Gerakan Rakyat, a mass organization promoting Anies Baswedan for the presidency, has officially declared its transformation into a political party beginning this year. Given the current electoral laws and Indonesia’s fluid political landscape, how might this new party perform in the 2029 elections?

Indonesia might soon amend its Constitution to change its political system from republic to a kingdom. The House of Representatives (DPR), which is fully controlled by the big tent ruling coalition, will first change election system for regional leaders (governors, regents, and mayors).

Indonesia’s political calendar has barely moved on from the 2024 election, yet two new parties have already entered the stage. The declarations of the Gerakan Rakyat Party and the Gema Bangsa Party in the past few days are being framed as signs of democratic vitality. In reality, they offer a more sobering reflection of Indonesia’s enduring political weakness: the dominance of personality over institutions.

President Prabowo Subianto has ordered an expansion of the LPDP scholarship quota. With 80 percent allocated for STEM disciplines, it is framed as a solution to Indonesia’s lag in science and technology. The question is, however: who gets to sit in those additional seats? As long as the selection process remains non-transparent, we will never know whether the scholarship truly reaches Indonesia’s best talents or continues to favor its already-privileged applicants.

The government’s decision to grant ASN status to SPPG employees has generated public debate, particularly in relation to the PPPK recruitment scheme. Critics argue that fast-tracking a new category of employee risks sidelining millions of honorary teachers (guru honorer) who have long awaited inclusion in the PPPK mechanism as a pathway to formal employment and professional security.

A group of students filed a judicial review against the presidential defamation clause at the Mahkamah Konstitusi. They were not merely challenging a provision in the new Criminal Code. They were testing whether post-Reformasi democracy still understands the difference between governing with authority and governing with restraint.

When Prabowo Subianto finally set foot in Ibu Kota Nusantara after more than a year in office, the visit was anything but ceremonial. It was a carefully timed political statement. In Indonesian politics, timing is never accidental—and Prabowo’s delayed engagement with the country’s most ambitious mega-project speaks volumes about how power is consolidated, legacies are negotiated, and distance is deliberately manufactured.

In a democracy, criticism is not an act of hostility. It is a civic obligation. Yet in today’s Indonesia, this basic principle is increasingly under strain. Public criticism—whether voiced by academics, civil society groups, journalists, or opposition politicians—is now routinely framed as an attempt to delegitimize the government of Prabowo Subianto, rather than as a normal exercise of democratic accountability.

Over the past two years, the idea of returning regional head elections (Pilkada) to an indirect system has resurfaced several times in Indonesia’s political debate. Supporters often defend the proposal on pragmatic grounds, arguing that direct elections are too expensive, divisive, and vulnerable to money politics. While these concerns may appear reasonable, reverting to indirect Pilkada within Indonesia’s current political landscape would only accelerate democratic backsliding.

Pandji Pragiwaksono has been reported to the police on charges of public incitement and blasphemy over his stand-up comedy performance titled “Mens Rea”. This incident adds to a growing list of individuals who have faced potential prosecution for speaking out in recent years. It raises concerns about the current state of free expression in the country and how authorities respond to it.