The seductive call to dismantle DPR may be risky. Here’s what to do instead
What we need is a people-driven recall mechanism
This op-ed reflects the author’s own analysis and views and does not necessarily represent those of The Reformist.
Public disappointment towards the House of Representatives (DPR) has reached a new peak. A combination of public grievances has weakened the trust towards the institution: parliament members’ lavish allowances amidst the people’s economic struggles, a series of tone-deaf statements with little to no empathy, and the absence of clear, measurable legislative achievements.
What was once quiet skepticism has now transformed into visible outrage, finding its loudest expression online. Hashtags like #BubarkanDPR (#DismantleDPR) have become rallying cries of collective frustration, circulating widely across social media platforms and resonating with a public that feels increasingly alienated from its representatives.
But while these calls to dismantle the House may feel emotionally justified, they could carry serious and dangerous consequences. Abolishing the DPR would not resolve the systemic and fundamental breakdown of trust between citizens and their representatives. Instead, it would break apart the very system of checks and balances that keeps Indonesia’s democracy in place.
Removing legislative oversight would hand excessive and unchecked authority to the executive branch, creating conditions where emergency laws could be imposed without meaningful accountability.
On Emergency Law: What the Constitution and Perppu 23/1959 allow
Under Indonesia’s current legal framework for emergency powers, Article 12 of the 1945 Constitution, together with Perppu No. 23/1959, grants the president unilateral authority to declare a state of emergency and determine how it is enforced. These provisions, which remain in force today, were designed to give the executive broad discretion in times of crisis, with very few procedural checks in place.
This framework creates a dangerous concentration of power during crises, placing extraordinary authority entirely in the hands of the president. Neither the legislative nor the judicial branch has the ability to review, question, or block such a declaration. Once emergency powers are invoked, there is virtually no institutional mechanism to counterbalance or oversee the decision.
Without these safeguards, the public is left exposed to potential abuse. What may begin as a temporary response to a genuine crisis can, without proper oversight, easily turn into a prolonged or even permanent state of exceptional rule, fundamentally shifting the balance of Indonesia’s democracy and diminishing civil liberties over time.
The historical shift toward executive dominance
Indonesia’s current framework for emergency powers did not always look this way. In the early years of independence, Law No. 74 of 1957 reflected a more balanced approach to emergency governance, one that accommodated a degree of cooperation between the executive and legislative branches. Under that law, the declaration and administration of emergency powers involved a framework of shared authority, ensuring that no single branch could dominate the process outright.
This balance began to erode with the introduction of Law No. 23/Prp/1959, which remains in force today. This newer law consolidated decision-making in the hands of the executive, giving the President unilateral authority to declare and manage states of emergency without meaningful legislative or judicial input. What began as a system of shared responsibility gradually transformed into a model that centralizes power in a single branch, weakening institutional safeguards.
Understanding this historical shift is critical to recognizing why Indonesia’s democratic checks and balances remain fragile in moments of crisis. What was once designed as a collaborative system has evolved into one where the executive stands virtually unchecked during emergencies, creating a structural vulnerability that continues to shape the country’s political risks today.
Lessons from South Korea
We can look to South Korea for an example of how strong institutions can safeguard democracy during moments of crisis. In December 2024, President Yoon Suk Yeol shocked the nation when he unilaterally declared martial law, claiming it was necessary to counter an opposition-led assembly and alleged “anti-state forces.” Yet the country’s legislative branch moved quickly. Within hours, 190 members of the National Assembly voted to lift the martial law decree, forcing the government to retract it almost immediately.
This case showed how powerful constitutional checks can be when institutions function as intended. Under South Korea’s Constitution and Martial Law Act, the president is legally required to revoke martial law if a majority of the National Assembly votes against it. This provision became the first line of defense against executive overreach, preventing what could have escalated into a prolonged constitutional crisis.
Indonesia, in contrast, has no comparable safeguards. Neither the DPR nor the Constitutional Court has the authority to review or reverse a president’s decision to declare emergency powers. Without such mechanisms, any abuse of these powers would go unchallenged, leaving the public vulnerable and the balance of democratic governance dangerously tilted toward the executive.
This imbalance of power highlights a fundamental truth: dismantling DPR would not solve Indonesia’s democratic challenges. What the country needs instead is a way to restore public trust and ensure that the DPR fulfills its role as a true check on executive authority.
Reforming accountability: People-driven Recall Mechanism
The answer to a broken parliament is not to destroy it; it’s to make it more accountable. One of the most powerful tools to achieve this is the recall mechanism, a legal provision that allows legislators who betray public trust or fail to fulfill their duties to be removed before the end of their terms. In principle, this mechanism should safeguard the people’s voice and ensure that elected representatives remain answerable to those they represent.
However, under the current legal framework, the mechanism is controlled exclusively by political party leaders. Only the head of a party has the authority to withdraw a member from the DPR, leaving voters, who are supposed to be the ultimate source of power in a democracy, with no direct say in the process. This arrangement keeps power concentrated in the hands of party elites and sidelines the very citizens whose mandate gave those legislators their seats.
It would thus be transformative to reform the recall system by making it genuinely people-driven.
In Venezuela, the constitution explicitly allows citizens to recall any elected official, including members of the National Assembly, through a petition signed by at least 20 percent of voters in the constituency once the official has served half of their term.
Taiwan has a similar framework under its Election and Recall Act, where voters can initiate a recall of legislators in the Legislative Yuan. The process starts with signatures from 1 percent of eligible voters, followed by a second stage requiring 10 percent, which then triggers a recall vote. For the recall to succeed, the number of “yes” votes must exceed the “no” votes and reach at least 25 percent of the total electorate.
Ecuador also enshrines the right to recall in its constitution, allowing citizens to remove members of parliament after the first year of their term. Likewise, Bolivia treats recall as a constitutional right, making it a core part of its participatory democracy model.
Granting Indonesian voters a similar right would strengthen accountability and make legislators far more responsive to public demands. Such a reform would also help rebuild trust in the parliament by showing that it exists to serve the people, and that the people hold the ultimate power to demand integrity and performance from their representatives. By shifting the balance of control from party elites to the electorate, Indonesia could take a decisive step toward a more responsive and resilient democracy.
Restoring the people’s trust
Indonesia’s democratic future depends not on dismantling its institutions but on reforming them. True balance of power means having a parliament that exercises meaningful oversight, an executive that respects those limits, and citizens who can hold both to account.
Emergency powers will always be a feature of the constitutional system. But the risks those powers pose can only be mitigated by strong, independent, and functional oversight institutions that are equipped to monitor, check, and limit the use of such powers. The DPR should be at the core of this framework, ensuring that no branch of government can act without accountability.
The path forward is more challenging but ultimately more certain: reforming the parliament, empowering citizens, and building a democracy resilient enough to withstand both unaccountable governance and moments of national crisis. Only then can Indonesia safeguard its hard-earned freedoms and prevent them from slipping away under the weight of unchecked power.
Josua Satria Collins is a graduate law student at Universitas Indonesia with a specialization in constitutional law. He previously served as expert staff to a Member of the Indonesian House of Representatives (DPR) during the 2019–2024 legislative term.
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