[Part 1]During the 80th anniversary celebration of the Indonesian National Armed Forces (TNI), President Prabowo Subianto wore a khaki-coloured outfit that stood out from the usual presidential attire. Based on the most recent and credible reports, President Prabowo Subianto wore a cream-coloured safari shirt during the 80th anniversary of the Indonesian National Armed Forces (TNI), not khaki. The shirt featured four pockets and was paired with matching trousers, a style long associated with Prabowo since his early political campaigns. While the colour might resemble khaki to the casual eye, it is more accurately described as cream or light beige, distinct from the traditional khaki tone, which tends to be darker and more olive or brownish in hue. This distinction matters, especially in political optics and symbolic messaging.During the 2009 presidential campaign, Prabowo Subianto’s signature safari shirt—often cream or beige—was indeed mocked by a journalist. The incident occurred during a televised interview with a senior reporter from Metro TV in Jakarta. In that interview, the reporter made a pointed remark about Prabowo’s attire, likening his safari shirt to something outdated or overly militaristic. The comment was perceived by many as dismissive, even condescending, especially given the symbolic weight the safari shirt carried for Prabowo—representing discipline, nationalism, and his personal brand of leadership. The moment sparked reactions across media circles, with supporters defending the outfit as part of Prabowo’s identity, while critics saw it as a relic of authoritarian aesthetics.Interestingly, instead of abandoning the look, Prabowo doubled down. Over the years, the safari shirt evolved from a mocked costume into a visual trademark—worn during key announcements, campaign rallies, and even state ceremonies. What was once ridiculed became iconic. The cream safari suit evokes Prabowo’s signature style—civilian yet commanding, nostalgic yet forward-looking. It’s a uniform of continuity, not camouflage.He was seen donning a black peci and khaki ensemble while riding the locally manufactured tactical vehicle, Maung, from the Merdeka Palace to the National Monument (Monas). This sartorial choice was not only symbolic of his military background but also echoed the aesthetics of field command—a nod to his past as a general and his present role as the supreme commander of the armed forces.The khaki attire, shared by other defence officials such as Defence Minister Sjafrie Sjamsoeddin and Vice President Gibran Rakabuming Raka, subtly redefined the optics of leadership. It blurred the lines between civilian presidency and martial solidarity, projecting an image of unity, readiness, and nostalgia. In a ceremony marked by grandeur—complete with 80 horses, 80 patrol motorcycles, and over 133,000 personnel—the khaki uniform became a visual anchor, tying the spectacle to Prabowo’s persona and the legacy of TNI itself.Back to our main topic.
The culture of “asal bapak senang” can isolate a leader from the truth because it systematically channels communication in ways that prioritise the leader’s satisfaction over accuracy. Subordinates quickly learn that delivering bad news or honest criticism may carry risks—being labelled disloyal, losing strategic responsibilities, or facing reprimands. Consequently, information is filtered, softened, or delayed. The leader, therefore, receives a curated narrative that may distort reality, leaving the underlying facts hidden beneath layers of bureaucracy or organisational politicking.This process often develops incrementally. Initially, minor issues are polished or selectively reported. Over time, even significant strategic problems or potential crises can be disguised or downplayed. Subordinates habitually present narratives that flatter the leader’s ego, and the leader begins to perceive the world according to the version that has been carefully crafted, rather than the objective reality. This creates an information bubble—a conceptual space in which the leader sees only what confirms their decisions or provides comfort, while risks and challenges remain concealed.The problem is compounded by reward structures and social sanctions. In organisations where appearances of success, tidy reports, and unquestioning obedience are celebrated, there is little incentive to offer unwelcome truths. Even those genuinely committed to honesty learn to withhold, adjust, or reinterpret information to protect their careers or reputations. Gradually, the leader becomes increasingly insulated from facts, relying on representations controlled by others, often making decisions based on partial or flawed information.Psychologically, this isolation fosters confirmation bias. Leaders repeatedly exposed to filtered narratives tend to believe that their understanding is complete, making them less receptive to alternative viewpoints, risk assessments, or inconvenient truths. The “asal bapak senang” culture, therefore, reshapes both the behaviour of subordinates and the leader’s perception of reality, widening the gap between perception and objective conditions.The consequences of this isolation are significant for decision-making and organisational or national performance. When leaders operate within an information bubble, they are more likely to make strategic errors, misallocate resources, or prioritise visible achievements over substantive outcomes. Policies may focus on short-term optics rather than long-term impact, creating inefficiencies, bottlenecks, and missed opportunities. In bureaucracies, projects can fail quietly until crises become unavoidable, while in corporate settings, unchecked risks may culminate in financial collapse. On a national scale, filtered information can exacerbate social or economic vulnerabilities, leaving governments