The intent of the Indonesian National Armed Forces (TNI) to establish a Cyber Force needs to be supported, but not rushed.

In response to the recent hacking of TNI Strategic Intelligence Agency data in June 2024, the TNI commander, General Agus Subiyanto, declared that he would expand the TNI structure to include a new cyber force. Other government leaders, such as the then-chief of the TNI Information Center Maj. Gen. R. Nugraha Gumilar, claimed that the information obtained by the hacker was outdated, thereby attempting to downplay the event. Subiyanto took the incident as quite a slap in the face for the TNI, reacting almost immediately.

The process to establish this new force began quickly. At a joint session of the House of Representatives and the Regional Representative Council on 16 August 2024, the chairman of the People’s Consultative Assembly (MPR), Bambang Soesatyo, suggested the creation of the service. If created, the cyber force would become the fourth force after the army, navy, and air force.

This decision should be welcomed, as strengthening cybersecurity in Indonesia is a must. Indonesia has experienced a significant increase in cyberattacks since the beginning of 2024. According to the Indonesian-based civil society organisation on digital rights, SAFEnet, the frequency of events has doubled compared to data from the same period last year. Despite this, in Southeast Asia region, Indonesia is placed behind Malaysia, Singapore and Thailand in assessments of its cybersecurity capability level by the National Cyber Security Index. Indonesia’s vulnerability is what led to a failure of the TNI to protect itself.

However, before going further, the TNI needs to weigh up a few vital issues. The establishment of this new force must be comprehensively examined through consultation with various parties, especially relevant experts.

Given predictions that it will consume quite a substantial amount of the military budget, the establishment of the cyber force should not hamper the modernisation of the TNI’s main weaponry system, as this equipment will define Indonesia’s deterrence and active combat capabilities far into the future. Furthermore, Indonesia is currently failing to meet the minimum essential force. Without the right amount of personnel, the cyber force will be a hollow shell from the very start.

Next, the TNI needs to establish clear lines of demarcation and communication with existing institutions that deal with cyber security, most especially the civilian agencies. The Ministry of Communication and Informatics and the National Cyber and Crypto Agency must work closely with this new force. It’s crucial that the establishment of the cyber force does not create any overlap of authority between institutions, which would become a cyber vulnerability itself.

To avoid overlapping authorities, new legal and updated frameworks are necessary. The TNI Law, the National Defence Law, the Law on the Management of National Resources for National Defence (PSDN), and the Presidential Regulation on the organisation of the TNI must all be amended. Moreover, the cybersecurity and cyber resilience draft bill, which will fortify protection and security regulations for all data, will require additions based on changes to the other laws.

Finding the right personnel for the force will be an issue as well. While the TNI might find the number of people easily, it will be initially difficult to assess quality. Cyber and military culture are often opposed to one another, meaning the more experienced individuals in the cyber field might initially baulk at the thought of being in uniform. Finally, the TNI will be actively competing with multiple parties in recruiting and retaining qualified cyber personnel. The TNI will need to provide a competitive offer to potential recruits to attract the most qualified personnel and will have to tailor it to the culture it seeks to engage with directly.

It will also be crucial for the government to set clear boundaries on the powers of the force itself in order to uphold human rights and prevent encroachment from the military into civil spaces. There are concerns that the force’s projected offensive ability to control cyberspace will hinder people’s critical voices and freedom of expression. Should threats arise, whether domestically or internationally, this force—like all military forces—can be used against its own people in times of crisis.

In preparing for the establishment of a cyber force, Indonesia can look at Australia, which recently officially established a new cyber command. This command is designed to strengthen the ADF and work across its existing services. The equally-recently signed Defence Cooperation Agreement between Australia and Indonesia provides the perfect platform for Indonesia to explore the process of establishing their cyber force as the ADF sets up its own. In doing so, it can avoid many of the pitfalls before they ever happen.

Is the establishment of a cyber force a pressing need? Yes. Is it ambitious? Yes. Can it fail? Yes—if it is rushed.

Since it was announced in August, Indonesia’s plan to relocate its capital to East Kalimantan in Borneo has engendered much debate, but few have examined the potential military and strategic implications of the move.

The Indonesian military (TNI) will significantly increase its presence across Kalimantan—effectively ‘militarising’ Borneo. The map below shows the current deployment of most major TNI assets and bases across Kalimantan.

