During the inauguration of the newly revitalised Tanah Abang Station in Jakarta, President Prabowo addressed the ongoing concerns surrounding the high-speed rail project Whoosh (Jakarta–Bandung line). He said that the nation should not worry about the finances of the project, declaring that he had reviewed the matter and would take full responsibility for any obligations. He urged the public and all stakeholders not to politicise the matter, emphasising that the project is part of the government’s commitment to public service rather than mere profit-making. With a firm tone, he stated: “Kemudian tak usah khawatir apa itu ribut-ribut Whoosh. Saya sudah pelajari masalahnya. Tidak ada masalah, saya tanggung jawab nanti Whoosh itu semuanya.” [Then don't worry about the Whoosh fuss. I've looked into the matter. There's no problem, I'll take responsibility for all of Whoosh.]President Prabowo’s statement regarding the Whoosh high‑speed rail project appears to carry multiple layers of meaning. On one level, he is clearly seeking to reassure the public that the financial responsibility for the project — including its reported Rp 116 trillion debt — rests with his administration, not with ordinary citizens or the budgetary burdens of state institutions. In saying “I will take responsibility … don’t worry … I’ve studied the issue,” he seems to step into the role of guarantor, thereby seeking to assume ownership of a legacy project initiated by his predecessor. At the same time, his insistence that the matter should not be “politicised” and that the nation should not “dance to someone else’s tune” signals a strategic intent to discourage opposition or criticism from framing the project as a liability. In effect, Prabowo is likely trying to both calm public anxiety and control the narrative around Whoosh: to legitimise it as a public service endeavour rather than a commercial failure, and to reposition responsibility under his watch rather than simply allow it to become a symbol of past government shortcomings.Importantly, this does not necessarily mean that the operational responsibility for Whoosh formally transfers from Joko Widodo to Prabowo — large projects generally involve many stakeholders, contracts, and international financing. Yet in practical terms, the President is signalling that ultimate accountability and risk management now lie with his office. From a policy perspective, this helps to stabilise the project, reduce uncertainty for investors and partners, and align Whoosh with his broader agenda of service‑oriented infrastructure and national prestige.In short, the President’s message is three‑fold: we’ve got the resources, we’ve got a plan, we’ve got the will — and now let’s move past finger‑pointing. The aim is to shift the focus from debt discussion and blame to national capability, technological progress, and the moral obligation of the state to deliver.However, tt is indeed reasonable to argue that, for the sake of public trust and social justice, a transparent investigation into the Whoosh high-speed rail project should be conducted, even though President Prabowo has publicly stated that he will assume responsibility and urged the public not to politicise the issue. Transparency is crucial because the project involves massive public investment, international financing, and a reported debt of trillions of rupiah. Without independent scrutiny, the public cannot verify whether the financial management, procurement, and contractual obligations have been handled properly, which weakens accountability and potentially undermines social justice by placing ordinary citizens at indirect risk.At the same time, the current political reality suggests that the likelihood of such an investigation occurring is low. Governmental and institutional incentives often favour narrative control and public reassurance over full disclosure. This means that, although ethically and socially it would be proper to examine Whoosh’s financials and project management rigorously, practically speaking, the public might have to rely on limited information and official statements. In effect, the gap between what is socially just — full accountability, fairness, and transparency — and what is politically feasible remains wide, highlighting a challenge in balancing state-led infrastructure ambitions with citizen oversight.If the Whoosh high-speed rail project continues to operate without independent investigation or legal oversight, there are several potential psychological and social consequences for the public. Psychologically, citizens may experience anxiety, frustration, and cynicism, as they are repeatedly asked to trust official statements without tangible proof or accountability. The perception that the state’s massive financial obligations are being managed behind closed doors can foster a sense of powerlessness, eroding faith in both political leadership and public institutions. This lack of transparency may also create a cognitive dissonance among the public: people recognise the need for infrastructure development, yet simultaneously feel excluded from evaluating whether these projects are implemented fairly and efficiently.Socially, the implications extend beyond individual feelings to collective behaviour and civic norms. Continuous absence of legal scrutiny may normalise the idea that powerful actors are above the law, weakening principles of equality and meritocracy. Citizens