[Part 4]In The Oxford Handbook of Public Accountability (2014), edited by Mark Bovens, Robert E. Goodin, and Thomas Schillemans, “accountability” is defined as a relationship between an actor and a forum, in which the actor has an obligation to explain and justify their conduct, and the forum has the right to pose questions, to judge, and to impose consequences. It is essentially a mechanism of answerability and enforcement, ensuring that power-holders are held responsible for their actions and decisions. Bovens and his co-editors describe accountability not merely as an administrative or legal procedure, but as a cornerstone of democratic governance that reinforces transparency, trust, and legitimacy. It serves as both a moral and institutional bridge between those who exercise authority and those who are affected by it.The editors and contributors use several vivid anecdotes to illustrate how accountability operates in real-world governance. One memorable example concerns the financial scandals surrounding the European Commission in the late 1990s, when the entire Commission, led by Jacques Santer, was forced to resign after being held collectively accountable for cases of mismanagement and fraud. This episode demonstrates how accountability can function as a political instrument that demands institutional self-correction.Another anecdote explored in the book focuses on the British parliamentary tradition, where ministers must answer directly to Parliament for the actions of their departments. The famous case of the “Profumo Affair” in the 1960s—in which Secretary of State for War John Profumo resigned after misleading Parliament about his personal conduct—serves as a classic embodiment of political accountability grounded in honesty and public trust.The work also recalls cases from the corporate and non-governmental sectors, such as the Enron scandal, where the absence of accountability mechanisms led to catastrophic financial collapse and public outrage. These anecdotes collectively show that accountability is not an abstract principle but a lived practice that demands transparency, moral courage, and consequences across all spheres of power—whether governmental, corporate, or civic.Mark Bovens explains that the modern concept of accountability has deep roots in both legal and political traditions dating back to the emergence of representative government in Europe. The term itself gained strong normative and institutional meaning during the Enlightenment, especially in Britain and the Netherlands, where the rise of parliamentary democracy demanded that rulers justify their actions to the governed.The work highlights how the idea of accountability began as a financial concept—the literal obligation to “account” for the management of public funds—before expanding into moral, administrative, and democratic dimensions. This evolution accelerated in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, as thinkers such as John Locke and Montesquieu championed the idea that power must always be answerable to the people. The spread of constitutionalism and liberal democracy in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries then transformed accountability into a foundational principle of modern governance, deeply embedding it in public administration, international organisations, and even corporate ethics.In several chapters, particularly those on accountable officials, public administration ethics, and ministerial responsibility, the book emphasises that accountability in democratic governance extends beyond the mere outcomes of policy. It includes the personal conduct of officials whenever that behaviour has implications for public trust, integrity, or the legitimacy of their office. The editors argue that public accountability is not just about “what you decide” but also “how you behave” while holding authority.They illustrate that the personal and professional spheres of a public official cannot be entirely separated when one’s private actions compromise the credibility or moral standing of the office. For instance, a minister’s private misuse of power, involvement in corruption, or even behaviour that damages the perceived impartiality of governance, all become legitimate grounds for public scrutiny. The book draws on classical Westminster traditions, such as ministerial responsibility, where resignation is expected not only for administrative failure but also for personal misconduct that erodes public confidence.This broader interpretation of accountability highlights a moral dimension: holding office is a fiduciary trust, not a private entitlement. Therefore, integrity and propriety are intrinsic to public responsibility. The editors warn, however, that there must be a balance — not every private mistake should trigger public outrage — but when private conduct intersects with the duties, image, or credibility of public service, accountability rightly applies.Accountability is the cornerstone of legitimate and effective governance. Bovens, Goodin, and Schillemans emphasise that holding actors—whether ministers, civil servants, networks, citizens, or international organisations—responsible for their actions is not merely a bureaucratic or legalistic exercise, but a complex moral, political, and institutional practice. Accountability ensures that power is exercised responsibly, transparently, and in line with democratic or public expectations.The book stresses several key points: first, that accountability is multidimensional, covering outcomes, processes, and personal conduct; second, that it requires clear responsibilities, forums for answerability, and mechanisms for sanction; third, that governance is increasingly complex — networked, multilevel, and transnational — which challenges traditional hierarchical models; and fourth, that effective accountability depends on a culture of answerability, public engagement, and ethical standards, not just formal rules.Accountability is not optional but fundamental: it is the bridge between authority and legitimacy, between power and trust. Without accountability, governance risks becoming opaque, unresponsive, and morally hollow."Corruption, Accountability, and