The media plays a crucial role in a good democracy by acting as a bridge between the government and the people. It provides citizens with accurate, objective, and timely information about public affairs, policies, and political events, which is vital for informed decision-making and meaningful participation in democratic processes. Moreover, the media functions as a watchdog that monitors government actions, uncovering corruption, abuses of power, and misconduct, thereby promoting transparency and holding leaders accountable. It also offers a platform for public discussion and debate, allowing diverse voices and opinions to be heard and exchanged, which enriches democratic discourse. Additionally, by ensuring freedom of expression and supporting an independent press, the media sustains the democratic values of openness and inclusiveness. However, the media's role must be protected from political or economic control to maintain its independence and effectiveness in supporting democracy.On the 27th of September 2025, the Press, Media, and Information Bureau (BPMI) of the Presidential Secretariat revoked the press identification card belonging to CNN Indonesia journalist Diana Valencia. This revocation occurred after Diana posed a question to President Prabowo Subianto concerning the Free Nutritious Meal (MBG) programme, which the Palace deemed the reason for withdrawing her pass. The card was physically taken at CNN Indonesia’s office at 19:15 Western Indonesian Time.The decision to revoke the press card has attracted scrutiny from various parties, including the Press Council and the Indonesian Journalists Association (PWI). The Press Council considers this action a hindrance to press freedom and has called for Diana Valencia’s reporting access to be reinstated promptly so she can resume her journalistic duties at the Palace. Komaruddin Hidayat, Chair of the Press Council, requested the Palace Press Bureau to provide an explanation to avoid obstructing journalistic work and reminded all parties to respect press freedom as regulated by Law Number 40 of 1999 on the Press.State Secretary Prasetyo Hadi responded to the incident by stating that his office has instructed the Press Bureau to communicate and seek the best resolution regarding the revocation of the press identification card.In general, this case is seen as a significant issue concerning press freedom and the public’s right to information, with calls urging the Palace to provide an official clarification and open constructive dialogue with journalists to prevent future impediments to journalistic duties.If the revocation of the press ID was truly President Prabowo's will, it appears difficult to believe, judging by his demeanour during the interview. In that interview, he responded calmly and showed no sign of anger or distress. Public reaction, however, has leaned heavily towards criticism of the government's actions. Many see the revocation as an unacceptable encroachment on press freedom, especially given that the journalist's question was on a matter of significant public interest—the Free Nutritious Meal (MBG) program, which had recently been linked to food poisoning cases.The Indonesian Press Council, along with journalism organisations such as the Central Indonesian Journalists Association (PWI) and the Indonesian Television Journalists Association (IJTI), have sharply condemned the move. They emphasise that journalists have a legitimate duty to question public officials and that such questions should not be censored or punished. Public opinion largely agrees that the President himself answered the question in a measured way, indicating willingness to follow up on the issue, thus making the revocation of the press credential appear disproportionate.Furthermore, the Press Council advises that rather than restricting questions, protocols should be in place to manage journalists’ time constraints effectively without impeding their freedom or access. The controversy underscores broader concerns about government transparency and respect for the press in Indonesia, sparking calls for the restoration of the reporter's access and an official explanation for the revocation.Social media reactions to the revocation of the press card for the CNN Indonesia journalist have been overwhelmingly critical and vocal. Many netizens and journalists expressed their disapproval by using hashtags and comments that emphasise freedom of the press and the essential role of journalism in holding public officials accountable. The controversy has sparked debates on platforms like Twitter (X), where hashtags related to press freedom and government transparency have trended widely. The general mood conveys frustration and suspicion towards the government's motivation in revoking the journalist's credentials, especially since the journalist had asked a legitimate question about a government welfare program.Several journalist forums and editor groups publicly support the CNN Indonesia reporter and demand explanations from the Palace's Press Bureau regarding the revocation. These groups stress that suppressing journalistic questioning undermines democratic principles and the public's right to information.Additionally, public