Joko Widodo’s Fleeting Maritime Ambitions: An Actor-Specific Analysis of Indonesia’s Global Maritime Fulcrum

Introduction

The ‘Global Maritime Fulcrum (GMF)’ was first espoused in Joko ‘Jokowi’ Widodo’s presidential campaign in 2014. The vision was further affirmed after his electoral victory when Jokowi called for the country to ‘work together to develop Indonesia into a global maritime axis, a global civilization hub’ (Tempo, 2014). In 2015, Jokowi announced the five pillars of the GMF which included maritime diplomacy, maritime culture, maritime defence, maritime economy and maritime identity. A more comprehensive iteration of the policy was conceived in 2017 when the Coordinating Ministry for Maritime Affairs (CMMA) published a policy document titled ‘Indonesian Ocean Policy’ (also referred to as Presidential Decree no. 16/2017). Domestically, Jokowi has embarked on a developmental fervour reminiscent of Suharto’s developmentalist agenda in the 1970s. Several high-profile infrastructure projects, such as the Sea Toll Road and the Jakarta–Bandung high-speed railway, have been implemented with alacrity and praised for lowering logistics costs and increasing inter-island connectivity. At the international level, Jokowi has been actively promoting Indonesian economic interests and pitching infrastructure projects at numerous high-level meeting. Yet the promotion of diplomatic structures related to Indonesia’s position vis-à-vis regional and global partners was largely absent in his GMF vision, despite it being touted as a geopolitical reassertion of Indonesia’s regional and global role. By the end of his first term, many of the promises in the GMF, such as the revitalisation of Indonesian maritime identity, a reorientation to the seas and a more maritime-oriented foreign policy, remained lofty aspirations. As Jokowi enters his second term in office, he displayed minimal interest in continuing the GMF. Instead, he doubled down on land-based infrastructure development and pursuing foreign investment (ANTARA, 2019).

This study seeks to understand why the GMF declined in its importance through the lens of actor-specific theory. It examines Jokowi’s political ‘self’, which is the main intervening variable in his foreign policy decisions. This study makes two observations. First, Jokowi’s inexperience in foreign policy led to a ‘hands-off’ approach in the issue areas observed. Second, his overt technocratic outlook contributed to ad-hoc decisions, which eventually impeded the development of key GMF policies. To demonstrate this argument, this study first elaborates the actor-specific approach used as the framework for analysis. Second, it depicts Jokowi’s ‘political self’ by describing Jokowi’s upbringing and early political career as mayor of Solo and governor of Jakarta, which constitute a formative period for his political style. Third, this study reviews selected policies related to the GMF and examines how the political ‘self’ intervenes in the implementation of GMF-related policies.

Actor-Specific Theory:   A Review

States are expected to act as rational actors, continuously adjusting their conduct in response to systemic changes in the distribution of power, based on rational cost–benefit calculations. However, Neorealism, along with other system-centric International Relations (IR) theories, has been amply criticised for leaving out the internal machinations of the state in analysing foreign policy and state behaviour (Acharya, 2014; Hudson, 2005; Lobell et al., 2009). By leaving out the domestic bases—which in Waltz (2001) parlance, constitute the ‘first’ and ‘second’ images—of foreign policy, structural IR theories fall short of constructing a comprehensive picture of state motivations in IR. This has been documented in multiple cases, where state behaviour seemingly does not necessarily follow the relative power-driven rational logic proposed by Neorealism and are instead driven by an array of domestic factors (Berger, 1993; Cha, 2000; Green, 2001; Hirata, 2008).

The primary variable that this study focuses on is the character of the leaders, also referred to as the foreign policy elite (FPE). The importance of the FPE is due to its position as the intermediary actor between the international and domestic contexts of foreign policy, which Putnam (1988) describes as a ‘two-level’ game. The FPE, comprising either the head of state or government, cabinet members, ministers and key advisors, have important privileged information—both classified and unclassified—regarding international affairs which allow them to make more informed decisions. Their position as intermediaries also means that external stimuli is interpreted through their own cognitive filters, which may lead to leaders having different perceptions of different problems, which in turn leads to differences in policy formulation and implementation (Ripsman et al., 2016).