may become more tolerant of opaque governance, accepting official reassurances without critical evaluation, which can lead to disengagement from political participation and public debate. In the long term, this environment risks entrenching social inequality, as communities that rely on fair allocation of resources see disproportionate benefits accruing to elites or politically connected actors. Moreover, the gap between social expectations of justice and the lived reality of governance may fuel resentment, protest movements, or widespread apathy, depending on how civil society mobilises in response.Ignoring proper oversight not only affects public confidence in the Whoosh project itself, but also undermines the broader social contract, weakening citizens’ trust in the state’s ability to manage collective resources responsibly. Without corrective action, this could perpetuate a cycle where public scepticism becomes the default attitude toward infrastructure projects, investment, and governance at large.President Prabowo’s statement that the Whoosh high-speed rail project should not be evaluated in terms of profit and loss, but rather in terms of the public benefit, aligns with the concept of Public Service Obligation (PSO), which is common in transport policy worldwide. Under a PSO framework, certain essential services are maintained not because they generate profit, but because they provide social, economic, and environmental benefits to the population, such as faster travel, reduced traffic congestion, and regional economic development.However, the operational reality of Whoosh involves a B2B model, with contracts, service agreements, and payments from corporate or governmental partners, which introduces commercial elements. This raises a tension between the non-profit ideal that Prabowo emphasises and the practical need to ensure financial sustainability. Even if the primary objective is public service, infrastructure projects of this magnitude require complex funding mechanisms, often including revenue from business agreements, private investors, or public-private partnerships. In this sense, the B2B framework does not necessarily contradict the non-profit mission but functions as a tool to guarantee the project’s financial and operational viability, ensuring it can deliver public benefits without relying solely on state budgets.Therefore, while Whoosh is conceptually a non-profit, public service-oriented project, the use of B2B agreements is a pragmatic compromise. It reflects the reality that large infrastructure projects must navigate financial, contractual, and operational constraints while aiming to provide social benefits, which is consistent with global practices in high-speed rail systems. Ultimately, the success of Whoosh depends on balancing public interest with fiscal responsibility, ensuring that the service remains accessible and beneficial to the broader population.The suspicion of mens rea—the presence of a deliberate or conscious wrongdoing—may justifiably begin with the contradiction between the proclaimed non-profit intention of the Whoosh project and the decision to structure it through a Business-to-Business (B2B) arrangement. In principle, a B2B model implies a commercial relationship: contracts based on profit expectations, risk-sharing, and corporate returns. Therefore, when a government project is simultaneously framed as non-profit yet executed via B2B mechanisms, it naturally raises questions about the true underlying intent. Was the B2B model used to distance the project from public scrutiny and parliamentary oversight? Was it a way to bypass state financial accountability under the guise of “efficiency”?This tension opens the door to legitimate suspicion that the rhetoric of “public benefit” might be masking private gains or hidden obligations. If the project were genuinely non-profit, the logical structure would be state-funded or at least publicly accountable—where profits are irrelevant because the focus is purely on service. But in B2B, the very essence is profit-sharing, even if labelled otherwise. Thus, invoking non-profit ideals within a profit-oriented framework becomes an ethical paradox, or worse, a deliberate attempt to obscure who truly benefits.To put it bluntly, when a project claims moral virtue yet functions through corporate contracts, the moral claim itself becomes suspect. The contradiction doesn’t automatically prove guilt, but it provides a rational basis for investigation — especially in a nation still grappling with blurred lines between state duty and political business interests.From a legal and moral standpoint, the notion of mens rea in a project such as Whoosh must be examined not merely in the narrow criminal sense—that is, whether someone intentionally broke the law—but within the broader framework of public accountability and ethical governance. In Indonesia, the concept of mens rea may take on a subtler form: not always direct criminal intent, but wilful negligence, deliberate concealment, or reckless disregard for financial transparency. When a public project uses a B2B model under a declared non-profit motive, it becomes essential to ask: who designed the structure, who approved it, and who stood to benefit from it—not only financially, but politically and reputationally.Legally, establishing mens rea would require showing that decisions were made knowingly against public