After one of the most tumultuous campaigns in Indonesian history, the incumbent governor of Jakarta, Basuki Tjahaja Purnama (Ahok) was soundly defeated by former Education Minister and academic, Anies Baswedan, in the second round of the election held on 19 April. Most exit polls have Anies winning about 57% of the vote to Ahok’s 43%.

What made this election so significant was the role of race and faith in determining the final result. The open vilification of Ahok on religious and racial grounds has no precedent in any Indonesian election.

Eight months ago, the Jakarta election appeared to be following the familiar pattern of voting behaviour being driven by perceptions of the incumbent’s performance. A governor or mayor who was seen to having done a good job would usually be re-elected. In mid-2016, Ahok was strongly placed with opinion surveys recording some two-thirds of respondents regarding him as an effective governor who had managed the city well—most intended to vote for him, giving him a large lead over his opponents. His double minority status as a Chinese Christian didn’t greatly dent his popularity, despite the attempts of Islamist groups to discredit him.

Religion only became a powerful issue when Ahok asserted in late September 2016 that the Quran didn’t forbid Muslims from voting for non-Muslims. His remarks were seized on by Islamists and anti-Ahok politicians to mobilise massive demonstrations against him which effectively forced the government to charge him with blasphemy. His electoral support fell by half in November and December, though recovered somewhat in early 2017, allowing him to win a narrow 43% to 40% victory over Anies in the first round in February, and to eliminate from the gubernatorial race Agus Harimurti, the son of ex-president Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono, who gained just 17%.

The outcome of the second round of the election now hinged largely on who Agus’ voters would support. First round exit polls showed that nearly all Agus’ voters intended to back Anies, though Ahok hoped he could attract enough of them to have a chance of winning. In the end, his hopes were dashed; nearly all of Agus’ voters supported Anies, leaving Ahok with roughly the same number of votes in April as he gained in February.

The lack of movement from Agus’ support base to Ahok is indicative of the depth of polarisation in the Jakarta electorate along religious and ethnic lines. For a large majority of Jakarta’s Muslim community—85% of the city’s population—Ahok was unelectable not because he’d been an incompetent governor but rather because they believed he’d insulted their faith and was also part of the economically dominant Chinese minority whose privileged position they had long resented. Interestingly, Anies is also from an ethnic minority, being of Arab descent, though this proved not to be a problem for him given that he’s from a well-known family of Muslim leaders.

Although the most scurrilous attacks came from fervent Islamists, many mainstream opponents of Ahok, including Anies himself and SBY, harnessed this antipathy for their political purposes, often using allusive sectarian or ethnic references to align themselves with the calumnising of Ahok.

Deservedly, commentators have directed much criticism towards those who have exploited Islamic and anti-Chinese sentiment for political gain. Such tactics have been largely absent from politics over the past half century and they have badly tainted Indonesian democracy.

But Ahok shouldn’t escape criticism. His advisors and supporters had long pleaded with him not to speak on sensitive Islamic issues, but he was heedless. In effect, he gave to his enemies the material they needed to defeat him politically. This points to a certain recklessness in his personality which is a serious liability for a minority politician presiding over a diverse and volatile electorate.

Ahok’s political career is probably finished but it’s likely that Jokowi will seek to appoint him to a key bureaucratic or executive position. The day after the election, prosecutors at Ahok’s trial, perhaps with the government’s blessing, made the surprise decision not to seek a jail term, paving the way for him to complete his gubernatorial term and pursue other senior positions.

Anies’ election is a setback for president Jokowi and his re-election plans. Having been sacked by Jokowi from the ministry in 2016, Anies bears little good will to the president. He can be expected to use the governorship to undermine Jokowi and hinder his preparations for the 2019 presidential election. Anies has his own presidential ambitions, though he’s more likely to be the running mate to Prabowo Subianto, his main backer and Jokowi’s 2014 rival, in the next presidential election.

Jakarta itself is also likely to be worse off after this election. Anies, though decent and highly intelligent, hasn’t distinguished himself as a resolute leader possessed of the courage to tackle the city’s entrenched problems and confront its intimidating vested interests. Ahok had a devil-may-care attitude in cleaning up the city’s administration and forcing through long-overdue policy reforms. Anies is unlikely to follow suit.

The journalist questions in the Oz election debate on foreign policy started with the South China Sea and ended on China’s suppression of internal dissent.