Discretion" by Nancy S. Lind and Cara E. Rabe-Hemp (2017, Emerald Publishing Limited) explores the intricate relationship between the discretionary power granted to public officials and the mechanisms of accountability necessary to prevent corruption. Lind and Rabe‑Hemp argue that discretion—the freedom to make decisions without rigid procedural constraints — is an essential feature of modern governance, allowing officials to act efficiently and adaptively. However, when such discretion is not accompanied by effective accountability, the risk of corruption rises sharply. The authors emphasise that accountability is not limited to formal audits or bureaucratic reporting but also involves public oversight, transparency, and a culture that expects accountability from those in positions of power.The work also addresses the moral dimension of accountability, explaining that officials’ personal conduct matters whenever it intersects with their public responsibilities. Discretion misused for private gain or for actions that undermine the integrity or credibility of the office constitutes a breach of public trust. In this sense, the authors align closely with the argument found in The Oxford Handbook of Public Accountability: accountability extends beyond policy outcomes to include behaviour, ethics, and the responsible exercise of power. The overarching message is that without accountability mechanisms, discretionary power can become a pathway to corruption, eroding both institutional legitimacy and public confidence.Discretionary power in public service, while necessary for efficient and adaptive governance, carries inherent risks if it is not paired with robust accountability mechanisms. The authors argue that accountability is essential not only to prevent corruption but also to maintain public trust and the legitimacy of institutions. They emphasise that accountability encompasses formal procedures like audits and reporting, but also moral, ethical, and cultural dimensions, including transparency, public scrutiny, and a culture of answerability.Moreover, Lind and Rabe‑Hemp stress that accountability extends beyond policy outcomes to include the personal conduct of officials whenever their behaviour intersects with their public duties. Misuse of discretion for private gain or actions that undermine the integrity of the office represent a breach of public trust. The overarching message is clear: discretionary authority without accountability can easily become a pathway to corruption, eroding both institutional legitimacy and citizen confidence, whereas well‑designed accountability systems transform discretionary power into a force for responsible and ethical governance.Citizens have a legitimate role in scrutinising the behaviour of public officials when their discretionary decisions or actions (including those tied to personal interest) impinge on public trust, governance, fairness, or transparency. In other words, when private conduct of officials results in corrupt or unethical outcomes—such as favouring relatives, campaign improprieties, misuse of office, or undisclosed conflicts of interest—then public criticism is part of the accountability chain.
On the other hand, because the book focuses on discretion, accountability frameworks, and corrupt decision‑making, rather than on purely personal behaviour disconnected from public duty, it suggests that critics should concentrate on how the conduct of officials affects the public sphere (decisions, policies, fairness) rather than simply on private lifestyle as such. Critique is justified when private acts overlap with official authority or discretionary power; less so when they remain strictly personal and wholly unconnected to public responsibilities.
Honest Government: An Ethics Guide for Public Service (1992, Praeger) by W. J. Michael Cody and R. Lynn offers a practical guide to ethical behaviour for public officials at all levels, including attention to the “private lives of public officials” and how these intersect with their public duties. The authors examine everyday scenarios of public service, such as campaign finance, use of public office, and the revolving door between public and private sectors. A relevant case‑type scenario would be when an elected official leverages public office not just for official duties but for their personal benefit (for example, awarding contracts that favour their family members). Though the book does not focus on one single scandal, its structure is rich with “ripped‑from‑the‑headlines” examples.Cody and Lynn argue that public servants must recognise that their private lives are not wholly private, because the public interest and the trust placed in them render their personal conduct relevant to their official responsibilities. They emphasise that an official’s lifestyle – including how they and their family live, the benefits they enjoy, the relationships they maintain, and the use of their office for personal advantage – must reflect the principles of integrity, self‑restraint and accountability. The authors maintain that even when no laws are broken, if a public servant displays lavish or preferential treatment for themselves or their relatives, uses their official position for private benefit, or fails to avoid conflicts of interest, they undermine public confidence and the ethic of public service. They further note that officials should avoid allowing their families to use their position or visibility to secure benefits or privileges merely by virtue of that position, since family‐linked advantages blur the boundary between public duty and private gain. In short, the book advises that public servants should adopt modest and transparent lifestyles, avoid even the appearance of impropriety in how they or their family members benefit from their office, and always keep the public interest ahead of any private or familial advantage.Public officials occupy a space where the line between private life and public responsibility is intentionally thin. They argue that citizens are justified in scrutinising the private conduct of public officials to the extent that it affects public trust, ethical behaviour, or the performance of