Map created by the author using Google Maps.

The deployment suggests the clustering of current TNI forces—roughly around 20,000 personnel—in the eastern, western and northern parts of Kalimantan. It is also army-heavy at the moment. The few naval and air force bases are relatively small and underdeveloped for major platform deployments; the air force has only one major base, while the navy has two.

This posture will change significantly as major leadership and force elements move to Kalimantan with the new capital. The TNI General Headquarters will move, along with its supporting staff and units, from intelligence groups and military police to special forces and press officers.

The army leadership and its supporting infrastructure will follow suit. To supplement the two existing regional commands (KODAMs), the Army will create a new Capital Security Regional Command (KODAM PIK). The new army headquarters and KODAM PIK will require around 15,000 personnel, including an infantry and a cavalry brigade as well as special forces units.

While most of these troops are territorial forces, the proposal will eventually bring the total number of combat-ready troops across Kalimantan to three brigades (around 7,000–8,000 personnel). Army analysts have also suggested that Kalimantan needs new forces across the island, including one KODAM and its accompanying units for each of the five provinces.

The navy will also move its headquarters and supporting units. Current proposals call for a new ‘armada-level’ force, a new division-level marine unit and a third primary naval base in Kalimantan. The area also needs new port facilities and bases to host and maintain major platforms as well as a new naval airfield. The navy’s transport command and hydrographic service could possibly be relocated there as well.

The air force will move its headquarters and supporting units and create major bases and facilities. Radar and missile defence units along with a special forces battalion and two aviation squadrons could be established near the new capital. Major platforms will be deployed in the area, including possibly up to 16 new F-16V fighter aircraft.

The government would need to spend more than US$9 billion—almost equal to next year’s total defence budget—to pay for these shifts in the coming years. If the plans materialise, Kalimantan will be the first ever non-Java military centre of gravity for Indonesia.

But the new capital will also be closer to potential conflict flashpoints. It will share borders with Malaysia and Brunei. It will also be closer to the tri-border area (with Malaysia and the Philippines) that analysts have called a ‘key hub’ for transnational terrorist and criminal activities.

Eastern Kalimantan also sits at the heart of the Makassar Strait—a central feature of the second of Indonesia’s three strategic archipelagic sea lanes (ASL II), which includes the Lombok Strait. Some consider the Lombok and Makassar straits as an alternative to Malacca Strait as a direct route between the Indian and Pacific oceans.

The Makassar Strait stretches about 400 nautical miles from its northern gateway to its southern access. Each year, 420 mostly large ships (over 100,000 tonnes deadweight) travel through the Lombok and Makassar passageway carrying around 36 million tonnes of cargo worth US$40 billion.

Given these interests, the TNI arguably needs to increase its presence across Kalimantan. That would complement its growing presence in Sulawesi in recent years, which includes a new submarine port in Palu and a third infantry division of the army’s Strategic Reserve Command near Makassar. Control and safety over ASL II will thus come from the TNI’s presence in both Kalimantan and Sulawesi.

But military presence alone is insufficient. Indonesia should also boost its defence diplomatic engagement and activities.

Indonesia should put more resources into expanding and institutionalising its trilateral cooperation with Malaysia and the Philippines. That will not only be crucial for the new capital’s security but also assuage concerns over the TNI’s heavy presence.

Indonesia should have regular consultations with Malaysia and Brunei. It might also consider starting a dialogue with the members of the Five Power Defence Arrangements: Singapore, Australia, New Zealand, Malaysia and the UK.

Indonesia certainly has no expansionist designs, but historical acrimonies cast a long shadow on both sides. To avoid starting another round of security dilemmas, the TNI’s shift to Kalimantan should be paired with opening up new avenues of dialogue and cooperative activities.

Finally, if Jokowi (and presumably his successor in 2024) carries on with the move, Indonesia’s defence policy will be hamstrung for the next decade. Any available resources for procurement, welfare improvement and organisational development will be diverted to the Kalimantan deployment plans.

For now, the TNI will focus on organisational restructuring. In September, it appointed the first three commanders of the new Joint Regional Defence Commands, which aren’t yet fully staffed and operational, much like other newly created units in recent years. But Indonesia’s regional power and profile will be significantly boosted if all of the plans for the TNI outlined above materialise.