interest, for instance, by using B2B to obscure debt obligations, manipulate valuations, or create a system that benefits select entities under the banner of efficiency. This would cross the boundary from policy error to ethical misconduct, and potentially to criminal breach if intent and benefit can be demonstrated. From a moral angle, even if no law was broken, the ethical breach remains profound—because the spirit of public service demands openness and fairness, especially when vast sums of public money or national reputation are involved.In the Indonesian context, such ambiguity—where “policy choices” blur into “private advantage”—has historically led to deep distrust among citizens. When leaders defend such projects as “for the people” while details remain hidden, it corrodes the foundation of social justice itself. The moral imperative, therefore, is to ensure that non-profit claims are backed by transparent mechanisms, not rhetoric. True integrity requires that motives align with methods; otherwise, the very architecture of governance becomes complicit in deception.For President Prabowo’s statement—that public transport projects around the world should not be judged by profit and loss, but by their benefits to the people — to stand as a fair and credible policy principle rather than a convenient political justification, several fundamental conditions must be met. First, transparency must be absolute. Every stage of planning, procurement, and operation should be open to public scrutiny, ensuring that “benefit for the people” is not used as a rhetorical shield for inefficiency, corruption, or political favouritism. Second, the definition of benefit must be quantifiable and measurable: reduced congestion, lower carbon emissions, accessibility for low-income communities, and long-term economic integration — all must be tracked, published, and evaluated by independent institutions.Third, there must be accountability mechanisms in place. If a project fails to deliver its promised benefits, those responsible—whether state officials or corporate partners—must be answerable to the public and the law. Without this, the concept of “benefit over profit” becomes a dangerous loophole, allowing massive spending without consequence. Fourth, financial sustainability cannot be ignored; even if profit is not the goal, the ability of a project to maintain operations without draining national resources is essential for fairness across generations. Lastly, public participation should be embedded in the policy process. The people, whose taxes or daily lives are affected, must have a voice in determining whether a transport project truly serves them.In essence, President Prabowo’s sentiment carries a noble spirit—that governance should prioritise human welfare over financial calculation. But for it to be morally defensible and politically sustainable, it requires a disciplined framework of transparency, accountability, and measurable outcomes. Otherwise, it risks becoming another populist mantra — emotionally resonant, yet fiscally reckless.President Prabowo has frequently found himself "caught in the crossfire" of the consequences stemming from former President Jokowi’s decisions and projects, such as the Whoosh high-speed rail and other high-profile infrastructure initiatives. Nevertheless, if President Prabowo can manage these challenges with prudence, transparency, and strategic foresight, he could strengthen his reputation as a capable and responsible leader, demonstrating the ability to balance national development with social accountability. By addressing inherited complications effectively, he could also reinforce public trust, mitigate political tensions, and show that leadership is about solving problems rather than merely inheriting them.However, if these challenges are mismanaged or handled without sufficient accountability and clear communication, the consequences could be severe: public confidence in his administration might erode, social resentment could rise, and the perception that mega-projects are tools of political theatre rather than public service would be reinforced. In such a scenario, the risks to social justice, financial responsibility, and political credibility would be heightened, potentially leaving citizens feeling disillusioned and excluded from decision-making processes that directly affect their welfare.So let's analyse the Whoosh project and see whether it's worth charging the state budget versus sticking with B2B.The question of whether the Whoosh high-speed rail project should be charged to the Indonesian state budget (APBN) is a complex one, particularly given the Ministry of Finance’s stance under Minister Purbaya, who has explicitly rejected using public funds for the project. If the project continues under a B2B (Business-to-Business) model, financial risk is largely transferred to private or corporate investors, while the government retains a regulatory and oversight role. This approach mitigates direct fiscal exposure, reduces the potential strain on public finances, and ensures that operational and capital costs are shared with entities capable of absorbing financial shocks. The downside is that public scrutiny can become limited if private contracts are opaque, and the state might still face reputational risks if the project fails to deliver promised public benefits.Conversely, if the APBN were used to fund Whoosh, the government