[Part 4]Several mainstream media outlets have circulated the story about the Vice President’s diploma under the headline: “When Martabak Turns into a Diamond Necklace and Bananas Become Swiss Watches.” The metaphor, of course, is deliberate: ordinary things are suddenly transformed into symbols of prestige, wealth, and unquestionable authority, simply because someone with influence says so. Reporters copy-paste the press release, readers gasp at the glittering absurdity, and no one dares to ask the awkward questions about what really lies inside the wrapper—or the transcript.In other words, the story perfectly captures the surreal alchemy of power in contemporary media: humble ingredients, sprinkled with authority and repetition, can miraculously turn into icons of legitimacy, worthy of trending hashtags and endless commentary. The martabak, like the diploma, may still be the same inside—but hey, it now shines like gold.The phrase “if you have to tell people you are, you aren’t” captures a profound truth about the nature of power, authority, and authenticity. On the surface, it is a witty quip, often deployed in discussions about gender and leadership, but beneath it lies a nuanced insight: true influence does not require overt proclamation. Power, in its most effective form, is recognised and felt rather than announced. Those who constantly insist on their status, capability, or authority often reveal a deficit of genuine power, because authentic influence is built on credibility, respect, competence, and trust, not on self-promotion.From a psychological perspective, this connects with what Dacher Keltner explores in "The Power Paradox: How We Gain and Lose Influence". The most enduring forms of influence arise from helping others, expressing empathy, and fostering reciprocal relationships. Leaders who need to shout about their power are frequently compensating for a lack of these qualities. Philosophers and political theorists like Steven Lukes echo a similar sentiment: the most subtle and effective forms of power are those that shape others’ perceptions, desires, and choices without needing explicit declaration.The phrase also resonates strongly in gendered contexts. Historically, society has policed women’s expression of authority, and women in positions of power have often been judged harshly for asserting dominance. The quip cleverly encapsulates that tension: if someone truly commands authority, whether as a man or a woman, it is evident through their actions, decisions, and the respect they elicit — there is no need for constant verbal confirmation.Beyond leadership, this insight applies broadly to any domain of life where credibility matters. Teachers, artists, mentors, and creators often find that their competence speaks louder than any claim they could make. The moment one feels compelled to tell the world “I am powerful” or “I am capable,” the authenticity of that claim is, paradoxically, weakened. It is a reminder that influence is cultivated quietly, and reputation is built through deeds more than words.In what can only be described as a masterclass in stenography masquerading as journalism, mainstream media outlets have once again proven their undying devotion to the sacred art of press releases. MDIS uttered a single syllable—“yes”—and suddenly every headline from Jakarta to Jayapura transformed into “MDIS Confirms Gibran Graduated,” as if the gates of academic heaven had opened.No one, it seems, thought to ask the obvious: “Graduated from what programme? With which degree? Was it Marketing, Magic, or just good manners?” But alas, in the age of speed-over-substance, facts are often left stranded at the station while the news train barrels ahead with nothing but vibes and a screenshot.Journalists, once noble seekers of truth, now resemble enthusiastic couriers—delivering whatever’s handed to them without so much as a raised eyebrow. And yet, they call this a “clarification,” when in reality, it’s merely a ceremonial nod to public curiosity, never quite accompanied by proof. It’s not investigative reporting—it’s academic cosplay.Now we return to the main topic of Corruption.
