Petruk, Fake Manuscript and Betoro Kolo

In the sprawling theatre of cyberspace, Petruk emerges not as the rustic jester of old but as a modern influencer, his elongated frame crowned with the coveted blue tick of authority. He proclaims possession of a “digital sacred manuscript”—a relic that supposedly validates his stature for a decade—yet curiously, he never allows the public to glimpse it.

Instead of unveiling the manuscript, Petruk summons the Betoro Kolo, spectral entities born of algorithms, who swarm across the platforms with unearthly zeal. These Betoro Kolo, faceless and tireless, march in synchronised formation, each armed with a glowing device, their mission clear: to drown inquiry in noise.

“Any who question Petruk’s manuscript are liars and deceivers!” they bellow, their voices echoing through comment threads and timelines alike. The digital crowd splinters: some laugh at the absurdity, others scratch their heads in confusion, while a growing number harbour suspicion.

Petruk, ever the performer, forces a crooked grin, convinced that smoke and spectacle are more persuasive than the simple act of proof.

The Betoro Kolo cavort upon TikTok’s stage, choreographing dances, crafting memes, and launching the hashtag #SacredManuscriptAuthentic with relentless fervour. Yet irony reigns supreme: the louder the hashtag resounds, the more insistent the question becomes—“Where is the manuscript?”

The unseen puppeteer sighs, for the play has already shifted: it is no longer about truth, but about who can shout the loudest in the theatre of shadows.

The Betoro Kolo, clever but dim, launches their campaign with a barrage of hashtags, each more grandiose than the last, as though repetition alone could conjure truth. Petruk, delighted by the spectacle, retweets their clamour, mistaking noise for validation, and validation for proof. The hashtags multiply like weeds in a neglected garden: #SacredManuscriptAuthentic, #TrustPetruk, #ProofBeyondProof. Netizens, irrepressibly mischievous, respond with counter‑hashtags, parodying the parody: #WhereIsTheManuscript, #PetrukPapersPlease, #BetoroKoloCarnival. The digital battlefield becomes a clash of slogans, each side convinced that trending topics are the measure of reality.

Petruk beams, his elongated nose twitching with pride, as though the sheer volume of hashtags were evidence enough. Yet the irony bites: the louder the Betoro Kolo shout, the more the absence of the manuscript gnaws at the audience’s imagination.

The puppeteer, unseen but weary, observes that the play has become a contest of noise, a gamelan of hashtags clashing in dissonant rhythm. Truth, once a simple matter of showing the manuscript, now lies buried beneath layers of digital cacophony.

And so the Hashtag Wars rage on, a theatre where slogans masquerade as substance, and silence is drowned beneath the roar of Betoro Kolo’s endless chorus.

The Betoro Kolo, restless in their campaign, descend upon TikTok and Instagram, choreographing dances that proclaim Petruk’s manuscript without ever showing it. Their routines, absurd yet hypnotic, spread like wildfire, each step a declaration that noise is proof.

Petruk, ever eager, reposts their antics, mistaking virality for vindication, and vindication for truth. Critics, sharp‑tongued and inventive, respond with memes of their own, parodying Petruk’s evasions with biting humour.

The battlefield becomes a carnival of irony, where satire and spectacle clash in endless loops of digital performance. Betoro Kolo flood the feeds with GIFs and stickers, each bearing slogans of loyalty, each louder than the last.

Netizens, weary yet amused, remix the memes, turning Petruk’s crooked grin into a symbol of evasion. The manuscript, still unseen, becomes the central joke: a phantom relic endlessly invoked, never revealed.

The puppeteer, watching from the shadows, notes that the play has become a meme war, a contest of wit and absurdity. And so the Meme Battlefield rages, a theatre where laughter and suspicion intertwine, and truth is buried beneath layers of parody.