would assume direct responsibility for financing the entire project, including construction, operation, and debt service. While this could theoretically guarantee maximum social benefit, ensuring lower fares or broader accessibility, it also exposes public funds to immense risk: project delays, cost overruns, or financial mismanagement could directly impact national budgets, potentially crowding out other essential expenditures such as healthcare, education, and social welfare. Moreover, taxpayers would bear the ultimate burden of any losses, making the political stakes extremely high.In summary, a B2B model preserves fiscal prudence and risk-sharing, but may limit transparency and control over social outcomes. Funding via APBN maximises the potential for public benefit, but places substantial financial, political, and social risks directly on the government and citizens. Any decision must therefore carefully weigh the trade-off between social justice, financial sustainability, and public accountability, recognising that the magnitude of Whoosh as a mega-project magnifies the consequences of either choice.While President Prabowo’s statement emphasises the public service aspect of the Whoosh high-speed rail project, claiming that it should not be evaluated in terms of profit and loss, it oversimplifies the practical realities of large infrastructure projects. Even projects framed as “non-profit” or under Public Service Obligations (PSO) require careful financial management, cost recovery, and operational sustainability. Using a B2B model, engaging corporate partners, and managing contractual obligations all indicate that financial performance cannot be completely ignored. Ignoring profit and loss entirely could lead to inefficient management, budget shortfalls, or delayed delivery of services, which ironically could undermine the very public benefits that the project aims to provide.In short, while the intent is clear—to prioritise social and economic benefits over direct profit—in practice, operational and financial metrics remain essential to ensure the project’s long-term success. Therefore, a more nuanced statement might have been: “Do not let profit dominate our evaluation, but ensure financial and operational accountability to protect public benefit.”Regardless of whether the Whoosh high-speed rail project is framed as a public service or “non-profit,” there is no alternative to fulfilling its financial obligations. This is because the project involves substantial contracts with international partners, suppliers, and investors, particularly from China, whose loans and equity investments come with binding repayment schedules. Failure to meet these obligations would not only damage Indonesia’s financial credibility and creditworthiness but could also trigger legal disputes, penalties, and long-term economic consequences.Furthermore, infrastructure projects of this magnitude require continuous capital injection for construction, operations, and maintenance. Even if the government intends to prioritise social benefit over profit, operational reality dictates that funds must be available to pay workers, maintain rolling stock, manage stations, and service debt. Skipping payments or defaulting would compromise the project itself, potentially halting service before it delivers any benefit to the public.While Whoosh may aim to serve as a public benefit rather than a commercial enterprise, payment obligations are non-negotiable. This is a fundamental principle of project finance: no matter the intent, commitments to creditors and contractual partners must be honoured to maintain credibility, ensure project completion, and uphold national and international trust.The Whoosh high-speed rail project offers several moral lessons for policymakers, citizens, and future generations. For policymakers, it highlights the importance of striking a balance between ambition and responsibility. While visionary infrastructure projects can drive national development, leaders must carefully evaluate financial risk, transparency, and long-term sustainability. Declaring that a project is “non-profit” or focused on public benefit does not remove the ethical obligation to manage funds prudently and honour contractual commitments.For the citizens of Indonesia, Whoosh illustrates the value of public oversight and critical engagement. Citizens are reminded that social trust is earned, not given, and that they play a role in demanding accountability and transparency. Blind faith in political assurances, even from highly respected leaders, carries risks if it is not coupled with active monitoring and informed participation.For the current generation and future Indonesians, Whoosh demonstrates the significance of long-term thinking and collective responsibility. Mega-projects funded by public money or international loans affect multiple generations; mismanagement today can constrain opportunities tomorrow. Learning from such experiences encourages a culture where ambitious projects are pursued with ethical caution, financial discipline, and social consideration.And for society at large, the moral lesson is that public resources are a shared trust. Whether in infrastructure, healthcare, or education, projects meant for public benefit cannot be divorced from accountability, transparency, and ethical governance. Whoosh serves as a reminder that progress is not only measured by