The research on the cognition of leaders and their intervening effect on foreign policy formulation characterised the early approaches in the field of foreign policy analysis (Breuning, 2007). Harold and Margaret Sprout conceptualised the psycho-milieu as how individuals perceive and understand their psychological and operational environment (Sprout & Sprout, 1956). The psycho-milieu is conceptualised as an actor’s ‘frame of reference’, which comprises perception, valuation and evaluation of external stimuli (Snyder et al., 2002, p. 124). In constructing the frame of reference, the leader’s psychological profile has often been used as a starting point for understanding their cognitive processes, or how they understand and perceive their position in relation to other actors within a specified social setting. In a similar vein to the psycho-milieu approach, the operational codes approach specifically focuses on the leader’s set of beliefs, philosophical outlook and perception of others, as variables influencing a leader’s response to external stimuli (George & George, 1956; Leites, 1951; Walker & Falkowski, 2007). However, these individual-centric explanations have often been disregarded as lacking explanatory power and thus have been relegated to the back seat in favour of structuralist explanations of international politics, which Waltz terms the ‘third image’ (see Waltz, 1979). Among the advocates of a more personal approach to IR, Byman and Pollack present a compelling argument for returning to the individual bases of foreign policy. They object to Waltz’s preference for the ‘third image’ and make the case that rather than being rejected outright, the ‘first image’ was ignored in favour of the more parsimonious ‘third image’. Drawing from the conduct of contemporary leaders such as Mohammed Bin Salman, Ayatollah Khomeini and Erdogan, Byman and Pollack (2001, 2019) demonstrate how leaders are capable of controlling and moulding structural forces—both domestic and international—to suit their political objectives and preferences.

Both classical and contemporary scholarships on Indonesian foreign policy have also relied on the individual level of analysis, often focusing on the ‘political self’ as a variable which explains the conduct and preferences of leaders. Feith’s (2007) classical analysis on Sukarno and Hatta’s personalities and leadership styles examined the differences between the figures and how their diverging styles complemented the formulation and implementation of Indonesian foreign policy. Sebastian and Lanti (2010), in their exploration of indigenous sources of Indonesian IR theory, assert that cultural influences may provide a useful framework of observation for foreign policy decision-making. In particular, Sebastian and Lanti focus on the dominant Javanese conceptions of state and practices of statecraft in driving Indonesian foreign policy. In a more contemporary vein, Fitriani (2015) and Fealy (2015) both examined former President Yudhoyono’s psycho-milieu and how it influences his decisions at the international and domestic levels, respectively. Fitriani examined Yudhoyono’s motivational and emotional profiles using an at-a-distance approach, which were then used to understand Yudhoyono’s formulation and implementation of foreign policy. Yudhoyono’s foreign policy could be described as peaceful prestige-seeking, which stems from Yudhoyono’s conflict-averse psyche and his desire to impress others. Fealy’s (2015, p. 39) observation found insecurity, which resulted in vanity, as a major psychological factor in explaining Yudhoyono’s indecision in policymaking at the domestic level and his tendency to seek praise internationally to prove that he could ‘become someone’ (menjadi orang). This study aims to further extend the use of these actor-specific tools to analyse Jokowi’s psycho-milieu and their influences in contemporary Indonesian foreign policy.

From ‘Jokowi the Businessman’ to ‘Jokowi the Politician’: The Formative Years of Jokowi’s Political ‘Self’

Jokowi’s rapid ascent from mayor of Solo to governor of Jakarta to President of Indonesia is a unique phenomenon in Indonesian politics. Some argue that this meteoric rise was enabled by a variety of post-Suharto democratic forces, such as a more active and engaged civil society (Bünte, 2009; Mietzner, 2015b). In contrast, some also argue that it was oligarchic power that supported Jokowi’s rise (Fukuoka & Djani, 2016; Tapsell, 2016). Regardless of the factors enabling Jokowi to rise from obscurity to prominence, Jokowi’s rapid transition from mayor to President poses an interesting question: how has it affected the development of Jokowi’s political ‘self’? This section charts Jokowi’s upbringing and political career to understand how he has formed his political ‘self’.

