Indonesia

"Measuring Up" features new and cutting-edge research related to the status of women and girls, and identifies how evidence-based findings can inform and evaluate policy approaches to global challenges. This piece is authored by Mercedes Fitchett, Acquisition Program Manager in the Department of the Air Force.

Two months into his second term, Indonesian President Joko Widodo, or Jokowi, has announced bold new economic plans. He has vowed to push through major deregulation, and launch massive new infrastructure projects. But whether Jokowi can implement his economic agenda remains less clear. He has built a cabinet that is an uneasy mix of veteran politicians, including some with unsavory backgrounds, and younger, reform-minded technocrats. This combustible cabinet could undermine his economic plans. And Jokowi’s disinterest in political reforms could prove a hurdle as well, hindering his abilities to get anything done. For more on Jokowi’s second term, see my new World Politics Review column.

For the latter half of the twentieth century, after the United Nations officially recognized Indonesian independence in 1949, Indonesia dominated regional politics in Southeast Asia. But during its shift from authoritarianism to democracy, in the late 1990s and early 2000s, Indonesia mostly lost that mantle of leadership. Now, with its democracy consolidated—though hardly perfect—and Indonesian leaders increasingly concerned about a range of regional threats, Jakarta is once again trying to lead Southeast Asia. Will it succeed? For more on whether Indonesia can reclaim this mantle, see my new article for Aspenia Online.

In elections last month, Australia’s Liberal-National coalition won a surprising victory, defying pollsters who had almost uniformly predicted that the Australian Labor Party would triumph. The coalition’s victory was chalked up, by many, to the unpopularity of Labor leader Bill Shorten, who has since resigned as leader of Labor, and the Australian electorate’s cautiousness—the coalition had overseen continued economic expansion, and Labor had proposed a bold agenda that might have alienated some voters. On domestic policy, the coalition’s victory likely presages continuity on key domestic issues like taxes. Morrison promised tax cuts before the election, for instance and seems likely to deliver them. But the impact of the coalition’s victory on Australian policy toward Southeast Asia is somewhat less clear. In the run-up to the election, as James Curran noted for Asia Unbound, the parties did not seriously debate foreign policy. On China and the United States, two of Australia’s three most important foreign relationships, Morrison seems to have a predictable approach, Curran wrote, but the Liberal-National coalition will find its policies challenged by regional and global dynamics—principally being pulled between the two giants—that could undermine Morrison’s attempt to have a coherent China policy. And in dealing with Southeast Asia and the Pacific, the coalition’s approach seems somewhat more muddled, although there are important reasons for hope. On Indonesia, Morrison is poised to move relations forward, and has already taken steps, since becoming prime minister last year, to solidify ties with Jakarta. In March, Indonesia and Australia signed a major free trade agreement, though it still has to be approved by parliaments in Canberra and Jakarta. This was a landmark in bilateral economic ties, and Morrison also went to Jakarta on his first international trip as prime minister last year. In making Indonesia his first destination for an international trip, Morrison demonstrated the high priority he placed on the Australia-Indonesia relationship, historically a fraught one. Although ties between Canberra and Jakarta cooled briefly last year after Morrison raised the idea of moving the Australian embassy in Israel, Morrison formally recognized West Jerusalem as Israel’s capital yet his administration ultimately opened a defense and trade office in Jerusalem, with little fanfare. The trade agreement, too, helped warm links again between Jakarta and Canberra. In his new term, Morrison is likely to push efforts to upgrade strategic ties with Indonesia, in addition to getting the trade deal passed through parliament. The bilateral relationship, like all of Indonesia’s foreign ties, also probably will benefit from more stability in Canberra, as Morrison’s election and new Liberal Party rules that make internal party spills more difficult should stabilize Australian politics and prevent the revolving chair prime minister problem that, in recent years, has unsettled regional allies. The opportunity for closer strategic relations between Australia and Indonesia certainly exists: As I noted in a Council Special Report last year, the Jokowi administration has become increasingly worried about Beijing’s approach to the South China Sea and other regional challenges. Indonesians overall also have declining favorable views of China. Indeed, Jakarta has moved closer to Canberra’s hawkish views about China’s military assertiveness, although Jokowi needs to woo Chinese investment so badly that he will be reluctant to truly alienate Beijing. Still, there is a substantial chance for Morrison to build on the Comprehensive Strategic Partnership Australia signed with Indonesia last year, such as by expanding bilateral joint military exercises or making the new Japan-South Korea-Australia-Indonesia exercises a regular practice. Outside Indonesia, admittedly Canberra’s crucial Southeast Asian relationship, the coalition’s policies are less clear. Morrison seems more focused on China, Indonesia, and the Pacific, traditionally an Australian sphere of influence but increasingly an area of Chinese dominance, than on Southeast Asia other than Indonesia. Morrison’s plan for a Pacific pivot is substantial, and he has already moved to make good on the strategy. His approach will balance China’s power in the Pacific, though the coalition’s general lack of action on climate change will potentially undermine Pacific ties. With mainland Southeast Asia, other than Vietnam, it will be difficult for the Morrison administration to convince any countries to go along with Canberra’s relatively tough approach toward China. And Canberra does not appear to have as clear a strategy toward mainland Southeast Asian states as it does toward the rest of the region. I will deal with Morrison’s approach to mainland Southeast Asia in the next blog post.

