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 “Eurovision is about getting very impassioned about something that does not matter”

Interview with Ciarán Dold from Corner Späti and Gyrovision


14/05/2025

Hi Ciarán, thanks for talking to us. Can you start by just briefly introducing yourself?

I’m a comedian and researcher and probably better known as a podcaster with Corner Späti. We attempt to cover European politics from a left-wing and less serious perspective. We’ve been doing this for about 6 years now.

And now for the fifth time, you’ll be doing Gyrovision. Let’s start with the question I keep hearing, and will not work in a printed interview. How do you pronounce Gyrovision?

That is debated. One of Corner Späti’s co-hosts is Greek, and he gives out to me about pronouncing gyrovision with that hard English “G.” He’s informed me that it is actually pronounced “Eurovision.”

But I like calling it “geero-vision.” So, the official pronunciation of Gyrovision is with a hard G.

And what is Gyrovision?

When we started Corner Späti, we had a focus on Europe. And I’ve always felt that the unifying aspect of “European culture”––with heavy quotation marks––is actually Eurovision.

A lot of people on the right will say that it’s Philosophy and Christendom and Architecture and all that very dodgy stuff, when, in reality, I still think it’s Eurodance, and Cascada, and teenage binge drinking in front of your local rinky dink funfair. And Eurovision, I think, represents that quite well. I wanted to show my co-hosts Eurovision through my eyes.

We had to wait a year, because when we started the podcast in 2019, and BDS had called a boycott because Israel was hosting. And as much as I love Eurovision, it’s not more important than solidarity with the Palestinian people. The following year was the pandemic year, and we had to cancel last-minute.

Finally, in 2021, we started doing our own commentary on the Eurovision. That’s how Gyrovision started. We always made this joke that Gyro was the substitute word for a cheap knockoff version. I think the joke started originally as GyroDisney instead of EuroDisney, but then expanded to this.

Then last year, we did a boycott-friendly version. We try to make something as close to Eurovision as possible, without giving the European Broadcasting Union (EBU) any money or attention.

Before we talk about the boycott, there is a difference between Gyrovision and other comedic coverage of Eurovision in that you actually enjoy this shit. What is it about Eurovision that you like?

Part of it is definitely that I am Irish, and we have a, er, relationship with Eurovision. Ireland is currently, although probably not for long, joint first place with Sweden in most of the Eurovision wins of.

I have very nostalgic childhood memories of people in my street getting together to watch Eurovision. In Ireland, it would always be the first sunny day of the year. People would have barbecues in the garden, and then you’d go inside to watch the telly and see this contest happening.

People usually say it’s rubbish, but end up watching it regardless. It’s one of the most-watched live events in the world, more watched than the Super Bowl. Yet no one likes talking about it, which I find fascinating.

It scratches all the itches of music, pageantry, geography, and a fair amount of politics, even though they try to deny that’s there.

And yet most of the coverage talks less about the songs and more about who votes for whom and who doesn’t vote for whom.

People will say: “oh, Greece and Cyprus always vote for each other, it must be corruption.” And yeah, corruption has happened, especially with Azerbaijan, but it’s more because there’s a lot of Cypriots in Greece, and there’s a lot of Greek people in Cyprus who watch it at home.

You can also explain that with the UK and Ireland. The UK often gives points to Ireland, but Ireland doesn’t give points to the UK. People say “that must be the history,” but it’s more that there’s probably just more Irish people in the UK than there are British people in Ireland.

For a lot of countries, it’s very high stakes. This is the only international representation they have. A lot of countries like, famously Moldova, are not successful at sports. They take Eurovision very, very seriously, because it’s the only time Moldova is really represented on an international stage.

This means that they often have an outsized performance at the competition. I would describe Moldova’s characteristic at Eurovision as being drunk at the opening scene of a Wes Anderson movie. That’s the vibe their music usually gives. And it’s a lot of fun.

Every year, there’s always been some low level calls to boycott Eurovision because it features Israel. And these calls have been largely irrelevant. Last year, it was different. How did Gyrovision deal with the genocide?

A lot of these calls fall on deaf ears, because Eurovision has a very intense casual viewership. People usually just watch. Most people who watch Eurovision are watching it because there’s nothing else on telly that night.

There are super fans, but most people are very casually engaged, including the people who call for boycotts, who usually call for a boycott way too late. I usually see calls for kicking Israel out in March or April. But Eurovision 2025 was set in stone in September 2024. It’s a very slow moving and bureaucratic process.

The usual rule for BDS is they’ll only call for a boycott when Israel hosts Eurovision. As far as I understand, there isn’t an official boycott this year, probably because BDS is asking a lot of people right now or they think they are.

Last year, I knew a boycott was coming for obvious reasons. We listened to people saying what they wanted to do, and we said, “Fuck it. We can do this without the EBU getting any money”. We were able to get the songs in a way where EBU doesn’t get any money and we did the Eurovision ourselves. People voted. Obviously, we don’t include Israel and Azerbaijan for their various war crimes.