Petruk, ever conscious of appearances, cultivates his crooked grin as though it were a brand, a mask of confidence worn to conceal uncertainty. He insists that belief is stronger than proof, that faith in his persona outweighs the absence of the manuscript. Betoro Kolo seize upon this grin, transforming it into stickers, GIFs, and profile pictures, a digital emblem of loyalty. The grin spreads across platforms, replicated endlessly, until it becomes a symbol not of joy but of evasion.

Netizens, sharp‑eyed, begin to question why a smile must substitute for substance, why laughter is offered in place of evidence. Petruk, undeterred, amplifies his grin, convinced that repetition will silence doubt, that spectacle will suffice. Betoro Kolo, obedient as ever, floods the feeds with smiling Petruks, each one louder, brighter, more insistent than the last. Yet the irony deepens: the more the grin is displayed, the more it reveals its hollowness, a mask stretched thin over absence.

The puppeteer, weary but amused, notes that the play has become a theatre of smiles, where confidence is feigned and truth deferred. And so the Influencer’s Smile reigns, a crooked emblem of persuasion, masking the void where the manuscript ought to be.

The Betoro Kolo, emboldened after thinking he had won the meme arena, evolved into an army of bots, multiplying with mechanical precision on every platform. Their voices, once human‑like, now become automated echoes, programmed to repeat slogans without pause or thought. Petruk, delighted by the sheer scale, boasts of his loyal following, mistaking artificial numbers for genuine devotion. The feeds swell with identical messages, each one a copy of the last, a chorus of algorithms drowning out dissent. Netizens, sharp and sceptical, begin to notice the uncanny rhythm, the hollow cadence of manufactured loyalty.

Yet Petruk clings to the illusion, convinced that quantity alone can silence the nagging absence of the manuscript. Betoro Kolo march like digital soldiers, their formation flawless, their purpose singular: to overwhelm inquiry with repetition.

The puppeteer, observing from the shadows, remarks that the play has become a machine, a theatre where ghosts of code masquerade as conviction. Truth, once a simple relic to be shown, now flickers like a faint signal lost amidst the static of automation. And so the Algorithmic Army reigns, a legion of spectral bots, loyal not to truth but to noise, their endless chorus masking the void at the heart of Petruk’s claim.

Amidst the clamour of bots and hashtags, independent voices begin to rise, weaving parables of the missing manuscript with wit and defiance. These voices, unaligned with Petruk’s chorus, craft stories that expose the absurdity of endless noise without substance. They speak of shadows where proof should stand, of relics invoked but never revealed, of faith demanded without evidence.

Betoro Kolo, ever vigilant, descend upon them, labelling dissenters as traitors, enemies of the digital realm.

Petruk, emboldened by their aggression, nods approvingly, mistaking suppression for strength. Yet the satire sharpens: the more dissent is silenced, the more suspicion festers, the more the absence of the manuscript becomes undeniable. Netizens, curious and amused, begin to share the counter‑narratives, remixing them into memes and stories that spread beyond Petruk’s reach.

The Betoro Kolo redouble their attacks, but their fury only amplifies the voices they seek to erase. The puppeteer, watching with weary eyes, notes that the play has shifted once more: dissent reframed as disloyalty, loyalty demanded at the expense of truth.

And so the Counter‑Narrative thrives, a chorus of irony and resistance, mocking Petruk’s evasions and exposing the hollow theatre of Betoro Kolo’s defence.

Social media, once a forum for dialogue, transforms into a carnival, its rhythms echoing like gamelan struck in chaotic dissonance. Betoro Kolo orchestrates the spectacle, unleashing fireworks of hashtags, memes, and viral dances that dazzle but never enlighten. Petruk, centre‑stage, twirls amidst the clamour, pretending mastery over the chaos, his crooked grin stretched wider than ever. The feeds erupt with digital confetti, slogans raining down like coloured paper, each one proclaiming loyalty without substance.

Netizens, half amused and half exhausted, watch the carnival unfold, unsure whether to laugh or lament. The manuscript, invoked in every chant, remains unseen, a phantom relic hidden behind the curtain of spectacle. Betoro Kolo, tireless performers, choreograph ever louder routines, their noise swelling until silence itself seems impossible.