With the final results out of the Indonesian presidential elections, incumbent President Joko Widodo, or Jokowi, has won a sizable victory over challenger Prabowo Subianto, with Jokowi taking 55.5 percent of the vote to Prabowo’s 44.5 percent. The sizable Jokowi win is being presented, at least in some media coverage, as evidence, in an era of populist strongman making gains globally—after all, populist Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi just led his party to a crushing victory in India’s national elections—that Indonesian voters had somehow rejected strongman politics for a man more committed to democratic pluralism, and to pragmatic fixes for the country’s major needs. The New York Times, for instance, called Jokowi’s re-election a “repudiation of the nationalist and faith politics that have brought strongmen to power across the globe.” To be sure, compared with Prabowo, a bombastic former lieutenant general who in recent years had made alliances with Islamists and has regularly hinted that he might rule as a strongman, Jokowi is more committed to Indonesian democratic norms and institutions. Jokowi performed well in many areas of the country with large numbers of religious minorities, suggesting that these voters believe he is more willing to protect concepts of secularism and pluralism embedded in the Indonesian constitution. “For the continued existence of our country,” Jokowi told the New York Times after the final results were released, “we have to rely on Indonesia’s culture, which is diverse and tolerant.” Yet Jokowi’s first term hardly suggests that, in his second term, he is likely to steer Indonesia back toward a pluralist path. He seems unlikely to move the country away from some of trends that point to growing military influence over the economy and domestic politics, an increasing crackdown on free speech, and rising intolerance for religious and ethnic minorities, and LGBT Indonesians. During his first five years in office, Jokowi abandoned many initial hopes that he would be a powerful champion for democracy, rights, and pluralism in a country that is increasingly facing sectarian divides and an empowered Islamist movement. He has said virtually nothing about the growing intolerance toward religious minorities, or the increasing jailing of LGBT Indonesians. He occasionally defended the LGBT community, but his government has not taken any action to stop attacks on LGBT people by Islamist hard-liners, often with the apparent support of the security forces. Last year, Jokowi, in a meeting with UN officials, implied that LGBT men and women should not be accepted in Indonesia. Meanwhile, in the latter part of Jokowi’s first term, he appointed former military men to many high positions in his government, and gave them multiple portfolios. This is a worrying sign for rights and for civilian control of the armed forces, given the army’s track record of abuses, and the fact that some of the men Jokowi placed at senior government positions themselves, like Defense Minister Ryamizard Ryacudu, have been linked to abuses in the past. The defense minister also is notorious for his anti-gay statements; he has said that Indonesia’s LGBT rights movement is “a form of proxy war” against the country. Perhaps, now that he does not have to run for office again, Jokowi will be more willing to use his bully pulpit to push back against rising Islamism, and increasing intolerances of minorities. But Jokowi is not normally a bully pulpit type speaker; he prefers to effect change in incremental ways, unlike some of his predecessors. This is part of his common man appeal, but his modest speaking style is not necessarily suited for using the rhetorical powers of the presidency to stand up for secularism and pluralism, and to combat rising Islamism. He also appears especially focused, as his second term launches, on delivering on areas like improving social welfare programs, continuing his work to upgrade Indonesia’s physical infrastructure, and making inroads into extreme poverty, as well as attracting investment. These are all much-needed and important areas for the president to focus on, the core of the pragmatic platform of a many who cut his teeth in politics as a big city mayor. But they will do little to stop the country’s slide into sectarianism and illiberalism. Jokowi also has promised a major revamp of his cabinet later this year, a common move after re-election. Still, given Jokowi’s close links with so many top military men, many military leaders will remain in the president’s close circle. In the weeks since the election, too, there are no signs that Jokowi intends to halt his efforts to use state powers against political opponents, even though he has been re-elected. Earlier this month, security forces arrested a prominent supporter of Jokowi opponent Prabowo, on treason charges, for supposedly planning large protests.

