From time to time, Indonesians have been attentive to foreign affairs. Public opinion has often been shaped – sometimes markedly – by the way the government manages its international relations. Episodes such as Brunei-gate the controversy under Abdurrahman Wahid, the Tangguh gas export deal with China during the presidency of Megawati Soekarnoputri, and the intense debates on China-related issues during the era of Joko “Jokowi” Widodo all demonstrate that foreign policy has never been free from domestic contestation. Media coverage has often amplified these debates. This somehow transforms diplomatic choices into matters of public judgment.
Nowhere has this been more evident than in Indonesia’s engagement with China under Jokowi. His administration has elevated China to Indonesia’s top three sources of foreign direct investment, particularly in terms of large-scale infrastructure projects. But this deepening of the partnership has also raised concerns. The arrival of Chinese workers, often seen as living exclusive and isolated lives on construction sites, has sparked fears among local communities about job losses. These concerns have sometimes spilled over into racialized narratives that have dominated headlines and public discourse.
Media coverage played a central role in amplifying these feelings. One of the most controversial moments came when Tempo magazine published its August-September 2015 edition, with a cover depicting Jokowi with slanted eyes and the headline “Welcome Chinese Workers.” This sentiment has reached its peak during the COVID-19 pandemic. In April 2020, at the start of the pandemic, the Jakarta Post reported on local distrust of Chinese workers, describing it as a potential flashpoint in Indonesia-China relations. Yet these examples represent only a fraction of the overwhelming media attention devoted to this issue. The scale of media coverage often does not correspond to the complexity of reality.
What is striking about this wave of criticism is its inconsistency. Jokowi’s predecessor, Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono, also laid the foundations for rapprochement with China. His administration improved bilateral relations twice – from a strategic partnership in 2005 to a comprehensive strategic partnership in 2013 – and actively courted Chinese investment. Even symbolic gestures, such as the issuance of a presidential decree to replace the term “Cina” with “Tiongkok” in official usage, demonstrate a deliberate effort to normalize relations. Yet these measures have not provoked the same level of public reaction. Yudhoyono was never called a “Chinese puppet” like Jokowi was.
The difference lies less in policy than in politics. Under Jokowi, criticism has been amplified by opposition groups, particularly Islamist movements and hardliners, who have been excluded from power. These groups have exerted significant influence on public opinion. They mobilized anti-China rhetoric as part of a broader effort at political protest. On the other hand, during Yudhoyono’s presidency, many of these actors were integrated into the government coalition, which dampened their incentive to oppose it.
This political dynamic changed again under Prabowo Subianto. His administration enjoys an overwhelming parliamentary majority thanks to the Koalisi Indonesia Maju Plus, controlling around 80 percent of legislative seats. More importantly, Prabowo managed to consolidate support from Islamist groups, many of whom were once vocal critics of Jokowi. The result is a significantly calmer public sphere when it comes to foreign policy.
This lack of public criticism and media coverage is striking, given the controversies that have already emerged. The November 2024 joint statement following Prabowo’s state visit to Beijing, which included the phrase “joint development in areas of overlapping demands”, caused concern among scholars and political observers. Yet the measure failed to spark widespread public protest or sustained media attention. Even the Jakarta Post adopted a relatively measured tone, describing Prabowo’s approach as a pragmatic effort to balance relations with China amid Donald Trump’s expected return to the White House.
Equally remarkable is the disappearance of narratives that once dominated public discourse. Anti-communist rhetoric linking China to atheism, which was frequently deployed against Jokowi, has largely disappeared in most media outlets. Islamist groups that once mobilized anti-China sentiment now appear subdued, making little more than mild statements even on issues of central importance to the Muslim world. Prabowo’s engagement in initiatives such as Trump’s “Peace Council”, for example, received only limited reactions, with organizations like Majelis Ulama Indonesia eventually softening their stance after direct engagement with the president.
What emerges from all this is a paradox: at a time when foreign policy decisions are particularly consequential and sometimes controversial, public scrutiny has diminished. It would be naive to claim that Indonesian media has become fully and systematically a channel of public representation. In practice, media independence in Indonesia is still limited by a concentrated ownership structure. Reporters Without Borders also reports that Indonesia’s economic and political elites exploit a legal system that does not sufficiently protect press freedom.
Meanwhile, public attention has turned inward, preoccupied with domestic economic challenges, post-pandemic recovery and flagship programs such as the Makan Bergizi Free (Free nutritious meals).
This is not a functional balance. Foreign policy conducted without meaningful public oversight risks becoming too personalized, shaped more by executive preferences than by deliberative consensus. Indonesia’s democratic strength has long depended on its ability to conduct open debate. Even when this debate is messy or polarized, it serves as a safeguard against demagoguery.
The task before us is to restore balance. Media diversity must be encouraged in the interest of a full-fledged democracy. Media institutions must move beyond episodic coverage and invest in deeper, more analytical reporting. Drawing on academic expertise, contextualizing policy decisions, and resisting sensationalism and complacency are essential steps toward more constructive discourse.
Prabowo’s foreign policy is perhaps less vocal than that of his predecessor. But quieter doesn’t necessarily mean better. Without sustained critical public engagement, silence risks allowing flawed foreign policy decisions to go unchecked.