Hangga Fathana – Indonesia's low-key rejection of reported Russian interest in military basing in Papua says more than it appears to. While Jakarta's response was measured, it was deliberate – a calculated expression of Indonesia's foreign policy doctrine of non-alignment, domestic political caution and regional diplomatic restraint.
Australia may view the lack of outrage or strong rhetorical pushback from Jakarta as a sign of ambiguity or even strategic hedging. But this would be a misjudgement of how Indonesia navigates great power competition. The country's preference for understated diplomacy is not a weakness; it is a product of deeply rooted principles and historical experience.
In early April, media reports emerged suggesting that Russia had requested to base long-range aircraft in Biak, a small island in Papua. The Indonesian defence ministry quickly issued a brief statement rejecting the report. No grandstanding, no televised press conferences and certainly no escalatory rhetoric.
This kind of restraint has long been part of Indonesia's playbook, and it extends beyond public statements. When Australia's defence minister contacted Indonesia's defence minister to seek clarification, Indonesia conveyed its position clearly and directly: the report was false and Jakarta had no intention of allowing such basing. The message was firm and delivered through quiet but unambiguous diplomatic channels. Though some foreign observers may find it unsatisfying, this approach allows Indonesia to preserve room for manoeuvre.
Indonesia's 'independent and active' doctrine is more than a slogan. Indonesia's recent decision to join BRICS – a group where Russia plays a prominent role – may indicate a gesture of alignment, but it is better understood as part of Jakarta's broader interest in multipolar forums. Such engagement supports Indonesia's non-aligned policy, allowing it to engage multiple powers while avoiding entanglement in blocs.
Nevertheless, when combined with other issues, such as the Biak basing reports, it is understandable that these developments may concern Canberra. This non-aligned stance has helped Indonesia weather Cold War pressures, regional conflicts and, more recently, the strategic tug-of-war between the United States and China.
This concern reflects longstanding patterns in the Australia-Indonesia relationship. The relationship has long been shaped by shared strategic interests, from maritime security and disaster response to regional stability, even as it has experienced periods of tension and recalibration.
Jakarta responded to the Biak report with a firm but calm statement, showing its typical diplomatic style. At the same time, it was careful to ensure that partners such as Australia would not misunderstand its silence as uncertainty. These geographic realities heighten Canberra's sensitivities, but they do not change Jakarta's steady posture. Long-range Russian aircraft stationed in Indonesia, if ever realised, would understandably trigger strategic concern in Canberra.
Jakarta's restraint is not an invitation to doubt its alignment or question its reliability. It is a signal of how it intends to manage rising geopolitical pressure: by staying calm, avoiding theatre and asserting control over its own narrative. That narrative is grounded in sovereignty and, yes, in a form of regional leadership that values stability over spectacle.
Indonesia also understands that loud declarations can backfire, especially when domestic dynamics are at play. In fact, civil society observers and policy analysts have openly reminded the Prabowo administration to remain sober and uphold Indonesia's long-standing non-alignment, cautioning against any defence postures that could invite strategic misperception.
The government is sensitive to how Papua features in both international and domestic political debates. Amplifying the Biak story could have generated unnecessary heat and risked politicising a defence matter that Jakarta was keen to close quickly.
For Australia, the key is not to misread silence as passivity or fence-sitting. Indonesia's approach may not always align with Canberra's expectations of strategic signalling, but that does not make it opaque. Instead, it calls for a deeper understanding of how Indonesia communicates intent: often subtly, often on its own terms.
The Australia-Indonesia relationship is stronger when both sides recognise each other's strategic cultures. Australia prefers clarity and predictability in foreign policy, while Indonesia sometimes keeps its position flexible to reduce external pressure. These differences are not flaws; they are features to be managed with mutual respect.
Misreading Indonesia's restraint risks reinforcing a false binary: the idea that if a partner isn't loudly with us, they must be against us. The idea that Australia needs to 'do business with partners who have friends we don't like' oversimplifies the complexity of regional partnerships. Such phrasing may be analytically useful, but it risks normalising transactional attitudes in relationships that require nuance, reciprocity and long-term investment.
Indonesia's foreign policy is rarely that binary. It is calibrated, complex and designed for flexibility. Recognising this approach for what it is – not a lack of commitment, but a deliberate form of regional statecraft – can help Australia navigate its strategic partnership with Indonesia more constructively.
[Hangga Fathana is an assistant professor in the Department of International Relations at Universitas Islam Indonesia.]
Source: https://www.aspistrategist.org.au/no-russia-in-papua-indonesias-quiet-diplomacy-speaks-loudly