Restoring civilian supremacy over Indonesia’s police
The police’s mandate, authority, and institutions need restructuring
This op-ed reflects the author’s own analysis and views and does not necessarily represent those of The Reformist. This was submitted to complement and enrich the discourse we’ve discussed on The Reformist’s 14th edition ‘What we talk about when we talk about police reform’.

Amok has once again erupted in Indonesia. It began in Pati, then it spread to Bone, Cirebon, Jombang, and Semarang, as public anger reached boiling point.
In Jakarta, the common people’s economic struggle was met not with empathy, but with arrogance from state officials. The fury inflamed when parliament members awarded themselves daily allowances of Rp3 million, dancing (figuratively, but also literally) on the people’s suffering.
But the people’s grievances and demands were met with violence; culminating in the death of Affan Kurniawan, an online motorcycle taxi driver who was crushed by a police armored vehicle.
Rather than de-escalate, the police doubled down with repression. The death toll has now reached ten, with thousands more injured by police violence.
Affan’s death and the brutality against protesters sparked calls for the removal of the National Police Chief. While legitimate, such demands are not enough. What is needed is not merely a change of leadership, but structural, systemic reform.
A reform that goes beyond symbolic training in “humanist” policing or perfunctory HR management. A reform that restores civilian supremacy by placing clear limits on police powers and subjecting them to oversight by other civilian institutions.
Polri’s constitutional mandate
The 1945 Constitution mandates the police as a “state apparatus tasked with maintaining security and public order, protecting, nurturing, and serving the public, as well as enforcing the law.”
With the second-largest budget allocation after the Ministry of Defense (funds tripling during the Jokowi era, from Rp39 trillion in 2012 to Rp126 trillion in 2025), citizens have every right to scrutinize how their tax money is spent. Just as residents question whether their neighborhood security fees translate into real safety, Indonesians must ask: Has a bigger budget made the police more effective? Has it made people feel safer?
Security and public order
How is Indonesia’s security? The Global Peace Index places the country fifth in Southeast Asia, behind Singapore, Malaysia, Vietnam, Laos, and Timor Leste. For investors, this ranking signals risk compared to neighboring countries. Many businesses end up paying extra for protection services, including security companies run by police officers themselves (Wilson, 2011).
Time and again, police methods of “maintaining order” have only inflamed tensions. The Kanjuruhan tragedy is a stark example: during a heated soccer match, Mobile Brigade (Brimob) officers fired tear gas and blocked stadium exits, leading to 135 deaths, including 40 children. This tragedy sparked public fury and fueled nationwide protests, especially after involved officers were only given weak sanctions.
Most recently, on 28 August 2025, Affan Kurniawan was run over by a 12-ton Brimob armored vehicle. What began as anger over MPs’ lavish allowances quickly evolved into calls for police reform. Once again, the police’s heavy-handed response worsened the chaos, sparking looting and destruction of public facilities.
The police’s centralized authority makes them the most dominant actor in public security, leaving ample room for abuse. As Lord Acton put it: “Absolute power corrupts absolutely.” And as stipulated by Klitgaard’s anticorruption formula, many countries mitigate this risk by dividing authority and strengthening accountability mechanisms.
In the United States, for instance, policing is managed at city and state levels. Even in centralized China, the police answer to both central and local governments. These dual systems are designed to ensure policing is aligned with the needs and characters of local civilian communities.
Protection and public services
The police also control a vast array of public services: issuing police clearance certificates, driver’s licenses, traffic fines, vehicle taxes, event permits, and security guard IDs. In 2023, these services generated Rp9.7 trillion in non-tax state revenue. This makes Polri the second-largest contributor after the Ministry of Communications and Digital Affairs.
But with power and money comes corruption. The Police Corruption Perception Index (2024) ranked Indonesia’s police the most corrupt institution in Southeast Asia, and 18th in the world. The Global Corruption Barometer (2020) also identified the police as Indonesia’s most bribe-prone institution.
Elsewhere, such services are run by civilians. In the U.S., the Netherlands, and Malaysia, licensing and vehicle tax administration fall under non-police local governments. Indonesia itself once placed driver’s license issuance under the Ministry of Transportation.
Shifting these functions back to civilian agencies is not only an anti-corruption measure; it restores roles to their rightful purpose. Historically, policing was never about serving the public; it was about enforcing order for those in power. This militaristic DNA explains why police often side with rulers over citizens (Vitale, 2017).
Law enforcement
The police wield authority over criminal law enforcement. In theory, this means processing offenders through fair trial and punishment. In practice, however, public trust is collapsing; epitomized by the #PercumaLaporPolisi (“No Use Going to the Police”) movement. Statistics back this up: between 2021–2023, only 23 percent of crime victims reported incidents to the police (BPS). This distrust leaves offenders at large, undermining public safety.
Even worse, police often enforce the law by breaking it. The National Human Rights Commission (Komnas HAM) routinely cites the police as the institution most responsible for violence and torture, especially during interrogations. In one case, four teenagers accused of murder in Cipulir were beaten and electrocuted until they confessed; before a court finally acquitted them.
Accountability gaps fuel these abuses. The draft for Criminal Procedure Code (RKUHAP) once proposed allowing prosecutors to take over stalled cases. It also proposed giving judges oversight over arrests, detentions, searches, and seizures. Such checks, common in other democracies, would rebalance law enforcement toward civilian institutions (like the Court or Prosecutor’s Office). Yet, these proposals quietly disappeared during parliamentary deliberations.
The way forward
Recent incidents show that the police have failed to fulfill their constitutional mandate. Reform cannot stop at replacing a police chief or disciplining rogue officers. As Jacqui Baker (2022) argues, police reform in Indonesia is dead. What is needed is political reform—one that repositions the police within a democratic civilian framework.
This means restructuring the police’s mandate, authority, and institutions so they operate with focus and accountability. Only then can policing serve its true purpose: protecting the people, under civilian rule.