The election results show a hardening of voting patterns along religious, ethnic, and geographic lines, a troubling development for a multiracial and religiously diverse Indonesia.

With another five-year term, President Joko Widodo will possibly revive economic reform efforts and could take a more skeptical view toward China.

Incumbent Indonesian president Joko Widodo, or Jokowi, appears to have handily won a second term in Indonesia’s presidential elections this week. Although the final, confirmed results will not be available for weeks, quick and unofficial counts released after the election on April 17 showed Jokowi defeating rival Prabowo Subianto by around 10 percent. (The quick counts have generally proven reliable in the past.) In concurrent parliamentary elections, Jokowi’s coalition seems to have taken enough seats to control more than 50 percent of parliament, although the final results in the parliamentary election are also not due for weeks. Jokowi has proven a charismatic but often cautious leader, despite bold promises of reform in his first campaign in 2014; his first term did not live up to high hopes. But, after this election—and the fact that he does not have to run again—Jokowi could convert his personal popularity, and the power that comes with a big win, to restart economic reform, strengthen the country’s democracy, and rethink Jakarta’s approach to Beijing. For more on how Jokowi might actually approach his second term, see my new CFR Article. 

This week, Indonesians will go to the polls in the country’s presidential elections. Incumbent Joko Widodo, or Jokowi, remains a strong favorite, against challenger Prabowo Subianto. Most surveys show Jokowi with a wide lead, although Prabowo’s campaign appears to be picking up some steam in its final days. Still, even if Jokowi is re-elected, he would assume a second term in a political environment in which the vast hopes for his presidency, which surged before his first election in 2014 and early in his first term, have diminished. Jokowi has made some progress in economic reform and combating graft, but overall his record as president has been mixed at best. For more of an assessment of Jokowi’s first term, see my new piece for World Politics Review.