What are your criteria for who you don’t include? You exclude Israel and Azerbaijan. But you let people vote for Britain who are responsible for their fair share of war crimes. 

Israel and Azerbaijan have used Eurovision for soft power reasons. Last year, the Israeli president intervened to make sure that Israel went to the competition. They take this stuff very seriously.

I think people recognize that for all the crimes the various other countries commit, I don’t think they would care all that much if they weren’t in Eurovision anymore, but Israel really seems to care.

This is probably the only thing where Israel is really relevant on the international stage. It’s the only thing where they’re represented as a country. They’re not big World Cup players. I never hear anyone talk about Israel in the Olympics, because it’s usually just America and China getting all the medals.

Irish-South African professor Patrick Bond makes pretty much the same argument, saying that the sports boycott was really important for South Africa, but if you want to hit Israel you’ve got to hit Eurovision.

Yeah. And unfortunately, I see that cynically deployed by Eurovision super fans who feel a little bit guilty, but they still want to watch the Eurovision. They say that no-one’s calling for a FIFA boycott of Israeli clubs.

But this is not relevant. You have to direct your energy somewhere. And unfortunately, Eurovision is the place. All this can also be said for Azerbaijan. Azerbaijan is also not very relevant in various sports, but they are relevant in Eurovision.

Plus there is a call for a FIFA boycott, even if it won’t hit Israel as much. Coming back to the way in which Israel tries to weaponize Eurovision: can you say something about last year’s and this year’s Israeli entries?

Last year’s entry was Eden Golan. It was less about the artist and more about the song itself. The song was originally titled October Rain, and as soon as that title was leaked, everyone on Eurovision fan media was saying: “Oh, fuck no. We know exactly what this is”.

I believe that they were initially trying to provoke the European Broadcasting Union into kicking them out, like they had done with Belarus. Then, when it looked like Iceland was about to send a Palestinian musician, Israeli President Herzog went to the national broadcaster Kan and said, “Change the lyrics.” That’s how we got the song Hurricane. When it was performed, it was booed live at the arena.

Now, I boycotted last year. That was a very easy decision for me. I’ve had these politics around Israeli Apartheid for a very long time. But I also heard a lot of reports of people going to Eurovision 2024, saying: “Music is music. Let’s leave politics out of it”, then leaving the competition saying: “Oh God, fuck Israel.”

So it served as a weird, radicalizing event for a lot of people. There was also a lot of shenanigans backstage, which goes into a whole other set of drama.

This year there’s Yuval Raphael. She was at the Nova music festival on October 7th 2023. She is considered a survivor. Her song is called A New Day Will Dawn. And they’re very much trying this year to once more redirect the conversation onto Israeli victims of this conflict at the expense of Palestinian victims, of whom there are many more

That’s how the song is being instrumentalized this year. Both are trying to elicit sympathy from a European audience, which, from what I’ve seen, is failing. But unfortunately, institutions are just putting up with Israel’s presence in this competition.

But there is more of a vocal call for boycott, for example from over 150 former Eurovision contestants including an Irish winner. Do you get a sense that something is changing?

Unfortunately, I don’t think anything has changed. Last year, the comparison that was often made was that Russia was kicked out after their invasion of Ukraine. But the EBU only banned Russia after ten national broadcasters in Eastern Europe, Central Europe, and I believe the Netherlands, threatened to pull out of the competition unless Russia was kicked out. It got a lot of institutional support.

Kicking Israel out has had a lot of support from fans, casual viewers, musicians, and people who are just staff at these events. Also songwriters, but who remembers the songwriters? Unfortunately, there’s still not enough institutional support.

If anything is changing, the unsung hero leading the charge is actually the Slovenian national broadcaster. They’re being the most vocal about this, and dragging in other countries like Spain, Norway, and Ireland.

The Slovenian national broadcaster started asking: “Why is Israel here? Can we talk about that? It doesn’t feel right.” The national broadcaster in Israel has broken a lot of EBU rules, and for this reason alone, they should be kicked out, regardless of any moral conversation about Palestine. They have been given a green light on a bunch of other rules that they’ve broken, such as independence from government propaganda, or promoting military things.

Do you have any tips for Eurovision? I know you’re very fond of the Australian entry.

This year I’m enjoying how horny the Australian entry is. I love how explicit you have to be when you do innuendo in a Eurovision Song. You understand that most of the audience don’t speak English as a first language, so you are very direct.

In Eurovision, these are 20 something songs that you will never listen to in your spare time. They do not reflect your actual music taste, but you are going to pick your favorite song from the bunch, and then you are going to start yelling at everyone who disagrees with you. It’s about getting very impassioned about something that does not matter and shouldn’t matter and should just be a bit of silly television.