Jokowi’s parents, Notomiharjo (father) and Sujiatmi (mother), came from two different backgrounds. Notomiharjo was the son of the lurah (village chief) of Kragan; whereas, Sujiatmi was the daughter of a timber seller in Boyolali. They lived in a village north of Solo, where Jokowi was born in June 1961. The convergence of leadership and entrepreneurial influences from his grandfather and father would form the foundation for Jokowi’s managerial style (Mas’udi & Ramdhon, 2018, pp. 28–29). The young Jokowi often observed how his grandfather, Lamidi Wiryomiharjo, carried out his duties as a village chief. Unlike typical Javanese priyayi (a term referring to the ruling class in Javanese society), Wiryomiharjo was described as a ‘people’s person’ and ‘always willing to lend help in his capacity as government official and individual’ despite his own economic difficulties (Mas’udi & Ramdhon, 2018, pp. 70–72). Jokowi’s inclination to start his own business was mostly influenced by his father. In his autobiography, he confides, ‘Father’s fortitude in insisting on financing my tuition has strongly inspired me. I will follow his footsteps and run the timber business’ (Endah, 2019, p. 40). Despite his grandfather being a village chief, Jokowi was brought up within a largely non-priyayi yet relatively conservative Javanese environment. A large part of his childhood was spent along riverbanks, places where socio-economically marginalised communities resided and made their living. As he reminisces in his autobiography, ‘Poverty had taught me well […] but from this environment of endless wants, I learned incredible lessons from marginalized people’ (Endah, 2019, p. 27). Though his childhood struggles may have been slightly exaggerated, his experiences in poverty and self-identification with the poor remain a consistent aspect of his political ‘self’, as it often forms the ideational basis for many of his later pro-people programmes. Despite living in relative poverty, Jokowi managed to attend good schools and eventually enrolled in Gadjah Mada University. Though he was sporadically involved in clandestine student movements, many of which were suppressed under the Suharto administration, his political awareness had yet to develop. He did not show commitment to a specific political ideology, despite his father being a low-ranking member of the Indonesian Democratic Party (PDI; predecessor to the PDI-P) who was active in studying Soekarno’s speeches and biographies (Mietzner, 2015b, p. 24).

The key formative years of Jokowi’s governmental style were during his experiences in developing his own furniture company. As Bland (2020, p. 12) notes, ‘to understand Jokowi the politician, you need to understand Jokowi the furniture seller’. After his graduation from Gadjah Mada University and a short stint at his uncle’s paper company in Aceh for two years, Jokowi began his furniture business. In the 1990s, his business grew exponentially, facilitating upward mobility for his family. It was also during this period that Jokowi developed an aversion to bureaucracy, which was particularly influenced by his bitter experiences in securing funding for his business expansion (Mietzner, 2015b, p. 25). With the help of several friends, he established and chaired the Solo branch of the Indonesian Furniture and Crafts Businesses Association (Asosiasi Mebel dan Industri Kerajinan Indonesia). Under Jokowi’s leadership, the association managed to develop a 25-hectare timber and furniture industrial zone in Sragen (Purnomo & Medianti, 2019). Being a leader of the association also provided Jokowi opportunities to develop his managerial style which he would further develop and apply in governance in his tenure as mayor of Solo. As he confides in his autobiography, his time in the association made him aware of the inability of the local government in creating a conducive environment for local businesses (Endah, 2019, p. 62). This business-oriented outlook would later be a persistent and often dominant characteristic of his political ‘self’, which is often manifested in Jokowi’s transactional approach to foreign affairs.

