Thursday, July 31, 2025

The Indonesia Paradox (5)

The issue of dormant bank accounts in Indonesia has stirred public unease primarily due to the sudden implementation of new banking regulations without clear communication or sufficient public education. Many Indonesians, especially those in rural areas or with limited digital literacy, were caught off guard when their savings accounts were labelled as inactive and subsequently became inaccessible. This has led to fears that their hard-earned money could be taken or frozen without their consent. Adding to the anxiety is the perception that banks and regulators are prioritising financial compliance over people’s financial security and trust. Critics argue that rather than targeting illicit funds, these rules are disproportionately affecting low-income individuals who use their accounts infrequently but legitimately. The growing sentiment is that ordinary citizens are being penalised for behaviours they were never warned about, all while the elite continue to move billions with impunity.
The regulation surrounding inactive or dormant bank accounts in Indonesia is primarily governed by Bank Indonesia and the Financial Services Authority (OJK). An account is typically classified as dormant if there has been no customer-initiated transaction—such as withdrawals, deposits, or transfers—for a certain period, often 6 to 12 months, depending on the bank’s policy. Once declared dormant, the account may be subject to restrictions, such as limited access to funds, dormant fees, or eventual closure. While the rule is meant to enhance banking efficiency and prevent misuse of idle accounts, the implementation has raised eyebrows. Critics argue that customers are not being properly informed about the thresholds or consequences, and many only discover their account's dormant status when they can no longer access their funds. This lack of transparency, combined with a bureaucratic process to reactivate accounts, has left many feeling excluded from the financial system they once trusted.
According to the current regulatory framework, the Financial Transaction Reports and Analysis Centre (PPATK), in coordination with OJK guidelines, considers a bank account to be dormant if it remains inactive—meaning absolutely no customer‑initiated transactions—over three consecutive months. In such cases, PPATK is authorised to temporarily freeze the account to prevent potential misuse, such as money laundering or illicit account trading. While individual banks may have internal policies extending this period up to six or even twelve months, the standard minimum inactivity threshold that triggers a freeze is three months.
The OJK has issued guidance urging banks to regularly review and monitor dormant accounts, helping to mitigate financial crime risks while maintaining account holders’ rights. In practice, if an account shows zero activity—no transfers, withdrawals, deposits from the customer—for three consecutive months, PPATK may initiate a freeze even though the account remains registered as active in the system. 
Although some banks label the dormant status at six months or more of inactivity, this is an internal policy—not a legal minimum—and the action from PPATK begins at the three‑month mark.

Public complaints about the dormant account policy in Indonesia are growing louder, with many feeling blindsided by the sudden enforcement of the rule. One of the most common grievances is the lack of prior notification. Account holders claim they were never informed that their savings could be frozen after three months of inactivity, and only discovered it when they tried to access their funds and failed. Many see this as a violation of their rights, especially for people who live in rural areas, elderly customers, or those who save money for emergencies and rarely use their accounts. There's also widespread frustration over the bureaucratic hurdles involved in reactivating frozen accounts, which often requires in-person visits, stacks of documents, and long waiting times. Worse, the policy has sparked fear that citizens’ financial autonomy is being quietly undermined, especially since the authorities seem more focused on control and compliance than on building trust or financial inclusion. Critics argue that such a policy punishes frugality and low-income behaviour while letting larger suspicious transactions continue untouched.
If public complaints about the dormant account policy are ignored, the long-term consequences could be deeply damaging to both the banking sector and social trust in financial institutions. When people feel that their money is no longer safe or accessible, especially without proper warning, they may begin to withdraw their funds entirely or avoid formal banking systems altogether. This would lead to a rise in cash hoarding, informal savings groups, or even underground financial practices, all of which make the economy more vulnerable and harder to regulate. Trust, once broken, is not easily restored—particularly among vulnerable groups like rural residents, the elderly, and low-income earners. Furthermore, ignoring these concerns may amplify the perception that the state prioritises surveillance and control over public welfare. In the long run, this could spark financial disobedience, widen inequality, and deepen the already fragile gap between the elite and the rest of the population. Worse still, such dissatisfaction could turn into political discontent, especially in a society where economic frustrations easily transform into social movements.