ill-prepared for emergencies and undermining public trust.In essence, the culture of “asal bapak senang” is not a benign social habit; it is a structural hazard. By privileging comfort, deference, and appearance over truth, it cultivates environments where mistakes propagate, innovation stagnates, and leaders are shielded from reality until the consequences become too severe to ignore. Understanding this dynamic is crucial: it demonstrates that cultural norms around pleasing authority do not merely shape workplace interactions—they have the power to influence organisational resilience, governance quality, and societal well-being.The culture of “asal bapak senang”, when left unchecked, has the potential to escalate from a minor behavioural pattern into full-blown organisational or national crises. At its core, this culture fosters a systematic distortion of information: problems are minimised, warnings are ignored, and only flattering narratives reach the top. Initially, this may seem harmless—reports look good, leaders appear effective, and short-term achievements are celebrated. Yet, the danger lies in accumulation: when small distortions compound over time, they obscure the true scale of underlying issues.Consider a public infrastructure project. Engineers notice design flaws and budgetary gaps, but reports submitted to ministers emphasise milestones achieved rather than obstacles encountered. Supervisors, fearful of displeasing their superiors, echo this selective narrative. As deadlines approach, the cumulative effect of these concealed issues may result in construction failures, safety hazards, or massive cost overruns. By the time the minister or the public discovers the severity of the problems, the project may be beyond salvage, reputational damage is enormous, and political fallout inevitable. What began as a simple pattern of “pleasing authority” has metastasised into a crisis that no amount of polishing or spin can contain.In corporate contexts, the dynamics are similar. A company may pursue high-visibility initiatives to satisfy executive preferences, ignoring underlying operational weaknesses. Managers overstate performance metrics, while risk indicators are downplayed. Eventually, the discrepancies become catastrophic: financial mismanagement leads to collapse, public scandals emerge, and employees’ trust erodes. Often, outsiders or regulators are the first to notice the truth, while executives are blindsided, having been shielded by layers of curated information.The dramatic consequence is a delayed awakening: when the truth finally surfaces, leaders find themselves isolated, decisions irreversible, and options limited. Crises unfold rapidly because the organisation or institution has not been operating on reality but on a façade maintained to maintain comfort and approval. The culture of “asal bapak senang”, therefore, is not merely a social quirk; it is a latent hazard, capable of transforming minor distortions into systemic failure, and ultimately converting ordinary mismanagement into disaster.In President Prabowo Subianto’s administration, the culture of “asal bapak senang”—a tendency to please superiors at the expense of truth—has manifested in ways that have led to significant public concern and institutional crises. A prominent example is the Free Nutritious Meal (MBG) programme, launched with the noble aim of combating malnutrition among Indonesia’s children.President Prabowo's speech at the PKS National Conference on September 29, 2025, particularly his remarks on the Makan Bergizi Gratis (MBG) program, has generated diverse reactions among the public, critics, and netizens. In his speech, he candidly acknowledged the program's shortcomings, including systemic inefficiencies and mismanagement, while expressing pride in the program's reach to millions of beneficiaries. He emphasised the complexity and gradual nature of the program's implementation, urging patience and cooperation to ensure its success and to prevent corruption and waste.Critics have praised his transparency and willingness to admit flaws, highlighting it as a responsible approach to governance, while others have voiced concerns about the pace of progress and the effectiveness of the program’s oversight mechanisms. Some netizens appreciated his call for peace and orderly participation in political discourse, especially in light of recent protests, while others combined humour and political critique, pointing out the gap between ambition and reality in the roll-out of MBG.Overall, the speech sparked a wide conversation on social media and other platforms, reflecting the hopes for meaningful reform alongside persistent scepticism based on past experiences. The tone of the public discourse balanced between encouragement for the administration's honesty and demands for tangible, swift improvements in food security and social welfare.The criticisms directed at the Makan Bergizi Gratis (MBG) program concerning its effectiveness largely revolve around the perceived slow pace of implementation and persistent issues in the system's execution. Despite the government’s efforts and the ambitious target of benefiting millions of Indonesians, critics argue that the rollout has been sluggish relative to the pressing nutritional needs of vulnerable populations, particularly children. One of the key points of contention is the presence of significant deviations from efficient distribution channels, where the delivery of nutritious meals sometimes fails to reach those who need it most. This inefficiency not only jeopardises the program's overall impact but also raises suspicions regarding the potential for corruption within the logistical and administrative processes.Moreover, there have been concerns about the uneven distribution of resources, with some regions receiving adequate attention