After Jokowi succeeded in establishing his business, he decided to run as mayor. It was during this time that one could see the emergence of an early form of ‘Jokowi the politician’, which blends both his business and managerial experience with traits from his Javanese upbringing. Based on his experiences of directly observing his businesses, he adopted a pro-people campaign centred on meeting his constituents directly, known as blusukan (Javanese, lit. ‘impromptu visit’). Though Jokowi described blusukan in positive terms as ‘not just visiting a place, but reaching to the deepest corners, feeling the life of the people in the deepest alleys invisible to outsiders, and breathing in the atmosphere which remains untouched’ (Endah, 2019, p. 71), the method also emerged out of political necessity. He had limited campaign funds despite being backed by the Indonesian Democratic Party of Struggle (PDIP), one of the largest political parties in Indonesia with a strong middle- and lower-class base. Furthermore, despite PDIP being the dominant party in Solo, his electability was also lower than his competitors. These conditions meant he could not rely on flashy mass entertainment, a signature campaign tactic to draw in the middle-lower class voters. Instead, he decided to conduct informal visits to industrial areas, traditional markets, rural areas and slums where he could listen to the people’s problems directly while also cultivating his image as a ‘down-to-earth’ politician. In this way, Jokowi’s blusukan defied the conventional elite, or pejabat, culture and turned out to be effective in winning over his constituents (Mas’udi, 2017, p. 163). As mayor, he oversaw broad bureaucratic reforms, including improving transparency and cutting red tape. He saw these as ‘management control’ measures to create better governance, even if it meant upsetting the entrenched priyayi values among the bureaucrats (New York Times, 2014). He also reinvigorated Solo’s cultural scene and managed to co-opt citizens and NGO initiatives to develop the city’s local economy (Fahmi et al., 2015; Mas’udi, 2014). In these instances, Jokowi practiced several Javanese cultural beliefs. He emphasised a humanistic and united approach—nguwongke uwong and juwing kaula gusti (Javanese, lit. ‘humanising humans’ and ‘unity of leader and follower’)—in his political strategy. This was manifested in his tactic of engaging street vendors in prolonged dialogue (54 meetings within seven months) until consensus was built and the vendors agreed to relocate without lingering resentment (Fahmi et al., 2015, pp. 14–15). A similar approach was repeated during his tenure as governor of Jakarta, where he also engaged street vendors during the revitalisation of Tanah Abang market. The use of non-divisive tactics is an essential mark of a Javanese leader, which emphasises a ‘soft’ (halus) approach anchored in being non-confrontational and consensus-building (Anderson, 2007, p. 32).

His pro-people and technocratic measures earned him awards and adulation, which led to increased support from the PDIP that would prove vital to his campaign for governor of Jakarta. Jokowi also benefitted from a dedicated volunteer base and active use of social media during his campaign (Mietzner, 2014). It was during his term as Jakarta’s governor that further honed ‘Jokowi the politician’. As governor of Jakarta, Jokowi embarked on a series of pro-people and technocratic projects, such as the Kartu Jakarta Pintar (Smart Jakarta Card) and Kartu Jakarta Sehat (Healthy Jakarta Card), which provided education and health benefits, respectively. He also accelerated the development of the Jakarta Mass Rapid Transit project, which stalled during Fauzi Bowo’s administration. In terms of bureaucratic reform, he instated a merit-based system for appointing city officials known as lelang jabatan (lit. ‘office auction’), where civil service positions would be opened for ‘auction’ and civil servants could ‘bid’ for available positions based on relevant credentials and expertise. He continued his signature blusukan, which was positively received and eventually emulated by other aspiring political candidates (Cochrane, 2013).

Jokowi’s presidential campaign in 2014 was another test of his skill in enticing voters. The scale of the national election was vastly different compared to regional elections, and as such, Jokowi had to adjust his political narratives to better resonate with a diverse range of audiences. While he already had a reputation for his ‘humble’ persona and his performance as governor and mayor (Hatherell, 2014), Jokowi often resorted to moderately nationalistic vocabulary in his campaign, mostly focusing on human resource development and self-sufficiency. Out of seven mission statements in his 2014 campaign manifesto, four statements explicitly expressed pro-people and nationalist tendencies, such as ‘improving quality of life’ and ‘creating a competitive nation’. These ideals were crystallised in the Nawa Cita, or ‘Nine Ideals’, Jokowi’s key ideational beliefs which form the bedrock of his domestic and foreign policy (Widodo & Kalla, 2014, p. 6). These include: (a) improving protection of Indonesian nationals both at home and abroad; (b) creating clean, effective, democratic and reliable government; (c) developing peripheral and rural areas; (d) strengthening the rule of law; (e) improving quality of life; (f) improving human resources and productivity through infrastructure development; (g) achieving economic self-sufficiency; (h) conducting a ‘mental revolution’ (revolusi mental) and (i) strengthening social cohesion and unity through social dialogue.