How can people listen to songs and still observe the boycott?

There are two ways to do this. One, unfortunately, is Spotify. You can listen to all the songs in Eurovision this year but the money goes to the artists’ record label. And when we say money, we mean a fraction of a cent. We know how Spotify works. But that money does not go to the EBU.

The second way would be to use an online platform called Invidious, which is a no-tracking mirror of YouTube. None of the advertising revenue is counted by YouTube, because it hasn’t tracked you.

Let’s move on to Gyrovision. What will happen at Gyrovision and why should people go?

I and other hosts of Corner Späti will be doing commentary over the songs. We make our own opening ceremony. We make our own postcards, which is Eurovision terminology for the little bit that happens before the song plays showcasing the country.

We do all this to show you Europe through our somewhat sardonic lens. We do the usual stuff like dressing up, drinking, and dancing, all in the name of donating money to the Palestinian charities Heal Palestine and The Ghassan Abu Sittah Children’s Fund.

It’s for people who don’t take Eurovision very seriously. As much as I am a fan, I learn about it so that I can just kind of joke along with it in a knowing manner. It should be a lot of fun.

And this year, Gyrovision isn’t on the day of Eurovision, it’s the day after. 

Yes, this year it is on the Sunday, because since we’re boycotting it doesn’t actually matter when we host it. It’s from 6pm till 10pm at Lark Berlin. Because it’s on Sunday, we are ending a little earlier.

You can come along and vote for your own songs, just like a real Eurovision, and we’ve got someone who’s made a little app for us to tally the votes.

Because it’s on the Sunday, people can also come to Palivision on Saturday, and we’re not competing like last year.

Absolutely, the feud that happened last year, we were just circling each other, staring daggers.

Is there anything else you want to say that we haven’t said,

Just that I am a fan of the Eurovision Song Contest, and I represent the type of person who could watch Eurovision again if the European Broadcasting Union actually kicked out Israel. I am the market they are missing out on.

I hear a lot of people talk about Eurovision from a perspective of “I never watched anyway”. I don’t think that’s the kind of voices that the EBU needs to hear. They need to hear from more people like me who say: I would watch, but you fucked up, so fix it.

Let’s organize. Let’s resist.

The Left Berlin Speech at the Demo Against German Militarism (10th May 2025)


13/05/2025

Dear Comrades, Berliners of every background and fellow resisters —

We gather today in Berlin — not just any city, but a city built on the ruins of war.

From the devastation of World War II to the walls that divided its people, Berlin is a living memory of what militarism does.

And yet — here we are again.

Rheinmetall, Germany’s largest weapons manufacturer, has announced plans to convert its plant in Humboldthain — right here in the Wedding neighborhood — into a military production site.

What used to make car parts will now produce components for tanks and armored vehicles — tools of war, machines of death.

Let’s be clear: this is not just one factory.

This is part of the largest rearmament campaign in Germany since the Second World War.

More than €100 billion will be funneled into the military by 2028.

And it’s happening fast — in budgets, in public discourse, in laws, in political decisions and in the propaganda of the media.

And we must remember what German militarism has meant in history.

It meant colonial massacres in Namibia and Tanzania.

It meant two World Wars, genocide, and entire cities turned to ash.

It meant tanks rolling into Poland, Yugoslavia, Russia, North Africa — death in the name of empire and order.

And currently it means fuelling and supporting Israel’s genocide in Gaza.

With German military equipment!

With our tax money!

We have learned this lesson once. We will not let it be forgotten.

Right now, the media and political class are busy selling us a new fear:

“Russia might invade Germany.”

“We must be ready for war.”

Let’s be clear: This is pure propaganda and warmongering. 

There is no scenario in which Russia — exhausted by its war in Ukraine, economically isolated, diplomatically weak — invades Germany, a central NATO state surrounded by U.S. military bases, nuclear weapons, and the most powerful alliance in the world.

But this fantasy of invasion is useful.

It justifies skyrocketing military budgets.

It justifies arms exports.

It justifies expanding the North Atlantic Treaty Organization’s (NATO) reach from Eastern Europe to the Indo-Pacific.

It keeps the weapons factories full, and the public scared.

This isn’t about defending democracy.

This is about defending Western imperial dominance — U.S. power, NATO control, and profits for arms manufacturers like Rheinmetall and Lockheed Martin.

And who pays the price?

Not the politicians.

Not their children.

It is all of us!

It is our youth who will be sent to die in wars they didn’t start and never chose.

It is the working class, the migrants, the poor, the racialized — who are always told to fight while elites get rich.

It is the population of Ukraine and Poland, always caught in between the imperial power game.

We will not let our populations be used as pawns in their wars and geopolitical aims.

Our responsibility as people of any citizenship status in Berlin is NOT to blindly obey political decisions such as the current militarization just to “integrate” to German society or avoid “standing out”.