Critics argue that the OJK’s dormant account policy, though legally grounded, is poorly timed and socially insensitive, especially in the midst of economic hardship affecting millions of Indonesians. Implementing such a rigid measure when people are struggling to survive, save small amounts, or rebuild from post-pandemic setbacks is seen as lacking empathy and economic realism. Many question why the focus is on policing small, inactive accounts rather than tightening controls on large suspicious transactions that often escape scrutiny. Some financial observers describe the policy as tone-deaf, warning that it could backfire by pushing vulnerable citizens out of the formal banking system altogether. They argue that in a time of rising inflation, job insecurity, and shrinking purchasing power, what people need most is flexibility, encouragement to save, and protection of their assets—not fear of losing access to their own money. Critics from civil society have called for a moratorium on the enforcement of such rules until better public education, transparent notification systems, and clearer dispute resolution mechanisms are in place. Otherwise, the policy risks becoming a symbol of institutional arrogance in the face of public suffering.

Now, back to the book "Strategi Transformasi Bangsa: Menuju Indonesia Emas 2045".  In his reflection on the strategic challenges facing Indonesia, Prabowo Subianto underscores that the nation's greatest threat is not merely external military confrontation or foreign intervention, but rather the internal weakness of its own institutions, national cohesion, and economic foundations. He argues that the country’s most pressing vulnerability lies in systemic inefficiency, corruption, and inequality—factors that prevent it from unlocking its full potential.
He is especially concerned about demographic imbalance, where a young and growing population is not matched with adequate job creation or access to proper education and nutrition. This creates what he calls a “generational time bomb,” a massive segment of the population whose frustration could one day threaten social stability if left unaddressed.
Another strategic concern raised by Prabowo is economic sovereignty. He believes that for too long, Indonesia has relied on exporting raw materials, thereby enriching other nations while limiting value creation at home. Without building a national industrial base and improving human capital, he warns that Indonesia will remain stuck in a cycle of dependency.
Furthermore, Prabowo identifies technological backwardness and food insecurity as core issues. He highlights how food import dependency puts the country at strategic risk, especially during global disruptions. To counter this, he calls for a national push towards food self-sufficiency and technological mastery through investment in research and education.
Finally, he emphasises the importance of national unity as a non-negotiable pillar. He believes that identity politics, separatism, and elite fragmentation weaken the moral and intellectual backbone of the Republic. Therefore, he urges for a renewed focus on national consciousness, historical awareness, and leadership that is both competent and ethical.

Prabowo Subianto’s concept of “Strategi Indonesia Maju” is a multidimensional roadmap that seeks to elevate Indonesia into a sovereign, advanced, and prosperous nation by 2045, precisely at the centennial of its independence. He outlines this national transformation strategy in terms of key foundations, institutional reforms, and moral principles.
At its core, Prabowo’s vision emphasises three strategic imperatives: first, establishing a people-centred economy, where state intervention ensures fair distribution of wealth and economic opportunities; second, reinforcing a democratic system genuinely rooted in the people’s will, rather than being captured by elite interests or financial oligarchs; and third, ensuring national resilience, particularly in food, energy, health, and defence.
A cornerstone of the strategy is investment in human capital, particularly through education reform, technological development, and mastery of innovation. Prabowo insists that only by nurturing smart, ethical, and patriotic citizens can Indonesia compete on the global stage.
He also envisions a green and resilient economy that embraces sustainability without compromising on industrialisation. This includes transforming Indonesia into a self-sufficient and exporting powerhouse for high-value products, not merely raw resources.
Institutionally, Prabowo advocates for bureaucratic transformation and a meritocratic leadership structure, where the best talents are placed in strategic positions. He strongly condemns patronage and transactional politics, calling for a national culture of accountability and service.
Lastly, he embeds the strategy within a moral and historical narrative, reminding readers that this transformation must be built upon the dreams of the founding fathers—anchored in justice, equality, and national dignity. To him, Strategi Indonesia Maju is not just a plan but a collective vow to realise the unfulfilled promises of independence.