During his term as President, Jokowi experienced further changes to his political ‘self’, namely political manipulation and a tendency towards ‘ad hocery’. In his early presidency, Jokowi developed a taste for subtle yet coercive methods in consolidating power. Though he won the presidency, he only had the support of a minority coalition in the House of Representatives. Realising that he needed to consolidate power in order to smoothen his plans, he often intervened in party politics in the parliament. By the end of 2016, Jokowi controlled a strong majority coalition. His methods were described as Machiavellian: Jokowi consolidated power by capitalising on intra-party power disputes—particularly within the large opposition parties such as Golkar, Partai Amanat Nasional (PAN), and Partai Persatuan Pembangunan (PPP)—and used the disputes as opportunities to install loyalists, ultimately assimilating them into his ruling coalition. By the end of 2016, Jokowi had managed to co-opt most of the major party coalitions in the House of Representatives, leaving only one party, Partai Keadilan Sejahtera (PKS) as the primary opposition (Mietzner, 2016, pp. 221–226). From a Javanese perspective, this strategy is consistent with the idea of ‘absorbing’ power from opponents (Anderson, 2007, p. 13). After consolidating power, Jokowi could then begin to work on his developmental agenda that he promised during his campaign. His developmental agenda involved inducing an infrastructure boom: Jokowi promised a massive electrification project (adding 35,000 megawatts to the national grid), large-scale seaport construction and development and hundreds of kilometres of additional toll roads and railroads which would facilitate the delivery of government services and expedite economic activity. In addition, Jokowi also focused on cutting bureaucratic red tape and streamlining regulation (Warburton, 2016, p. 308). His developmental agenda was ambitious and with Jokowi’s technocratic approach to governance, he was expected to carry out these plans efficiently. As Jokowi embarked on his agenda, he began showing ad hoc tendencies. He would often prioritise projects not based on its long-term efficacy or a coherent development plan, but on what would capture the most attention. As Bland (2020, p. 65) puts it, Jokowi began to form an ‘edifice complex’ characterised by his penchant for grandiose development projects despite yielding concrete results. Chief among these ad-hoc decisions was the abrupt decision early in his second term to relocate the Indonesian capital from Jakarta to the North Penajam Pasir district in East Kalimantan. The project initially drew large interest domestically and abroad, but with the enormous financial, environmental and social costs involved, the plan has been criticised as being ‘more aspirational than actionable’ (Guild, 2019).

At this point, ‘Jokowi the politician’ had fully developed. His political ‘self’ could be described as an amalgamation of both his businessman traits, which was a large part of his identity growing up, and his recently developed political traits. Though he does not consciously draw from Javanese cultural values, his political rhetoric and action is often consistent with Javanese values of leadership and power. He is also not committed to a specific political or economic ideology; instead, his outlook is largely pragmatic and results-oriented, often to the point of neglecting analysis and favouring action. He could be described as an ideal ‘public servant’ who does not seek to be held in high esteem (as the typical priyayi class), but instead, a dedicated implementor of his subjects’—mostly the lower- and middle-class—aspirations. Jokowi’s political ‘self’ could also adequately be described as being a ‘technocratic populist’, which could succinctly be described as leader who was ‘efficiency-oriented rather than demagogic, inclusive rather than exclusive, and democratic rather than authoritarian’ (Mietzner, 2015b, p. 23). However, despite his pragmatism, overt preference for results and general technocratic attitude to problems of governance, these characteristics were often muted in the formulation and implementation of the GMF, his grand maritime-oriented geopolitical ambition for Indonesia.