Petruk revels in the illusion, mistaking the carnival’s brightness for proof, its clamour for conviction. The puppeteer, weary yet wry, observes that the play has become a festival of noise, a theatre where truth is drowned beneath endless performance. And so the Festival of Noise reigns, dazzling and hollow, a pageant of distraction masking the void at the heart of Petruk’s claim.

The endless carnival of noise begins to wear upon the audience, its brilliance fading into monotony, its clamour into fatigue. Netizens, once amused, now scroll past Petruk’s proclamations with weary eyes, their laughter dulled by repetition. Some abandon the digital theatre altogether, seeking quieter corners where dialogue still breathes. Others remain, not out of conviction, but out of habit, watching the spectacle as one watches a soap opera long past its prime.

Petruk, oblivious to the waning interest, continues to insist upon the manuscript’s existence, offering slogans in place of substance. Betoro Kolo, tireless as ever, amplify his words, their chorus swelling louder, brighter, more desperate. Yet the louder they shout, the more hollow their cries sound, echoing against the thinning patience of the crowd. Netizens begin to parody their exhaustion, crafting memes of yawning faces and empty slogans, mocking the futility of endless noise.

The puppeteer, watching with a sigh, notes that the play has become a theatre of fatigue, where spectacle breeds cynicism rather than belief. And so the Weariness of the Crowd settles in, a quiet rebellion against Petruk’s clamour, a reminder that even noise cannot sustain attention forever.

Beneath the roar of hashtags and the glare of memes, a quieter current begins to stir, a murmur threading through the digital crowd. Netizens, fatigued by spectacle, start to whisper questions: “Where is the manuscript?” “Why has it never been shown?”

These whispers, subtle yet persistent, slip past the noise, lodging themselves in the minds of those who once cheered. Betoro Kolo, alarmed, attempts to drown the murmurs with louder slogans, but their clamour only sharpens the contrast. Petruk, sensing unease, forces his crooked grin wider, insisting that doubt is treachery, that silence is loyalty.

Yet the whispers grow, spreading like smoke through the theatre, intangible but impossible to contain. Netizens begin to share screenshots, threads, and parables, each one a reminder of the manuscript’s absence. The chorus of doubt, though softer than the carnival’s roar, proves more enduring, more unsettling.

The puppeteer, watching with a knowing smile, notes that the play has shifted yet again: noise cannot silence doubt, for doubt thrives in the spaces between. And so the Whisper of Doubt lingers, a quiet rebellion against Petruk’s spectacle, a reminder that truth cannot be conjured by noise alone.

The carnival of Petruk’s performance, once dazzling, begins to falter, its rhythms stumbling like a gamelan struck off‑beat. Netizens, weary of endless slogans, turn away, their attention drifting to fresher spectacles beyond Petruk’s reach. Betoro Kolo, desperate, unleash louder campaigns, but their clamour echoes hollow in the thinning theatre. Petruk, clinging to his crooked grin, insists that the manuscript exists, though his words now sound brittle, worn by repetition.

The feeds, once ablaze with colour, fade into monotony, their confetti of slogans dissolving into silence. Netizens parody the collapse, crafting memes of empty stages and vanished relics, mocking the futility of Petruk’s insistence. The manuscript, invoked yet unseen, becomes the symbol of absence itself, a void at the centre of the spectacle. Betoro Kolo, exhausted, falter in their chorus, their voices thinning, their loyalty fraying.

The puppeteer, with a weary smile, notes that the play has reached its turning point: spectacle cannot endure without substance. And so the Collapse of Spectacle unfolds, a theatre crumbling under its own noise, leaving only silence where proof should have been.

The theatre, once ablaze with spectacle, now stands in uneasy silence, its audience restless, its illusions fraying. Netizens, weary of slogans and smiles, demand substance, their questions sharper, their patience gone.

