When Purbaya Yudhi Sadewa replaced Sri Mulyani Indrawati as Finance Minister in September, few predicted he would so quickly dominate the political conversation. Within weeks, the once-reserved technocrat began delivering bold, almost combative public statements—taking on import mafias, regional officials, even Pertamina’s top brass. Suddenly, Purbaya was no longer a quiet economist; he was a political story.

When President Prabowo Subianto declared that Portuguese should be taught in schools, the announcement came draped in diplomatic symbolism. Delivered during the state visit of Brazilian President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva at the Merdeka Palace, it was a flourish designed to project Indonesia’s global ambition — a gesture of friendship toward Brazil and a subtle signal that Prabowo seeks to reorient Indonesia’s diplomacy toward the Global South.

Thousands upon thousands of people joked about getting ready for jail, following recent news that Golkar’s youth wings reported at least 30 social media accounts to the Police, accusing them of defamation. These accounts were deemed to have insulted Minister of Energy and Mineral Resources Bahlil Lahadalia, who is chairman of Golkar Party, by creating memes in a mocking way.

One year after President Prabowo Subianto took office, Indonesia finds itself walking a fine line between firmness and fear. What began as a promise of “strong leadership” has gradually evolved into a system of managed obedience — where dissent is criminalized, markets are monopolized, and the law has become a political tool rather than a moral compass.

Deputy TNI chief General Tandyo Budi Revita has increasingly shown us that he is the de facto military commander because of his more visibility than commander General Agus Subiyanto, known for close ties to the previous president Jokowi.

National Police Chief Listyo Sigit Prabowo, considered the strongest representative of previous president Jokowi, has been trying to do whatever it takes to survive under the new administration. 

It is no secret that Prabowo Subianto attaches great importance to national defense. Ever since his appointment as the Defense Minister in 2019, Indonesia has continued to purchase various types of defense equipment from other countries, with the latest one being the Chinese Chengdu J-10 fighter jet. Just like any other initiative that requires huge spending of the state budget, this recent purchase has also sparked a discourse among the public.

While the Indonesian House of Representatives is in recess, recent news about the increasing allowance provided to lawmakers during this time have triggered yet another public outrage. It appears to them that the government hasn’t learned anything from the week-long nationwide mass protests in August. Disappointing, but not at all surprising. The government as we know it has been facing transparency issues for a while now.

The government’s constant refrain of efficiency has become a defining slogan in bureaucratic reform. Over the past decade, ministries and local governments have been urged to slim down, digitalize processes, and reduce overlapping functions — all in the name of a leaner, more productive state apparatus. Yet, the newly proposed State Civil Apparatus Bill (RUU ASN) may turn this narrative on its head.

When Trans7 aired a segment that allegedly mocked Pesantren Lirboyo and its revered cleric, KH Anwar Manshur, it did more than offend one of Indonesia’s oldest Islamic boarding schools—it reignited a national debate about how the media perceives religion, authority, and the rural soul of the nation.