jokowi, subverting democracy was, at first, a survival mechanism. While his outsider status helped him to victory in 2014, it also hindered his ability to govern. In his first term, he faced hostility in parliament from opposition groups and even his own party, the Democratic Party of Struggle (PDI-P). Conservative Islamist groups also threatened to destabilize his rule by mobilizing a series of massive street protests.
Jokowi assembled a coterie of Suharto-era politicians who helped him bring the county’s political, social, and religious elite to heel through a mix of threats and incentives. Patronage has long been the glue of coalitional politics in democratic Indonesia; but Jokowi’s use of coercion to manage opponents has no parallel in the post-Suharto period.
At the beginning of his second term in 2019, a more confident Jokowi made it clear that he was ready to use all the tools at his disposal to stimulate fast economic growth through large-scale infrastructure and deep deregulation. Notable casualties of this campaign include the defanging of the highly popular Anti-Corruption Commission that Jokowi had come to see as an obstacle to investment, and simultaneously as a useful tool for disciplining the unruly political elite. Violent repression of Islamist groups also gained steam with unlawful killings of their members, and disbandment on contrived terrorism charges. Finally, he steamrolled the passage of a far-reaching law [AB1] to reduce labor protections, dismantle environmental safeguards, ease restrictions on foreign investment, and expedite land acquisition by the government.
Jokowi’s deep well of popularity was critical in enabling the implementation of these contentious measures. By keeping inflation low and expanding social welfare programs during the COVID-19 pandemic, he maintained high approval ratings. These measures arguably made ordinary Indonesians see themselves as stakeholders in his presidency and more willing to excuse political overreach in exchange for economic stability.
Jokowi drew on this tremendous mandate to systematically remove constraints on power. A strategic alliance with Prabowo, whom he appointed as his defense minister, brought Prabowo’s Gerindra party into Jokowi’s coalition, giving him near-total control of parliament, and undermining horizontal accountability. The appointment of loyalists to key law-enforcement posts turned the security apparatus into a tool for quelling dissent in civil society, weakening mechanisms of vertical accountability.
Breaching Electoral Red Lines
Despite these setbacks over the course of the past decade, elections in Indonesia were deemed largely free, fair, and competitive, distinguishing the country’s political system from the hybrid regimes and authoritarian states that have been on the rise globally. This changed when Jokowi began bending institutions and breaking electoral norms for his personal gain.
Angling for a way to stay in office, Jokowi first sought to change the constitution to seek a third presidential term. He also toyed with the idea of delaying the 2024 presidential election. Both proposals failed to gain traction with the public and were ultimately blocked by his own party, PDI-P. But, determined to cling to power, Jokowi declared his intention to meddle in the election to influence the choice of his successor in the 2024 race.
Prabowo presented a mutually beneficial solution by proposing Jokowi’s son, Gibran Rakabuming Raka, as his running mate. Jokowi’s endorsement would enhance Prabowo’s electability and having a son in the vice-president’s post would allow Jokowi to retain influence after exiting office. Provincial and municipal governments across Indonesia are littered with dynastic figures. But this attempt at establishing a presidential dynasty led to an escalating pattern of electoral intervention that is unprecedented in democratic Indonesia.
Jokowi's personal connections in the judiciary helped secure a nomination for Gibran, who was too young to legally run. The Constitutional Court, headed by Jokowi’s brother-in-law, created a last-minute legal loophole that cleared the way for the thirty-six-year-old to join Prabowo’s ticket. A definitive signal of endorsement from Jokowi welded Prabowo’s base of committed voters with Jokowi supporters. This gave Prabowo a double-digit lead in the three-way race, making him highly likely to win the election in a second round. But the stakes were too high for Jokowi to leave anything to chance.
The outgoing president marshalled all state resources at his disposal to push Prabowo and Gibran over the 50 percent mark that would prevent a runoff. He poured welfare funds into vote-rich areas to garner support for the pair. More alarmingly, he used control over coercive institutions, in particular, the police and the Anti-Corruption Commission, to intimidate local officials, who drummed up the necessary votes to deliver a landslide victory.
While the voting process and ballot counting remained largely free of intervention, this brazen meddling in the preelection process by an incumbent president, through a mix of cash and coercion, blurred the line between a democratic and undemocratic election.
Efforts to undermine electoral competitiveness continued even after the presidential election. This included intimidation of senior PDI-P leaders, who were openly critical of the electoral process and demanded an investigation of their presidential candidate’s stunning defeat in the party’s traditional strongholds. Jokowi then turned his attention to the 2024 regional elections taking place across the country in November. Regional politics are a wellspring of national leaders, who can prove their governance credentials to win widespread popularity, as Jokowi once did. He failed to secure a nomination for his second son in a key race but succeeded in derailing the campaign of a longtime rival, Anies Baswedan.
After losing the 2024 presidential election, Anies then sought reelection in Jakarta’s gubernatorial race. He was widely predicted to win given his immense popularity during his first term. Under normal circumstances, parties would flock to nominate such a candidate, and initially three major parties announced their intention to back him. But intimidation and co-optation of political party chiefs by the presidential palace peeled away support and left Anies failed to secure a nomination to enter the race. This intervention to block a highly popular incumbent from contesting an election constituted a severe attack on electoral competitiveness in democratic Indonesia.
