In recent years, especially 2025, youth-led protests erupted in many countries. Young people, often referred to as the “Gen Z”, joined hands to challenge corruption, economic inequality between political elites and citizens, and governance failures. Indonesia was no exception. With the help of social media as a unique tool for their activism, this generation has repeatedly managed to spark political debates. It might escalate into a full-fledged uprising if the ruling government keeps underestimating them in the coming year.

The renewed push by Gerindra to revive indirect local elections—allowing governors, mayors, and regents to be selected by local legislatures (DPRD) instead of citizens—has reignited an old debate that Indonesia thought it had settled a decade ago. The argument being sold to the public sounds pragmatic: elections are expensive, polarizing, and prone to money politics. But beneath the rhetoric of “efficiency” lies a more troubling political ambition—one that risks shrinking democratic space and returning power to the hands of party elites.

Nahdlatul Ulama (NU) has reconciled—at least formally. The leadership feud that threatened Indonesia’s largest Muslim organization has been folded neatly under the reassuring banner of islah. Statements of unity have been delivered. Photos of brotherhood have circulated. And the public has been told that NU is once again “solid.”

Indonesia’s late-December decision to reshuffle 187 senior officers within the Indonesian Armed Forces (TNI) is officially justified as part of routine regeneration and structural strengthening. On paper, it is a normal institutional exercise. But in a political context where the military’s role is increasingly scrutinized, such a massive rotation inevitably carries implications beyond internal management. This is not simply about who occupies which post; it is about the direction, priorities, and mindset of one of the country’s most powerful institutions.

The National Nutrition Agency (BGN) has once again emphasized that the MBG program is not mandatory during school holidays. Schools and students may choose to opt out of the program if they wish, while those who opt in will have to pick up the meals at school every three days. But here’s the thing: BGN’s claims didn’t correspond with the public’s self-reported MBG experiences as seen on social media.

TNI Chief of Staff Maruli Simanjuntak and Cabinet Secretary Teddy Indra Wijaya were condemned for their remarks on media coverage of the recent Sumatra disaster. They advised the media against reporting the government’s shortcomings in disaster relief, and to focus on boosting public morale with positive news. More than a simple advice, however, AJI Indonesia viewed it as an effort to curb the media’s role as a watchdog.

Nearly a month after floods and landslides hit three provinces in Sumatra, thousands of evacuees have yet to receive adequate assistance. 500 tonnes of humanitarian aid from our neighbor Malaysia stuck in Port Klang without approval, while 30 tonnes of rice were almost returned to the United Arab Emirates (UAE). It all boils down to the uncertainty in the Indonesian government’s bureaucracy, which effectively locks foreign assistance out of the country.

The Ministry of Social Affairs is currently preparing several programs for post-disaster rehabilitation and reconstruction in Sumatra. One of which is the plan to distribute Rp 10,000 in social assistance per person for three months. The question is: Will this initiative set a precedent for how the state handles disasters? What are the possible implications?

The Ministry of Culture’s launch of Sejarah Indonesia: Dinamika Kebangsaan dalam Arus Global should have been a proud intellectual moment. Ten volumes, dozens of contributors, and a sweeping ambition to narrate Indonesia’s long civilizational journey—on paper, it sounds like a serious investment in national memory. Instead, it has ignited unease, skepticism, and a familiar anxiety: when the state writes history, whose truth does it serve?

Papua’s special autonomy was conceived as a constitutional commitment, not as a discretionary budget item. Yet recent developments suggest that the policy has drifted far from its original intent. Instead of functioning as a stable fiscal framework, autonomy increasingly appears conditional—adjusted, reduced, and restored depending on political convenience and fiscal pressures in Jakarta.