official duties. In other words, criticism is warranted if a politician’s personal actions—such as extravagant lifestyles, nepotism, or misuse of office for family benefit—undermine the integrity of their office or create a perception of impropriety. Cody and Lynn emphasise that public confidence is a cornerstone of effective governance, so personal behaviour that risks that confidence legitimately invites public attention and critique. However, purely personal matters that do not touch on public duty or ethical obligations are generally considered beyond the proper scope of civic criticism.In Cody and Lynn’s view, the boundary between what citizens may legitimately critique and what they should leave alone hinges on whether a public official’s private behaviour bears on their public role or undermines public trust. If an official engages in extravagant spending that clearly exceeds their lawful income, uses their position to grant favours to relatives, or allows their family to benefit from their office in ways that create a perception of impropriety, such actions are open to public scrutiny and criticism. These behaviours are not merely personal; they touch the ethical and functional obligations of the office, and the public has a right to question them because they directly affect governance and integrity. Conversely, purely personal matters that do not influence official duties—such as an official’s private hobbies, personal friendships, or fashion choices—fall outside the proper domain of public evaluation. In these areas, citizens should refrain from criticism, recognising that everyone is entitled to some private sphere free from civic judgment. The key principle, according to Cody and Lynn, is that the legitimacy of critique is measured by the impact of personal conduct on public trust and the capacity of the official to discharge their responsibilities ethically and effectively.Corruption and Misuse of Public Office (Oxford University Press, 2024, 4th edn) by Colin Nicholls et al. is a detailed legal and ethical analysis of how public officials misuse their office and how that misuse often ties into their personal conduct, assets, and privileges. For example, it covers matters like asset recovery from “kleptocrats” and situations where officials use public office for private gain — which may include family members benefitting from those gains. These case studies include investigations and legal proceedings against public officials who have mixed their private interests with public duties.When a public official allows his or her private interests, or those of family members, to intersect with official responsibilities in a way that yields improper advantage, the book emphasises that this behaviour undermines the very foundations of trust and accountability in public office. It argues that such practices distort the distributive fairness of public resources, create hidden privileges that hinder transparent governance, and encourage a culture of discretion abused rather than discretion responsibly exercised. The result is that the official’s conduct becomes symptomatic of corruption: the misuse of entrusted power for private gain. The book further indicates that this not only harms the immediate integrity of the office‐holder, but propagates institutional decay: it weakens mechanisms of oversight, erodes the rule of law, saps public confidence, and ultimately jeopardises effective service delivery and sustainable development. In short, the merging of private benefit and public duty in this way damages both the officer and the system of public service itself.In the Indonesian case, where Minister of Energy and Mineral Resources, Bahlil Lahadalia, was the subject of memes and impending legal reports from a youth wing of his party, what emerges is a complex intersection of private and public life, freedom of expression, and the accountability of public officials. From the standpoint of W. J. Michael Cody & R. Lynn, in Honest Government: An Ethics Guide for Public Service, the crucial question would be whether the memes or the reports concern the official’s public conduct (policy decisions, use of office) or merely his private life. Cody and Lynn would likely say that criticism of public policy is entirely legitimate; indeed, it forms part of the public trust and duty of a public servant. But criticism of purely private behaviour that has no bearing on the official’s duty might be beyond the proper scope of civic commentary. In this instance, since the minister himself says that “critique of policy is okay” whilst objections arise when the content “goes personal” or “racial”, the guidance of Cody and Lynn would incline towards saying: the public has a right to critique public policy and public‐duty behaviour, but must avoid personal, non‑public behaviour that is unrelated to the office.Next, using the perspective of Nancy S. Lind & Cara E. Rabe‑Hemp in Corruption, Accountability and Discretion, the case would be seen through the lens of discretion, misuse of power, and accountability mechanisms. The focus would shift to whether the memes or the legal threats relate to the minister’s discretionary powers—for instance, whether his family or private interests benefit from his public office—or whether the attempt to suppress memes is an attempt to avoid public accountability. In this light, Lind & Rabe‑Hemp would consider any attempt to use legal action or party machinery to silence criticism of public policy or to intimidate critics as problematic for accountability and transparency. Thus in this case, the fact that the youth wing of the party threatens reporting of meme‑makers may raise a red flag: is this an attempt to avoid scrutiny of the minister’s policy conduct? In short, from their view, critique of public officials is legitimate, especially when discretion or public resources might be at stake, and efforts to suppress such critique undermine accountability.Moving on to the framework of Colin Nicholls et al in Corruption and Misuse of Public Office–here the concern is sharper still. According to their analysis, when a public official mixes the private and the public in an unhealthy manner, or allows family