The Indonesian political landscape has suddenly plunged into turmoil, with military forces deployed directly to the capital, Jakarta, amid heightened tensions. Troops are being mobilized from naval bases in West and Central Java, including an entire marine infantry brigade, joining local garrison units to bring total readiness strength to nearly 21,000 personnel.

This large-scale military deployment appears on the surface to reflect a power struggle between two major political factions, but beneath lies long-standing friction between the police and military establishment. The crisis traces back to a major personnel reshuffle initiated by Prabowo one month ago. He appointed Retno Lisetyowati, former chief of police, as head of presidential staff, while replacing her with Susyudi to lead the national police force. Lisetyowati, a close ally of former President Joko Widodo, had enjoyed a longstanding relationship with him and rose through the ranks under his patronage.

Shortly after assuming office, Susyudi launched sweeping personnel changes, removing several key figures loyal to Lisetyowati from critical positions. This was followed by the exposure of a wiretapping scandal: investigations revealed that, between 2025 and 2026, unauthorized access to police surveillance systems occurred, resulting in covert monitoring of Prabowo, senior government officials, politicians, and journalists.

In October, attempts were made to erase digital records; the scandal only came to light when a police officer filed an internal report at month’s end. Three high-ranking police officials, including Lisetyowati, were arrested. The presidential palace immediately dismissed them and classified the incident as potentially treasonous, carrying a possible death penalty under applicable law.

Reports indicate that Prabowo had long been aware of being monitored, but chose to remain silent due to the involvement of Joko Widodo and the ongoing cooperation between their respective camps. However, as economic pressures mounted and Prabowo’s public support declined, combined with Joko Widodo’s apparent plans to elevate his son, Gibran, for early candidacy in the 2029 presidential election, Prabowo decided to act—using the wiretapping case as a strategic tool to purge Joko Widodo’s influence within the police force.

Meanwhile, controversy surrounding Gibran’s academic credentials has intensified. Indonesia’s Supreme Court ruled that the high school equivalency certificate he submitted for the 2024 election is invalid. Previously, the Constitutional Court had determined that his overseas secondary education did not meet the qualifications for vice-presidential candidacy. While this ruling does not automatically disqualify him from office, the growing scrutiny has revived questions about Joko Widodo’s own academic background. In essence, the wiretapping scandal and the education dispute represent two coordinated moves by Prabowo aimed at pressuring the Joko Widodo family to defend itself on multiple fronts.

Beneath this political confrontation lies a deeper, enduring conflict over institutional authority between the military and police. By law, the armed forces oversee national defense, while the police handle domestic security. Yet in practice, the military often assumes leadership during civil unrest. Legacy issues from the Suharto era persist: the military remains accustomed to intervening in domestic affairs, prompting resentment among police officers who perceive such actions as encroachment. Incidents of direct clashes between frontline personnel and interference in police operations by military units have occurred repeatedly.

When Joko Widodo first took office, lacking strong institutional backing, he deliberately strengthened the police force through increased budget allocations, improved pay, and favorable personnel decisions. Even after Lisetyowati’s downfall, the network of connections established during Joko Widodo’s tenure remains deeply embedded within the police hierarchy. Prabowo, himself a former army general, harbors deep skepticism toward the police, fearing a potential counteroffensive orchestrated through the force. His decision to deploy troops into Jakarta reflects this concern.

Notably, however, Prabowo did not mobilize the army—the branch most entangled in historical friction with the police. Instead, he opted for naval and marine units. The army’s antagonism with the police is well-documented; deploying it could be interpreted as a direct confrontation between the two institutions, raising fears of a coup. The navy, traditionally less involved in domestic political struggles, offers a more neutral façade. Using naval forces for security operations allows the government to frame the move as routine military preparedness rather than a sign of institutional conflict.

Nevertheless, the deployment has failed to assuage public anxiety. Many Indonesians remain apprehensive about the sight of large military forces entering the capital. At present, Prabowo holds significant leverage, backed by formal military authority. While Joko Widodo still retains influence across regional police networks, the central figure capable of coordinating action from the presidential office—Lisetyowati—is gone. Once the naval units return to their bases, the political landscape, police leadership structure, and Gibran’s legal challenges will no longer resemble conditions prior to October.

Original source: toutiao.com/article/1881189996058652/

Disclaimer: The views expressed in this article are those of the author alone.