Petruk, cornered, insists again upon the manuscript, his crooked grin trembling under the weight of expectation. Betoro Kolo rally in desperation, unleashing their final chorus of loyalty, but their voices ring hollow, brittle echoes of past fervour. The feeds, stripped of colour, reveal the emptiness at their core: a relic invoked but never revealed, a promise perpetually deferred. Netizens, emboldened, craft parables of betrayal, memes of vanished proof, stories of faith squandered.

Petruk, trembling beneath the mask, clings to spectacle, but the theatre demands truth, not noise. Betoro Kolo falter, their loyalty fractured, their chorus dissolving into silence.

The puppeteer, with solemn clarity, declares that the play has reached its reckoning: spectacle without substance collapses beneath its own weight. And so the Reckoning arrives, a moment of truth deferred too long, exposing the void at the heart of Petruk’s claim.

When the spectacle collapses, and the reckoning fades, only silence remains, a silence heavier than all the slogans combined. Petruk, once radiant in his crooked grin, stands alone upon the empty stage, the manuscript still unseen, the promise unfulfilled. Betoro Kolo, their voices spent, dissolved into shadows of code, relics of a theatre that mistook noise for truth. Netizens, wiser for the chaos, carry with them the lesson that spectacle without substance is but a hollow flame.

The puppeteer, closing the curtain, whispers that every play must end, and that truth, though delayed, always outlasts noise.

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Buzzer Politics in Indonesia (2)

The case of buzzers spreading false accusations of blasphemy against former Vice President Jusuf Kalla illustrates just how pernicious and destructive digital disinformation can be when religion is instrumentalised for political purposes. The cruelty lies not only in the personal defamation of a respected statesman but also in the way such fabricated narratives exploit religious sensitivities to inflame public anger. Because blasphemy is an issue that touches deeply held beliefs, false claims of this nature are particularly potent in mobilising outrage, and buzzers deliberately weaponise that emotional resonance to destabilise political opponents or delegitimise figures who are otherwise seen as moderate and conciliatory.

The impact of these campaigns is twofold. On the one hand, they corrode trust in democratic institutions by making citizens doubt the integrity of leaders and the fairness of political competition. On the other, they fracture social cohesion by sowing suspicion and hostility among communities, turning religion into a divisive rather than unifying force. Scholars such as Marcus Mietzner have shown that the use of buzzers in Indonesia has normalised toxic practices in political communication, while Fossati and Kawamura highlight how digital disinformation—often infused with religious rhetoric—functions as an “authoritarian innovation” that undermines pluralism. In this context, the false accusations against Jusuf Kalla are emblematic of a broader trend: the deliberate manipulation of religious sentiment through digital channels to achieve short‑term political gains at the expense of long‑term democratic health.

The cruelty, therefore, is not only in the personal harm inflicted on Jusuf Kalla’s reputation but also in the collective damage done to Indonesia’s democratic fabric. By exploiting religion in this way, buzzers erode both the moral integrity of politics and the trust that citizens place in democratic processes.

4.2 The 2017 Jakarta Gubernatorial Election and SARA-Based Polarisation

The 2017 Jakarta Pilkada stands as one of the most dramatic episodes in the history of buzzer deployment in Indonesia. The contest between Basuki Tjahaja Purnama (Ahok) and Anies Baswedan was marked by the mass dissemination of content laden with SARA (ethnicity, religion, race, and inter-group relations) sensitivities across social media, with the suspected involvement of organised buzzer networks.

Research by Mietzner (2020), in Populist Azariah: Jokowi's Long Decade in Power and the Threat to Democracy and related articles, analyses how the blasphemy allegations brought against Ahok were artificially amplified by digital networks exploiting religious sentiment as a political weapon. Mietzner argues that this was not spontaneous organic mobilisation, but a structured and premeditated operation.

These findings are corroborated by Fossati and Kawamura (2020), in their article Islam, Partisan Identity and Electoral Behaviour in Indonesia, which demonstrates how religious narratives were instrumentalised through digital channels—including buzzers and messaging applications such as WhatsApp—to influence electoral choices. This process not only shaped the outcome of the Pilkada but left deep and lasting scars upon the social fabric of Jakarta and, more broadly, of Indonesian society.