to benefit from the public office, then the trust and integrity of the office are damaged. While the meme case per se may not directly show family‐benefit issues (based on the publicly available information), any attempt to curtail critical public commentary by threat of legal or party sanctions could be seen as symptomatic of the official’s inability or unwillingness to maintain a transparent distance between his private standing and his public role. In the minister’s context, his statement—“critique of policy is fine, private or racist content is not”—suggests he recognises a difference between public policy critique and personal attack. But the threat of reporting meme‑makers means the boundary is perhaps hazy: if memes criticise his policy and he or his supporters treat that as “personal”, then it may suppress legitimate public scrutiny. Nicholls et al would likely caution that the public servant must not only act with propriety but also allow mechanisms of accountability and public commentary to function without undue suppression.Finally, applying the conceptual framework of Mark Bovens (see The Oxford Handbook of Public Accountability, Oxford University Press, 2014) we can reflect on the accountability‐forum relationship: Bovens defines accountability as “a relationship between an actor and a forum, in which the actor has an obligation to explain and justify his or her conduct, the forum can pose questions and pass judgement, and the actor may face consequences.” In the present case, the ‘forum’ includes the media, civil society, social media users, and arguably the youth wing of the party. The minister as actor holds public office and thus has duty to be answerable. When memes mock or critique his policy, that is part of the forum’s right to pose questions. When reporting or legal threats are deployed to silence that forum, the accountability relationship may be distorted: the minister may be shielded from legitimate questioning. Bovens would point out the risk of accountability “deficit” or even the “accountability trap” (where actors appear to comply but in fact avoid real scrutiny). Hence, the case underscores that public officials must maintain open channels for critique of their public role, and forums (citizens, media) must be free to question both policy and conduct of those officials—even if that includes visible memes—so long as the critique is informed and not merely defamatory.From a legal perspective in Indonesia, recent developments suggest that any attempt to use criminal sanctions to suppress legitimate criticism of public officials is increasingly at odds with constitutional norms. For instance, the Constitutional Court of Indonesia has ruled that under the revised Law No. 19 of 2016 on Electronic Information and Transactions (commonly “UU ITE”), defamation provisions may not be employed to penalise criticism directed at government institutions or groups with particular identities — the Court held that the phrase “other persons” in Article 27A must be interpreted restrictively to preserve democratic discourse. In addition, legal commentary highlights that the ITE law’s provisions remain broadly worded and have been criticised for chilling legitimate speech and for being used by state actors in ways that undermine accountability.Ethically, public‐service frameworks demand that officials accept the role of being open to public scrutiny when their actions, policies, or the use of their office affect the public interest. If the memo… or meme in question critiques Minister Bahlil’s policies, such as his energy decisions, the legal precedence and ethical norms suggest such a critique ought to be protected as part of democratic oversight. However, if the meme targets purely his private life, unrelated to his public duty, or uses defamatory content, then there may be justified grounds for response—but even then, heavy‐handed institutional or legal reprisals risk undermining public trust and can be seen as an abuse of discretionary power.Putting both legal and ethical strands together in the Indonesian context, it appears that while the youth wing’s planned reporting of meme creators is legally possible, it is highly questionable in terms of democratic legitimacy when it suppresses commentary on public policy or public office. From an ethical viewpoint, if the minister and his supporters treat criticism of policy as a “personal attack” and respond with legal threats, this can blur the line between an official’s duty and private interest, and may suppress the accountability forum (citizens, media, social media). That suppression is problematic because it weakens the very transparency and responsiveness that public‐service ethics and democratic law demand.The digital records show that under the government of President Joko Widodo, and continuing into the early years of the subsequent administration, Indonesia’s civic space has increasingly been marked by the use of digital laws, cyber‑intimidation, and online harassment targeted at critics, activists, journalists and even ordinary citizens. For example, in February 2021, a commentary in The Jakarta Post described how the Electronic Information and Transactions Law (“ITE Law”) had become “an effective instrument to criminalise critics” of the government. More recently, civil society monitors such as the CIVICUS Monitor report that the ITE law continues to be used to intimidate and prosecute government critics, with at least 393 individuals criminalised between 2013 and 2021 under its broad provisions.In parallel, international human‑rights organisations and media outlets have raised grave concerns about the expanding reach of digital repression. Amnesty International noted that between April 2019 and May 2022, there were at least 328 cases of physical and digital attacks on activists, journalists and academics, with a chilling effect on free expression. In 2025, the Human Rights Watch reported that the climate of threats and physical assaults targeting media and protestors under the current administration pointed to a “chilling effect” on journalism in Indonesia. This also occurred early in President Prabowo's administration in the case of a Tempo