As Indonesia steps into the second half of 2025, Prabowo Subianto’s “Strategi Indonesia Maju” encounters both opportunity and friction in practice. The vision of a people-centred economy finds resonance in the government’s recent moves to expand agricultural subsidies and build food estates. Yet, critics argue that these programmes often favour corporate actors over small farmers, revealing a dissonance between policy ideals and grassroots realities.
On democratic reform, Prabowo’s call for a people-driven political system faces headwinds, particularly with growing concerns over the dominance of oligarchic influence in media, political parties, and public discourse. His vision of cleaning transactional politics seems at odds with several appointments in his own cabinet, which include recycled figures from previous regimes, sparking debate over meritocracy versus loyalty.
Human capital development — another pillar of the strategy — is tested by the state’s uneven investment in education and research. While flagship scholarships and vocational initiatives have been introduced, inequality remains stark, especially in rural and eastern provinces. Without massive reform, the demographic dividend may still become a liability rather than an advantage.
Environmental and economic resilience, two core themes of “Strategi Indonesia Maju,” are being tested by extreme weather events and global economic volatility. Indonesia’s push for industrial downstreaming, especially in nickel and EV battery sectors, is a step forward, but concerns about environmental degradation and local displacement persist.
Overall, 2025 reflects the tension between ambition and execution. Prabowo’s strategy is lofty and patriotic, but its realisation demands robust political will, administrative integrity, and systemic courage — qualities that are still inconsistently present in the machinery of government. Without addressing these contradictions, the path to Indonesia Emas may remain a beautiful but distant dream.

Prabowo’s “Acceleration Strategy for Development” is a call for Indonesia to break free from decades of incremental progress and embrace bold, focused, and time-bound action to reach the national goals outlined for 2045. He frames this acceleration as an urgent national mission — one that must override political hesitation and bureaucratic inertia.
He starts by underscoring the need to streamline government machinery, reducing overlapping agencies and expediting decision-making. He proposes the use of special task forces, executive command units, and presidential intervention mechanisms to cut through red tape, especially for strategic sectors like food, energy, and defence.
Second, Prabowo highlights the importance of massive investment in infrastructure, particularly in transportation, digital connectivity, and logistics. He views this as the backbone of equitable development and economic efficiency. In his view, development must not remain Java-centric but instead reach outer islands to close regional gaps.
The strategy also calls for extraordinary fiscal courage, where the state must not shy away from increasing public investment, even if it means taking calculated debt — as long as it yields productive returns and boosts national resilience. He believes that “tight-fisted budgeting” in times of national need reflects poor governance, not prudence.
Another acceleration element is the mobilisation of national potential, particularly human capital. Prabowo insists on a war-like mentality: mass training for youth, scholarships with patriotic values, and the creation of new elite corps in education, health, and technology. He also underscores the need to protect natural resources from exploitation by foreign interests.
Throughout this acceleration roadmap, Prabowo repeats a key message: time is not on our side. Without bold disruption, he argues, Indonesia risks missing the “demographic window” and squandering the momentum needed to become a major global power by 2045. In short, this strategy is not just about moving faster — it’s about transforming the mindset and metabolism of the nation.

As 2025 unfolds, Prabowo’s acceleration blueprint for development finds itself at a critical crossroads between aspiration and reality. While his administration has pledged to cut red tape and streamline bureaucratic procedures, critics point to persistent inefficiencies and turf wars among ministries. The promise of “executive command” mechanisms often stalls amid legal ambiguity and political resistance, especially when old patronage networks are left untouched.
Infrastructure development remains the government’s flagship effort, with large-scale projects in Kalimantan, Papua, and Sumatra receiving headline attention. However, delays, cost overruns, and community resistance have plagued many initiatives. Although the “Java-centric” narrative is being challenged, the true decentralisation of benefits remains sluggish.
The fiscal boldness Prabowo calls for has seen limited application. While some stimulus packages and defence procurements have been greenlit, his administration still faces criticism for being too cautious — particularly in areas like healthcare reform, rural education, and digital expansion. Many question whether fear of debt or lack of strategic direction is holding back transformative investment.
Human capital mobilisation — a key element of his acceleration vision — is also hampered by fragmented education policy and underfunded technical training. While scholarships and youth programmes have been launched, they remain scattered and lack ideological coherence or patriotic grounding, as envisioned in the book.
Above all, the “urgency mindset” that Prabowo demands — a wartime pace for peacetime development — is yet to take root across the state apparatus. Without stronger executive assertiveness, bolder institutional reforms, and a clear break from transactional politics, the spirit of acceleration risks being trapped in the language of vision documents and never truly materialising on the ground.