speed, technology, or prestige, but also by the fairness, responsibility, and trustworthiness of those who design and execute it.The Whoosh high-speed rail project carries significant implications for Social Justice in Indonesia. Firstly, the allocation of public resources toward a mega-infrastructure project must be weighed against the principle of equitable access and distribution. If financial mismanagement, debt burdens, or operational inefficiencies occur, the social benefits intended for the broader population may not materialise, disproportionately affecting lower-income citizens who rely on state services.Secondly, the public perception of transparency and accountability directly impacts trust in governance, which is a central component of social justice. When citizens see that massive projects are funded with public money or state-backed loans but remain opaque in terms of financial performance, it can foster feelings of inequality, exclusion, and unfair treatment, even if the project is ultimately functional.Thirdly, the Whoosh case highlights the tension between national prestige and citizen welfare. Prioritising high-profile infrastructure to signal modernity or technological advancement can inadvertently sideline investments in healthcare, education, and other social services, raising questions about whether the state is fulfilling its obligation to ensure basic rights and equitable opportunities for all.Finally, from a social justice perspective, projects like Whoosh serve as a litmus test for institutional capacity and ethical governance. Their success or failure demonstrates whether the state can manage large-scale initiatives in a way that is fair, accountable, and beneficial to society at large. Mismanagement or opacity in such projects can deepen structural inequalities and erode public confidence in the equitable distribution of state resources.Citizens of Indonesia should adopt a stance of engaged vigilance toward the Whoosh high-speed rail project. This means recognising both the potential benefits of a modern transport infrastructure and the responsibility to demand transparency, accountability, and prudent financial management. Blind trust or uncritical support may allow mismanagement, debt misallocation, or opaque practices to continue unchecked, which could undermine social justice and public welfare.At the same time, the public should avoid purely politicised reactions, understanding that large infrastructure projects inevitably involve complex financial arrangements and long-term planning. Constructive civic engagement can include monitoring project progress, questioning the cost efficiency, advocating for public disclosure of contracts and financing, and participating in informed public debates.The moral position for citizens is one of active participation without cynicism: supporting national development while insisting on responsible governance. By doing so, Indonesians can contribute to ensuring that Whoosh and similar projects deliver real, equitable benefits to the population rather than merely serving political or corporate interests.Analysing who truly benefits from the Whoosh high-speed rail project requires separating the stated public interest from the practical economic beneficiaries. Officially, the project is framed as a public service aimed at reducing travel time between Jakarta and Bandung, eventually expanding to other regions. In theory, this should benefit the commuting public, business travellers, and the broader economy by improving logistics and regional connectivity. However, the reality of high-speed rail is that ticket prices are often prohibitively high for the majority of Indonesians. Even if subsidies exist, the affordability threshold tends to favour middle- and upper-class citizens, leaving a very small fraction of the population as direct beneficiaries.Meanwhile, the private companies, contractors, and investors involved in building and operating the Whoosh stand to gain the most. Through B2B arrangements, procurement contracts, and potential operational revenue, corporate actors — domestic and international — are positioned to capture the bulk of financial returns. Political actors may also gain reputational benefits, especially if the project is framed as a “modernisation legacy” for current administrations.Quantifying the benefit to the Indonesian population, one might estimate that less than 5% of the population can realistically afford and access the service directly in its first phase. Indirect benefits, such as economic spillovers or improved regional infrastructure, may reach a slightly wider segment, but the proportion of Indonesians experiencing tangible personal gain remains limited. In other words, while Whoosh is advertised as a public asset, its design and cost structure disproportionately favour investors, politicians and affluent citizens, rather than the broader populace.To estimate the proportion of Indonesians who could directly benefit from the Whoosh high-speed rail in its initial Jakarta–Bandung phase, we can make some logical assumptions. The Jakarta–Bandung corridor has an estimated population of roughly 30 million people in the Greater Jakarta and West Java region. The Whoosh trains have a maximum daily capacity of around 10,000 passengers (assuming multiple trips and full occupancy).If we divide 10,000 passengers by 30 million people, the result is approximately 0.03% per