Our responsibility is to stay informed, think critically, take action against the processes that lead to war and destruction. And to remind Germany of its criminal military past.

We say no to NATO. No to brainwashing. No to war. No to militarization.

Today, Rheinmetall profits while people fleeing war — from Afghanistan, from Sudan, from Palestine, from Syria — are met with walls, prisons, and silence.

Refugees are criminalized. Deportations intensify.

But it doesn’t have to be this way.

With that money, we could:

Build a Berlin of welcome — and we mean for all, not just for white Europeans.

But that future will not be handed to us.

It must be fought for.

Because militarization is not waiting.

It is moving quickly — into schools, into law, into policy, into culture.

And the longer we stay silent, the louder the war drums get.

So we must act. And we must act now.

We — the people of this city —

Germans and internationals.

Workers, renters, students, refugees.

We have a responsibility in this historic moment.

To stand up.

To speak out.

To organize from the ground up — in our neighborhoods, our classrooms, our cafés, our mosques, churches, synagogues, our unions and workplaces.

We must expose Rheinmetall.

Pressure the politicians.

Interrupt the war economy with people power.

And make one thing clear:

Berlin will not build war machinery.

Berlin will not fund genocide.

Not in our name.

Not in Wedding.

Not in Berlin.

Berlin is not a weapons hub.

Berlin is a city of memory and solidarity. This is our city! And we will not be silent!

Let’s organize. Let’s resist.

Thank you. Danke. Shukran. Teşekkür ederim. Gracias.

Solidarity forever.

On Gaza and Our Allegiance to the Human Family

A Palestinian poet on the importance of centering humanity during a genocide


12/05/2025

There are moments in history when silence becomes not only a failure, but a form of violence. We are living in one of those moments now.

For more than a year and a half, we have watched a people systematically dispossessed, starved, bombed, and buried beneath rubble. And much of the world watches in cold complicity—or worse, justifies it.

As a poet of Palestinian descent, I do not speak as a partisan. I speak as a human being, and as someone who believes, stubbornly, that truth matters and words carry weight. Bearing witness remains a moral act, especially when facts themselves are under assault.

What is happening in Gaza is not a mystery. It is not complicated. It is horror playing out in plain sight. Tens of thousands of children have been murdered. Hospitals shelled. Aid convoys turned away. Every safeguard of international law has been shredded. What name shall we give to this, if not genocide? In one of my recent poems, I put it this way:

‘‘If you’re uncomfortable saying Genocide, say mass murder… say boneyard… say unmarked graves…say pity the children… say humanity under the rubble…say Lord, forgive us the enormity of our sins.’’

In another poem from my book, Palestine Wail, I say that even “a quiet moan or sighing is preferable to false words or worse: a loud and wounding silence.”

And yet, in the face of these crimes, too many equivocate—pleading for “balance” as if this were a mere dispute. But neutrality in the face of brutality is betrayal. It flatters the aggressor and abandons the victim.

We must be clear: to condemn Israel’s actions is not to deny the suffering or humanity of Jews. On the contrary, it is to insist that no people’s trauma can ever justify the trauma of another. To grieve for Palestine is not hatred. It is conscience.

The poet Mohammed El-Kurd writes of the impossible expectations Palestinians face; that they be graceful in their dispossession, polite in their pain, saintly in their resistance. In Perfect Victims, he exposes the cruelty beneath these demands—and the dehumanization they conceal. I echo him here: the oppressed should not have to earn their dignity. It is theirs by birthright.

In my own Wail, I did not write to explain Palestinian suffering to the West. I wrote to honor its sacred witness. Art, I believe, can still humanize what has been rendered faceless. It can say, I see you. You are not forgotten.

Poetry, at its finest, is a flame. It burns through euphemism. It refuses polite erasure. It speaks the realities others dare not name.

Israel’s assault on Gaza is not self-defense. It is a campaign of erasure. And the United States, through its unflinching support, is deeply complicit. Billions in military aid. No red lines. No accountability.

And so I write. Because I must. Because silence would betray my heritage, my humanity, and whatever remains of my faith in words.

The time for hedging is over. Let us mourn without apology. Let us reject the false terms of debate. Let us ask the only question that matters now: what does it mean to be human in a time like this?

Enough is too much. Palestinians do not need our pity. They need our solidarity—desperately, and now.

Reform UK and the cost of looking away

Keir Starmer has paved the way to the success of Reform UK’s insidious racism


11/05/2025

Nigel Farage just had the weekend he’s spent his life rehearsing for. Not in the shadows, not on the margins, not even in the smoking area of a middle England pub, five pints deep, fawning over Trump. But centre stage, in a political reckoning too many pretended would never quite arrive.

Reform UK, the far-right party led by Farage, is no longer a flag-waving nuisance on the sidelines of British politics. After slipping into Parliament last year, it has now won two mayoralties and seized control of ten councils across the UK, including, with a particular twist of symbolism, Durham, a place deeply embedded in the mythology of Labour’s past.