In 2025, Indonesia faces a triple challenge that puts Prabowo Subianto’s acceleration strategy to the test: a looming energy crunch, escalating social unrest, and growing scrutiny over foreign debt.
The energy crisis, triggered by global oil price volatility and delayed investment in renewable infrastructure, has exposed the fragility of Indonesia’s energy security. While Prabowo’s plan emphasised food and energy self-sufficiency, critics argue that implementation has lagged behind rhetoric. The nation’s dependence on coal and imported fuel continues, and efforts to accelerate solar, hydro, and nuclear alternatives have been mired in bureaucratic delays and investor hesitancy. Without bold structural reforms and faster execution, the energy sector risks becoming a bottleneck to industrial growth.
Meanwhile, social tensions are on the rise. Rising inequality, slow rural development, and unpopular land acquisitions have sparked protests, particularly in regions like South Sumatra, West Kalimantan, and parts of Papua. Prabowo’s vision of patriotic youth mobilisation faces scepticism when local communities feel ignored or displaced. Without inclusive dialogue and participatory development, acceleration can be perceived as top-down imposition rather than national awakening.
On the foreign debt front, the government’s balancing act is growing more difficult. Prabowo supports using strategic debt to finance national priorities, but in 2025, debt servicing consumes a larger chunk of the national budget. Critics warn that without transparent fiscal governance and clear return-on-investment metrics, the country risks falling into a debt trap — especially when large infrastructure projects are tied to foreign contractors or opaque bilateral deals.
Thus, while the blueprint for acceleration remains compelling on paper, the challenges of 2025 demand more than slogans. They require coherent governance, real-time responsiveness, and bold political will to harmonise vision with the urgency of reality.

Prabowo’s vision for an accelerated Indonesia cannot be separated from three critical domains in 2025: digitalisation, food transformation, and military resilience — each of which reflects both ambition and adversity.
In the realm of digitalisation, Prabowo imagines a leapfrogging nation — one that skips old models and directly embraces Industry 4.0, AI, and cloud infrastructure. Yet, the 2025 reality paints a more uneven landscape. Urban centres flourish with start-up hubs and fintech ecosystems, but vast swaths of eastern Indonesia still suffer from poor connectivity and digital illiteracy. Efforts to integrate AI into public services are hindered by a lack of skilled personnel and a cyber-security framework that remains embryonic. While smart governance is the end goal, many critics argue that the current digital push remains elite-driven, leaving behind rural communities and small-scale entrepreneurs.
When it comes to food transformation, Prabowo promotes a strategy of sovereignty — ending dependence on imported staples and restoring the role of farmers. However, the 2025 picture is fraught with climate disruption, land conversion, and weak agricultural logistics. While urban hydroponic farms and tech-based agriculture are emerging, traditional farmers are still vulnerable to middlemen and market shocks. Without serious reform in food storage, irrigation, and cooperative financing, food sovereignty remains an elusive dream rather than a measurable target.
Finally, military resilience — long a cornerstone of Prabowo’s worldview — is being revisited in light of rising regional tensions and non-traditional threats. The defence budget has seen a moderate increase, but critics say this has not translated into strategic autonomy. Procurement remains overly dependent on foreign platforms, and defence industries are yet to develop robust local supply chains. While Prabowo champions “total people’s defence,” civil-military integration lags behind, and youth mobilisation programmes have yet to evolve into national preparedness ecosystems.
In essence, these three pillars — digital, food, and defence — are the arteries through which Prabowo hopes to pump the lifeblood of a self-reliant nation. But as of mid-2025, the pulse is still irregular — visionary, but not yet systemic; initiated, but far from institutionalised.

According to Prabowo Subianto, the foremost condition for Indonesia to achieve its Golden Vision in 2045 lies not only in policies or infrastructure, but in the presence of strong national leadership—leadership that is willing to uphold economic justice, empower the people, and break away from the clutches of inequality and elite domination. He stresses that without courage and political will to implement reforms holistically and assertively, the dream of becoming a sovereign, fair, and prosperous nation will remain just that — a dream.
He places great emphasis on moral clarity, nationalist orientation, and a focus on the welfare of ordinary citizens, especially the poor, the farmers, the labourers, and the youth. For Prabowo, economic transformation is not just about growth statistics; it is a moral mission to ensure that Indonesia’s wealth serves its people.