4.3 Buzzers in the 2019 General Election: Scalability and Institutionalisation

If the 2017 Pilkada represented a large-scale experimental deployment, the 2019 simultaneous general elections (Presidential and Legislative) constituted the arena in which the use of buzzers became institutionalised. The contest between Joko Widodo and Prabowo Subianto was accompanied by massive and organised cyber operations from both camps.

A study by DW Akademie (2020), Media Use and Information Literacy in Indonesia, found that more than 60 per cent of respondents across various Indonesian cities reported having received information that subsequently proved to be false, the great majority of it via WhatsApp and Facebook—the two platforms that served as the primary theatre of buzzer activity.

Research by Juditha (2020), published in the journal Pekommas, analysed patterns of disinformation dissemination during the 2019 elections and identified patterns consistent with coordinated buzzer activity: high posting volumes within short timeframes, coordinated hashtag usage, and inorganic interaction patterns. These findings accord with the detection methodology developed by Ferrara et al. (2016) in their influential paper, The Rise of Social Bots published in Communications of the ACM.

 

4.4 Industrial Context: The Buzzer Ecosystem in Indonesia

One of the most alarming aspects of the buzzer phenomenon in Indonesia is the degree to which it has become institutionalised. Drone Emprit, the social media analytics platform founded by Ismail Fahmi, has extensively documented how buzzer operations in Indonesia function as a structured industry. Fahmi (2019), in various Drone Emprit reports, demonstrates the existence of networks of accounts operating in a coordinated fashion, exhibiting behaviour indicative of centralised management.

Drone Emprit's findings are corroborated by the Oxford Internet Institute. Bradshaw, Neudert, and Howard (2019), in Government Troops and Political Operatives, classify Indonesia as one of the countries with a high level of computational influence operation capacity, with the active involvement of both state and private actors.

The buzzer industry in Indonesia does not operate in a vacuum. It is connected to an ecosystem of digital consultants, opinion research firms, and even mainstream PR agencies offering 'digital reputation management' services as a euphemism for buzzword operations. This indicates that the problem in Indonesia is not merely one of rogue individuals, but of the institutionalisation of opinion manipulation as a practice deeply embedded within the political communications industry.

 

4.5 Buzzer Attacks on Press Freedom and Critical Voices

One of the most dangerous manifestations of the buzzer phenomenon in Indonesia is its deployment against journalists, activists, and academics. The Koalisi Lawan Buzzer (Anti-Buzzer Coalition), formed by various civil society organisations, has documented hundreds of cases in which individuals were subjected to coordinated attacks on social media following the publication of critical reporting or commentary directed at those in power.

Reporters Without Borders ranked Indonesia 108th out of 180 countries in its 2022 World Press Freedom Index, citing organised digital intimidation as one of the primary contributing factors. Research by Wahyudi (2021), in his doctoral thesis at the University of Melbourne, analyses how buzzer attacks against investigative journalists in Indonesia produce a demonstrable chilling effect: editorial boards engage in self-censorship, sources become reluctant to speak on record, and journalists contemplate abandoning the profession.

The most egregious cases include coordinated attacks against journalists covering corruption at the Corruption Eradication Commission (KPK) and in independent media, environmental activists opposing large infrastructure projects, and minority religious figures advocating for peace amidst sectarian polarisation. The consistent patterns observed across these cases—coordinated hashtag campaigns, rapid amplification, and suspicious account profiles—point unmistakably to planned buzzer operations.

4.6 Regulation and Law Enforcement: A Troubling Lacuna

Indonesia possesses several legal instruments that could, in principle, be deployed to address buzzer activity, including the Electronic Information and Transactions Law (UU ITE, Law No. 11 of 2008, as amended) and various regulations concerning the dissemination of hoaxes. However, Sukma Ridwan (2020), in his analysis published in Jurnal Hukum dan Peradilan, finds that the implementation of these instruments has been profoundly selective: they have been used far more frequently to criminalise criticism of the government than to prosecute buzzers who disseminate pro-establishment disinformation.