‘Jokowi the Politician’ and His Fleeting Maritime Ambitions

Jokowi in Maritime Development and Governance

Jokowi’s development plans were expansive, but with a limited budget, he had to set his priorities. As such, Jokowi prioritised development projects which could show faster tangible results, such as airports, toll roads and electrification. Seaports, in contrast, often require a long time to show significant economic effects and return on investment, especially when paired with poor port management and supply chain integration (Tiola, 2019). Despite allocating around USD 6 billion in 2014 to enhance domestic maritime connections, over time, maritime-oriented projects have evidently taken a backseat to land-based connectivity projects. In his remarks at the International Maritime Organization forum in 2016, Jokowi affirmed his commitment to build ‘sea connectivity between islands […] by building new seaports, upgrading already existing seaports, and adding passengers and logistics ships …’ (Sekretariat Kabinet Republik Indonesia, 2016). However, referring to the Annex of Presidential Regulation (Peraturan Presiden) no. 58/2018 on Acceleration of Implementation of National Strategic Projects (prevailing over Presidential Regulation no. 3/2016), infrastructure projects have largely been land-based. From 226 projects (223 projects and three specific programmes) designated as ‘nationally strategic’ or high priority projects, only 13 are distinctly maritime-oriented projects which include port expansion, among others, Kuala Tanjung in North Sumatra and Bitung in North Sulawesi and new seaport construction in central and eastern Indonesia. Over the last four years, the main focus of Jokowi’s developmental drive has largely been in energy (investment value of IDR 2,200 trillion), electrification (IDR 2,036 trillion), roads (IDR 670 trillion), industrial zones (IDR 418 trillion) and railroads (IDR 394 trillion). Up until 2018, 19 new seaports had been constructed and eight additional seaports were expected to be completed in 2019. In contrast, over 4,000 kilometres of roads (including highways) were constructed, along with 10 new airports (Kantor Staf Presiden [Office of Presidential Staff], 2018a, pp. 29–30).

Jokowi’s signature maritime connectivity programme, the Sea Toll Road (Tol Laut) is perhaps a key exhibit demonstrating Jokowi’s ‘edifice complex’ and tendency to hastily pursue action. Early in his presidency, Jokowi aspired to bring down the cost of goods and logistics, particularly in the eastern part of Indonesia where poor infrastructure causes delays and high operational costs. The Sea Toll Road, which would link the major ports of Tanjung Priok and Tanjung Perak with the many smaller ports in Maluku, Papua and Riau, was officially established in November 2015. Initially, the cost of operating large freighters would be subsidised by the government in hopes of attracting attention from other shippers to use the Sea Toll Road (The Jakarta Post, 2015). The Sea Toll Road project was also a perfect fit with Jokowi’s GMF vision, as it would provide the infrastructural foundation for an increased role in facilitating regional maritime trade. However, in its four years of operation (as of 2019), the Sea Toll Road has yet to be profitable. The programme has been claimed to reduce logistics costs by 30%. Though the government continues to provide generous subsidies (peaking at IDR 447 billion in 2019), the lack of economic development in the outer islands often result in low-yield return trips (Tiola, 2019).

On top of building the physical infrastructure of the GMF, Jokowi was also expected to bring a sense of order in Indonesia’s complex maritime security as part of his measures to streamline bureaucracy. Currently, Indonesia has 13 different maritime security agencies (including the Marine Police and Navy), which have overlapping authorities. So-called ‘turf wars’, often instigated over disputes of jurisdiction, are common. Though measures to streamline Indonesia’s maritime security governance have been carried out since the Yudhoyono era through the Coordinating Agency for Maritime Security (Bakorkamla), integrating 13 different agencies remains challenging (Agastia, 2017). It would be reasonable to expect maritime security governance reform to be prioritised under Jokowi’s GMF framework. To his credit, Jokowi did reform the Bakorkamla into the Maritime Security Agency (Bakamla) under Presidential Regulation (Peraturan Presiden) no. 178/2014, which legitimised Bakamla’s function as the coordinator for maritime law enforcement policy and as a focal point for the existing 13 maritime security agencies. He even intended the Bakamla to function as Indonesia’s de facto coastguard, presumably to alleviate the operational burden of the Navy and centralise maritime law enforcement. To that end, Jokowi ordered the preparation of a maritime omnibus bill, which would legitimise Bakamla’s position (Sekretariat Kabinet Republik Indonesia, 2020). However, Jokowi has opted to delegate maritime security governance reform and matters related to the maritime omnibus bill to Coordinating Minister for Investment and Maritime Affairs Luhut Pandjaitan (Mariska, 2020). Instead, Jokowi insisted on accelerating the discussion of the omnibus bill on job creation, whereas the maritime omnibus bill would be discussed at the House of Representatives in 2021 (CNN Indonesia, 2020).

A More Maritime Foreign Policy?