In Chapter II, The Corruption Cure, titled Measuring and Assessing Corrupt Behavior, Robert I. Rotberg confronts one of the most elusive challenges in the fight against corruption: how to quantify something that often thrives in secrecy. He argues that while corruption is inherently clandestine, it leaves behind measurable traces—patterns of behaviour, institutional decay, and public perception—that can be systematically analysed.Rotberg explores a range of tools and indices, such as Transparency International’s Corruption Perceptions Index and the World Bank’s governance indicators, but he cautions against relying solely on perception-based metrics. He insists that effective assessment must combine qualitative and quantitative approaches, including audits, investigative journalism, whistleblower reports, and citizen feedback. For Rotberg, measuring corruption is not just about ranking countries—it’s about diagnosing the health of institutions and identifying where integrity has been compromised.He also critiques the tendency of some governments to manipulate data or suppress evidence of wrongdoing. In his view, honest measurement is a political act—it requires courage, independence, and a refusal to be co-opted. Ultimately, Rotberg sees assessment as the first step toward accountability: if corruption can be mapped, it can be confronted.In Chapter III of The Corruption Cure, titled Strong Laws and Other Watchdogs, Robert I. Rotberg argues that robust legal frameworks and vigilant oversight institutions are essential—but not sufficient—for combating corruption. He acknowledges that many countries possess anti-corruption laws on paper, yet fail to enforce them due to political interference, institutional weakness, or lack of genuine commitment. For Rotberg, the mere existence of laws is meaningless unless they are backed by independent watchdogs with teeth.He emphasises the importance of autonomous anti-corruption commissions, ombudsmen, and audit offices that operate free from executive manipulation. These watchdogs must be empowered to investigate, prosecute, and publicise wrongdoing without fear or favour. Rotberg warns that in many contexts, such institutions are deliberately underfunded, politically compromised, or used as tools of selective justice. He insists that true accountability requires not just legal architecture, but a culture of enforcement—where laws are applied consistently and watchdogs are respected, not silenced.Ultimately, Rotberg sees strong laws and independent oversight as part of a broader ecosystem of integrity. They must be complemented by civic engagement, media scrutiny, and leadership that values transparency over loyalty. Without these elements, even the most sophisticated legal codes become hollow shields behind which corruption thrives.At the beginning of Chapter III of The Corruption Cure, Robert I. Rotberg lays out a clear and urgent framework for what he considers essential to any serious attempt to eradicate corrupt practices. He argues that no anti-corruption effort can succeed without a combination of strong laws, independent institutions, and courageous leadership. Laws alone are not enough—they must be enforced consistently, without favouritism or political interference. For Rotberg, the presence of legislation is meaningless if it is not backed by watchdogs that are empowered to investigate, prosecute, and expose wrongdoing.He insists that these watchdogs—such as anti-corruption commissions, ombudsmen, and audit offices—must be autonomous, well-resourced, and protected from retaliation. Their independence is not a luxury, but a necessity. Rotberg also highlights the importance of transparency mechanisms, including public access to government data, open procurement systems, and protections for whistleblowers. He believes that corruption thrives in secrecy, and that sunlight—through media scrutiny and citizen oversight—is a powerful disinfectant.Above all, Rotberg returns to the theme of political will. He argues that even the most sophisticated legal and institutional frameworks will fail if leaders are unwilling to confront corruption within their own ranks. Eradicating corrupt practices, in his view, requires a full ecosystem of integrity: laws that bite, institutions that act, citizens who speak out, and leaders who refuse to look the other way.In Chapter IV of The Corruption Cure, Robert I. Rotberg explores the effectiveness of anticorruption investigative commissions, focusing on case studies from Hong Kong, Singapore, and Indonesia. He argues that when properly empowered, these commissions can serve as powerful instruments of reform—capable of dismantling entrenched networks of graft and restoring public trust. Rotberg praises the Independent Commission Against Corruption (ICAC) in Hong Kong and the Corrupt Practices Investigation Bureau (CPIB) in Singapore as exemplary models. Both institutions, he notes, were granted autonomy, legal authority, and political backing to pursue corruption without fear or favour.Rotberg highlights how Hong Kong’s ICAC transformed a culture of routine bribery into one of institutional integrity, largely through aggressive investigation, public education, and visible enforcement. Similarly, Singapore’s CPIB succeeded by combining strong leadership with consistent prosecution and a zero-tolerance ethos. These commissions did not merely punish wrongdoing—they reshaped norms.When turning to Indonesia, Rotberg acknowledges the promise of the Komisi Pemberantasan Korupsi (KPK). He commends its early successes in prosecuting high-level officials and building public confidence. However, he also warns that the KPK’s effectiveness depends on its independence and resilience against political interference. For Rotberg, the virtue of anticorruption commissions lies not just in their mandate, but in their ability to act boldly, transparently, and without compromise.Robert I. Rotberg’s The Corruption Cure was published in 2017, at a time when Indonesia’s Corruption Eradication Commission (KPK) was still widely regarded as one of the most formidable anti-graft institutions in the Global South. However, since then, the KPK has undergone significant transformations—many of which have raised concerns about its independence and effectiveness.
