Saturday, July 26, 2025

The Indonesia Paradox (2)

Many shopping malls across Indonesia have been experiencing a notable decline in foot traffic and retail activity as of July 2025. Despite some seasonal surges—such as during the Eid holidays—these short-lived increases have not been sufficient to offset the overall downward trend. The root of this situation lies in the weakening purchasing power of the middle class, who now tend to frequent malls more for leisure and socialising rather than for actual shopping.

Shopping centres once bustling with activity are now witnessing empty corridors, shuttered tenants, and declining sales. Malls that target the lower and middle segments of society have suffered the most, with occupancy rates dipping below 50% in some areas. In contrast, high-end malls with modern concepts, strategic locations, and trendy tenants have managed to stay afloat, primarily because they offer more than just retail—they provide entertainment, Instagrammable spots, and dining experiences that attract the youth.

In South Jakarta, despite Jakarta’s overall retail occupancy hovering around 73–77 percent in early 2025, secondary or mid‑lower tier malls continue to struggle. According to a Colliers report via Real Estate Asia, malls in Greater Jakarta saw only modest quarter‑on‑quarter gains, with occupancy just over 70 percent in Q1 2025. Prime malls in central areas maintain high occupancy—often above 86–88 percent—while lower‑grade suburban centres remain in the 62–71 percent range. In South Jakarta neighbourhoods, many middle‑class malls have faced declining visitors and closures due to high competition, rising online shopping, and a mismatch between tenant mix and local consumer lifestyles. While premium malls in central locations hold strong, numerous mid‑tier shopping centres in South Jakarta have experienced dwindling footfall and tenancy issues.

In BSD City, the market remains uniquely dense in shopping centres—some twelve malls serve its relatively small area of 60 km², meaning there is one mall for every 5 km². Major developments like AEON Mall underwent a significant tenant refresh in 2023, with 95 tenants renewed to keep the offering fresh and lifestyle‑oriented. A newcomer, Eastvara Mall, has embraced an open‑air lifestyle centre concept with cinema halls, fashion outlets, an Asian‑food zone, and green space, targeting young couples and families. In spite of the saturation, these upgrades and differentiated experiences help sustain foot traffic, particularly among captive local residents with disposable income.

Turning to Surabaya, Colliers and BPS data show a more resilient retail performance—occupancy was around 72.5 percent in H2 2024, with projections reaching 76 percent in 2025, rising at a steady 3 percent per annum through 2027. Demand remains strong for well‑located malls that host events, entertainment and F&B, and which maintain a modern tenant mix. Mall expansions (for instance, in Pakuwon City Mall Phase 3 and other centres) have added supply, but demand has kept pace. Among Surabaya’s icons, Pakuwon Mall remains consistently bustling, welcoming thousands of cars per day even during weekdays—often up to 9‑10 k cars, doubling on weekends—supported by its integration with hotels and residences. Other major destinations like Tunjungan Plaza, Galaxy Mall, Ciputra World, and Marvell City continue performing well thanks to their location, variety of tenants and continual upgrades.

This shift reflects broader economic anxieties. While people may still visit malls, their spending habits have changed dramatically. They are more cautious, opting for minimal purchases or simply window shopping. Furthermore, the convenience and variety offered by e-commerce platforms have drawn consumers away from physical stores. Mall operators, aware of this shift, have started rebranding their spaces into lifestyle destinations, but this transition takes time and capital—not all can afford it.

The rise of Rojali (“rombongan jarang beli” or “groups that rarely buy”) and Rohana (“rombongan hanya nanya” or “groups who only ask”) has become emblematic of Indonesia’s retail paradox: shopping malls that look crowded on the surface but are, in economic terms, eerily quiet. These phenomena, widely circulated through social media and everyday conversations, highlight a new pattern of mall visitors—people who come in groups not to spend, but to browse, socialise, or simply escape the heat. Rojali groups stroll through aisles, enjoying the air-conditioning and ambience without making purchases, while Rohana squads ask endless questions about products and promotions, only to politely walk away with no transaction.
Although amusing in name, these behaviours point to a deeper economic malaise. The seeming vibrancy of malls is deceptive; high foot traffic disguises the reality of sluggish sales, tenant frustration, and mounting financial strain. Small retailers are particularly vulnerable, facing overhead costs without the backing of consistent revenue. The combined effect of Rojali and Rohana activity creates a dangerous illusion of consumer confidence, even as spending shrinks. Malls are becoming stages for performative consumption—where looking the part matters more than buying the product. In this shifting landscape, retail businesses are compelled to innovate or perish, while mall operators scramble to convert passive visitors into paying customers.
Ultimately, the popularity of Rojali and Rohana reflects a society grappling with rising costs and shrinking disposable income. People still crave the mall experience—its aesthetics, social buzz, and aspirational aura—but the economics behind it are faltering. The result is a retail environment where noise fills the air, but the cash registers stay oddly silent.