This paradox reflects precisely what Levitsky and Ziblatt (2018), in their seminal work How Democracies Die, identify as a hallmark of contemporary democratic backsliding: the employment of legitimate legal instruments for anti-democratic ends. When the UU ITE is more commonly wielded to silence dissent than to protect the public information sphere, buzzer activity goes increasingly unchecked, deprived of any meaningful legal disincentive.

V. ETHICAL DIMENSIONS AND IMPLICATIONS FOR DEMOCRACY

 

5.1 Buzzers as a Violation of Public Epistemic Autonomy

From a philosophical standpoint, the deployment of buzzers constitutes a violation of the epistemic autonomy of the public—the right of individuals to form beliefs and preferences based on unmanipulated information. Christiano (2008), in The Constitution of Equality: Democratic Authority and Its Limits, argues that democratic legitimacy is contingent upon the capacity of citizens to participate in genuine public deliberation. Buzzers, by manipulating the informational landscape, systematically undermine the prerequisite conditions for such legitimacy.

Habermas (1984), in the theory of communicative action and the conception of the public sphere elaborated in The Theory of Communicative Action and The Structural Transformation of the Public Sphere, stipulates that legitimate deliberation must be free from strategic domination and manipulation. Buzzers are the antithesis of this ideal: they introduce a strategic logic (the achievement of ends through manipulation) into a sphere that ought to be governed by communicative rationality (the achievement of consensus through honest argumentation).

 

5.2 Systemic Implications for the Quality of Democracy

Diamond (2015), in his influential article in the Journal of Democracy, warned of a global 'democratic recession' in which various democracies experience an erosion of quality even whilst formally retaining electoral procedures. The buzzer phenomenon is precisely one of the mechanisms of such erosion: it enables democracy to appear normal at the surface—elections are held, speech ostensibly remains free—whilst the quality of public deliberation that constitutes the core of substantive democracy has been gravely compromised.

Levitsky and Ziblatt (2018), in How Democracies Die identify attacks upon independent media and the manipulation of public information as two of the four principal indicators of democratic backsliding. In the Indonesian context, both indicators are present in the buzzer phenomenon: buzzers erode the credibility of independent journalism by disseminating unfounded allegations of bias, and they actively manipulate public information through organised disinformation campaigns.

VI. CONCLUSION: SAFEGUARDING DEMOCRACY IN THE INFORMATION AGE

The foregoing analysis demonstrates that political buzzers are not merely an irritant in the communicative landscape—they are a systemic threat to the very foundations of democracy. From a global perspective, buzzers corrupt the public information ecology, intensify polarisation, endanger electoral integrity, and silence critical voices. In the specific context of Indonesia, the phenomenon has reached a degree of institutionalisation that is deeply troubling, with roots embedded in the broader structures of political-business oligarchy.

Addressing the buzzer threat effectively requires a multi-layered approach engaging a range of stakeholders. First, the regulation of digital platforms must be substantially strengthened, so that technology companies are held accountable for manipulation that occurs on their platforms, following the model currently being developed by the European Union through the Digital Services Act. Second, transparency in political advertising and influence operations must be mandated, enabling the public to identify when the narratives they consume are the product of manufactured campaigns.

Third, substantial investment in digital and media literacy education is required at every level of schooling. This responsibility cannot be delegated to markets or platforms alone—it is a duty of the state and of civil society. Fourth, the legal protection of journalists, activists, and critical voices from buzzer attacks must be consistently enforced, supported by a clear and impartially applied legal framework.

Finally, following the argument of Cohen (2019) in Democracy and Other Neoliberal Fantasies: Communicative Capitalism & Left Politics, we must acknowledge that the problem of buzzers cannot be disentangled from deeper questions concerning the political economy of digital media, the distribution of power within society, and the collective commitment to democratic values. To resist buzzers is, in the end, to participate in a broader and more fundamental struggle to defend and deepen democracy itself.

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