Jokowi was rarely involved in promoting Indonesia’s maritime interests abroad and instead, preferred to promote Indonesia’s economic interests, especially foreign investment. This transactional attitude to international politics is best represented in his quip, ‘What’s the point of having many friends but we only get disadvantages?’ (The Economist, 2015). This marks a stark contrast from Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono’s more cordial ‘zero enemies and a million friends’ approach to foreign policy, which relies on continuous engagement with regional and multilateral institutions (Connelly, 2015). Initially, Jokowi was reluctant to participate in international events, citing that he would rather attend to domestic problems (Mietzner, 2015a). However, after attending three summits (APEC, G20 and ASEAN), Jokowi realised foreign summits were useful for promoting Indonesia’s economic and business interests. He would often spend most of international meetings in talks with other world leaders about investment and economic cooperation, which would directly benefit his development agenda (Endah, 2019, pp. 303–304). This transactional approach to international affairs had two implications: (a) it led Jokowi to selectively attend international events where he could pitch Indonesia’s development projects, which further strengthens his perceived lack of interest in seeking partners in maritime governance; and (b) it affected the agenda of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs (MOFA) to lean towards economic diplomacy, thus leaving less diplomatic resources to dedicate towards building the diplomatic foundation of the GMF.

As the primary actor in foreign policy, the MOFA designated maritime diplomacy and security as being priority areas in their work plans, aiming to settle maritime boundary disputes with neighbouring countries while also promoting Indonesia’s maritime interests abroad. A preliminary assessment conducted by the Centre for Strategic and International Studies (CSIS) Indonesia shows that the Indonesian MOFA have strongly internalised Jokowi’s Nawa Cita in their strategic planning and policy implementation, as indicated by the congruence between programmes and interpretation of the Nawa Cita (Fitriani & Panduwinata, 2018). In her 2015 Foreign Minister Annual Press Address, Foreign Minister Retno Marsudi, stated that ‘Indonesia’s diplomacy will accentuate Indonesia’s character as a maritime country and will use Indonesia’s strategic position between the Indian and Pacific Ocean’ (Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Indonesia, 2015). The MOFA works based on a direct interpretation of the Nawa Cita, namely ‘bolstering a maritime identity’, which draws from Jokowi’s mission to ‘establish charisma in foreign affairs and reposition Indonesia in global issues’ (Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Indonesia, 2019, p. 20).

In practice, the MOFA has often prioritised its economic diplomacy agenda. Part of this is due to Jokowi’s insistence on directing the MOFA towards economic diplomacy in a bid to draw foreign investment necessary for his domestic development agenda despite the MOFA diplomats lacking experience as ‘salespeople’ (Tomsa, 2017). The Indian Ocean Rim Association (IORA), where Indonesia served as chair in 2015, was considered crucial for Indonesia’s interests as its membership comprised of four G20 members, along with six dialogue partners (of which were also G20 members). According to Retno Marsudi, Indonesia’s chairpersonship period would serve to benefit Indonesia’s economic diplomacy (Kantor Staf Presiden [Office of Presidential Staff], 2017). However, Indonesia’s chairpersonship in the IORA did not bear significant results for the GMF. As Indonesia focused on pushing an economic cooperation agenda, such as discussions on investment and business, Indonesia did not manage to promote the creation of a regional maritime governance architecture which would be more suited to the ‘global’ aspect of the GMF. In other maritime-themed forums, Indonesia’s participation seemed limited to only offering nominal instead of operational suggestions. In the 2018 Our Ocean Conference hosted by the International Maritime Organisation, Indonesia made numerous commitments in maritime security and marine environment. Indonesia also unveiled a mechanism for tracking its commitments, but it is unclear how tracking commitments contribute to Indonesia’s GMF ambitions (Sambhi, 2019). A large portion of Indonesia’s multilateral engagement was ‘process-oriented’, in the sense that progress was measured not by high-impact outcomes but rather by measuring Indonesian participation—using indicators such as number of recommendations accepted and number of fora in which Indonesia serves as chair—in multilateral fora (Laksmana, 2018). This in itself is curious: Jokowi’s preference for action suggests a more impact-oriented and outcome-driven foreign policy, yet he did not seek to intervene in the MOFA’s method of measuring diplomatic outcomes. This lack of intervention is consistent with Jokowi’s lack of expertise of foreign affairs, preferring instead to delegate these matters to Foreign Minister Retno Marsudi.

