Sunday, October 5, 2025

Eighty Years of the Indonesian National Armed Forces (TNI) Guarding the Republic

On this sacred fifth of October, the Republic bows not in submission, but in solemn gratitude. Eighty years have passed since the birth of a force that is neither mere muscle nor machinery—but memory, meaning, and moral compass.

The Tentara Nasional Indonesia (TNI) was not conjured from bureaucracy. It was born of blood, of longing, of revolution. It rose from the Badan Keamanan Rakyat (BKR), a humble beginning that whispered of sovereignty.

From BKR to TKR, then TRI, and finally TNI—each name a metamorphosis, each shift a mirror of the nation’s soul. It was not just a military—it was the marrow of independence.

In the jungles of Java and the rivers of Sumatra, the TNI fought not for conquest, but for dignity. It was the rifle of the rakyat, the roar of the revolution, the rhythm of resistance.

Salim Said, in his seminal work Genesis of Power (1991), reminds us that General Sudirman did not lead from palaces, but from the forest floor. His leadership was not of command, but of communion.

Sudirman’s illness did not weaken him—it sanctified him. He became a symbol of sacrifice, a prophet of patriotism. His army was not just trained—it was trusted.

Philosophically, the TNI is not a tool of the state—it is a reflection of the rakyat. It is the embodiment of Pancasila, especially sila ketiga: the unity of Indonesia.

It is a paradoxical force—armed, yet peace-seeking; disciplined, yet empathetic. It must never forget that its strength lies not in its weapons, but in its wisdom.

Politically, the TNI has walked through fire. From the Dwifungsi doctrine of the New Order to the reforms of the post-1998 era, it has been both actor and audience.

Dwifungsi was a double-edged sword. It gave the TNI influence, but blurred its identity. It became both guardian and governor—a role that history would later question.

The Reformasi era demanded a reckoning. Civil society rose, demanding accountability. The TNI was asked to retreat from politics—not as defeat, but as dignity.

Undang-Undang No. 34 Tahun 2004 was a milestone. It redefined the TNI’s role strictly within defence, separating it from the police and political apparatus.

This law was not a limitation—it was liberation. It allowed the TNI to return to its roots: as protector, not politician.

Economically, the TNI is often invisible, yet indispensable. In disaster zones, it is the first to arrive. In remote regions, it builds what others abandon.

It guards the arteries of commerce—the straits, the ports, the skies. It is the silent partner in Indonesia’s prosperity, ensuring that development is not derailed by disorder.

Socially, the TNI is not a distant entity. It is the neighbour who rebuilds after the flood, the teacher in the hills, the medic in the aftermath of an earthquake.

Culturally, it is a mosaic. It speaks in dialects, dances in adat, and mourns in local rituals. It is not a monolith—it is a mirror of Indonesia’s pluralism.

In Aceh, it must honour syariah. In Bali, it must respect Hindu rites. In Papua, it must listen—not command. The TNI must be fluent in empathy.

Historically, it has faced trials. The Madiun Affair, DI/TII, PRRI/Permesta—all tested its loyalty, its discipline, its identity.

During the New Order, it became entangled in power. It built roads, but also silenced dissent. It guarded borders, but also guarded regimes.

The post-1998 era was a rebirth. The TNI began to reform—not just its structure, but its soul. It stepped back from politics, and stepped forward into professionalism.

Today, the battlefield has changed. The threats are no longer just tanks and missiles—they are cyberattacks, disinformation, pandemics, and climate crises.

The TNI must evolve—not just in arms, but in intellect. It must train not just warriors, but thinkers. Not just marksmen, but mediators.

Its doctrine must be dynamic. Its leadership must be visionary. Its ethics must be unshakable. For in this age, brute force is obsolete.

The theme of this year’s anniversary—“TNI Prima, TNI Rakyat, Indonesia Maju”—is not mere slogan. It is a manifesto.

“Prima” stands for professional, responsif, integratif, modern, adaptif. It is a call to excellence, not arrogance.

“TNI Rakyat” is a reminder: the military is not above the people—it is of them. It must walk with the rakyat, not ahead of them.

“Indonesia Maju” is the destination. A nation that is sovereign, just, and prosperous—guarded not by fear, but by faith.

President Prabowo, in his 2025 HUT TNI address, echoed this ethos: “TNI adalah anak kandung rakyat Indonesia. TNI timbul dan tenggelam bersama rakyat.”

This is not rhetoric—it is responsibility. The TNI must be ready to sacrifice, not just serve. To protect, not possess.

It must confront its own ghosts—cases of abuse, impunity, and excess. These must not be buried, but addressed. For only through truth can trust be rebuilt.

It must be transparent, accountable, and humble. It must welcome scrutiny, not fear it. It must serve the people, not command them.

It must invest in education, in dialogue, in diplomacy. It must be a bridge, not a barrier.

It must collaborate with universities, NGOs, and communities. It must learn from farmers, fishermen, and teachers.

In Papua, it must listen. In Natuna, it must protect. In Jakarta, it must advise. In the world, it must represent.

It must honour its fallen, but uplift its living. It must remember its history, but write its future.

It must be ready for war, but committed to peace. It must be strong, but gentle. Fierce, but fair.

It must embrace gender equity. Women have served, bled, and led. Their role must be expanded, not tokenised.

It must be a sanctuary of integrity. A place where honour is not a slogan, but a standard.

It must be fluent in technology—AI, cyber, satellite, drone. But also fluent in humanity.

It must be a force of peacekeeping, not provocation. A force of resilience, not repression.

It must be the shield of the republic, the soul of the people, and the sentinel of tomorrow.

It must be the echo of 1945, the pulse of 2025, and the hope of 2045.

It must be the memory of Sudirman, the mandate of the rakyat, and the mirror of the nation.

And on this day, we do not merely celebrate its age—we honour its essence.

Long live the TNI. May its rifle be just, its heart be wise, and its path be righteous.

And so, to close, let us ponder the counsel of Iwan Fals, as sung in his ballad “Serdadu”.

Serdadu baktimu kami tunggu,
[Soldier, we await thy loyal grace,]
Tolong kantongkan tampang serammu.
[Sheathe thy scowl, let calmness trace.]
Serdadu rabalah dada kami,
[Soldier, lay thy hand upon our chest,]
Gunakan hati jangan pakai belati.
[Use thy heart, not blade’s unrest.]

Serdadu jangan mau disuap,
[Soldier, spurn the gilded bribe,]
Tanah ini jelas meratap.
[This grieving land shall not connive.]
Serdadu jangan lemah syahwat,
[Soldier, curb thy lustful sway,]
Nyonya pertiwi tak sudi melihat.
[Madam Earth turns her gaze away.]