Indonesia, explained.
Indonesia's President Prabowo Subianto during the commemoration of Pancasila Day at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs compound in Jakarta, 2 June 2025 (Yasuyoshi Chiba/AFP via Getty Images)
The Indonesian President seeks advantage wherever it can be found – but deal-making may cost his country’s influence.
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Prabowo’s first year: Visibility without vision in Indonesian foreign policyPrabowo’s first year: Visibility without vision in Indonesian foreign policy
It was a tableau of 21st century power. Under the chandeliers of the Great Hall of the People, Indonesia’s President Prabowo Subianto stood beside China’s Xi Jinping and Russia’s Vladimir Putin as cameras flashed. Prabowo’s firm handshake and soldierly stance stood out amid the technocratic calm of his hosts.
Weeks later, he appeared at the United Nations General Assembly, his voice rising and falling with a general’s cadence as he spoke of “balanced independence.” Outside, protesters rallied over Gaza.
Days later in Cairo, Prabowo joined the Gaza peace summit in Egypt’s Sharm El Sheikh, calling for “humanitarian balance” while steering clear of the word occupation. Indonesia’s foreign minister, Sugiono, later said that Prabowo was seen internationally as a “global peace-maker”, a phrase that framed the moment as triumph rather than tension.
The three scenes in Beijing, New York, and Cairo traced the choreography of Prabowo’s diplomacy, visible and restless, everywhere at once, yet anchored nowhere.
The diplomatic circuit (Photos: @prabowo/X, White House/Flickr)
Prabowo’s first year in office has tested how far Indonesia can stretch its diplomacy before losing coherence. The country’s foreign policy now operates in a volatile environment where great-power rivalries have hardened, the regional order has fragmented, and middle powers are struggling to define their agency. Indonesia has answered this uncertainty not with doctrine but with activism that seeks advantage wherever it can be found. The question is whether this opportunism represents adaptation or drift.
Jakarta’s conduct shows a steady replacement of principle with transaction. Indonesia has chosen participation over persuasion by joining BRICS while applying for OECD membership. Each move brings tactical flexibility, but together they reveal an absence of hierarchy among goals. Diplomacy has become a search for position rather than purpose.
This recalibration is clearest in relations with major powers. Prabowo’s decision to visit China first was not mere scheduling but a deliberate signal of alignment. He then attended Beijing’s military parade on 3 September, commemorating the 80th anniversary of Japan’s defeat, an event heavy with historical symbolism and contemporary power projection. Beijing’s role as Indonesia’s main investor and trading partner now outweighs ASEAN’s symbolic centrality. Engagement with Washington continues but is increasingly commercial, focused on defence sales and tariff deals rather than strategic dialogue. The United States remains a partner of necessity, not of vision.
Indonesia now practices selective alignment, building partnerships issue by issue and shifting with material interest. In defence, it turns to France for prestige procurement, while in infrastructure, it looks to China for capital. In multilateral arenas, it speaks of inclusivity but rarely defines what that means. The pattern fits an era of multipolar bargaining but departs from Indonesia’s earlier identity as a mediating middle power.
Partners struggle to read Jakarta’s intentions because they depend on the president’s shifting calculus rather than stable commitments.
This pragmatism has most sharply affected regional diplomacy. ASEAN, once Indonesia’s anchor, now serves mainly as a ceremony. Prabowo’s government participates but rarely leads. Crises, from Myanmar’s civil war to South China Sea tensions, proceed without Indonesian initiative. Leadership has been replaced by attendance and consensus by convenience. Neighbours quietly adjust, hedging their bets rather than waiting for Jakarta’s direction.
The Gaza episode revealed a deeper uncertainty. Indonesia now struggles to connect its moral language with strategic intent. Once a consistent advocate for justice and decolonisation, with the moral authority that came from non-alignment, it has retreated into cautious neutrality, seeking safety in balance rather than leadership through conviction.
Behind these choices lies a structural change within government. The foreign ministry, once the guardian of professional diplomacy, has been overshadowed by the presidency. Policy direction now flows from the palace, shaped by a small circle of advisers. Indonesia’s external behaviour reflects personal preference more than institutional planning. Prabowo’s foreign policy is not incoherent by accident but by design. It concentrates authority in one office and measures success through visibility rather than results.
Supporters call this efficiency, arguing that a strong presidency ensures unity of voice in a competitive region. Yet partners struggle to read Jakarta’s intentions because they depend on the president’s shifting calculus rather than stable commitments. Influence built on charisma fades when attention moves elsewhere, but confidence in diplomacy grows through predictability, not surprise.
Strategic transactionalism, the hallmark of Prabowo’s first year, offers agility but at two costs. Conceptually, it reduces foreign policy to bargaining. Reputationally, when every engagement becomes a deal, others respond in kind, and trust erodes. Indonesia risks being seen as a country that is always available but rarely reliable.
The irony is that this instrumentalism appears just as Indonesia’s weight is growing. The economy is expanding, the digital and green sectors are maturing, and demographic trends promise sustained growth. Yet power alone does not create influence without an anchoring narrative. For decades, Indonesia’s relevance came from turning its limitations into a philosophy built on moderation, dialogue, and respect for sovereignty. That moral vocabulary has faded.
Observers often describe Prabowo’s diplomacy as restless or hyperactive, but the truer word may be absorptive. Indonesia absorbs the logic of others rather than articulating its own. Leaders invoke independence yet mirror the transactionalism they claim to balance. If this continues, Indonesia’s foreign policy will increasingly resemble a mirror instead of a compass. The republic that once guided decolonising nations toward confidence now follows others’ trajectories, adjusting its angles but not its principles.
One year on, Prabowo has stood in palaces and parliaments, speaking of balance and independence. He has shaken hands with autocrats and democrats alike, promising friendship and respect each time. Yet as the cameras fade and the applause quiets, one question remains. What story does Indonesia want the world to hear, and who is writing it?
About the author
Virdika Rizky Utama
Virdika Rizky Utama, known as Virdi, is a Political Researcher and Executive Director at PARA Syndicate in Jakarta.
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