The current global constellation of powers has presented Indonesian President Prabowo Subianto with an opportunity not given to any of his predecessors. Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono was too “woke” and pacifist to confront, while Joko Widodo understood too little to even care. With the United States’ global authority unravelling, Europe distracted, China asserting itself, and Russia desperately seeking legitimacy, the geopolitical stage is more open and yet more volatile than ever before.
And on this stage stands Prabowo, a man long waiting in the wings, always wanting to be seen, to speak, to lead. In his moment of arrival, he finds himself surrounded by actors remarkably like himself. Donald Trump, Vladimir Putin, Benjamin Netanyahu, Narendra Modi. Leaders are all with fishy pasts, messy moral records, and deep appetites for spectacle. Leaders who project strength while eroding institutions, who craft their personas in post-truth realities. For a man like Prabowo, the world has never felt more familiar.
What would have disqualified him in a more rational, democratic era, taking into account his military dismissal, the allegations of human rights abuse and his past authoritarian flirtations, It is now seem less disqualifying. They are, in fact, increasingly common features of power.
It is as if the world has conspired to lower the bar just in time for him to step over it.
Prabowo’s recent diplomatic moves illustrate this strange fortune. Faced with an invitation to the G7 summit in Canada, a gathering of the Western club still clinging to its fading moral authority, he chose instead to meet with Russian President Vladimir Putin in Moscow. He turned his back on the world’s old order, opting for a photo with a wartime president now indicted by the International Criminal Court. It was not a calculated realignment, nor a bold new doctrine. It was impulsive, maybe even instinctive. But it was not meaningless.
In that moment, Indonesia declared, perhaps accidentally, that it would no longer sit quietly in the waiting room of global politics. It would knock on any door it chose, East or West, open or closed.
This could have been a masterstroke of diplomacy, had it been part of a clear, coherent strategy. But there’s the problem: there is no real strategy: only gestures. Indonesia, under Prabowo, risks becoming a nation of postures, not policies. And gestures, no matter how dramatic, rarely build legacy.
Prabowo’s impulsiveness is legendary. His language unfiltered, his gestures theatrical, his speeches often a mixture of aggression and sentimentality. He says what others fear to say, not out of bravery, but out of sheer disregard for consequence. He rides on mood, not method.
And yet, ironically, the world is ready for such a leader.
This is not praise. This is a warning.
Because what we are witnessing globally is not strength, but the hollowing out of meaning, replaced by image, noise, anger. In this environment, Prabowo’s tendencies do not appear as aberrations but as qualifications. A background once seen as dark becomes “complex.” A voice once unfit for diplomacy becomes “authentic.” A lack of planning becomes “flexibility.”
In this era, the line between statesmanship and showmanship has blurred. And Prabowo, knowingly or not, walks that line with increasing confidence.
But Indonesia deserves better than confidence alone.
It deserves competence.
It deserves clarity of vision.
Indonesia’s foreign policy potential is immense. It is the world’s third-largest democracy, the largest Muslim-majority nation, an archipelagic power with cultural weight and historical legitimacy in the Global South. At moments of global crisis, when war returns to Europe, when Gaza burns, when Islamophobia rises, when climate injustice deepens, Indonesia could be a voice of principle, moderation, and leadership.
But principles do not emerge from impulse. Leadership is not made by charisma alone. And diplomacy, especially in these times, must be more than handshakes and symbolic defiance.
To achieve this, Prabowo cannot lead alone. Nor should he.
Within the Foreign Ministry lie decades of institutional wisdom. Indonesia’s seasoned diplomats—men and women like Hassan Wirajuda, Marty Natalegawa, Dino Patti Djalal, and Retno Marsudi—understand the nuance and patience diplomacy requires. These are not performers. They are architects. They have dealt with the contradictions of being Muslim and democratic, neutral but assertive, large but often overlooked. They know how to speak with power and still carry dignity.
Imagine if this deep, steady intelligence were harnessed, not sidelined. Imagine if Prabowo, instead of charging forward solo, turned to those who have walked the long road of diplomacy. Not to mimic them, but to learn from them. To plan beyond the photo op. To think beyond the mood of the day.
Because Indonesia’s global strategy cannot be made on instinct. It must be built on conviction.
This is especially urgent now. Israel’s continuing violence in Gaza and attacks on Iran have shaken the Muslim world. The West’s double standards are exposed for all to see. In this context, Indonesia is being watched, not just for what it says, but for what it does not say. Silence is also a stance.
Prabowo, if he is serious about global leadership, must resist the temptation to simply play both sides for attention. He must decide whether Indonesia will be a follower of spectacle or a builder of substance.
This includes how we approach ASEAN.
For too long, Indonesia has carried ASEAN as a badge but not a responsibility. If Indonesia now seeks a global role, it must first lead its neighborhood: resolve regional conflicts, advocate for democratic standards, push for a bolder, less bureaucratic ASEAN. That’s where real credibility begins.
In the end, Prabowo’s fortune is not just that the world now favors strongmen.
It is that Indonesia still has the resources, either human, diplomatic, or moral, to rise above them.
But fortune, like history, is slippery. It rewards those who act with courage and clarity. Not just those who shout the loudest.
The stage is set for Indonesia.
But the script is still empty.
And time, as always, is watching.
Omong-Omong Media’s editorial is also published in The Jakarta Post every Monday.