Three events this week served as a reminder that, in a world where democracy is buffeted on many fronts—the rise of populists who often undermine the rule of law, a growing disinterest in democracy promotion from leaders of the United States and other states, and the influence of major authoritarian powers—armed forces remain political actors in many countries, despite an overall reduction in coups since the days of the Cold War. In Thailand, ruled by a military junta since 2014, the military’s favored party won the largest share of the popular vote in elections last month, but a group of anti-junta parties appear, overall, to have garnered the biggest number of seats in the lower house of parliament. So, the Thai military appears to be maneuvering to ensure that the second-biggest party in the anti-junta alliance is defanged, and to use a range of inducements to convince smaller political parties to join the pro-military alliance in parliament. No matter what happens, it is almost certain that Thailand’s military will remain in control of government, resisting attempts at real civilian oversight of the armed forces. Meanwhile, in Indonesia, which holds presidential elections next week, the military is steadily regaining much of the power it lost in the period after the fall of Suharto, as Indonesian democracy emerged. As Evan Laksmana notes in the New York Times, both candidates in the Indonesian elections, incumbent Joko Widodo (known as Jokowi) and challenger Prabowo Subianto, have helped the military regain power, or will likely do so if elected. If Prabowo, a retired former lieutenant general, were to win (which still seems unlikely given polls of the race) there is a possibility that he would reduce limits on the central government and undermine democratic checks and norms—and potentially allow the military and other security forces far greater rein domestically. Jokowi, though not as openly disdainful of democratic norms and institutions as Prabowo, has surrounded himself with military men. He has allowed the armed forces to reassert their influence over domestic issues including counterterrorism and counternarcotics, among other areas. This is a worrying trend in a country where, for decades, the armed forces were known for dominating politics and committing rights abuses. In other parts of Southeast Asia, militaries retain significant political leverage, though outright coups have declined since the Cold War, as they have in regions like Africa as well. In Myanmar, the military, still by far the most powerful actor in the country despite a technically civilian government, appear to be extending their new battle in Rakhine State. There, fighting has intensified in recent weeks between the military and the insurgent Arakan Army. The military retains near-total control over internal security, and it is unclear whether operations, like the one ramping up against the Arakan Army, are taken solely on the military’s initiative, or whether the armed forces even really consult with the civilian government before acting. But Southeast Asia is not unique. In Sudan this week, the armed forces indeed launched a coup, removing longtime leader Omar al-Bashir. To be sure, Bashir was one of the most repressive rulers in the world, and came to power three decades ago in a coup as well. But the military takeover could neuter the massive protest movement in Sudan, prevent a real transition to a freer form of government, and install just as repressive a regime in Khartoum as Bashir’s government. Just as other types of autocratic regimes have freer rein today than they did in the 1990s and early 2000s, militaries also face fewer constraints on their power. Democratic powers are distracted by their own deep political problems, populations in some states have soured on democracy and looked to other alternatives, and the U.S. government views regions like Southeast Asia as places home to a growing contest for influence with China—and thus requiring closer ties with almost any government willing to align with Washington. The U.S. government appeared ready to completely normalize military-to-military relations with Bangkok, before the election last month, even though the election process was unfair. With Egypt, the White House has lavished fulsome praise on autocratic leader Abdel Fatah al-Sisi, a military man who took power in a coup six years ago and now has indicated he wants to stay in office another fifteen years. The Indonesian military’s creeping re-emergence in Indonesian domestic politics has had little impact on U.S.-Indonesia security ties, or Indonesia’s security links with other regional democracies. Meanwhile, in a world increasingly looking for strongman rule as an alternative to democracy, to solve crises of graft and a lack of political accountability by elected leaders, military men have become more attractive. In some countries, like Thailand, where populists already have ruled, populations have looked to the military as means of ousting populist leaders—though in reality military governments only further erode democratic norms and institutions. In places like Egypt, Indonesia, Myanmar, Thailand, or even Brazil, armed forces, too, are again embedding within their military cultures a resistance to civilian oversight—or refusing to change their cultures to embrace civilian oversight. For a time in Thailand in the late 1990s and early 2000s, for instance, it appeared that the Thai armed forces were beginning to shift, with younger officers at least considering an end to the kingdom’s cycle of coups and military meddling in politics. Whatever glimmer of hope there was for a civilianization of the Thai military now has vanished. The country has had two coups in the past fifteen years, and both older and younger generations of Thai officers seem committed to the continuation of the Royal Thai Army as the dominant political actor.

Indonesia, the biggest economy in Southeast Asia and long the dominant strategic actor, is a country whose bilateral relationship with the United States has historically underperformed its potential. As I noted in a Council Special Report, U.S.-Indonesia economic and security ties lag Washington’s links with other leading countries in the region, though Indonesia is becoming one of the biggest consumer markets in the world, and wields the most influence over regional diplomacy. But the country is drifting, in economic reforms and its commitment to democracy. Islamist groups have become emboldened, undermining secularism and targeting minorities. Unfortunately, presidential elections in Indonesia on April 17 are probably not going to revitalize Indonesian politics. For more on the upcoming election, and its possible impact on regional security and U.S.-Indonesia relations, see my new CFR article.