The turning point came in 2019, when the Indonesian Parliament passed a controversial revision to the KPK Law. This amendment reclassified the KPK as a government agency, placing it under the executive branch and requiring its investigators to become civil servants. Critics argued that this change undermined the commission’s autonomy and exposed it to political interference. The revision also introduced a supervisory board with the power to approve wiretaps and investigations, further diluting the KPK’s operational freedom.Under President Joko Widodo’s administration, these reforms were justified as efforts to “strengthen oversight.” Still, many civil society groups, academics, and former commissioners viewed them as a systematic weakening of the institution. The term “KPK dilemahkan” (KPK has been weakened) became a rallying cry among protesters, students, and anti-corruption activists.Despite these setbacks, the KPK continued to pursue cases, though with noticeably reduced intensity and fewer high-profile convictions. Public trust eroded, and Indonesia’s ranking in global corruption indices stagnated. By 2024–2025, discussions about restoring the KPK’s independence resurfaced, especially as the country transitioned into a new administration under President Prabowo Subianto. While the future remains uncertain, the KPK’s trajectory from fearless watchdog to embattled agency reflects the broader tension between institutional integrity and political control.Corruption in Indonesia is not confined to a single domain—it permeates both public and private sectors, often through collusion. According to KPK’s data from 2004 to mid-2025, the highest number of corruption cases involved private sector actors, with 485 cases. These individuals typically operate as contractors, brokers, or corporate executives who collude with state officials in procurement, infrastructure, and licensing schemes.Following closely are civil servants in Echelon I–IV positions, with 443 cases. These bureaucrats often control budget allocations, project approvals, and regulatory enforcement, making them key nodes in corrupt networks. Legislators from the DPR and DPRD rank third, with 364 cases, reflecting how political power is frequently monetised through vote-buying, budget manipulation, and influence peddling.Local government figures such as mayors, regents, and their deputies account for 171 cases, while ministers and heads of national agencies contributed to 41 cases. Even the judiciary is not immune—judges, prosecutors, and police officers have been implicated, though in smaller numbers.These patterns reveal that corruption thrives in sectors with discretionary authority, opaque budgeting, and weak oversight. The most vulnerable areas include public procurement, infrastructure development, natural resource management, and regional budget disbursement. The private sector’s role is equally critical, often acting as the enabler or beneficiary of corrupt deals.Jump into Chapter VII, The Gift of Political Will and Leadership, Robert I. Rotberg makes a compelling case that the most decisive factor in combating corruption is not laws, institutions, or international pressure—it is leadership. He argues that political will is not a technical resource but a moral force, a deliberate choice by those in power to confront corruption rather than accommodate it. For Rotberg, genuine reform begins when leaders refuse to protect cronies, reject impunity, and prioritise integrity over convenience.He illustrates how transformative leadership can shift national trajectories. When a president or prime minister commits to transparency, empowers watchdogs, and leads by example, the ripple effects reach every level of governance. Rotberg stresses that political will is contagious: it emboldens reformers, energises civil society, and signals to bureaucrats that the rules have changed. Conversely, when leaders are complicit or indifferent, even the strongest institutions will falter.
Rotberg does not romanticise leadership—he knows it can be flawed, strategic, or short-lived. But he insists that without it, anti-corruption efforts remain hollow. The “gift” of political will, in his view, is the rare but powerful moment when a leader chooses to act against the grain, disrupt the status quo, and make integrity a national priority. That gift, he argues, is the spark that turns laws into action and hope into momentum.