The new capital will have significant strategic implications. The TNI and the Indonesian political leadership should carefully assess their options in Kalimantan and consider the broader regional—not just the bureaucratic or domestic—circumstances.

In his book on the transformation of the Indonesian Armed Forces (TNI) Lieutenant General (Retired) Agus Wijojo—now Governor of the National Resilience College in Jakarta—outlined the security sector reforms (SSR) undertaken by the TNI since the fall of Suharto and which of the reforms are still to be completed.

The major steps that still need to be taken include a comprehensive review of the policy, strategy and structure of the TNI and the completion of a legislative agenda that would, among other measures, regulate the employment of the TNI in assisting the police and civil community.

Agus concluded that the TNI had gone as far as could be expected to modernise and reform and it was now up to the executive and parliament to carry the SSR forward—but neither institution has shown much interest in the matter. President Jokowi and the TNI appear to be in an alliance of necessity which will unlikely be broken before the next elections.

In searching for answers as to why the SSR haven’t progressed since 2004, there’s little point placing the blame solely on the TNI. We have to ask why there’s no constituency for reform.

The issue that most fixates observers is the continuing dominance of the army, despite Jokowi’s maritime focus, and its retention of a bloated territorial command structure that Agus suggests could be radically pruned.

If there’s no change in Indonesia’s foreign policy, an objective review would probably conclude that Indonesia’s underlying defence policy and strategy of total people’s defence and guerrilla war, with a progressively more capable conventional military deterrent, remains valid. Regardless of how likely or imminent an external threat seemed  a review would suggest radical changes in the territorial commands and their supporting units in light of the social and technological changes that have occurred over the last 20 years.

So why has the executive and legislature not insisted on such a review? The first reason is that former president Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono had other priorities, especially resolving the Aceh separatist struggle and fostering economic growth, beginning reform of a corrupt and inefficient bureaucracy, and promoting Indonesia’s place in the world. He had no desire to pick a fight with the military and was adept at keeping them at bay while he pursued his other priorities.

In the absence of strong parliamentary support and a near revolt by the police in February 2015, Jokowi came to see the military as both Praetorian Guard and useful instrument to push and secure his economic development agenda at the grass roots level.

The absence of a reform constituency can also be attributed to a military that has successfully sold the notion that Indonesia is a weak and vulnerable nation likely to be overwhelmed by debilitating foreign influences or split asunder by domestic tensions—or some combination thereof—if the TNI isn’t immediately at hand.

Islamic terrorism, especially since the declaration of the Caliphate in the Middle East in 2014, has increasingly galvanised the elite to close ranks to counter the extremist message. Various initiatives, including the Defence Ministry’s Defend the Nation Program, have been launched over the last few years to revive the Pancasila as the basis for an inclusive national Islamic community and thwart the appeal of a Caliphate or calls for the adoption of an Islamic state.

Another obstacle to the SSR is the incapacity of the government and political structures at all levels to provide the services for which they were formed effectively and efficiently. That’s provided the rationale for Jokowi’s employment of the military in a number of civil functions. The military has accepted those tasks because it reinforces their self-image and demonstrates their indispensability in the minds of the public. It’s perfectly legitimate for the government to employ the military in civil tasks as long as it’s done in accordance with the law and doesn’t embroil the military in partisan politics. What’s lacking is the relevant legislative and regulatory framework.

Although the police are in drastic need of fundamental reform, they’ve been successful so far in containing terrorism, which has quelled the TNI’s demand so far for a greater role in counterterrorism. Whether Jokowi can withstand that pressure has yet to be seen but much will depend on how successful the newly appointed chief of police, General Tito Karnavian, is at pushing police reform. To achieve that, he’ll need the support of the other members of the justice sector.

What might revive the SSR? Perhaps an external shock, like a clash between patrol vessels protecting fishing or exploration in the EEZ, or frequent incursions by foreign military aircraft, or an attack on the forces of another ASEAN member could be the prompt. Perhaps an internal shock such as a revolt or a botched internal security response, or a poor response to a national disaster might provide the spark. Perhaps an improvement in public service delivery might make continued employment of the TNI in civil tasks unnecessary and create the political circumstance that allowed the government to resume the SSR. An objective review now would at least provide an intellectual basis for reform made necessary by either crisis or evolution.