Further Notes from a Coffee Shop: Direction, Destination, and a Thin Fence
That morning the retired gentleman arrived carrying a crumpled newspaper and a slightly crooked smile. He laid the newspaper on the table and pointed to a headline. I brewed my coffee more slowly than usual, because an admission of error is best accompanied by a bitter drink. The coffee we served yesterday had gone cold, and cold coffee ought to be brewed again, not served once more because the glass is still good.
This is what happened. On Wednesday, 4 November 2026, the Minister-State Secretary offered the view that the alleged wiretapping of the President might already fall into the category of acts leading towards treason, while admitting that the Palace did not yet know the purpose and was awaiting the results of the investigation. On the same day, the Coordinating Minister for Law, Human Rights, Immigration and Corrections stated that there were signs or indications pointing towards an act of treason under Articles 191 to 193 of the National Criminal Code, and that these indications were now being continuously examined by the investigators. The day before, he had still said that the provisions applied concerned wiretapping and the Electronic Information and Transactions Law. He also explained that the treason in question was not aimed at killing the President, but at incapacitating him so that he could not run the government.
As for the penalty, Article 191 is no laughing matter. It states that treason committed with the intent to kill the President, to deprive him of his liberty, or to render him unable to run the government is punishable by death, life imprisonment, or imprisonment of up to twenty years. So, to those who ask whether the death penalty is among the possible penalties, the answer is yes: it is on the list. But note the word that links the three, namely or. The range runs from twenty years to the death penalty, and it is the judge who will later weigh where a person falls, if he is proved guilty, by looking at the evidence, the role played and the criminal intent. A maximum penalty is not a verdict, just as the menu is not the contents of the plate.
The busiest word in this case is not wiretapping but pointing, as in pointing towards. Everyone uses it and everyone seems pleased with it. But our retired gentleman, who once worked in a freight office, reminds us that a car pointing towards Jakarta has not necessarily arrived in Jakarta. Perhaps it has taken a wrong turn, perhaps it is going round in circles, perhaps it has stopped halfway, and perhaps it really is heading there and merely awaits proof that its destination is indeed Jakarta. For that reason we distinguish three things that are often mixed up like sandals at the door of a mosque. First, the official suspicion, namely wiretapping without proper procedure, deletion of electronic data and illegal access. Second, the indication, namely the direction currently being examined by the investigators. Third, the verdict, which does not yet exist and can only come from a court. While the process runs, the presumption of innocence applies to anyone with the status of a suspect.
In that conversation, the retired gentleman recalled an old event that people were again discussing. In September 2023, a president told his volunteers that he knew what lay inside the political parties and where they were heading, and that the information he received was complete. Our coffee shop, whose knowledge reaches no deeper than the bottom of a glass, was naturally impressed. A few days later the explanation arrived: these were routine reports from the intelligence agencies, the daily bread of any president, and entirely in keeping with the law. Defenders said that receiving intelligence reports is part of a head of state’s duties. Critics said that the task of intelligence is to analyse threats to the nation, not to peer into the parties’ plans. We nodded at both, for each had a sound point, and it is precisely between those two points that the fence runs thin. There is nothing wrong with holding reports, but reports that grow too keen on looking into other people’s kitchens easily become a habit, and a habit left unsupervised easily becomes a stock of provisions. This satire asks only one simple question: if information that complete belongs to the president alone, who ensures that it remains the property of the state and does not become the property of whoever happens to be in power? The question is not aimed at any individual, and it has nothing to do with the wiretapping case now under investigation, since no evidence connects the two. It is merely a reminder that every ruler, whoever he may be, needs the same fence.
So what should such a fence look like? We, the citizens of the coffee shop, hold no law degrees, but we know what a good fence looks like from the fences around our own houses. It has a clear gate, that is, rules on who may access what and for what purpose. It has a padlock, that is, permission and oversight from an institution that is not the keeper of the key. And it has a visitors’ book, that is, a record that can be examined afterwards by the competent authorities and by the courts. Without these three things, the keys to the house of state depend solely on the goodwill of whoever holds them. And goodwill, as we know from the history of Rome and Seoul alike, is the fastest-rotting building material there is.
As to who stands behind this case, the answer is still awaited. The Minister-State Secretary admits he does not know, the investigators have not revealed the motive, and the politicians keep asking in ever louder voices. When a former president was asked for his response to the case, he was reported to have replied that he respects the legal process. That is an attitude that deserves respect, and may it be held by all parties, from those close to the case to those far from it, from those in power to those awaiting their turn. In our coffee shop nobody dares point a finger, because the nose is an organ that easily loses its bearings unless accompanied by a case file.
As in the previous two parts, we leave one note in the margin of the dictionary. This satire is aimed at the culture of insiders: the habit of treating power as personal property, a network of friends as a state institution, and closeness as immunity. It is not aimed at the President, who needs our support so that this country can run on the right track, and it passes no verdict on anyone, because a coffee shop has only a spoon that clinks against the rim of a glass, not a judge’s gavel.
The coffee in my glass was down to its grounds when that conversation ended. May Allah Subhanahu wa Ta’ala always protect President Prabowo Subianto, keep him healthy and safe, and strengthen him to lead this country with justice and trustworthiness. May this case be handled openly, fairly and in accordance with the law, so that the guilty are punished in due measure, and the people can once again sip their coffee in peace. Amen.
Note: On 4 November 2026, the Indonesian Minister-State Secretary stated that the alleged wiretapping might lead towards treason, and the Coordinating Minister for Law, Human Rights, Immigration and Corrections stated that there were indications of treason under Articles 191 to 193 of the National Criminal Code, which the investigators are examining. Article 191 carries the death penalty, life imprisonment, or imprisonment of up to 20 years. The official suspicions against the suspects currently remain those of wiretapping, deletion of electronic data and illegal access. There is as yet no indictment or verdict, and the presumption of innocence continues to apply.