while others remain underserved. This unevenness highlights a broader problem in governance and oversight, where the coordination among various bodies responsible for the program falls short of ensuring equitable access. The lack of robust monitoring and evaluation mechanisms has further exacerbated these issues, making it difficult to promptly identify and rectify waste, mismanagement, or corrupt practices.Stakeholders and experts urge the government to enhance transparency, strengthen regulatory frameworks, and implement stringent monitoring protocols to ensure accountability and the effective use of allocated budgets. They stress the importance of a comprehensive strategy that addresses both the supply chain and demand aspects, incorporating community engagement and tailored approaches for regions with complex nutritional challenges. The goal is not merely to distribute meals but to ensure that these meals contribute meaningfully to improving health and educational outcomes across the country.The recent public scrutiny surrounding the leadership of Indonesia’s National Nutrition Agency (Badan Gizi Nasional, or BGN) stems from a combination of structural shifts, political appointments, and a wave of food poisoning cases linked to the Free Nutritious Meal (MBG) programme. The agency, established in August 2024 under President Joko Widodo and now operating under President Prabowo Subianto, was designed to centralise efforts in combating malnutrition and food insecurity. However, its credibility has come under fire following reports of over 5,000 students affected by MBG-related poisoning incidents.The current head of BGN, Dadan Hindayana, is a former academic from IPB University, and he is supported by three deputy heads: Brigadier General (Ret.) Lodewyk Pusung, Brigadier General of Police Sony Sonjaya, and journalist-turned-public communicator Nanik Sudaryati Deyang. In total, the agency’s top brass includes several retired military officers, which has sparked debate over whether their backgrounds align with the technical and public health demands of a nutrition-focused institution.Critics argue that the appointments reflect a politicised structure rather than a meritocratic one, especially given the lack of detailed public profiles or transparent qualifications for some of the officials. The agency has promised that each deputy will carry out specific mandates, but as of mid-September 2025, only Nanik’s role—focused on public communication and investigation—has been clarified. The rest remain vague, fuelling public speculation and concern.Dadan Hindayana was appointed by President Joko Widodo—not by President Prabowo Subianto. His inauguration as the first head of the newly established Badan Gizi Nasional (National Nutrition Agency) took place on 19 August 2024 at the Istana Negara in Jakarta. The appointment was formalised through Presidential Decree No. 94P of 2024, and Jokowi personally led the oath-taking ceremony.While the MBG (Makan Bergizi Gratis) programme is a flagship initiative of the Prabowo-Gibran administration, the institutional groundwork and leadership of BGN were laid during Jokowi’s final months in office. This has led to a somewhat tangled narrative, where a Jokowi-appointed figure is now tasked with executing a programme under Prabowo’s banner—raising questions about continuity, accountability, and political alignment. In essence, while the BGN was created to spearhead a transformative nutrition agenda, its leadership composition and operational transparency are now being questioned. The tension between military-style governance and public health expertise is at the heart of this controversy, and the agency’s response to the MBG crisis will likely determine its future legitimacy.President Prabowo's statement regarding the food poisoning incidents in the Makan Bergizi Gratis (MBG) program, where he claimed that the poisoning cases amounted to only 0.0017 percent of the total meals distributed, has met with mixed reactions from the public. While the figure is presented to underline that the problem is statistically very small relative to the vast number of beneficiaries—around 30 million children and pregnant women—many remain sceptical. The public acknowledges that even a tiny percentage translates into thousands of affected individuals, which is significant considering the program’s intent to safeguard child nutrition.Critics argue that focusing on the percentage alone downplays the seriousness of the incidents, especially since food poisoning among children is highly concerning and demands stringent safety measures. There is widespread concern about the program’s operational readiness, including the quality control and hygiene standards at the kitchens preparing the meals. Experts and the public have pointed out that the ambitious target of reaching millions of beneficiaries within a short timeframe may have compromised food safety protocols, leading to repeated poisoning outbreaks in several regions.The government’s response, including closing substandard kitchens and introducing stricter hygiene oversight, has been welcomed but also underscores that the initial rollout was rushed. There are calls for increased transparency, better monitoring, and accountability to prevent such issues in the future. Overall, the statement has sparked debate on balancing scale and quality in social welfare programs, with many urging that no statistical minimisation should overshadow the genuine health risks experienced by children.The situation surrounding the Makan Bergizi Gratis (MBG) program, particularly the food poisoning incidents and the public's scepticism towards the reported 0.0017 per cent poisoning rate, can indeed be interpreted as a case of "asal bapak senang" — a phrase in Indonesian that criticises decision-makers who prioritise appearances