Indonesia’s high-stakes vote for president is likely to result in more political stagnation for the world’s third-largest democracy.

By Elena Collinson A federal election is due this year in Australia. While the Liberal-National Coalition government has yet to formally announce a polling day, the stage has effectively been set for a May election. According to Australian law, May 18 is the latest possible date a federal election could be called. The opposition Australian Labor Party (ALP) is favored to win, having consistently polled ahead of the Coalition over the last year, at least, and having extended their lead in polls in the aftermath of Malcolm Turnbull’s ouster from the Coalition prime ministership in an internal Liberal Party leadership contest last year. Labor has made efforts over the last two years to articulate a comprehensive foreign policy framework, with cohesive public messaging on key issues—for the most part—by the shadow cabinet. This disciplined approach seems to augur for consistency and certainty in their public diplomacy should they win control of government. In his first major foreign policy speech on October 29, opposition leader Bill Shorten was emphatic about crafting a foreign policy that was clear-eyed about a changing world, and one that would “speak with a clear Australian accent.” Asked what this meant precisely, shadow foreign minister Penny Wong stated, “Confidence, independence, making sure that our primary focus, as always, is on Australia’s national interests.” Should the ALP win control of government, Shorten’s personal criticisms of U.S. President Donald J. Trump during the U.S. presidential election campaign and thereafter may present some difficulties in navigating the U.S.-Australia relationship. In October 2016, Shorten declared Trump “entirely unsuitable to be leader of the free world,” having earlier that year described Trump’s policies as “barking mad.” In January 2017, Shorten called the new president’s policy barring visitors from several Muslim-majority from entering the United States “appalling.” While some Coalition ministers had also publicly deployed colorful language to describe Trump during his candidacy, then Prime Minister Malcolm Turnbull had refrained from wading in with comments. To be sure, leaked footage of Turnbull impersonating Trump during a speech to the Press Gallery Mid-Winter Ball—a closed-door equivalent to the White House Correspondents Dinner—emerged in June 2017, only a few months after Trump was inaugurated. However, the off-the-record speech was no serious attack in the public sphere on the American president, with Turnbull asserting that it was “light-hearted, affectionate, good natured.” Indeed, this assessment enjoyed some support from the opposition and seemed to be swiftly accepted by Washington with the U.S. embassy in Australia saying the footage was taken “with good humor that was intended.” Shorten’s unflattering comments about Trump might make for some initial awkwardness. As might comments by shadow defence minister Richard Marles, who said in October 2017, “An immigration system which overtly seeks to discriminate on the basis of religion is clearly repugnant. So pro-American advocates like myself are now in a position where on certain issues we will need to be deeply critical of the United States.” But any rift this may cause between the two countries is likely to be superficial. Shorten and the senior members of his shadow cabinet have articulated an “unshakeable” commitment to the U.S.-Australia alliance, terming it a “pillar” of the ALP’s foreign policy vision and “central to Australia’s strategic interests.” While stating that Labor would have no qualms “speaking truth to power” they have also demonstrated an intent to work in with others in the region “to ensure that the United States recognizes that it is integral to the region we collectively seek”. That said, trade issues will continue to be an irritant in the bilateral relationship so long as Washington continues to move away from the rules-based multilateral trading system. With respect to China, there is no immediate indication that the ALP’s approach will differ significantly from that of the current government. Criticisms from Labor of the government’s handling of the Australia-China relationship have predominantly centred on rhetoric, variously characterizing it as “disjointed megaphone diplomacy,” “Chinaphobic” and “unwise and provocative,” as opposed to disagreement on policy substance. On matters of national security the ALP have often been in lockstep with the Coalition, supporting legislation to counter foreign interference after revelations of growing Chinese influence in Australian politics, a ban on foreign political donations, and the decision to block Chinese companies Huawei and ZTE from involvement in the rollout of Australia’s 5G network. Labor has also been supportive of strategies to balance China’s regional rise, actively engaging in the push to forge closer ties with Pacific nations, and articulating a strong commitment to the Quadrilateral Security Dialogue. There is also general consensus between the two major parties on how to approach human rights issues as well—Wong has stated, for example, that the Australian government is handling the mass internment of an estimated one million Uighurs and other Muslim minorities in Xinjiang “the appropriate way” by enunciating Canberra’s concerns “very clear publicly and privately” but not immediately reaching for sanctions against Beijing. Shorten has also rejected the notion of “pre-emptively framing China as a strategic threat,” placing some distance between the Labor Party’s