Indonesia’s Military Law Changes: A Step Toward the Past?

Indonesia’s parliament took a bold step on Thursday, passing amendments to its military law that thrust the armed forces deeper into civilian life.

The unanimous vote, steered by Speaker Puan Maharani, has unleashed a storm of protests and revived fears of a return to the country’s authoritarian past. Under President Prabowo Subianto, a former general with ties to that era, these changes signal a pivotal moment for the world’s third-largest democracy. Here’s what’s happening—and why it matters.

Expanding the Military’s Reach

The revisions to the 2004 National Armed Forces Act are striking. Active military officers can now serve in 14 civilian institutions—up from 10—including powerful bodies like the Attorney General’s Office and the National Counterterrorism Agency. Retirement ages are also stretched: non-commissioned officers stay until 58, generals until 63, with extensions possible to 65. Defence Minister Sjafrie Sjamsoeddin framed it as a pragmatic update, arguing that “geopolitical shifts and military technology advancements” demand a force ready for modern threats like cyberattacks or insurgencies.

The government points to global precedents—nations like the United States allow military roles in civilian sectors—but Indonesia’s history casts a long shadow over the intent.

Echoes of Authoritarianism

That shadow belongs to Suharto’s “New Order” regime, which ruled from 1967 to 1998. Back then, the military’s “dual function” doctrine made it a pillar of governance, enabling repression and abuses that scarred the nation. After Suharto’s fall, reforms like the 2004 law aimed to cage that power, confining the military to defense and nurturing Indonesia’s democratic bloom. Thursday’s amendments threaten to unravel that progress.

President Prabowo, a special forces commander under Suharto and once his son-in-law, has stoked those fears. Implicated in past abuses—like the 1998 activist abductions, though never convicted—he’s already leaned on the military for civilian projects, such as his $33 billion free meals initiative. Critics see the law as a formal step toward militarization. “It’s a legislative crime,” said Andreas Harsono of Human Rights Watch, warning of eroded accountability.

Streets Erupt in Defiance

Jakarta’s response was immediate. Students and activists flooded the streets outside parliament, their chants drowned by tear gas as they clashed with police. “This betrays our democracy,” said Ani Lestari, 22, her voice cutting through the chaos. Protesters pledged to escalate, some floating a national strike. Though the law softened earlier drafts—requiring officers to retire before most civilian roles—it hasn’t quelled the outrage. “It’s a subtle power grab,” said analyst Yoes Kenawas.

A Democracy Tested

Indonesia’s post-1998 success hinged on keeping the military at bay. These amendments challenge that foundation, risking a slide toward the impunity of old. With Prabowo’s term running to 2029, and his nationalist base cheering, the law could be a first move in a broader shift. Yet the streets show a public unwilling to relent. As this battle unfolds, Indonesia’s democratic soul hangs in the balance, caught between modernization and the ghosts of its past.