or personal satisfaction over the actual welfare of the people. In this scenario, the government's emphasis on the small percentage might seem like an attempt to downplay serious issues, thus giving an impression of superficial success rather than addressing the real problems faced by beneficiaries.Furthermore, this situation also reflects characteristics of a "leader isolated from the truth." When a leader focuses primarily on optimistic statistics while the ground reality shows significant flaws, it often indicates a disconnect between the leadership and the lived experiences of the people. This kind of isolation can hinder effective governance because policies and programs might be shaped more by selected data points or political convenience rather than the genuine conditions on the ground. In essence, failing to fully acknowledge and tackle systemic problems reveals a leadership style that is detached from actual truth and social realities.This interpretation aligns with the critical responses from civil society and experts who demand greater transparency and accountability, urging the administration to look beyond numbers and face the real challenges impacting public health and welfare.The consequences of this culture are profound. The MBG programme, intended to be a flagship initiative, has instead become a symbol of mismanagement and public distrust. The food poisoning incidents have not only jeopardised the health of thousands of children but have also eroded public confidence in the government's ability to implement large-scale programmes effectively. The administration's response, characterised by denial and a reluctance to acknowledge shortcomings, has exacerbated the crisis, highlighting the dangers of a leadership insulated from the truth.
In President Prabowo Subianto's administration, the more prominent issue appears to be his isolation from the truth, rather than the culture of “asal bapak senang” (pleasing the superior). This isolation manifests in his speeches and policy decisions, where he seems detached from the realities faced by the public. For instance, his ambitious Free Nutritious Meal (MBG) programme, intended to combat child malnutrition, has faced significant challenges, including food poisoning incidents affecting thousands of children. Despite these issues, the government's response has been to downplay the severity, with officials attributing the problems to minor procedural failures rather than acknowledging systemic flaws.This detachment is further evident in his speeches, where he often presents an overly optimistic view of the nation's progress, overlooking the underlying issues such as economic disparities and inadequate public services. Critics argue that this approach reflects a lack of genuine engagement with the public's concerns and a preference for maintaining a positive image over addressing pressing problems.The culture of “asal bapak senang” does play a role in this dynamic, as it fosters an environment where dissenting opinions are discouraged, leading to a lack of critical feedback for the president. However, the more pressing concern is the president's apparent isolation from the truth, which hampers effective governance and erodes public trust.In conclusion, the phenomenon of “asal bapak senang” illustrates a deeply ingrained behavioural pattern in political and organisational cultures where subordinates prioritise pleasing the leader over truth or accountability. This pattern is not merely a matter of personal preference; it is embedded in historical and cultural norms, as Benedict Anderson demonstrates in his studies of Javanese power structures. The emphasis on harmony, respect, and emotional comfort often comes at the expense of accuracy and critical communication.As a result, leaders who are surrounded by such loyalists risk becoming isolated from reality. The filtering of information, whether intentional or culturally conditioned, means that bad news, dissenting opinions, and inconvenient facts are often delayed, softened, or entirely omitted. This isolation is not merely theoretical: it can directly influence the quality of decision-making, leading to choices that are detached from the actual conditions faced by the populace or the organisation.The consequences of this dynamic can be profound. Policies may be based on incomplete or distorted information, organisational initiatives may fail, and public trust can erode when the gap between narrative and reality becomes visible. What begins as a desire to maintain harmony and protect the leader’s dignity may escalate into structural inefficiencies, mismanagement, and, in extreme cases, systemic failure. The leader, shielded from unpleasant truths, unknowingly perpetuates the very risks that could have been mitigated through honest feedback.Moreover, the culture of pleasing the leader fosters a climate in which creativity, innovation, and constructive criticism are discouraged. Subordinates learn that compliance and flattery are rewarded more than competence or insight, which ultimately stifles organisational growth and civic accountability. Anderson’s analysis highlights that this is not simply a moral failing but a structural and cultural condition, deeply woven into the fabric of leadership and governance in certain contexts.Finally, recognising the patterns of “asal bapak senang” and its consequences is crucial for both leaders and the public. Leaders must cultivate channels for candid feedback and seek diverse perspectives to counteract isolation, while citizens and subordinates must learn to communicate truthfully yet respectfully. Only by acknowledging these dynamics can the distortions of filtered information be mitigated, ensuring that authority does not become a cocoon shielding decision-makers from reality and the society they serve.
[Part 3]