proposed China policy and the more adversarial posture toward China reflected in the U.S. National Security and National Defense Strategies and amplified in Vice President Mike Pence’s tough speech on China last October. His statement also comes against a domestic backdrop in Australia of increasing wariness of Chinese state influence and interference in Australian politics, academia and industry, and rising alarm at the Chinese government’s moves toward the playing of a more aggressive diplomatic game, most recently with its detentions of foreign nationals, including Australian citizen Yang Hengjun. Turnbull in December 2017 spoke of “unprecedented and increasingly sophisticated attempts to influence the political process”—an assessment received from Australia’s intelligence agencies—citing “disturbing reports about Chinese influence.” And in December 2018 the New South Wales Labor Party’s headquarters were raided by investigators from the Independent Commission Against Corruption, reportedly looking for financial records linked to an annual Chinese Friends of Labor party fundraising event. Shorten’s statement seemingly is trying to reassure Beijing that despite growing and serious Australian concerns about China a Labor-led Australia would continue to pursue constructive engagement with Beijing. Two areas of potential difference in a Labor-led China policy may be on Australian strategy in the South China Sea and participation in the Belt and Road Initiative (BRI). Marles, a self-described “China hawk,” might push in a Labor cabinet for Australia to increase its actions in the disputed waters, having signaled an openness to such in the past. It is unclear exactly what this increased activity would look like, however. Marles has not explicitly advocated for Australia to conduct freedom of navigation operations within the twelve nautical mile zone of disputed territory, but he has stated that “Labor would consider opportunities for further cooperation with partners in the region.” The ALP has also expressed an “open mind as to how Australia and China can best collaborate on the [BRI],” and has not ruled out participating in joint infrastructure projects to develop northern Australia. Labor also has committed to “a significant increase” in Australian outreach with Asia generally, matching Australia’s “economic and trading agenda with our broader geopolitical priorities.” Key initiatives on this front were nominated in some detail in the ALP’s “Future Asia” policy framework, launched in 2017. One priority in Labor’s overall Asia strategy is to deepen economic ties with Indonesia, one of Australia’s most important, and often contentious, bilateral relationships. Shorten has pledged an “early visit” to Indonesia should he be elected prime minister, and asserted that reaching a level of “strategic trust” with Indonesia would be “a central objective” of a Labor government. Tensions in the Australia-Indonesia bilateral relationship arose anew late last year with the government’s announcement that Australia would recognize West Jerusalem as Israel’s capital. Indonesian Foreign Minister Retno Marsudi declared that this was a “really big blow” that would “affect bilateral relations” and Indonesia’s trade minister indicated that it would adversely impact the conclusion of a Australia-Indonesia free trade agreement (FTA). In one instance of emphatic divergence from the current Coalition government, Labor has stated that, if it wins power, it would reverse the government’s decision on recognizing West Jerusalem as the capital of Israel. However, the Australia-Indonesia FTA could still stall under a Labor government given the ALP’s opposition to a provision allowing for the importation of foreign workers. There is also the potential for a rhetorical flare-up between Australia and Indonesia should Abu Bakar Bashir, the radical Indonesian cleric linked to the Bali bombings which claimed the lives of eighty-eight Australians, be given early release, as Jakarta is considering. Shorten had declared in January this year that jail is “where he belongs.” However, it is unlikely that a Labor government would take a strong stand on this front, with Shorten conceding his views were “a personal opinion.” In office, Labor also likely would maintain Canberra’s “Pacific pivot”, having committed to place the Pacific at the center of Australia’s regional foreign policy. This would likely include a Labor government moving forward with Prime Minister Scott Morrison’s promise to establish a $2 billion fund to support infrastructure projects in the region. Despite some variances, it appears at this point that there would be no substantial foreign policy overhaul under a Labor government. As Wong noted in 2017, there is bipartisan support for the Australian foreign policy white paper released that year. The white paper, Australia’s first in fourteen years, examines the shifting power dynamics in the Indo-Pacific region, with a particular focus on the challenges presented by China’s rise coupled with concerns about decreased a potential decreased U.S. role in the region. Wong said the ALP recognized that “long-term planning is in the national interest, and that the nation is better off when changes of government don’t translate into the digital burning of months and years of public service work.” While there may be some differences between Labor and the government in terms of the execution of policy priorities, all indications currently point to a preference for broadly staying the same course. Elena Collinson (@elenacollinson) is a senior researcher at the Australia-China Relations Institute, University of Technology Sydney.