Durham was the first county council ever run by Labour, and the birthplace of the miners’ gala, a historic celebration of workers’ solidarity. Labour lost control there in 2021, but it wasn’t the Conservatives who tightened their grip this week. It was Reform—Farage’s xenophobic, division-spreading, spite engine—seizing the cradle of working-class political consciousness. He has since declared his party the “main opposition,” and disturbingly, the claim carries a certain coherence. Reform is not yet a party of government, but it has become the party of resentment, of rupture, of consequence.

But what does Reform stand for? Beneath the talk of DOGE-esque efficiency, free speech, and a “war on woke” (ooops), lies something more familiar: the steady churn of blame. Migrants. Outsiders. Anyone deemed not quite British or “normal” enough. It is a party fluent in both the language and the logic of nationalism. And in places where people feel that everything has already been taken, that language begins to sound like a plan.

It is tempting to cast this as a shock, to speak of a sudden lurch, a rogue current, but there’s nothing sudden about it. The conditions were laid carefully over decades: industries shuttered, communities dismantled, services stripped to the bone. The promise of something better replaced by the reality of nothing at all, and then anger. Reform didn’t invent that anger. They simply arrived at the right time, to cash in on an outstanding political debt accrued slowly, painfully, and without apology since the 1980s.

You can see the consequences not only in the councils that flipped, but in the towns and cities that came dangerously close. Places where loyalty has worn thin, and trust has quietly left the room. Doncaster, where I grew up, came within 700 votes of tipping over. A result close enough to shake those still in power into breaking ranks.

A clear rebuke to Keir Starmer—delivered not in private but in her own re-election speech—the sitting Labour mayor of Doncaster, Ros Jones, criticised Labour’s recent scrapping of winter fuel payments for pensioners, the rise in employers’ national insurance contributions, and the tightening of disability support. She knows that in Doncaster, these aren’t abstract policy tweaks. They land sharply, and shape how people live, or whether they can live at all. 

Like Durham, and countless other towns and cities now leaning towards Reform, Doncaster’s story is one of abandonment. These places once thrived on industry—coal, steel, railways—not simply as sources of income, but as cornerstones of identity. Work shaped community, and community shaped purpose. Then neoliberalism arrived, dressed in the language of modernisation and inevitability. In the 80’s, the mines were closed, public assets sold, unions dismantled. Investment, talent, and belief drained away. And what replaced it?

From my experience of growing up in Doncaster in the 90’s, it was replaced by a slow, visible unravelling: boarded-up high streets, rising violence, widespread addiction, prostitution, and a pervasive malaise that crept in like mould. You could feel it in the quiet of a once-bustling market, in the dusty stillness of empty shop fronts and in the way ambition was slowly sucked out.There was no single collapse or headline moment. Just the cumulative effect of being overlooked, year after year. Decade after decade. Politics rarely arrived except to promise, and those promises rarely came with delivery dates. Eventually, though, what did arrive was a sense that no one was coming. And in that absence, people looked elsewhere or gave up on politics altogether.

For some, turning to Reform is less about belief than about absence. It’s a response to the growing sense that Labour and the Conservatives no longer speak to them, or for them.

And this isn’t just about jobs and services. It’s about dignity. It’s about who is spoken for, and who is sacrificed. Labour’s ambivalence on Palestine, its retreat on trans rights, these too are part of the silence and part of why some chose to stay home. What we’re witnessing now isn’t chaos. It’s the cost of looking away.

Activists warn of the growing militarisation of the Indonesian government under General Prawobo

Interview with Activist M. on the growing military influences on civil life threatening Indonesia’s dearly earned peace. 

After the Second World War and the political chaos it brought forth, the countries of the global South fought for independence from the genocidal imperialist powers. A process of decolonisation began, which albeit temporarily, restored hope and dignity to billions of people. Country after country expelled its colonisers and recovered its resources and territories after centuries of exploitation.

Decolonisation, land redistribution and access to education for the liberated peoples was the ideal breeding ground for the spread of socialist and communist ideologies in many countries: from Vietnam to Indonesia, from Egypt to Congo, from Cuba to Guatemala.

Indonesia, under the leadership of Sukarno, declared its independence from the Netherlands in August 1945. After four years of struggle and uncertainty, the Dutch finally transferred sovereignty of the country to President Sukarno, a revolutionary, nationalist and deeply anti-imperialist politician.

During his years in power (1949-1967), Sukarno progressively shifted to the left, collaborating with the government and providing support and protection to the Indonesian Communist Party (PKI), at the time, the largest communist party outside the communist countries.

Sukarno was a skilled diplomat who, together with Gamal Abdel Nasser, president of Egypt, and Jawaharlal Nehru, prime minister of India, managed to bring together most of the countries undergoing decolonisation in Asia and Africa, as well as some in South America, in Indonesia at the legendary Bandung Conference in April 1955.