As with the defence debate last week, China throbs.

In the National Press Club debate between Foreign Minister Julie Bishop, and Labor’s shadow Foreign Minister, Tanya Plibersek, China got more questions than the Middle East or foreign aid or the dangers of Britain exiting Europe.

The bipartisan tone of the defence debate echoed in foreign affairs. Plibersek pointed to the common ground between the major parties on what Labor calls the three pillars: the US alliance, international institutions and engagement with Asia, now rendered as the Indo–Pacific.

I’d stretch the metaphor to say China has become a tacit fourth column; it’s big and impressive and holds up much of Asia’s sky. And then there’s the fear that the fourth column also has some of the hostile or subversive characteristics of a fifth column.

Julie Bishop’s opening statement naturally enough emphasised the positives: ‘There’s huge opportunity for us in Asia where change is exponential. About 20 years ago, less than a fifth of the world’s middle class was in Asia. In ten years time, it’ll be two-thirds.’

Thanks, China, Long may the fourth column hold up the sky.

To get a quick read on the Oz foreign policy debate—such as it is in this election—look at these pieces for the Australian Institute of International Affairs by the Coalition, Labor and the Greens.

Along with the usual political biffo, Labor and the Coalition look at a similar world in familiar ways.

The Greens take you to a different place—and all power to their elbow. Which is one of many reasons why the big two elbow the Greens as much as possible.

The foreign policy debate was between the two sides reaching for government. On that basis, the Liberal and Labor parties can deny the Greens a seat on the stage— denying the Greens anything is another bit of bipartisanship.

Bishop’s piece for the AIIA was most explicit in picking over the danger of China going from fourth column to fifth column.

Asia’s strategic and economic blessings from the 1950s, Bishop wrote, rested on a liberal order ‘underwritten by the uncontested maritime power and reach of the United States.’

The big job now, she said, is to preserve that order. The ‘enormously important issue’ is to ‘ensure that an increasingly powerful China emerges as a responsible and constructive contributor to regional affairs, and eventually assume its rightful place as a regional leader within that order.’

We want that China column to support, not undermine.

The language about China as responsible and constructive and taking its rightful place is familiar; it’s now a few decades old. Yet these days the same words come through gritted teeth with just a hint of shrill desperation.

And so to the China salvos lobbed by the hacks at the Press Club.

As with the defence debate, the first question was about the South China Sea.

Last week, Labor’s Defence shadow, Stephen Conroy, was gung-ho about the need for Australia to sail in and fly over 12 mile zones to challenge China’s ‘absurd building of artificial islands on top of submerged reefs.’

By contrast, Labor’s Tanya Plibersek is more gentle with little gung. She said Labor’s national security committee backed the Conroy approach but the important thing is ‘not to talk these things up in a way to contribute to tension.’

Julie Bishop said Australia wouldn’t be provocative in its approach to China’s 12 mile zones. My translation: Australia’s Navy isn’t going to follow the the US inside those zones just yet.

As Bishop put it: ‘We will continue to traverse the water and the skies around the South China Sea as we have always done. Because for us to change operations now, I believe, would escalate tensions and that would not be in the interest of the claimant countries or our relationships with countries in the region.’

That drew this followup from the chair, Chris Uhlmann: ‘You would tell us if you got within 10 miles wouldn’t you?’

Bishop: ‘The boundary is 12 nautical miles, so if we are 12.1 nautical miles we are still within our standard operational procedure.’

The strongest words on China from the Foreign Minister were on Beijing’s statement that it won’t abide by the decision of the International Court of Justice on the South China Sea:

‘There will be enormous international pressure on China to abide by the findings of the international, rules-based order under which we all exist, that has provided so much stability and security for the globe. And there will be incredible pressure on China. It will do irreparable harm to its reputation if it thumbs its nose at the findings of the arbitration court.’

Lots of pressure in prospect for China.

The problem with a big and important column is that it’s very hard to shift.

Australia prides itself on the strength of its relationship with China and Canberra’s ability to speak directly to Beijing. The test is to be heard or heeded.

It’s budget week in Canberra. Politicians and influencers fly in to confab with stressed bureaucrats, complain about the cold and fog and watch autumn leaves falling faster than interest rates. At this time thoughts turn naturally to the quality of Australian public administration. At ASPI we have for years met many curious international visitors who all ask: why has Australia lost the ability to make practical, reforming policy decisions?