figures and media commentators have highlighted that President Prabowo's calm and measured response to the question contradicts any justification for punitive actions against the journalist. Many netizens argue that the move appears as a censorship attempt rather than a justified administrative procedure.Overall, the social media landscape reflects a strong pushback against perceived government overreach, with calls for the restoration of the journalist's access and for safeguarding press freedoms as a cornerstone of democracy.The incident involving the revocation of a press card at the Presidential Palace can be astutely linked to the deeper cultural phenomenon encapsulated by the phrase "Asal Bapak Senang." This expression, which translates roughly to "As long as the boss is pleased," reflects a pervasive attitude within Indonesian political and bureaucratic landscapes where subordinates prioritise pleasing their superiors above all else, often at the expense of transparency, truth, and accountability. In the case of the press card revocation, this cultural mindset appears to manifest in the suppression of journalistic inquiry that challenges authority, symbolising a preference for control and conformity rather than open and constructive engagement. Thus, this incident not only highlights issues of press freedom but also exemplifies how patron-client dynamics impact governance and public discourse in Indonesia.
The expression “asal bapak senang” is an Indonesian phrase that literally translates as “as long as the boss is happy.” It is often used to describe a culture of compliance in which subordinates are more concerned with pleasing their superior than with achieving genuine results. In practice, it reflects a situation where employees or officials present only good news, fabricate favourable reports, or manipulate appearances to avoid displeasing their leader, even when the reality is quite the opposite. This phrase has become a shorthand for the wider problem of sycophancy, where truth and accountability are sacrificed for the sake of maintaining the illusion of harmony in front of authority. Ultimately, “asal bapak senang” exposes the fragility of systems built on image rather than substance, and it serves as a critique of hierarchical environments where power is feared rather than respected.In both British and American English, the sentiment behind the Indonesian phrase “asal (kan) bapak senang” is widely understood, though the expressions used to convey it vary slightly depending on regional norms. In British English, one might simply say “just to please the boss,” a straightforward phrase often heard in office corridors when someone’s actions seem driven more by appeasement than genuine necessity. A more formal or subtly critical alternative would be “to curry favour with the boss,” which suggests a deliberate attempt to gain approval, possibly at the expense of integrity or independent judgment. For those opting for a more colloquial—and frankly, cheeky—tone, “brown-nosing” is the go-to term. It carries a pejorative edge, painting a picture of someone who’s overly eager to flatter or ingratiate themselves with authority.Across the pond, American English offers similar expressions. “Just to please the boss” remains a neutral staple, while “to suck up to the boss” leans heavily into informal territory, often used with a roll of the eyes or a knowing smirk. “Curry favour with the boss” is also recognised stateside, though it lacks the everyday punch of “suck up.” Ultimately, while both dialects share the same underlying meaning, their informal vocabulary diverges: “brown-nosing” rings more British, whereas “sucking up” is unmistakably American.The phrase "Asal Bapak Senang" (ABS) originally started as the name of a band formed by the personal guard regiment (Detasemen Cakrabirawa) during President Soekarno's era to accompany his dance performances at the palace. Soekarno and his entourage enjoyed the music, and the band was known by the acronym ABS. Interestingly, Sukarno himself did not seem to know the full meaning of the acronym and simply knew it by the abbreviation.The primary sources mentioning the band "Asal Bapak Senang" (ABS) trace back to historical testimonies and autobiographical accounts from those close to President Soekarno and his presidential guard. The band was formed by the Detasemen Kawal Pribadi (DKP) or the Presidential Bodyguard Regiment, under the leadership of Major Police Iskandar Winata and Commander Mangil Martowidjojo, to entertain President Sukarno during his dance performances at the palace, particularly for dances like lenso and cha-cha. Sukarno enjoyed the music from the band, which bore the acronym ABS, though he reportedly did not know the full meaning of the name and sometimes referred to it jokingly as "Brul Apen." Notable sources mentioning this include Sukarno's autobiography "Bung Karno Penyambung Lidah Rakyat Indonesia" by Cindy Adams, and testimonies in the book Sewindu Dekat Bung Karno by Bambang Widjanarko, Sukarno’s aide. Interviews with historians, descendants of some involved figures, and articles on sites also recount these details as primary or near-primary