In Chapter IX, People Power, Social Media, and Corporate Rigor, Robert I. Rotberg explores how grassroots mobilisation, digital platforms, and private sector accountability can collectively challenge corruption. He argues that while laws and institutions are vital, they are often inert without public pressure. For Rotberg, people power is not a romantic ideal—it is a strategic force. When citizens organise, protest, and demand transparency, they create the political cost that compels leaders to act.He highlights the transformative role of social media in amplifying citizen voices, exposing wrongdoing, and coordinating collective action. Platforms like Twitter and Facebook, he notes, have become tools for whistleblowers, journalists, and activists to bypass censorship and reach mass audiences. However, Rotberg also warns that digital mobilisation must be paired with sustained offline engagement—hashtags alone cannot dismantle entrenched systems.On the corporate front, Rotberg insists that businesses must be held to rigorous ethical standards. He critiques the complicity of multinational corporations in corrupt environments and calls for stronger compliance regimes, transparent procurement, and shareholder activism. For Rotberg, corporate integrity is not just good ethics—it’s good economics. Companies that operate cleanly foster trust, attract investment, and contribute to national development.Ultimately, Rotberg sees this triad—citizen activism, digital transparency, and corporate responsibility—as a dynamic ecosystem. Each element reinforces the other, and together, they can shift the balance of power away from corrupt elites and toward accountable governance.Robert I. Rotberg defines social auditing as a participatory mechanism through which citizens evaluate the performance, integrity, and transparency of public institutions. Unlike traditional financial audits conducted by state agencies or external firms, social audits are grassroots-driven. They involve communities directly inspecting government projects, budgets, and service delivery—asking not only “where did the money go?” but also “did it serve its purpose?”Rotberg sees social auditing as a democratic tool that empowers ordinary people to hold officials accountable. Its purpose is to bridge the gap between policy and lived experience, ensuring that public funds translate into real benefits. Social audits can uncover inefficiencies, expose corruption, and create pressure for reform. They also foster civic engagement, build trust, and encourage a culture of transparency from the bottom up.For Rotberg, the greatest benefit of social auditing is its ability to shift power dynamics. When citizens become auditors, they are no longer passive recipients of governance—they become active monitors. This transformation, he argues, is essential for sustainable anti-corruption efforts. Social auditing is not just about checking receipts; it’s about reclaiming ownership of public life.In Chapter X, Curing Corruption: Lessons, Methods, and Best Practices, Rotberg synthesises the insights from previous chapters into a pragmatic roadmap for reform. He argues that corruption is not an incurable disease—it is a political and social condition that can be reversed through deliberate, sustained effort. Rotberg insists that successful anti-corruption campaigns are never accidental; they are built on leadership, law, institutions, and citizen mobilisation.He draws lessons from countries that have made measurable progress, highlighting the importance of sequencing reforms, protecting whistleblowers, and ensuring that anti-corruption bodies remain independent. Rotberg is particularly attentive to context: what works in one country may not work in another, but the principles of transparency, accountability, and integrity are universal. He advocates for a multi-pronged strategy—combining top-down political will with bottom-up civic pressure, legal reform with cultural change.Rotberg also warns against superficial fixes. He critiques governments that adopt flashy anti-corruption slogans or cosmetic legislation without enforcing them. For him, best practices are not about appearances—they are about results. He champions approaches that are locally grounded, empirically tested, and morally anchored. Ultimately, Rotberg’s vision of curing corruption is not utopian—it is strategic, incremental, and rooted in the belief that integrity can be institutionalised.Rotberg weaves together the final threads of his anti-corruption framework, focusing on four interlinked pillars: Laws and Investigations, Bureaucratic Pathology, Political Leadership, Uncompromising Approaches, and The Final Battle. Each concept builds upon the other, forming a strategic arc from diagnosis to cure.He begins with Laws and Investigations, asserting that legal frameworks and investigative powers are essential but often undercut by weak enforcement. Laws must be clear, actionable, and backed by institutions that are empowered to pursue wrongdoing without fear. Yet, Rotberg warns, laws alone cannot cure corruption if the machinery that enforces