In the city of Bandung, Java, these countries proclaimed themselves to be the third world, that is, countries independent of the opposing axes: Yankee capitalism and Soviet communism. In what became known as the Spirit of Bandung, a new idea of global order was conceived, distancing itself from the colonial first world and the continuation of imperialism with soviet overtones by the second world. 

At this Afro-Asian conference, 10 fundamental principles were agreed upon as the basis for international relations, including respect for human rights and anti-racism, the right to self-determination of peoples, and the right to armed struggle in defence of that right.

Unlike the countries of the first world, whose idea of nationhood is based on race or language, the countries of the third world based their nationalism on anti-colonial struggle and social justice. These countries, which are largely multicultural with thousands of indigenous languages spoken by the nearly 1.5 billion people represented at this conference, believed in a new international organisation and diplomacy beyond the colonisation they had suffered, where collective collaboration and coordination would stand up to the global economic order established by the rich countries. Sukarno himself linked the anti-imperialist struggle with anti-capitalism in his speeches.

Needless to say, most of the 29 participating countries paid dearly for their struggle for independence in the years and decades that followed, with wars, dictatorships and economic sanctions.

Sukarno’s anti-imperialist and redistributive policies irritated internal forces – the military and the radical Islamist factions within Indonesia, but also external ones, mainly the US. After the Second World War, the US was strengthening its areas of influence against the USSR, and its newly created CIA was beginning to perfect the tactics of internal and external sabotage that it would later apply savagely and with impunity, across the world.

Under US interference, Sukarno’s government was overthrown in 1967 in a brutal coup led by General Suharto. Literal rivers of blood flowed throughout the archipelago for two years. And so began a dictatorship that, just as the US wanted, eradicated communism and socialism from the country, killing between half a million and one and a half million communists and their families, in what experts describe as political genocide. It also eliminated or expelled the middle classes and intellectuals who were not sympathetic to the new pro-Yankee regime.

The country returned to large estates and semi-slave labour conditions, selling recently nationalised natural resources to the highest bidder, and Indonesia came to owe billions of dollars in debt to the IMF. Corruption, especially in higher ranks, like Suharto and his family, was the norm and the most cruel members of the military rose to the highest spheres of power.

One of them was General Prabowo Subianto, son-in-law of the dictator Suharto and known as the butcher of Timor for his fondness for torturing the peoples of East Timor and West Papua and one of those responsible for their genocide.

Suharto’s brutal dictatorship ended with his resignation in 1998. His vice president, B. Jusuf Habibie, held power until the first presidential elections in June 1999, in which Abdurrahman Wahid was elected president. In July 2001, he was forced to resign, and his vice president, Megawati Soekarnoputri, daughter of the first president Sukarno, became president of Indonesia.

In the election that followed, in  April 2004, Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono was elected president, a position he held until October 2014, when Joko Widodo was elected. A politician from a very humble background, he focused his presidency on the fight against social inequality and, in theory, against corruption.

The presidency of Joko Widodo (2014-2024), known as Jokowi, who has more socialist tendencies, was characterised by a strong focus on economic development and improving social welfare. From the outset, Jokowi promoted major infrastructure projects such as roads, bridges and airports, especially in remote areas, with the aim of reducing regional inequality and promoting connectivity. He promoted industrialisation and the transformation of Indonesia into a more productive and self-sufficient country, reducing dependence on raw material imports and the exploitation of cheap labour by multinationals.

In the social sphere, Jokowi strengthened assistance programmes such as universal health insurance (JKN), benefiting millions of Indonesians. He also implemented energy subsidy reforms, freeing up resources for education, health and infrastructure.

In the later years, Jokowi committed to the transition to renewable energy and the construction of a new capital, Nusantara, in Borneo, as a symbol of modernisation and decentralisation.

Despite these advances, his administration faced criticism for limited progress on human rights and freedom of expression, as well as religious and ethnic tensions and a clear lack of effective action against corruption.

In 2019, after winning his second election, Jokowi’s decision to appoint his rival in the last two elections, war criminal General Prawobo, as defence minister caused unrest among his supporters, who took to the streets in protest. His years as a minister undoubtedly helped to clean up his image as a democratic statesman.

In the 2024 presidential elections, in which Jokowi did not contest after having served two terms, the former defence minister, the butcher of East Timor, Prawobo, was elected president. The elections were clearly influenced by social media, especially TikTok, where the bloody general was portrayed as a good-natured, affable man who had come to change the corrupt system.

Since taking power, this general has carried out various reforms that are bringing this young democracy back to the brink of a military dictatorship. A series of legal reforms were the trigger for a new wave of protests in March 2025, a month that saw riots in the streets of hundreds of Indonesian cities. These protests were brutally attacked both by the police and the military, leading to dozens of injured people and the detention of hundreds of activists.

