Hundreds of students and civil society groups have taken to the streets in Indonesia’s major cities, braving the threat of a government crackdown after a week of unrest that has left eight people dead and more than 700 injured. The protests, which began on August 25, 2025, were initially sparked by widespread anger over the government’s spending priorities—most notably, enhanced perks for lawmakers—but quickly escalated into the worst violence the country has seen in over two decades.
At the heart of the turmoil was a tragic incident that further ignited public outrage. On the night of August 28, Affan Kurniawan, a 21-year-old motorcycle taxi driver, was caught in a crowd of protesters in Jakarta while delivering food. According to reporting from multiple sources, Affan dropped his mobile phone and knelt down to pick it up. In that vulnerable moment, an armored police vehicle slammed into him, pinning him under its front tires. As a crowd rushed to the scene, the officer behind the wheel accelerated, running over Affan’s body. He was rushed to a nearby hospital but did not survive.
The death of Affan became a rallying cry for demonstrators already frustrated by what they saw as government indifference to the needs of ordinary Indonesians. Protests intensified, particularly in Makassar, where the weekend of August 30-31 saw deadly riots and arson that claimed at least four lives. The violence, which included the looting of homes belonging to political party members and the finance minister, as well as the ransacking and burning of state buildings, marked the biggest challenge to President Prabowo Subianto’s administration since he took office nearly a year ago.
President Prabowo responded to the chaos on Sunday, August 31, by announcing a cut in lawmakers’ perks—a major concession to the protesters. However, he also issued a stern warning, stating that security forces would act firmly to maintain law and order. This heavy-handed approach, with military-led patrols visible on Jakarta’s main roads, prompted some protest organizers to postpone gatherings in the capital. Yet, defiant groups of student protesters still assembled in Jakarta, as well as in Yogyakarta and Makassar, undeterred by the risk of confrontation.
“The President’s statement yesterday did not accommodate demands from students and civil society,” declared Syamry, the leader of a student group from Makassar State University. Syamry, who goes by only one name, explained that the movement’s demands go beyond the immediate issue of lawmakers’ perks, calling for comprehensive reform in the police and broader changes to government accountability.
The unrest has unsettled Indonesia’s financial markets. According to coverage from the Australian Associated Press, the Indonesian stock market fell more than three percent in opening trades on September 1 before recovering some ground. The capital’s governor, Pramono Anung, reported that more than 700 people had been injured and that infrastructure damages from the previous week’s protests in Jakarta alone were valued at $US3.4 million ($A5.2 million).
As of September 1, chief economic minister Airlangga Hartarto confirmed that eight people had died during the protests. The violence and the government’s response have led to more than 1,200 protesters being detained in Jakarta by the end of August, as reported by the city’s police chief. The scale of the crackdown has prompted both outrage and caution among civil society groups, with some organizers choosing to delay or relocate planned demonstrations to avoid further escalation.
One such group, the Alliance of Indonesian Women—a coalition of women-led civil society organizations—announced on Instagram that it had postponed a planned protest at parliament. “The delay is done to avoid increased violent escalation by authorities ... the delay takes place until the situations calm down,” the group explained. Student organizations echoed this caution, with an umbrella group stating the decision to delay protests was “due to very impossible conditions.”
Despite the tense atmosphere, the streets of Jakarta have not fallen silent. Army patrols are a common sight, traffic is thin, and many businesses have allowed employees to work from home while schools have shifted to online classes. Social media has become an important tool for organizers and participants alike, with warnings circulating about fake protest calls and reminders to exercise caution amid the heightened security presence.
Finance Minister Sri Mulyani Indrawati, whose home was among those looted during the unrest, took to Instagram to confirm her experience as a victim. She called on Indonesians not to resort to looting and offered an apology for the government’s shortcomings. Her statement captured the deep sense of frustration and loss felt by many: “We must not let anger destroy what we have built together. I apologize for the government’s shortcomings and urge everyone to seek peaceful solutions.”
As the dust settles, questions remain about the government’s next steps. Ratings agency S&P weighed in with a note on Indonesia, stating that the protests are unlikely to escalate to a degree that would undermine political stability. However, the agency warned that policy adjustments to address public anger—such as increased social spending to support middle- and lower-income groups—could push the fiscal deficit close to the legal limit of three percent of GDP.
“One potential result is an increase on social spending to boost support for middle- and lower-income groups,” S&P wrote. “That in turn could lead to a higher fiscal deficit of close to the legal limit of three per cent of GDP.” Chief economic minister Hartarto, for his part, insisted that the economy remains fundamentally solid and would benefit from a planned incentive package designed to restore confidence and stability.
The roots of the current crisis run deep. Many Indonesians see the government’s focus on perks for lawmakers as emblematic of a broader disconnect between the country’s political elite and the everyday struggles of ordinary citizens. The tragic death of Affan Kurniawan—a young man simply trying to make a living—brought these frustrations to the fore in heartbreaking fashion. His story has become a symbol of the movement for change, a reminder of the human cost of political and social upheaval.
As Indonesia stands at this crossroads, the path forward remains uncertain. The government’s concessions may have quelled some immediate anger, but the calls for deeper reform are unlikely to fade. For now, the streets are quieter, but the echoes of protest—and the memory of those lost—continue to reverberate through the nation’s conscience.