During the 13th EAS Summit, Jokowi proclaimed the Indian Ocean and Pacific Ocean as a ‘single geo-strategic theatre’ in which Indonesia would continue to promote an ‘inclusive approach’ to maritime and strategic affairs (Kantor Staf Presiden [Office of Presidential Staff], 2018b). This proclamation, however, was not followed with concrete action. The MOFA keenly pushed its own version of the Indo-Pacific concept, developed by Siswo Pramono, head of the MOFA’s Policy Analysis and Development Agency (Badan Pengkajian dan Pengembangan Kebijakan), which was later adopted by ASEAN as the ‘ASEAN Outlook on the Indo-Pacific’ (AOIP) in 2019. Curiously, it was Vice President Jusuf Kalla who introduced the AOIP at the high-level dialogue on Indo-Pacific cooperation in March 2019 (Septiari, 2019a). While Jokowi openly endorsed the AOIP, in communicating its implications for regional diplomacy, he avoided mention of maritime coalition-building and instead persisted with his narrative of the importance of infrastructure. He then suggested establishing an Indo-Pacific Infrastructure and Connectivity Forum in 2020, which has yet to be realised (Septiari, 2019b).

Jokowi’s handling of the more high-profile maritime security issues, which could serve as an indicator of his ambition of Indonesia being a regional maritime security provider under the GMF, was mixed. Instead of advocating assertive action and taking on a regional leadership role, Jokowi showed that he prioritised domestic interests over regional concerns. In dealing with repeated Chinese incursions into Indonesian waters, Jokowi preferred a more symbolic approach by inaugurating the Natuna naval base and a photo-op aboard the KRI Imam Bonjol-383. On both occasions, Jokowi asserted Indonesia’s territorial sovereignty, but with little mention on how it would be done (Suryadinata, 2016). He also endorsed then-Fisheries Minister Susi Pudjiastuti’s policy of scuttling foreign fishing vessels. Though the policy was popular domestically, it only served to draw ire from Vietnam as their fishing boats made up the majority of those impounded and scuttled, whereas Chinese boats, many of which were larger and better-equipped, often managed to evade arrest (Parameswaran, 2015). Jokowi also avoided showing public support for regional partners and instead opted to stay on the fence. When the Permanent Court of Arbitration issued its ruling on the South China Sea declaring China’s claims to be illegitimate, Indonesia delivered a rather tame response, urging self-restraint instead of publicly supporting the Philippines in their legal victory (Yosephine, 2016). Jokowi’s low-profile response to China suggests a reluctance to draw China’s ire, which could jeopardise a lucrative source of foreign investment (Salim & Negara, 2018, p. 397; Syailendra, 2017).

Conclusion

This study has demonstrated that the implementation of GMF has been less of a maritime-oriented and outward-oriented foreign policy than initially expected. From the view of actor-specific theory, an important intervening variable in this is Jokowi’s political ‘self’, which is a blend of his pragmatic, business-like approach to governance, which results in a tendency to narrowly view political problems as developmental problems. However, this developmentalist view is not necessarily backed with a knack for coherent planning, which often results in Jokowi making spur-of-the-moment decisions.

Due to his early experience as mayor and governor, Jokowi views governance as an issue of service delivery and problem solving. This approach to governance had catapulted him to the presidency, but it did not prepare him for the challenges of foreign policy, especially in advancing Indonesia’s maritime interests under the GMF framework. As a leader, Jokowi has shown that he values action often at the expense of careful planning. This results-oriented and technocratic attitude, however, does not necessarily translate well into foreign and maritime affairs, which requires coherent planning and analysis. Lacking expertise and familiarity in maritime affairs, Jokowi would often delegate important tasks, including the conceptualisation and formulation of maritime strategy and governance to others, while he would be preoccupied with the things he knows best: seeking economic deals and solving domestic problems. This led to a mostly hands-off approach to the GMF, which resulted in underperformance and deviation from the initial maritime-oriented objectives on which the GMF policy was based. Jokowi’s lack of commitment to the GMF was further accentuated in the absence of GMF narrative in his re-election bid. Instead, he doubled down on increasing economic growth, attracting foreign investment through deregulation and accelerating infrastructure development. Jokowi’s shortcomings in implementing the GMF therefore shows that while structural forces may continue to shape domestic conduct, it often falls upon the leaders of the country to decide how they would respond to these forces.