them is broken.This leads to A Bureaucratic Pathology, where Rotberg diagnoses the deeper illness within state institutions: a culture of complicity, inertia, and transactional governance. Bureaucracies, he argues, often become breeding grounds for corruption when rules are bent for favours, promotions are traded, and silence is rewarded. Reforming laws without reforming bureaucratic behaviour is like treating symptoms without addressing the disease.To break this cycle, Rotberg turns to Political Leadership. He insists that courageous, principled leadership is the catalyst for systemic change. Leaders must not only endorse reform but embody it—refusing to shield allies, empowering watchdogs, and setting moral standards. Without political will, even the most sophisticated laws and clean institutions will be rendered toothless.Then comes Uncompromising Approaches, Rotberg’s call for boldness. He argues that half-measures and cosmetic reforms only entrench corruption further. What’s needed is a refusal to negotiate with impunity—a readiness to prosecute, expose, and restructure without fear of backlash. This approach, he notes, may be politically costly, but it is morally necessary.Finally, The Final Battle is not a dramatic showdown, but a sustained campaign. Rotberg frames it as a long-term struggle to institutionalise integrity, protect reformers, and embed transparency into the DNA of governance. It’s not about winning once—it’s about not giving up. The battle against corruption, he concludes, is never truly over, but it can be won incrementally, through relentless pressure and principled resistance.Together, these five elements form a coherent strategy: laws provide the tools, bureaucracy reveals the terrain, leadership lights the path, boldness clears the obstacles, and persistence carries the mission forward.Rotberg begins his anticorruption programme with the call for transformative political leadership. He argues that no reform can succeed without a leader who embodies integrity and is willing to confront entrenched interests. This kind of leadership sets the tone for the entire system, signalling that corruption will no longer be tolerated.Next, he emphasises the need for strong laws and regulations that are clear, enforceable, and designed to close loopholes. These laws must be backed by independent investigative commissions—institutions with the autonomy and resources to pursue wrongdoing without political interference.Rotberg then turns to judicial reform, insisting that courts must be impartial, efficient, and protected from executive manipulation. A clean judiciary is essential for prosecuting corrupt actors and upholding the rule of law.He also highlights the importance of civil society mobilisation. Citizens must be empowered to report corruption, monitor public services, and demand accountability. This is closely tied to media freedom, which Rotberg sees as a watchdog that exposes abuse and amplifies civic voices.To support these efforts, Rotberg calls for transparency in public procurement, ensuring that contracts are awarded fairly and openly. He also advocates for whistleblower protection, arguing that insiders must be shielded from retaliation if they expose misconduct.Rotberg includes corporate accountability in his programme, urging businesses to adopt ethical standards and compliance regimes. He believes that clean governance must extend beyond the public sector into the private realm.He further recommends education reform, integrating ethics and civic responsibility into school curricula to cultivate a culture of integrity from a young age. This complements his call for digital tools and e-governance, which can reduce opportunities for bribery and increase public access to information.Rotberg emphasises the importance of international cooperation, particularly in tracing illicit financial flows and recovering stolen assets. He also urges performance-based incentives for public officials, rewarding integrity and discouraging rent-seeking behaviour.Finally, he concludes with the importance of monitoring and evaluation, arguing that anticorruption programmes must be regularly assessed and adjusted to remain effective.Together, these fourteen components form a dynamic, interdependent system. Leadership drives reform; laws empower institutions; civil society and media sustain pressure; education and technology shift norms; and oversight ensures progress. Rotberg’s programme is not a checklist—it’s a choreography of courage, structure, and sustained engagement.Nicholas Shaxson’s Treasure Islands (2011, Palgrave-Macmillan) reveals a profound and often overlooked relationship between offshore finance and corruption. While corruption is typically imagined as bribery or embezzlement within national borders, Shaxson shows that the real machinery of graft operates transnationally—through tax havens, secrecy jurisdictions, and offshore banking networks. These financial shadows do not merely hide stolen wealth; they enable its creation, movement, and protection.
We will continue discussing this book in the next section.
[Part 2]