narratives. Therefore, the origin of "Asal Bapak Senang" as a band name is well-documented in historical testimonies and literature related to Sukarno's era, making them credible primary sources.The phrase began to morph into an idiomatic expression over time, describing a culture where subordinates or officials would only report good news or act to please their superiors, regardless of truth or reality. This behaviour, characterised by flattery or obsequiousness, became increasingly prominent and widely recognised during the New Order era under President Soeharto, who reportedly inspired more intense "Asal Bapak Senang" behaviours to stay in favour and avoid punishment.Thus, while the phrase's origin lies in Soekarno's time as a band name, its metaphorical and more widespread negative connotation as a political and bureaucratic culture became popular and entrenched during the New Order regime. It is a cultural phenomenon that evolved from a historical anecdote connected to Soekarno's circle but gained its full, often critical, political meaning and usage in the Soeharto period.
[Part 2]The phrase “asal bapak senang” captures more than a behavioural quirk; it encapsulates a set of incentives and social codes that shape how organisations and communities communicate, make decisions, and allocate credit. At its core, the expression describes an environment where the chief objective is to preserve the superior’s satisfaction, and this objective often trumps accuracy, dissent, or long-term thinking.Culturally, “asal bapak senang” reflects respect for hierarchy combined with an aversion to open conflict. In many collectivist societies, maintaining face and social harmony is valued, so people learn to moderate criticism and to present problems in ways that do not threaten the superior’s dignity. Over time, this practice becomes routinised: junior staff pre-emptively frame information to align with expected preferences, and rituals of deference — polite language, staged reporting, celebratory displays — replace candid assessment. While this preserves short-term cohesion, it can erode norms of candour and curiosity that are essential for learning and improvement.From a political perspective, the phrase highlights how patronage and image management can subvert accountability. When political leaders reward loyalty and penalise inconvenient truths, officials have strong reasons to produce polished reports and staged successes rather than to confront messy realities. This dynamic can lead to policy choices grounded more in optics than in evidence, and it may incentivise symbolic projects that photograph well over those that deliver sustained public value. In extreme cases, “asal bapak senang” contributes to corruption, capture of institutions, and a political culture in which blame-shifting and performance theatre take precedence over governance.Socially, the practice reshapes interpersonal trust and public discourse. If citizens, colleagues, or community members anticipate that decisions are principally driven by the desire to please powerful figures, they may become cynical or withdraw from participation. Informal networks of favour and reciprocity flourish under such conditions, privileging insiders and marginalising those who lack patronage. Conversely, conformism can create an appearance of unanimity that stifles minority voices and prevents institutions from benefiting from diverse perspectives — a slow-moving social cost that only becomes visible when crises expose the gaps between show and substance.Economically, “asal bapak senang” influences resource allocation, risk-taking, and organisational productivity. Firms or public agencies that prioritise pleasing executives may underinvest in monitoring systems, ignore early warning signs, or funnel resources into visible but low-value projects to signal competence. This leads to inefficiencies: capital and talent are misdirected, innovation is discouraged, and moral hazard increases because success is measured by proximity to power rather than by measurable outcomes. Over the long run, economies with widespread practices of performative compliance can suffer lower productivity growth and weaker institutional resilience.Recognising the problem does not mean blaming individuals alone; the incentives embedded in rules, reward structures, and social expectations matter. Remedies that have shown promise range from creating safe channels for dissent and protecting whistleblowers, to designing transparent performance metrics and rotating evaluators so that rewards are aligned with outcomes rather than with pleasing personalities. Cultivating a culture that values constructive feedback, learning from failure, and institutionalised checks can gradually reduce the space in which “asal bapak senang” thrives, replacing theatrical compliance with robust accountability.The expression “asal bapak senang” has its roots in the hierarchical structures that have long shaped Indonesian workplaces, politics, and bureaucratic culture. It emerged in the twentieth century, when modern bureaucracy and military-style organisations reinforced the idea that authority should be respected without question. In this context, subordinates quickly