Prabowo in Power
Prabowo inherits a democracy that is far weaker than the one he sought to rule ten years ago. What might he do with the institutions that are now at his disposal?
Defying his combative reputation, Prabowo cut a calmer and more composed figure while in his ministerial post, signalling that he could be a capable statesman. This softer image contributed to his presidential win. He also showed a pragmatic side by balancing Jokowi's interests with his own to ensure a smooth transition of power.
But electoral success has not changed Prabowo’s misgivings about representative government. Even after his presidential win, he admitted that he finds the democratic process tiring, messy, and costly. He has been explicit about his dislike for political opposition, describing it as a feature of Western democracies that is at odds with Indonesians’ penchant for “collaboration,” despite the fact that a vast majority of Indonesians think opposition is critical for good governance. The message was delivered once again in his inaugural presidential speech, when he said that he was in favor of democracy but insisted that it must remain “polite.”
Prabowo’s track record reflects these views. Back in 2014, Prabowo led the opposition coalition that passed legislation to roll back direct elections for regional leaders—but it was overruled by outgoing president Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono, who was concerned about his democratic legacy. After joining Jokowi’s coalition in 2019, Prabowo’s Gerindra party played a critical role in crafting a regressive legislative agenda, including the new criminal code that contains prison sentences for insulting the president.
The composition of Prabowo’s new cabinet reflects his desire to seek a democracy with minimal opposition. He has incorporated eight out of nine parliamentary parties into his coalition and expanded the number of government ministries and agencies from thirty-four to fifty-three, offering most parties a piece of the pie. Former police and military personnel who contributed to his win have been similarly rewarded with prominent cabinet positions.
An oversized cabinet presents obvious risks for the coherence and efficiency of policymaking. Managing competing demands from a fractious crew will also be a key challenge. Only one party, PDI-P, remains outside his coalition. But Prabowo is keen to draw it in and eliminate all opposition in parliament.
Prabowo’s cabinet appointments also signal his initial priorities. The reappointment of seventeen Jokowi-era officials, including the police and attorney general’s office, suggests that Prabowo wishes to honor promises made to the outgoing president. But it is also possible that Prabowo seeks to peel allies away from his meddling predecessor by becoming their patron, at least for now.
Retaining Finance Minister Sri Mulyani, despite clashing with her during his time as defense minister, is most certainly meant to calm the fears of international investors. This is crucial for Prabowo’s ambitious governance agenda, which includes an eight percent growth rate, self-sufficiency in food and biofuel, as well as a national free lunch program for schoolchildren.
The appointment of his former personal secretary, Sugiono, to the highly prestigious post of a foreign minister, usually reserved for professional diplomats, signals Prabowo’s intention to play a direct role in managing Indonesia’s international engagements.
The curious reappointment of Tito Karnavian as minister of home affairs indicates that plans for cutting back direct regional elections may be revived in some form. Tito has repeatedly campaigned for ending direct election of mayors and governors in less developed parts of Indonesia, questioning the democratic maturity of voters there. In the past, Prabowo has expressed his desire to revert to Indonesia’s original constitution, which would end direct presidential elections. His recent victory at the polls may have changed his mind, but his interest may renew if his reelection chances in 2029 look dim.
Sources of Regression and Resilience
As did Jokowi, Prabowo too will face constraints on how far he can go in bending the country’s institutions to his will. First, while Indonesia’s courts are much weaker today than they were ten years ago, maverick judges can still make democratic rulings. Just months ago, the very same court that engineered a decision to suit Jokowi’s dynastic plans suddenly ruled against the president and denied Jokowi’s second and even younger son the opportunity to run in regional elections.
Civil society pressure is also a critical check on egregious abuse of power. The Jokowi era witnessed the return of mass protests, similar in scale to those that took place at the end of the 1990s, which pushed Suharto from power. Most demonstrations during Jokowi’s tenure were quickly repressed; yet a “culture” of oppositional politics within civil society and on university campuses remains. Prabowo’s authoritarian reputation may strengthen these movements. But his concern for maintaining his international image, along with his desire to expand Indonesia’s global profile, could make the incoming president more responsive to protestors.
Finally, as Jokowi learned, competing elite interests remain a bulwark against the personalization of power and the rise of would-be autocrats. Jokowi had hoped to do away with presidential term limits, in the style of Türkiye’s President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan or Russia’s President Vladimir Putin; but Jokowi was hamstrung by the nature of Indonesia’s multiparty democracy, where no single party dominates, and coalition-building is the name of the game.
While Indonesia’s fractious elites offer some protection against personalistic power grabs, other forms of democratic drift have had, and will continue to have, significant support from parties in parliament. Indonesia’s democracy was born amid a devastating economic crisis and widespread social unrest. With the survival of the country under threat, political elites at the time made deep democratic concessions. Ironically, the success of these measures and the two decades of stability that ensued have prompted these reluctant democrats to consider that perhaps they did not need to go so far. Several democratic reforms are on the chopping block in the new parliament, including a bill curtailing media freedoms, an expanded role of the military, increased police powers, and restructuring of the judiciary.
Prabowo’s record suggests that he, perhaps more than any other politician, subscribes to this view of reining in democracy back to acceptable limits. His ability to find common ground with elites in parliament may be good news for his government but bad news for the future of Indonesia's democracy.