Several flagship initiatives introduced during 2025 clearly embody Prabowo’s fundamental requirement—a leadership willing to pursue economic justice and social upliftment for the people. A prime example is the Free Nutritious Meal Program (MBG), spearheaded by the National Nutrition Agency, which began distributing daily meals to school children, pregnant and lactating women. The programme targets nearly 82.9 million participants and is projected to generate 2.5 million local jobs, allocating budget to local cooperatives and small farmers. Despite concerns over fiscal sustainability, critics from nutrition experts and human rights advocates praised it as a standout pro‑people policy.
Another pivotal initiative was Prabowo’s pro‑poor housing directive, launched via a high‑level cabinet meeting in early January 2025. Since then, around 40,000 affordable units have been built for low‑income communities. These units are financed through tax waivers—zero percent VAT, BPHTB, and income tax—and expedited permitting, cutting approval times from weeks to as little as four hours.
Supportive observers also pointed to the creation of the Acceleration of Poverty Reduction Agency (BP2K) in late 2024, which was elevated from a policy think tank to a high‑level cabinet agency. Led by Budiman Sudjatmiko, its mandate is aggressively aligned with eradicating poverty via coordination and oversight across ministries.
Furthermore, the July 2025 liquidity injection into four state-owned banks to offer low‑interest loans (6%) to over 80,000 village cooperatives was seen as tactical support for Prabowo’s rural economy and cooperative‑based empowerment strategy.
Collectively, these programs and institutional reforms reflect Prabowo’s leadership ethos: bold, pro‑rakyat, and morally anchored. They exemplify how governance focused on ordinary citizens—especially those in vulnerable or informal sectors—can translate policy ambition into tangible impact, meeting the very condition he defines as essential for reaching Indonesia’s Golden Era.

Despite widespread criticism, multiple independent observers and experts have acknowledged several accomplishments under President Prabowo Subianto’s administration up to July 2025. Most prominently, the Free Nutritious Meal Programme (MBG) has been praised for both its scale and ambition. Initiated in January, the pilot reached hundreds of thousands of beneficiaries and was described by international media as one of the most expansive school nutrition initiatives globally, targeting over 82 million people with a multibillion-dollar budget.
Economists and business analysts have also commended Indonesia’s success in meeting its national investment targets months ahead of schedule, signalling strong capital inflow and investor confidence, as publicly stated in July by the presidential cabinet.
In economic performance more broadly, Prabowo’s administration has maintained one of the lowest inflation rates in the world, earning recognition domestically and abroad during the first half of 2025. Observers credit this to prudent monetary management and coordination with global financial institutions.
Additionally, the administration’s consumer price stability during peak festivals—especially food prices during Ramadan and Eid—won plaudits for helping control cost-of-living pressures. The smoothest homecoming season in history, with a record low in traffic accidents, also drew praise as evidence of improved coordination and public safety efforts.
Internationally, Prabowo has been lauded for strengthening trade diplomacy, securing preferential tariff terms with the European Union and lowering export duties to the United States. 
Lastly, critics acknowledged progress in modernising healthcare infrastructure, particularly with the inauguration of Sanur Health SEZ and Bali International Hospital, positioning Indonesia to become a regional medical hub and raising service standards to global levels.

In Strategi Transformasi Bangsa: Menuju Indonesia Emas 2045, Prabowo Subianto lays out not only a political vision but also a moral framework for Indonesia’s future. He challenges the nation to rise above mediocrity and dependency, proposing a path shaped by justice, national dignity, and economic resilience. The book positions leadership not as mere governance, but as a duty to restore sovereignty to the people, where the state serves its citizens—not the other way around. With strong emphasis on food security, democratic renewal, and national unity, Prabowo presents transformation not as an abstract promise, but as an achievable mission if Indonesia dares to lead itself.
As the country navigates through the social, economic, and geopolitical uncertainties of 2025, Prabowo’s ideas gain renewed relevance. Whether one agrees with his approach or not, the book serves as a provocation—an invitation to imagine an Indonesia that is strong, fair, and sovereign. It is both a roadmap and a challenge. The real question now lies in execution: Can these ideals be translated into consistent, inclusive policy—free from elite capture, technocratic insulation, or political tokenism? The next few years will determine whether the path to 2045 will be paved with real reform, or just rhetorical ambition.

[Part 4]