learned that what mattered was not necessarily delivering results in line with reality, but rather framing outcomes in ways that avoided displeasing superiors. The phrase gained traction particularly during the New Order era under President Suharto, when loyalty to the chain of command was considered paramount and dissent was systematically discouraged. During that time, upward reporting often meant polishing information, minimising problems, and amplifying successes, as long as it satisfied the “bapak,” a term that itself reflects both patriarchal authority and paternalistic leadership.Its popularity stemmed from lived experiences. Ordinary people observed how civil servants, politicians, and even private employees routinely adjusted their conduct and their language to fit the expectations of those above them. The phrase “asal bapak senang” became a satirical shorthand, used by the public to describe the absurd gap between official narratives and actual realities. Its bite lay in the recognition that systems of power were being sustained less by merit and more by a choreography of appearances. Over time, it evolved into a critical cultural label, one that continues to circulate widely in discussions of governance, workplace behaviour, and social commentary.In contemporary times, the term remains relevant. While Indonesia has moved into a more democratic era, the fundamental dynamics of hierarchy, image management, and patronage still persist. In corporate settings, employees may still refrain from criticising flawed projects to maintain harmony with management. In politics, staged spectacles and over-curated media campaigns often echo the same spirit of pleasing “the boss” rather than serving the citizenry. Even in digital spaces, the culture of “pleasing the superior” translates into performative loyalty on social media, where narratives are shaped to flatter leaders rather than to foster accountability.Thus, “asal bapak senang” remains a living concept: it continues to describe how people navigate power imbalances by privileging comfort over candour. Its persistence underscores both the resilience of hierarchical cultures and the challenge of building systems where truth is valued over deference. Far from being an outdated relic, the phrase serves as a reminder that genuine progress requires dismantling the incentive structures that reward surface-level compliance while punishing honest feedback.Now, let’s take the concept of “asal bapak senang” and place it directly into the living theatre of contemporary Indonesia, because the phrase only becomes sharper when seen in practice rather than in abstraction.One obvious case is in politics. In recent years, major infrastructure projects have often been rushed to completion to hold dramatic ribbon-cutting ceremonies before election cycles. Highways, airports, and even new capital city projects are frequently showcased as symbols of progress. Yet behind the glossy drone shots and ceremonial speeches, many reports surface about unfinished details, poor planning, or inflated costs. This is “asal bapak senang” in action: the spectacle is curated to keep leaders smiling and voters impressed, while the underlying issues remain unresolved.Another arena is bureaucracy. Civil servants often prepare visually impressive reports—full of colourful charts, slogans, and ceremonial jargon—but these documents may conceal more than they reveal. For instance, poverty reduction or employment data might be polished to demonstrate “success,” even when people on the ground feel no tangible improvement. Subordinates know that presenting raw, uncomfortable truths risks reprimand or sidelining, so they deliver what the superior expects to hear. The truth is bent, not because individuals are inherently dishonest, but because the system rewards optimism and punishes candour.The corporate world is hardly immune. In Indonesian companies, especially state-owned enterprises, employees may hesitate to flag design flaws or financial risks if such honesty would disturb boardroom harmony. We have seen scandals erupt in firms where whistleblowers were ignored, and losses piled up because nobody wanted to spoil the mood of the directors. In effect, “asal bapak senang” delays problem-solving until crises are unavoidable.Social media adds a modern twist. Today, the “bapak” is not only a literal superior but also a symbolic figure: political leaders, corporate bosses, or even influencers. Online buzzers and loyalists flood timelines with choreographed praise, drowning out dissenting voices. Every photo-op, every public statement, and every campaign is amplified into a spectacle of success, regardless of substance. Once again, what matters is not reality but the satisfaction of the leader and the perception of unity.Taken together, these examples show that “asal bapak senang” is not merely a cultural relic of the Suharto era. It has adapted to the democratic age, the corporate age, and the digital age. Its resilience lies in the fact that power hierarchies remain, and as long as systems incentivise image over honesty, the phrase will stay relevant—an enduring reminder of how easily truth can be sidelined in service of authority.
