The leadership clash inside Nahdlatul Ulama (NU) is being sold to the public as a routine organizational dispute — a matter of ethics, ideology, and administrative discipline. That narrative is convenient. It hides the real story.

Two national surveys released within days of each other paint a picture of an Indonesia overflowing with optimism. According to Adidaya Institute, public trust in President Prabowo Subianto’s ability to bring change now sits above 90 percent—an extraordinary number in any democracy. The same survey shows that 75 percent of Indonesians believe Vice President Gibran Rakabuming Raka will successfully carry out his mandate, and more than 70 percent support the possibility of Prabowo serving two terms.

The House of Representatives (DPR) has once again come under fire for passing the criminal procedure code (KUHAP) bill despite strong opposition from the public. Civil society groups and student executive boards are reportedly planning to challenge the enactment of the new KUHAP at the Constitutional Court. In a similar vein, five students have filed a judicial review on MD3 Law, requesting for direct public involvement in the dismissal of DPR members.

Indonesia’s political landscape is being redrawn not through party competition or legislative debates, but through a strategic restructuring of its coercive institutions. Under President Prabowo Subianto, the balance of power between the Indonesian National Armed Forces (TNI) and the National Police (Polri) is shifting with a precision that cannot be dismissed as administrative coincidence. It reflects a deeper recalibration of political influence—one that weakens networks associated with former president Joko Widodo, strengthens Prabowo’s institutional base, and sets the stage for a new architecture of state power.

Purbaya Yudhi Sadewa, Finance Minister’s latest remark — claiming that journalists have gone too quiet, not fierce enough, and that this supposed passivity has contributed to the country’s economic stagnation — reveals more about the condition of the media ecosystem than about journalists themselves. It is an interesting provocation, delivered casually during a media-themed fun run, but it exposes a deeper anxiety: Why do Indonesia’s newsrooms feel quieter today? And is the silence a matter of individual courage, or something far more structural?

The Constitutional Court’s ruling in Decision No. 114/PUU-XXIII/2025 marks one of the most consequential legal corrections in Indonesia’s post-Reformasi governance architecture. By striking down the provision that allowed active police officers to occupy civilian positions through mere “assignment” from the National Police chief, the Court has shut a loophole that has quietly reshaped the country’s political and bureaucratic landscape for more than a decade.

Sanitation is not the only problem with the free nutritious meals (MBG) program. A few days ago, the National Nutrition Agency (BGN)’s social media account was flooded with comments from MBG staff who demanded their delayed salary payments. As it turned out, thousands of them have not been paid for months, while some others even worked as interns without a proper contract.

When a senior politician is reported to the police for recalling the crimes of a dictator, we should ask: what kind of democracy are we becoming?

Turning Soeharto into a National Hero would not merely decorate a grave; it would redefine the nation’s memory at a time when Indonesia is still struggling to honor the promises of Reformasi. The renewed push—surfacing again just as the Palace receives a slate of 49 honorees for Heroes’ Day—has exposed a widening rift between nostalgia-driven stability politics and rights-based accountability.

Mass food poisoning cases have become rampant in Indonesia, resulting from the poor governance over the MBG program. Thousands of victims were hospitalized to receive medical treatment and the incurred expenses were substantial. But who is responsible for all expenses in the event of an emergency? The central government through BGN, or the local government?