The growing emptiness of shopping malls across Indonesia carries profound implications for the national economy. First and foremost, it signals a contraction in consumer spending—one of the key engines of Indonesia’s GDP. When people reduce their spending at brick-and-mortar stores, particularly in sectors like fashion, electronics, and lifestyle products, it not only affects retail revenues but also undermines employment, supply chains, and tax contributions.

Retail is a labour-intensive industry. As malls struggle to retain tenants and cut costs, they tend to reduce staff, suspend expansion, or even shut down entirely. This leads to rising unemployment, particularly among informal and part-time workers such as shop assistants, janitors, food court staff, and security personnel. For many of them, a job at the mall is a first step into the urban workforce. When that disappears, so does a critical entry point for upward mobility.

Moreover, the decline of mall activity weakens confidence in commercial real estate investment. Developers and landlords become more cautious about building new spaces or renewing leases, which affects the broader property sector. Banks and financial institutions, too, may grow hesitant to finance large retail projects, fearing poor returns in a sluggish market. This puts a damper on job creation, urban infrastructure, and regional development plans.

The most concerning implication, however, is psychological. A quiet mall represents more than just lost revenue—it reflects the anxieties of a middle class squeezed by rising living costs, debt, and stagnant wages. If the mall, once the symbol of aspiration and consumer joy, becomes a space of silence and shuttered windows, then something deeper is afoot: a societal shift in confidence, lifestyle, and economic optimism.

In short, while not all malls are deserted, the overall landscape paints a clear picture: Indonesia’s retail sector, particularly traditional malls, is struggling to adapt to changing consumer behaviours and an increasingly digital economy.

Now, back to our main topic. Having laid bare the critical contradictions that define the Indonesian condition in Paradoks Indonesia: Negara Kaya Raya, Tetapi Masih Banyak Rakyat Hidup Miskin, Prabowo Subianto does not stop at diagnosis alone. His next work, Paradoks Indonesia dan Solusinya, builds directly upon the foundation laid by the first book. It moves from exposing structural flaws and moral failures to proposing concrete solutions and strategic direction. This transition marks a shift from alarm to action—from identifying what is wrong to envisioning how to make it right. In continuing our exploration, we now turn to the question Prabowo leaves hanging at the end of the first book: what must be done to end the paradox and realise Indonesia’s true potential?

The updated version Paradoks Indonesia dan Solusinya, edited by Dirgayuza Setiawan, was issued in 2022 by PT Media Pandu Bangsa, Jakarta Selatan on 183 pages in colour format. In the foreword to Paradoks Indonesia dan Solusinya, Prabowo Subianto explains that this book was written as a continuation of his earlier work, driven by a deep concern for Indonesia’s future. He states that after identifying the contradictions plaguing the nation in his first book, he felt a moral responsibility to also offer tangible solutions. The book is intended to serve not just as a critique, but as a blueprint for action—aimed at correcting course and achieving a fair, independent, and prosperous Indonesia.

In the chapter Membangun Kesadaran Nasional (Building National Awareness), Prabowo Subianto stresses that Indonesia’s transformation will never begin with policies alone—it must start with the awakening of national consciousness. He argues that one of the most pressing problems Indonesia faces today is the erosion of collective identity and the weakening of national spirit. This is not merely a political or economic crisis, but a crisis of character and awareness.
Prabowo believes that many Indonesians have become disconnected from the nation's true struggles. Distracted by consumerism and fragmented by political divisions, the people have lost their sense of historical duty. In response, he calls for a revival of patriotism that is grounded not in empty slogans but in responsibility and love for the nation. For Prabowo, national awareness means realising that every citizen has a role in shaping Indonesia’s future, and that no amount of foreign aid or imported ideas can substitute for internal unity and pride.
He urges the younger generation, in particular, to educate themselves not only academically, but also historically and morally. They must know the sacrifices of those who came before, and they must be prepared to continue that struggle—not with violence, but with integrity, vision, and commitment. 