In addition to regression on the issue of press freedom, Southeast Asia witnessed backsliding on rights and freedoms in many other areas in 2018, with Malaysia as a notable exception to this trend. Cambodia, the Philippines, Thailand, Myanmar, and even Indonesia exemplified a continued democratic regression. Cambodia became a clearly one-party state after a sham election in July, although at the end of the year Hun Sen and the CPP, under pressure from foreign governments, slightly relaxed their pressure on the opposition and civil society. However, this relaxation was probably just a means of convincing major foreign donors not to impose tougher sanctions against Cambodia, and not really a shift in how Hun Sen treats the opposition or civil society. Meanwhile, the Thai junta did everything it could to prevent real political opposition from coalescing. It banned political parties from organizing for most of the time before the February 2019 elections, putting most parties at a disadvantage before the election. The ban was only lifted in December. In the Philippines, President Rodrigo Duterte cracked down hard on press freedoms, as I noted in a previous blog, including trying to shut down the Rappler, one of the country’s best-known independent outlets. But he also appears to be trying to intimidate other journalism outlets, and has floated plans of launching more extrajudicial killing squads, in addition to those already tasked with wiping out drug suspects – these new squads would purportedly attack anyone linked to a communist insurgent group. Duterte also continued to weaken the independence of the judiciary and the power of the political opposition. In Laos, where the country’s new leadership has promised to take tough measures to root out graft, there are signs of progress on fighting corruption, including the firing of two provincial governors alleged to have been involved in corruption. But overall, the anti-corruption campaign has made modest inroads at best, and promises by the new leadership to bolster transparency and accountability have had no real effect on what remains a highly authoritarian and opaque government. And in Myanmar, the National League for Democracy/Aung San Suu Kyi government has proven a massive disappointment, overseeing stalled democratic reforms, regression on press freedoms, and a scorched earth policy toward the Rohingya in western Myanmar. However, 2019 might not be so grim for rights and freedoms in Southeast Asia. Although Thailand’s junta has tried to stage-manage elections called for February to ensure that the outcome is favorable to the military – and possibly even one resulting in a former general as prime minister – it cannot completely control the actual election. There is considerable reason to believe that, although the election will not be totally fair – the military is trying to slant the playing field against the long-ruling Puea Thai party – the actual Election Day will be free, marking some progress after nearly five years of military rule. In addition, an election brings some degree of uncertainty, and there is a chance that the vote will result in a parliament that has real authority and popular legitimacy and puts the country back on the path to democratic rule. There are other potentially hopeful signs in 2019 for rights and freedoms in the region. An election in Indonesia could showcase continued democratic consolidation there, even despite Jokowi’s increasingly authoritarian actions in the past year, and his selection of a cleric as running mate who has, in the past, made harsh statements about a range of minority groups in Indonesia. Malaysia’s government, which has made a strong start on democratic reforms, needs to move quickly to reform the country’s institutions, and set the stage, via legislation, for making lasting inroads against graft. In 2019, the Malaysian government has a chance to push through serious reforms designed to battle corruption, improve government transparency, and protect civil society, showcasing real democratic progress.