journalist. Further arrests followed the "August 2025 Uproar," where hundreds of activists and students were reportedly arrested and are still being held.One notorious example of “digital trial” is documented by the CIVICUS Monitor: a student at Institut Teknologi Bandung (ITB), known only as “SSS,” was arrested in May 2025 after an AI‑generated meme depicted high‑profile national figures in a satirical image. The student was charged under Article 45(1) together with Article 27(1) and Article 51(1) of the ITE law, and faced up to 12 years in prison.The media commentary is similarly focused: for instance, a March 2025 article in The Guardian described how journalists faced grotesque threats (packages containing pig heads or decapitated rats) for their critical coverage, and observed that this trend suggests a broader deterioration of press freedom in the “world’s third‑largest democracy”.Taken altogether, the pattern emerging is one of: first, critics, journalists or citizens posting memes, social‑media commentary or online investigations that challenge official narratives; second, the state or aligned actors responding via legal complaint (often under ITE Law defamation‐type provisions) or digital harassment; third, international observers pointing to a worrying back‑slide in freedom of expression, self‑censorship by media outlets, and weakened accountability.In the specific context of the Bahlil Lahadalia case (the minister under discussion), we see that the plan to report meme‑makers follows a well‑worn trajectory: online criticism → threat of legal action → public debate about whether this is legitimate upholding of reputation or a suppression of dissent. The digital trail in Indonesia shows many prior instances where the latter interpretation has been given greater weight by rights groups and media monitors.Across multiple years in Indonesia, a clear pattern has emerged in which individuals who create, share or are associated with satirical memes or online commentary targeting public figures have faced legal action under the ITE law and related defamation provisions. One noted case involves the former speaker Setya Novanto, who in 2017 reported dozens of social media accounts to police for allegedly defaming him through memes; one young woman was arrested for uploading memes of him and was charged under the ITE law as well as the criminal code. More broadly, scholars have documented that memes and satire circulate widely in Indonesian digital culture, yet the legal framework remains ambiguous. For example, a normative study on the meme phenomenon noted that the ITE law, alongside the copyright and personal data protection regimes, is being used in ways that chill expression by persons whose images are edited into jokes or critical commentary. In 2025, for instance, a student labelled “SSS” was targeted with a possible 12‑year penalty for an AI‑generated meme that depicted senior public figures, prompting condemnation from digital rights organisations that argued such prosecutions violate international standards of free expression. International media, such as The Jakarta Post, have editorialised that political satire is protected speech and must not be automatically criminalised—even when it is offensive—to safeguard democratic discourse. The overarching assessment by rights‑watchers is that Indonesia’s broad and vaguely worded digital speech laws provide the state with extensive discretionary power which can be used to suppress dissent, intimidate critics and create a chilling effect on humour, satire and alternative voices.Thus, in terms of empirical trend, the “database” of meme‑related cases shows repeated arrests, charges under the ITE law, and legal complaints by powerful figures against low‑profile meme creators. International commentary frames these as warning signs for free expression in Indonesia, suggesting the digital sphere is increasingly regulated or policed in ways that reflect political rather than purely legal imperatives.In recent months, data and commentary from civil society and international observers suggest that the situation under the Prabowo administration is not markedly better—and in some respects, may even be more concerning—than what many people recall from the Jokowi years. The government has publicly promised to respect freedom of expression, with Prabowo himself urging ministries and state institutions to embrace public criticism and input. Nonetheless, multiple credible reports point to a rising number of threats, legal actions and digital attacks against journalists, activists and critics of the government’s policies. For example, the rights group CIVICUS Monitor placed Indonesia on its “Watchlist” in 2025, citing accelerating attacks on civic space under Prabowo’s presidency. Similarly, Human Rights Watch documented digital attacks, internet disruptions and intimidation of the media in April 2025, which undermine the notion of an expanded open space for digital expression in this period. Moreover, critics point out that the revocation of a palace correspondent’s credentials in September 2025 after a standard press question—later restored—is unprecedented and indicative of shrinking tolerance for journalistic enquiry. At the same time, a scholarly analysis flags structural issues including increased military involvement in politics, centralisation of power and narrowing of civil liberties under Prabowo’s leadership—not exactly the sign of liberalisation or improved digital freedom.Therefore, while on the surface there may be statements of reform or commitment to openness, the digital record and external assessments do not substantively show a relaxed or improved environment for critics and digital dissent compared to recent years. In short: the idea that “things have changed for the better” in terms of digital‑media freedom under Prabowo is not supported by the bulk of available empirical evidence—if anything, there are signs of stagnation or regression.In the next chapter, we'll be carrying on an analytical overview of the causes behind the current situation in Indonesia, including the question of whether the lack of police reform is a central factor, bi'idhnillah.
[Part 2]
