Sakti Ryan
As Indonesia enters its eighth decade of independence next week, it’s worth asking: what kind of policymaking culture are we building for the future? Recently, I rewatched House of Cards (an American TV Series streamed on Netflix) and had candid conversations with friends in the government to understand current dynamics in the administration, two experiences that revived a recurring question: why is the word “lobbyist” still so hard to accept in Indonesia? And why do we prefer to call it “advocacy” instead?
At its best, lobbying is about informed advocacy. But here, it’s often associated with rent-seeking, backroom deals, or opaque influence. This creates a dilemma: how do we ensure fair and effective policymaking in a system where the decision-making process isn’t always trusted or transparent?
In Indonesia, “lobbying” and “advocacy” are often used interchangeably. But they shouldn’t be. While both aim to shape policy, the methods and motivations matter. Lobbying tends to imply one-way persuasion, pushing connections or campaign support in exchange for outcomes. Advocacy, by contrast, has the potential to be something more meaningful: a process rooted in dialogue, data, and public legitimacy.
Today, Indonesia doesn’t need more noise in policymaking rooms. It needs sharper ears. The path to smarter, fairer policies begins with listening.
Listening as a Strategic Act
Indonesia is not short on laws. From omnibus bills to ministerial regulations, our regulatory landscape is dense, sometimes to the point of contradiction. In 2023 alone, the Ministry of Law and Human Rights recorded over 1,800 new regulations issued by ministries, agencies, and regional governments. The result: a legal maze that even experienced institutions struggle to navigate.
In this cluttered space, the challenge isn’t just creating new policies. It’s making sure they’re relevant, grounded, and legitimate. That can only happen when we start by listening, listening to affected communities, to data, to the institutions tasked with implementation.
Unfortunately, many advocacy efforts still follow a “push” model: pushing talking points, pushing connections, pushing for quick wins. But policies born from shortcuts rarely last. During the COVID-19 pandemic, for instance, government support for MSMEs often missed informal workers, largely because those workers were never part of the design process (World Bank, 2021).
Rethinking “Lobbying” in the Indonesian Context
Lobbying itself isn’t inherently bad. In many democracies, it’s a recognized way to bring stakeholder input into policy. In France, lobbyists or représentants d’intérêts must register with the High Authority for Transparency in Public Life (HATVP) before engaging with public officials. The United States has similar safeguards under its Lobbying Disclosure Act.
Indonesia, however, has no such mechanism. There’s no formal registry or code of ethics to govern lobbying activities. That regulatory vacuum, combined with a culture of elite transactionalism, has fed public suspicion and blurred the line between legitimate input and undue influence.
This is why we need a shift from quiet corridors of power to open consultations. From transactional lobbying to participatory advocacy. From privileged access to shared legitimacy.
What Listening-Based Advocacy Looks Like
Listening-based advocacy isn’t soft. It’s smart. It starts with data, not assumptions. It asks not just what a policy should say, but how it will land on the ground. For example, research from the Center for Strategic and International Studies (CSIS) in 2023 shows that digital economy policies often overlook the limited capacity of local governments, resulting in uneven implementation and reduced investor confidence. These are gaps that better listening could help prevent.
Listening-based advocacy also treats citizens and stakeholders not as policy targets but as co-designers. Participatory models like Musrenbang (community planning forums) already exist in Indonesia. But they are underutilized at the national level, where policymaking still often takes place in elite silos. Reviving and scaling these participatory tools could lead to more durable and inclusive reforms.
Advocacy for the Long Haul
Influence in Jakarta is often seen as a sprint: you submit a draft, secure a sign-off, declare victory. But real change is a marathon. It takes trust, consistency, and humility. Especially in a country like Indonesia, where decentralization means national policies are only as effective as their implementation at the local level.
Programs like Makan Bergizi Gratis, Sekolah Rakyat, and Rumah Subsidi key initiatives in this administration will only succeed if they are not only well-designed at the top, but also grounded in regional realities. That requires ongoing engagement, not one-time deals.
Long-term advocacy also means building policy literacy not just among politicians and bureaucrats, but across communities, businesses, and media. When more people understand how policy works and how they can shape it, lobbying loses its secrecy, and advocacy gains public legitimacy.
Toward a Listening-Centered Advocacy Model
Indonesia is entering a new chapter, shaped by a generational shift in leadership and a more digitally engaged public. As we look toward the 2029 elections, we may see younger leaders stepping into key roles bringing with them new expectations for transparency, accountability, and participation. The opportunity for better policymaking is real. But it won’t come from louder voices or faster deals. It will come from listening deep, strategic, and sustained.
Policy advocacy in Indonesia must outgrow its performative, transactional past. We need fewer lobbyists chasing short-term wins, and more advocates building long-term alignment. Because the best policies aren’t the ones shouted the loudest. They’re the ones shaped with clarity, credibility, and the voices of those who matter most.