To explain the current situation, we interviewed a feminist anarchist activist who, for security reasons, spoke to us anonymously.

Interview: Indonesia’s Shift Under Prabowo – A Conversation with M.

Jokowi’s government certainly wasn’t perfect, but there were at least some efforts—however limited—towards fighting corruption, protecting the environment, and promoting social equality. Since Prabowo took power in 2024, what have been the biggest changes?

Since Prabowo Subianto assumed office as Indonesia’s president in October 2024, several significant policy shifts and political changes have emerged, contrasting with Jokowi’s administration in key areas such as governance, corruption eradication, social equality, and environmental protection.

Some of the biggest changes we have observed so far are in the areas of corruption, social welfare and inequality, environmental policies, democracy and human rights, international relationships and economic policies.

Let’s start with corruption—what’s changed there?

The Corruption Eradication Commission, or KPK, has been notably weakened. Even under Jokowi, the KPK was struggling—remember the controversial revisions to the KPK Law back in 2019—but it still managed to act on some high-profile cases.

Now, under Prabowo, there are growing concerns that the KPK is being politicized. There’s a real fear that it’s being used selectively—going after opposition figures while protecting allies. And the drop in high-profile prosecutions recently only adds to the concern. It raises serious questions about the administration’s actual commitment to anti-graft efforts.

What about social inequality and welfare? Has there been any progress?

Prabowo has actually expanded some of Jokowi’s social aid programs—like Bansos, the direct cash assistance—and it’s pretty clear that’s aimed at shoring up support among lower-income voters.

However, critics argue these programs are more politically motivated than structural reforms addressing inequality (e.g., land reform, labour rights). Minimum wage policies have seen little progressive change, with labour unions expressing dissatisfaction.

And environmental policy—where does Prabowo stand?

Jokowi’s administration had a mixed record, for e.g., there was the palm oil moratorium, but also support for nickel mining and deforestation. Prabowo seems to be rolling back protective measures even further– his government is increasing the number of permits for mining and agribusiness in sensitive areas. Also there is slower progress regarding renewable energy transition, compared to Jokowi’s push for solar and hydro-power. With respect to our climate commitments, the Prawobo government’s stance on carbon emissions and peatland protection has softened.

There’s been a lot of talk about democratic backsliding under Prabowo. What are you seeing?

We are seeing increasing authoritarian tendencies. There’s a harsher crackdown on protests, with reports of aggressive police action against demonstrators. There are concerns over pressure on critical journalists, reminiscent of Prabowo’s past ties to military repression and civil society groups—especially those focused on human rights or the environment—are facing new bureaucratic hurdles for advocacy work.

And how has Indonesia’s foreign policy changed since Prabowo took office?

Jokowi generally took a neutral, pragmatic approach—remaining neutral to both the U.S. and China, and focusing on economic diplomacy. Prabowo, by contrast, is much more nationalist and assertive.

We’re seeing stronger military posturing, a sharp rise in defense spending, and tougher rhetoric around maritime disputes. At the same time, he’s leaning more heavily on Chinese infrastructure investment, which raises red flags about debt dependency. Relations with Western democracies have cooled, especially on issues like human rights and environmental accountability.

What’s the approach on economic policy under Prabowo?

There’s still continuity in some areas—especially with Jokowi’s push for resource nationalism, like downstreaming nickel and bauxite. But Prabowo is relying more on state-owned enterprises and state intervention.

Unfortunately, bureaucratic reform isn’t a priority anymore. That means inefficiency and corruption in state-led projects are real risks. The concern is that we’ll see bigger spending with less oversight.

There is a continued focus on downstreaming, for e.g., nickel, bauxite processing, following Jokowi’s resource nationalism. But there are more state-led economic interventions, with state-owned enterprises (SOEs) playing a larger role, as well as reduced emphasis on bureaucratic reform, leading to concerns about inefficiency and corruption in state projects.

In summary, while Jokowi’s governance had flaws, his administration made some, albeit inconsistent progress in anti-corruption, social welfare, and environmental policy. Under Prabowo, corruption enforcement has weakened, environmental protections are declining, and democratic freedoms are shrinking, while populist welfare programs and nationalist economic policies dominate.

What’s the state of the opposition in parliament? Are they pushing back?

Since Prabowo Subianto took office, Indonesia’s opposition—primarily the PDI-P (Megawati’s party) and smaller factions like the Democratic Party (PD) and PKS—has been remarkably passive, often supporting the government’s controversial policies rather than mounting strong resistance. To put the complacency of the opposition in perspective – the House of Representatives is headed by Puan Maharani, the chairperson of the PDI-P, and the daughter of Megawati. There is also only fragmented resistance from civil society, with no major parliamentary pushback.