In the subchapter "Setelah 75 Tahun Lebih Merdeka, Kita Belum Sejahtera" (After More Than 75 Years of Independence, We Are Still Not Prosperous), Prabowo Subianto reflects on the state of Indonesia more than seven decades after gaining independence. He expresses deep concern that, despite the long passage of time and the immense natural and human resources at the nation's disposal, true prosperity remains elusive for the majority of Indonesians. According to him, this is not merely a matter of economics—it is a painful reminder of misaligned priorities and a lack of national direction.
He criticises the gap between the dreams of the founding fathers and the lived reality of millions of citizens today. For Prabowo, independence was not just about political sovereignty, but about securing economic dignity and social justice. That vision, he argues, has not yet materialised in full. He sees this as a call to action—to revisit the foundational promises of the Republic and to ensure that they are finally realised for every Indonesian.

In this foundational chapter, Fondasi Pembangunan # 1: Ekonomi Untuk Rakyat Indonesia! (Foundation of Development #1: Economy for the Indonesian People), Prabowo asserts that Indonesia must fundamentally redesign its economic priorities to serve the needs of its own people first and foremost. He stresses that an economy detached from the interests of the rakyat—ordinary Indonesians—will only deepen inequality and social tension. For him, a people-centred economy is not a slogan, but the cornerstone of real national development.
He critiques the past tendency to prioritise foreign investment and elite interests over domestic production and local empowerment. Prabowo believes that a just economic model must ensure food security, fair wages, and the protection of farmers, workers, and small businesses. He also advocates for a more active government role in regulating markets and correcting distortions caused by unchecked liberalism.
At its heart, this chapter is a declaration: Indonesia’s economy must belong to Indonesians. It must no longer be a tool for the enrichment of a few, but a collective engine for national strength and dignity. Economic independence, for Prabowo, is as crucial as political independence, and both are inseparable in the pursuit of true sovereignty.

Prabowo Subianto delivers a sharp critique of Indonesia’s long-standing economic pattern where national wealth—especially in the form of natural resources and capital—flows out of the country, enriching foreign entities while leaving Indonesians behind. He describes this outflow as a silent robbery, facilitated by weak policies, unfair contracts, and a lack of assertiveness from national leadership.
For Prabowo, this is not a natural phenomenon—it is the result of systemic neglect and dependence on foreign investment without adequate safeguards. He asserts that Indonesia must reclaim control over its economic assets, particularly through renegotiating exploitative agreements and strengthening state capacity to manage strategic sectors. The goal is not to close Indonesia off from the world, but to ensure that the nation benefits fairly from its own riches.
He argues that the flow of wealth outward is one of the core reasons Indonesia remains trapped in underdevelopment, despite its enormous resources. To stop this hemorrhaging, Prabowo proposes a strong state, a patriotic economic elite, and a new national spirit that prioritises Indonesian prosperity above all.

Prabowo argues that although Indonesia gained its political independence over seven decades ago, the benefits of that independence are still concentrated in the hands of the top 1%. He laments that while the country boasts of democracy and freedom, the vast majority of its people remain economically marginalised and politically voiceless.
Prabowo sees this imbalance as a betrayal of the founding ideals of the Republic, which promised justice and prosperity for all. He highlights how wealth and opportunity have become increasingly centralised, creating a socio-economic divide that resembles colonial injustice—except now, the exploiters are domestic elites or foreign interests working through complicit local actors.
He calls for a return to the spirit of independence—not just ceremonial nationalism, but real economic liberation for the rakyat. Independence, he insists, must be felt in the kitchen, in the rice field, and in the paycheque—not just on paper or in speeches.