It’s a hard question to answer. On the surface, the quality of Australian government continues to rank among the best on the planet. The World Bank’s Worldwide Governance Indicators puts Australia at the top of the league in ‘governance effectiveness’ alongside the Scandinavians and Canadians, and well ahead of the British, French and Japanese. Almost all other countries lag behind. Yet the reality is that Australia has had as many changes of Prime Minister since 2007 as Chad, which languishes at the bottom of the World Bank’s index. Richard Nixon reportedly said ‘the Prime Minister of Chad doesn’t matter; we treat them nice, but none of them matter.’ Does Barack Obama think that about Australia?

In the last few years the Australian Government suffered through a hung parliament and even after a decisive election outcome in 2013, the Abbott Government has been unable to conclude Senate passage of the 2014 budget. A number of state governments have been voted out of office after only one term. The ability to make big reforms in taxation, healthcare, social spending and most other parts of government seem to fail in the face of immovable opposition from sectional groups and voters. One of the sharpest observers of Australian politics, Paul Kelly, judges that:

‘Australia’s political system is failing to deliver the results needed for the nation…The process of debate, competition and elections leading to national progress has broken down.’

Kelly concludes his book, Triumph and Demise, by saying that ‘Australia slumbers in prosperity but responds with resolution to crisis.’ But let’s not wait for Pearl Harbor. A small number of reforms to our system of government could go a long way to improving the quality of policy-making. Here I suggest three reforms to parliamentary elections that would help swing the system more towards supporting good policy and away from populist short-term thinking.

Four-year fixed terms for the House of Representatives

As David Cameron contemplates a five-year period of office following the UK election, spare a thought for Australian prime ministers elected for just 36 months. The cliché is true: governments spend their first year working out how to run the country, their middle year trying to effect change and their last year campaigning for the coming election. As voters switch their allegiances more quickly, governments risk removal just as Ministers hit their stride. Policies are biased to show quick outcomes and needed but difficult reforms are shelved. A four-year term would create a longer middle game where experience and capacity to make reforms combine.

Downsides: A three-year bad government could become a four-year bad government.

Achievability: A referendum would be required to change the Constitution (s28), which provides for three year terms. A favourable referendum outcome would only be possible if there was strong bipartisan support for four year terms.

Minimum voting threshold for Senate seats

Our complex preferential voting system for Senate candidates elects individuals to the sixth available seat (in a half Senate election) on the basis of preference flows rather than direct support. For example, in the 2013 election Ricky Muir of the Australian Motoring Enthusiast Party became the sixth Victorian Senator elected on the basis of 479 personal votes (0.01% of voters) and 16,604 ticket votes for his party (0.49% of voters). As is the case in New Zealand, a 5% threshold should be established which a candidate and party has to reach to eligible for election. The effect of this would be to reduce an unintended consequence of the Senate electoral system to elect marginal candidates that can find themselves holding the balance of power and able to prevent the passage of critical government legislation.

Downsides: Hard to see any.

Achievability: The electoral act would need to be amended, which means passage through the Senate, so bipartisan support will be needed. The minor parties would likely object, but a 5% threshold will not weaken minor parties, so much as discourage electoral gaming by micro parties.

Add more House of Representatives MPs.

Given Australian dislike for politicians, one might as well advocate being nasty to puppies, but a sensible case can be made for adding more MPs based on the growing population size of electorates. Australia doesn’t exactly have one vote one value. There are about 130,000 voters in each of Canberra’s two electorates, but less than 75,000 in each of Tasmania’s five seats—that’s because the constitution specifies there must be five seats in each founding state. In NSW and Victoria electorates have around 100,000 voters. Contrast this with international experience: In Canada’s 2011 election 14.8 million people voted in 308 seats, an average of 48,000 voters per seat. In the 2015 UK election 46 million people were eligible to vote in 650 seats, an average of 71,000 per seat. Australian MPs are overloaded simply responding to electoral matters and as a result, are less able to focus on national policy. A larger Parliament would be a more considered place for shaping good policy.

Downsides: More politicians. That’s also the upside, but just try selling it to the electorate.

Achievability: This is a matter of amending the electoral act, accepting that constitutional reform to change the position of Tasmania, the ACT and NT is not advisable.

In a later post I will present options for reforming Parliamentary procedure and for changing aspects of Cabinet and Ministerial processes which could all significantly improve prospects for delivering better policy.