day. Even if we assume that each commuter might use the service multiple times per month and allow for operational scaling, the cumulative proportion of people who realistically benefit remains under 5% of the population in the early stages. The majority of Indonesians—including low-income groups, remote communities, and rural residents—will not access the train due to cost, location, and connectivity constraints.In other words, while the Whoosh project is marketed as a public asset, the direct beneficiaries are a small fraction of the population, mainly middle- and upper-class urban commuters. Broader social benefits, such as regional economic spillovers or reduced congestion, are indirect and diffuse, and they are unlikely to be felt evenly across society. Therefore, the claim of “benefit for the people” should be critically evaluated in light of actual access and affordability, not just the symbolic or aspirational rhetoric.The idea of extending the Whoosh high-speed rail all the way to Surabaya—or even Banyuwangi—may sound visionary on paper. Still, in practice, it is a delicate balance between ambition and absurdity. From a purely technical and economic standpoint, such an extension is feasible only if several fundamental conditions are met: consistent passenger demand, sustainable financing, and a credible cost–benefit ratio that justifies the immense investment. However, given the current utilisation rate of the Jakarta–Bandung route and the controversy surrounding its financial structure, pushing the project further east risks transforming a development dream into an expensive political spectacle.Politically, the rhetoric of expanding Whoosh might serve as a symbolic continuation of “modernisation” — a legacy narrative linking two presidencies. Yet if the initial phase still struggles to demonstrate financial and operational stability, talking about Banyuwangi becomes almost satirical. It mirrors a national tendency to chase grandeur over governance, where the illusion of progress overshadows questions of accountability, transparency, and long-term viability. The satire here writes itself: a train that runs faster than the economy that sustains it.From an analytical standpoint, the feasibility of extending the Whoosh project to Surabaya or even Banyuwangi can be examined through two distinct lenses—realistic feasibility and political feasibility. The difference between them reveals not only how infrastructure is planned in Indonesia, but also how it is performed.Realistic feasibility refers to whether the project makes sense in terms of economic logic, environmental impact, and social return. A Jakarta–Surabaya–Banyuwangi route would demand astronomical capital, continuous subsidies, and a guaranteed passenger volume that, as of now, does not exist. The high-speed rail network in its current phase—Jakarta to Bandung—still struggles to prove profitability or even operational stability. Without strong demand from middle-class commuters, efficient intermodal connections, and transparent financing, expanding further would not only be economically reckless but also socially irresponsible. It risks diverting resources from sectors far more urgent—education, healthcare, and food security—which are the true engines of equitable development.Political feasibility, however, is a different story. In the theatre of statecraft, a mega-project does not need to be profitable — it only needs to be visible. It becomes a monument of leadership, a photo opportunity that cements legacies and distracts from administrative stagnation. The idea of Whoosh reaching Banyuwangi might not be driven by transportation needs, but by symbolic politics: to demonstrate continuity, modernity, and “visionary governance,” even if it bleeds the budget. It’s a political high-speed race to be remembered — not necessarily to arrive.The contrast between the two feasibilities paints a familiar picture: one Indonesia that dreams, and another that pays. The satire writes itself — the further the track extends, the deeper the fiscal hole becomes. If ambition outruns accountability, the Whoosh might become not a symbol of progress, but a cautionary tale of how speed, when detached from purpose, derails justice itself.So, while extending the Whoosh is technically possible, doing so under the same opaque financial and managerial conditions risks compounding the mistakes of the first phase. A visionary idea becomes farce when the ambition to impress outweighs the commitment to sustain. If Indonesia truly wants a high-speed future, it must first ensure the foundations are high in integrity — not just in speed.
In conclusion, Social Justice is not merely an abstract ideal or a slogan to decorate policy speeches; it is a tangible commitment to ensuring that every individual — regardless of class, income, or background — has equitable access to rights, resources, and opportunities. True social justice demands transparency, accountability, and fairness in governance, so that the benefits of economic growth, infrastructure, and public services are shared broadly rather than captured by a privileged few. It is both a moral compass and a practical guide: a society that invests in justice for all fosters stability, dignity, and human flourishing. Without such a commitment, disparities deepen, trust erodes, and the promise of equality remains a distant aspiration rather than a lived reality.[Part 1]
[Part 6]