Prabowo argues that democracy must not become a hollow ritual, manipulated by elites for their own benefit. Instead, true democracy must serve the people—not merely in theory, but in actual political and economic participation. For him, Indonesian democracy has drifted away from its roots, where the people's voice was sacred and the state's duty was to serve the rakyat, not corporations or oligarchs.
He criticises the reality that many democratic processes in Indonesia are marred by money politics, manipulation, and voter disillusionment. Elections have become expensive contests where the highest bidder often wins, and the rakyat are reduced to passive spectators rather than active decision-makers. Prabowo calls for a reset—where democratic institutions are reclaimed, political education is strengthened, and governance truly reflects the will of the people.
In his view, democracy is not just about voting every five years. It must ensure justice, dignity, and real change in people’s lives. It must give the rakyat the power not just to choose, but to shape their future.

He argues that when parties are dependent on large donors, their loyalty shifts away from the rakyat and toward the capitalists funding them. Surveys, instead of being tools for honest reflection, become tools of persuasion. Voters are targeted not with education, but with manipulation. The media, rather than standing as the fourth estate, often serves as an extension of corporate power.
Prabowo sees this as a direct threat to national integrity and sovereignty. A democracy controlled by money is no longer a democracy—it becomes a marketplace of influence, where truth and justice are auctioned off to the highest bidder. He calls for reform: stricter rules on campaign financing, media independence, and a renewal of political ethics rooted in the interests of the rakyat, not the rich.

Prabowo Subianto delivers a sobering warning: Indonesia’s democracy is at risk of being hijacked by financial elites. He fears that the democratic process—meant to empower the people—has been infiltrated by moneyed interests who now exert influence over political parties, manipulate public surveys, and even shape media narratives to serve their agendas.
Prabowo Subianto's argument—that political parties can be bought, surveys manipulated, voters influenced, and media used as tools of the wealthy—is not merely rhetorical flourish. It finds resonance in many global and local realities where democracy has increasingly become commodified. The influence of money in politics has been widely studied and documented. In many countries, political parties rely heavily on private donors and corporate sponsorship, leading to policy capture, where laws are tailored to benefit funders rather than the public.
Surveys, once considered neutral instruments of public opinion, are frequently commissioned with specific outcomes in mind. Data can be selectively framed, questions can be biased, and timing can be manipulated to serve narratives rather than truth. Voters, too, are susceptible to emotional engineering through targeted campaigns, disinformation, and digital manipulation—a phenomenon exposed in scandals such as Cambridge Analytica.
The media landscape further reinforces this imbalance. In countries like Indonesia, media conglomerates are often owned by political or business elites, creating a conflict of interest that shapes editorial direction. News coverage can be skewed not based on facts, but on alliances and financial interests. Thus, Prabowo's warning is not cynical—it is a realistic diagnosis of a system where democratic institutions risk being auctioned off to the highest bidder.

One of the most striking examples that reinforces Prabowo Subianto’s concerns is the open secret of “dowries” for legislative candidacy in many Indonesian political parties. In numerous reported cases, individuals aspiring to become candidates in regional or national elections must pay substantial amounts of money to party leaders or local elites to secure their nomination. This practice, widely criticised by political observers, reflects how access to political platforms is often not based on merit or public service, but on financial muscle.
Moreover, survey manipulation has been a recurring issue. There have been documented allegations of “surveys by order” (survei pesanan) where results are skewed to build artificial momentum for a certain candidate. In the lead-up to several elections, certain polling institutions have shown suspiciously fluctuating numbers that align more with campaign strategies than actual public opinion.
As for the media, one need only observe how mainstream coverage tends to favour candidates who own or are affiliated with media conglomerates. For instance, media outlets owned by figures with political ambitions often give disproportionate airtime and positive framing to themselves or their allies—while critics or opposition figures are marginalised, misrepresented, or outright ignored.
These realities highlight Prabowo's main thesis: democracy can indeed be sold to the highest bidder when institutions fail to resist the pull of money and power.

Before we proceed with further discussion on Paradoks Indonesia dan Solusinya, it is essential to briefly turn our attention to the state of news media in Indonesia. Understanding the media landscape is crucial, especially when evaluating Prabowo Subianto’s concerns about democracy being vulnerable to manipulation. In a nation where ownership of media conglomerates often intersects with political and business interests, journalistic neutrality becomes increasingly difficult to maintain. By examining this reality, we can better grasp the systemic challenges that Prabowo describes—where public perception, political narratives, and even democratic processes are often shaped by those who control the airwaves.

[Part 3]
[Part 1]