If President Prabowo Subianto truly meant what he said during his recent visit to Singapore, that he would “copy with pride” its model of governance, then by now he should have reshuffled his cabinet entirely. He should have embraced meritocracy, appointing the most capable Indonesians regardless of political debt or personal loyalty.
He should have paused and rigorously evaluated each of his programs, scrapping those that fail to serve the public. The trillions allocated to vanity projects should have been redirected toward reindustrializing a country long stuck in premature deindustrialization.
Instead, eight months into his presidency, Prabowo has delivered something dangerously close to parody: a government adrift, run by incompetent ministers, and led by a president increasingly allergic to accountability, resorting to tired blame games about foreign interference, as failing regimes often do.
The rot begins at the top. Despite growing public concern, Prabowo continues to insist that his cabinet operates as a unified, effective team. But beyond press releases and staged appearances, there’s little evidence the administration has a functional grasp of its duties, or even a shared understanding of its goals. Coordination between ministries is weak, critical sectors lack direction, and the president refuses to reshuffle, clinging to the illusion of unity while ignoring the reality of dysfunction.
How else can one explain why three of Indonesia’s most critical ambassadorial posts—to the United States, the United Nations, and Germany—have remained vacant for so long? If the foreign minister were capable, these posts would have been filled months ago with credible appointees.
Or take Cooperative Minister Budi Arie Setiadi. Despite widespread media reports accusing him of shielding online gambling networks and his underwhelming tenure as information minister, he now oversees the Red and White Cooperative, an enormous economic program worth trillions of rupiah. Why? Because loyalty, not performance, is rewarded.
Then there’s Bahlil Lahadalia, now minister of energy and mineral resources. Under his watch, mining companies in Raja Ampat were allowed to operate without proper permits, putting one of Indonesia’s most valuable environmental and tourism treasures at risk. Or Tito Karnavian, the home affairs minister, who recently signed off on a controversial decree transferring three islands from Aceh to North Sumatra, governed by Bobby Nasution, the son-in-law of former President Joko Widodo. Both scandals were so egregious that Prabowo himself had to step in.
These are not isolated lapses. They are symptoms of a deeper rot, a leadership culture that tolerates, even rewards, underperformance.
Let’s state it plainly: tens of thousands of Indonesians have lost their jobs under Prabowo’s watch. And what has the government done? Nothing. As if it hopes the crisis will quietly disappear and the public will simply forget.
Nowhere is the dysfunction more visible than in Prabowo’s approach to appointments. More than a dozen deputy ministers, positions widely seen as political favors, have quietly been installed as commissioners of state-owned enterprises (BUMN). Holding dual roles is not just unethical; it’s impractical. No individual can effectively manage two high-responsibility posts. This system promotes a political class obsessed with status and titles, loyal to the president, not to the people.
This administrative chaos has derailed Prabowo’s flagship programs. Take the Free Nutritious Meals Program (MBG). In theory, a noble initiative to provide schoolchildren with daily lunches. In practice, it has been a public health disaster. Thousands of children fell ill from food poisoning due to poor oversight, rushed implementation, and unclear supply chains. Yet Prabowo insists the program is “99 percent successful.” The denial would be laughable if it weren’t so dangerous.
Then there’s Danantara, a so-called digital super-platform launched with grand promises. Today, it exists as little more than an idea. What is its function? Who does it serve? When will it deliver results? No one seems to know. Funding flows, jargon flies, but results are nowhere to be found.
And what of the Red and White Cooperative? Marketed as a game-changing financial program for grassroots growth, it is now a giant black hole of public funds. There is no clarity on who manages it, how it operates, or what safeguards exist to prevent misuse. Entrusting this to Budi Arie Setiadi only deepens public skepticism. Without transparency and oversight, such colossal spending is not development. It’s a disaster waiting to happen.
Yet inside Prabowo’s inner circle, silence reigns. He is surrounded not by technocrats, but by loyalists. Not by professionals, but performers. Constructive criticism is absent. Sycophancy is the norm. And dissent isn’t discouraged. It’s excluded entirely.
This culture of denial extends to the president himself. He dismisses criticism as misinformation, touts unverified success metrics, and deflects concerns with vague appeals to nationalism and unity. But unity without competence is not strength. It’s stagnation.
To be clear: all administrations must balance political interests. But what Prabowo has delivered is not compromise. It is surrender: to patronage, to inefficiency, to political barter over policy substance. A presidency that promised transformation is becoming a cautionary tale.
And this is the real tragedy: the challenges facing Indonesia are enormous and immediate. The economy is deindustrializing prematurely. Infrastructure is patchy. Education remains underfunded and is one of the worst in Southeast Asia. Climate risks loom large. This is not a moment for spectacle. It is a moment for leadership.
If Prabowo truly seeks to emulate Singapore, he must embrace its core value: governance by competence. In Singapore, civil servants are selected on merit, evaluated on results, and held to high standards. Failure is not explained away. It is fixed, or replaced.
Indonesia deserves the same.
Instead, we have a government obsessed with appearances, fueled by WhatsApp groups, and mistaking motion for progress. The public sees it. Civil society sees it. Even political insiders, quietly, see it. But no one moves, afraid that pulling back the curtain will collapse the entire illusion.
It’s not too late. Prabowo still has time to course-correct. But that begins with honesty. It begins with replacing underperforming ministers. With admitting what’s not working. With choosing the public over political convenience.
Indonesia does not lack talent. It lacks the will to place talent where it belongs.
Mr. President, leadership begins not with denial. But with truth.
Omong-Omong Media’s editorial is also published in The Jakarta Post every Monday.
