Eugene Mark – Political symbols used in recent protests in Indonesia have underscored a paradox: the more authorities tried to diminish their use, the more power they derived.
A casual observer would have thought that the pirate flag from One Piece unveiled at Indonesia's recent protests in August would be a mere display of fandom over the Japanese manga series. But the pirate flag has emerged as a powerful symbol and a rallying cry against authority. Since August, young people have carried and rallied around the flag as a sign of discontent with President Prabowo's government. Some even flew it alongside the national flag during the lead-up to Indonesia's Independence Day on 17 August. Its appearances have been dispersed across cities, campuses, and online spaces, but it remains more flashes of dissent rather than a coordinated movement. Still, the flag reflects youthful creativity, communicating solidarity and resistance in visible and viral ways.
The One Piece episode has deeper roots. Since February, protests have erupted across major Indonesian cities over economic hardship and opposition to the Prabowo government. The One Piece flag has become a youth favourite, drawing on themes of friendship, resilience, and rebellion against corrupt authorities. Central is Luffy, the captain of the so-called "Straw Hat Pirates". He is the protagonist of the manga series who is optimistic, fearless, and unwilling to bow to power – qualities that resonate with young protesters. Some protesters even modified the flag's eyes to mimic the 80th Independence Day logo – a move criticised online as disrespectful to national symbols. The use of the flag showed how quickly symbols can be adapted for political purposes. Playful yet subversive, the flag captures youth creativity while giving dissent a bold, shareable image.
This phenomenon fits within Asia's wider tradition of resistance symbols. In 2014, Hong Kong's pro-suffrage struggle became known as the "Umbrella Movement", after protestors used them for self-defence. Subsequently, the umbrella symbol came to embody youth resistance. Thailand's 2020-2021 pro-democracy protests brimmed with energy with the use of white ribbons and rubber ducks. None of them, however, was more enduring than the Hunger Games three-finger salute, later adopted by Myanmar's 2021 Spring Revolution. That same period also saw the rise of the Milk Tea Alliance, an online youth network straddling Hong Kong, Taiwan, and Thailand, which employed the colours of iconic drinks in the three territories. Symbols in Indonesia's protests are thus part of a wider tradition of creative, youth-led resistance.
Symbols condense complex grievances into forms that are quickly understood, no matter the background of an individual. They are portable, appearing on banners, social media memes, or at rallies. While symbols can signify both progressive and conservative political alignments, Southeast Asian youths have adopted symbols which reflect solidarity and resistance. When someone raises three fingers, waves an umbrella, or displays Milk Tea Alliance colours, observers immediately know that a cause for democracy and human rights is being represented. Beyond recognition, symbols help sustain cohesion across diverse groups and geographic boundaries.
Ultimately, symbols persist because they condense emotions and identities into recognisable forms. They bridge the emotional and the political, turning anger, hope, and belonging into visible gestures that transcend language and geography.
In Southeast Asia, the authorities often respond to symbolic movements with disproportionate crackdowns. Thai students were detained for using the three-finger salute, and Indonesian officials have warned against flying the One Piece flag. This reaction underscores the perceived threat of symbolic acts. Paradoxically, suppression often strengthens the power of symbols, transforming ordinary gestures into politically charged emblems with heightened emotional significance and rallying potential. Crackdowns reveal a deeper anxiety within regimes: that control over language and meaning is as important as control over streets.
The Indonesian protests show how symbols have travelled and adapted across borders. The Hunger Games salute appeared in Myanmar and the Milk Tea Alliance colours spread online. In a similar fashion, the One Piece pirate flag has become part of a regional playbook of youth resistance. Inspired by its use in Indonesia, the pirate has been unfurled on Nepal's streets and even appeared on university campuses in the Philippines, embraced by young protesters as a symbol of defiance against corruption and political stagnation. International media attention amplifies these acts, turning what might seem like pop culture references into a global story of dissent and solidarity among Asian youth.
Symbols also carry limits and risks. Overuse or state prohibition can blunt their impact, especially when they gain visibility across borders. Yet, history shows that protest culture is adaptable. In Hong Kong, when umbrellas were closely monitored, particularly during Xi Jinping's visit in 2014, activists diversified their symbols, turning to colourful Post-It note "Lennon Walls". In Indonesia, after the One Piece flag stirred criticism, the youth broadened their symbolic repertoire with the colours brave pink, hero green, and resistance blue. These additions may not replace older symbols but expand the repertoire, keeping dissent fresh, creative, and harder to police.
Symbols alone rarely change politics. They only matter when backed by organisation, wider momentum, and coherent framing of issues – and even then, they might not succeed, as evidenced by the crushed youth movements in Hong Kong and Thailand. Still, they keep grievances visible when other channels are shut down. In Indonesia, official warnings against One Piece flags showed they had struck a nerve. Its popularity came not just from defying authority but from its accessibility – anime fandoms and meme culture made it instantly recognisable. Throughout Asia and beyond, conflicts over symbols illustrate a larger struggle for expression, solidarity, and the power to define meaning.
Ultimately, symbols persist because they condense emotions and identities into recognisable forms. They bridge the emotional and the political, turning anger, hope, and belonging into visible gestures that transcend language and geography. Their strength lies in adaptability: once banned, they reappear in new guises, eluding control. From Indonesia to Nepal to the Philippines, a flag, a gesture, or a colour can create networks of solidarity. Together, they remind governments that every attempt to throttle the power of symbols only fuels their resistance.
[Eugene Mark is a Fellow and Co-coordinator of the Thailand Studies Programme at ISEAS – Yusof Ishak Institute.]
Source: https://fulcrum.sg/when-a-one-piece-flag-fuels-multiple-protests