The controversy surrounding the revised Indonesian National Armed Forces (TNI) Law stems from its expansion of military influence into civilian governance. Critics argue that this move echoes the Dwi Fungsi (Dual Function) of the military during the Suharto era, which allowed the armed forces to dominate both security and civilian administration. The law permits active-duty officers to hold posts in civilian institutions, raising concerns about accountability and the erosion of democratic principles.

Protests have erupted across Indonesia, with activists fearing a return to militaristic rule and repression of civil liberties. The law’s hasty and non-transparent legislative process has also drawn criticism, with limited public participation fueling distrust. Many people warn that this could lead to abuses of power and impunity, which seems to be taking place now.

The revision of Indonesia’s TNI Law has sparked significant controversy, with critics warning it could reverse democratic reforms and re-militarize civilian life.

Speaking of the TNI Law revisions—what’s so controversial about them?

This law, termed Military Operations Other than War (OMSP), expands military role in civilian affairs, allowing TNI to engage in domestic security, disaster management, infrastructure projects, and even social programs—blurring the line between military and civilian governance. This revives the Suharto-era Dwi Fungsi (Dual Function) doctrine, where the military held political and economic power.

It weakens civilian oversight. The law removes requirements for parliamentary approval before deploying troops domestically. This has resulted in concerns that the president (Prabowo, a former general) could use TNI as a political tool, for instance, to suppress protests or opposition.

It is also a potential return to military business activities. The revised law opens loopholes for TNI to generate income through “partnerships” with private companies. This could revive the corrupt military-business complex of the New Order era (e.g., illegal logging, protection rackets).

The law also offers legal immunity for soldiers. Soldiers accused of crimes during operations may avoid civilian court trials, instead facing internal military tribunals. This raises fears of impunity for human rights violations (e.g., Papua conflict, past crackdowns on activists).

And how are people reacting?

People consider it a threat to democracy. The law erodes 25 years of post-Suharto reforms that had reduced military power in politics and Prabowo’s history as a hardline general (linked to 1998 kidnappings, Papua operations) underlies public distrust.

We are worried about repression. Activists fear the TNI could be used to crush protests (like in 2019 anti-government demonstrations), and silence dissent in regions like Papua and West Papua.

There are high corruption risks. Military involvement in business and infrastructure projects could lead to budget leaks (e.g., inflated contracts for allies), land grabbing (as seen in past TNI-backed projects), and so on. 

That is why individuals, students, activists, human rights groups, public figures, academics, workers, legal experts, etc. are protesting, both in the streets and social media.

We all fear this is a return to the past. The government claims the law will help TNI to “modernize” and assist in development (e.g., building roads, schools). They also claim this law will ensure “national stability” against threats like separatism or cyber attacks. But this law marks a dangerous step toward re-militarizing Indonesian politics—a shift that benefits Prabowo’s grip on power and risks the repetition of the Suharto era abuses.

The opposition’s failure to block the TNI Law revisions symbolizes its broader submission to Prabowo’s agenda. Instead of acting as a check on power, most parties are avoiding confrontation, seeking future coalition deals, and are focused on survival rather than principled opposition.

As a result, Prabowo faces no strong parliamentary resistance, allowing him to consolidate power with minimal pushback.

Is there a strong opposition on the streets and who is leading it?

The strongest opposition clearly comes from civil society, comprising of people from diverse backgrounds. There is no single leader of this movement, as the public is united by a shared major concern and a common adversary. Each individual or group takes their own initiative, resisting in various ways and through different mediums. Although the efforts are carried out sporadically, the movement remains interconnected through a decentralized network.

What can people outside of Indonesia do to help?

The legalization of the revised UU TNI is not just an Indonesian problem—it is a global crisis. Indonesia plays a critical role in the fight for democracy and human rights in Southeast Asia and beyond.  Therefore, the rise of militarism and neo-fascism in Indonesia threatens regional stability and sets a dangerous precedent for authoritarian regimes worldwide.

The people of Indonesia have fought too hard and sacrificed too much for democracy to allow their country to slide back into the militarism, corruption, and authoritarianism of the Suharto era. We cannot remain silent as neo-fascism rises in Indonesia. Together, we must resist, fight back, and stand in solidarity with the people of Indonesia.

We call on the international community to:

  • Condemn Indonesia’s Authoritarian Turn: Publicly denounce the revised UU TNI and its threat to democracy and human rights.
  • Stand with Indonesian Civil Society: Support the brave activists, students, and organizations resisting militarization and fighting for democracy.
  • Impose Consequences: Use diplomatic, economic, and political tools to pressure the Indonesian government to repeal this law and uphold democratic principles.
  • Monitor and Expose Abuses: Document and expose any human rights violations or anti-democratic actions resulting from the implementation of this law.
  • Head over to the Indonesian embassy in your country and give them a heads-up, in whatever way you want!

In rage & solidarity,

M.

All Photos: @bara.api