Australia as whipping boy in Indonesia’s internal battles

There has been a lot of confusion about the recent abrupt cancellation of Australia-Indonesia military cooperation and, with the exception of language teaching, its resumption. As should have been clear from the outset, Australia has been used as a whipping boy for an internal Indonesian power play.

The trouble started at the SAS base in Perth, where some Indonesian special forces (Kopassus) also train, over what was described as an insult to Indonesia’s national ideology of Pancasila (Five Principles). The insult referred to a document that read ‘Pancagila’, a word play that translates as ‘five crazies’.

However, the matter quickly escalated to include references to West Papua, some teaching material that was unflattering towards aspects of the Indonesian military’s history, the possibility that Australia was recruiting Kopassus officers as spies, verbal commentary and that US Marines are rotating through Darwin. What should have been identified within Australia at the outset, however, was that all of this was a pretext for an assertion of power within Indonesia.

Most notably, the suspension of military cooperation was ordered by Indonesian military (TNI) chief General Gatot Nurmantyo, rather than by the Defence Minister, General (ret.) Ryamizard Ryacudu or President Joko ‘Jokowi’ Widodo. Military commanders have, with one exception (1984), always kept their politicking more or less in-house.

However, Gatot had earlier made clear that he is no fan of what has called Indonesia’s ‘empty’ democracy and is of the TNI’s faction that again wants to see it take a more active role in Indonesian political affairs. While the TNI has retained influence in the ‘reform’ era, that influence was significantly reduced compared with its pre-reform political function.

In 2015, then TNI commander General Moeldoko attempted to reprise the TNI’s more direct political influence through a ‘multi-function’ role. This included greater involvement in domestic counter-terrorism operations, which had in part been ceded to the police, and with serving officers again occupying positions in the civilian bureaucracy.

Part of the rationale for reprising this active political role was a faction of the TNI had decreasing faith in the efficacy of civilian politics. Such maneuvering would put the TNI in a better position to rebuild some of its business interests lost during the Asian financial crisis of 1997-98 and as a consequence of it being brought more directly under civilian authority.   

General Gatot was close to Moeldoko, shared his views in military-civil relations and was, in effect, foisted upon a hapless President Jokowi after Jokowi assumed office. That Jokowi has no military connections, does not understand or have much respect for the military and is widely seen as a politically weak and ineffective leader made him a prime target for an assertion of TNI’s ‘multi-function’ agenda.

In that there may have been ‘offensive’ materials at the SAS base was not new. Kopassus officers have been rotating through the base on joint training exercises for 10 of the past 11 years.

However, if a TNI commander wanted to embarrass a weak president, exercising unilateral authority in an area not normally under presidential control was the perfect way to do it. That Jokowi has been in talks with his primary political opponent, former hard-line General (ret.), Prabowo Subianto about forming a political alliance to strengthen his failing presidency made the timing just that much sweeter.

The timing also follows Gatot leading an anti-Islamist protest in Jakarta in December, in response to Islamist rioting. The rioting was over ‘offense’ to Islam allegedly caused by Jakarta’s Chinese-Christian Governor Basuki Tjahaja Purnama (‘Ahok’).

Ahok was deputy to Jokowi when he was Jakarta governor, and assumed the governorship when Jokowi left the position to run for the presidency. In one of his many shows of weakness, Jokowi has abandoned his erstwhile political ally. In a show of his own political authority, Gatot led the counter-rally.

In trying to rescue the situation, Jokowi has since tried to dampen down the bilateral fall-out from this affair. He has limited military restrictions and said that relations with Australia are otherwise generally okay.

Jokowi’s second rescue maneuver accepts that there was some offence and to retain suspension of military cooperation in the allegedly offending area. This, then, helps ensure that Indonesia’s more assertive nationalists are mollified and that the hard-line TNI officers are not given further opportunity to undermine Jokowi.

Australia’s position has been to deny that it has attempted to recruit Kopassus members as spies; they would be especially poor ‘special forces’ officers if they were genuinely vulnerable to such entreaties in any case. Australia’s other response has been to apologise for what it may or may not have done and to commit to removing any offensive material, whether it exists or not.

The alternative for Australia is to say that the materials did not exist or that they had not previously been construed as offensive. This refutation, would, however, inflame tensions and weaken Jokoqi’s position relative to the TNI. Australia is at pains to avoid this. In the convoluted, face-saving world of diplomacy, it is less the reality of what one does or says and much more appearances which are important.      

The other question that has been asked is why Australia continues its military cooperation with the TNI and especially its special forces. Despite the TNI’s and, in particular, Kopassus’ sometimes very poor human rights reputation, what is important is much less the ‘training’ and much more the mutual familiarity.

If push ever comes to shove, both countries recognize they are vastly better served by having militaries that can talk to each other. The alternative is that they do what they are trained to do, and that is going to war.