Between Trash Runs and Political Tides: A Collector's View from the Margins
In the narrow lanes of Purwokerto Lor, Suripto navigates his waste cart with practiced efficiency, collecting garbage from households in his assigned neighborhood. For the past three or four years, this work has sustained his family—though not without challenges. "Trash collection is difficult these days," he sighs, wiping sweat from his brow. "The payment issues are the hardest part." Behind this mundane struggle lies a man with surprisingly nuanced political perspectives that defy simplistic assumptions about Indonesia's lower-income voters.
His modest home, which he built himself over six months while simultaneously running his trash collection route, serves as both shelter for his family of five and an informal gathering spot where neighbors occasionally stop by. Here, Suripto and his wife Sunarti navigate not only household economics but also the complex web of social assistance programs and political influences that shape their lives.
"We used to receive PKH, but it stopped more than a year ago," Sunarti explains, referring to the Family Hope Program that supported them when their youngest child—now in first grade—was still under five years old. The assistance wasn't insignificant: "PKH helped me buy milk, vitamins—things I couldn't otherwise afford for a three-year-old child." This experience with targeted assistance has given her a practical understanding of social welfare design, noting how eligibility is tied to specific demographic criteria like having children under five.
Currently, the family receives BPNT (Non-Cash Food Assistance), which provides 200,000 rupiah monthly, distributed every two months through a Prosperous Family Card that functions similarly to an ATM card. They also qualify for the government's rice distribution program—receiving 10 kilograms monthly for the past seven months, with promises of continued support through December.
Unlike narratives that portray assistance recipients as passive, the couple actively manages these resources with careful planning. "You need to program the money," Suripto emphasizes, describing how they allocate funds specifically for electricity, water service, and other necessities. "Many people use the money inappropriately, or it immediately goes to pay off loans." This strategic financial management reflects not dependency but resilience—stretching limited resources to address their household's most pressing needs.
Their experience with Indonesia's evolving social assistance landscape includes witnessing transitions from in-kind to cash transfers. "With BPNT, when it was still in the form of food items, the money didn't match the goods," Sunarti recalls, highlighting her practical evaluation of different assistance models. This preference for cash transfers stems not from laziness but from rational assessment of which format delivers more value to their household.
When asked if receiving government assistance creates a sense of obligation to support the current administration, Suripto's response reveals a more complex political calculation: "Yes, if you receive assistance, you should support [the government]. Their programs are good—better the money goes to the people than gets corrupted." Yet this general principle doesn't translate to uncritical loyalty toward specific parties or candidates.
Suripto's political perspective is shaped more by his evaluation of leadership character than by the assistance his family receives. "I like Jokowi's character," he explains, expressing admiration for what he perceives as the president's integrity and courage in negotiating national resource rights like the Freeport mine. "There's never been a president like Jokowi, so intelligent." This assessment leads him to support political figures he associates with Jokowi's legacy—including Prabowo Subianto after the former general joined Jokowi's cabinet.
"Prabowo completely changed after being with Jokowi," Suripto observes, noting how the once-harsh military man evolved into someone "cooler, funny" during the campaign. This transformation narrative resonates with his understanding of redemption and growth, allowing him to reconcile Prabowo's controversial past with his current political persona. Though he admits to disliking Prabowo's running mate Gibran Rakabuming Raka ("Just looking at him, I don't like his face—he seems annoying"), his support for the ticket derives from Prabowo's association with Jokowi's governance approach.
Despite limited formal education, Suripto actively consumes political news and forms independent judgments about Indonesia's political landscape. He expresses frustration with the lack of respect shown to the presidency in contemporary political discourse: "There's too much freedom, no ethics in how people speak. The president has no dignity—people can say anything about him." This concern reflects not authoritarian inclinations but rather a belief that effective governance requires institutional respect, regardless of who holds office.
His critique extends to political campaign tactics he has witnessed firsthand. As both a neighborhood security volunteer (Linmas) and occasional campaign worker, Suripto has seen how parties attempt to influence voters—particularly through social assistance programs. "They threatened people, saying if you don't vote for this candidate, you won't get PKH assistance," he recalls with disgust. "That's impossible—these programs continue regardless of who's in power. It's the government's responsibility, not a particular candidate's."
This sophisticated understanding of how social assistance functions independently from electoral politics allows him to maintain political autonomy while benefiting from government programs. When a certain political group distributed gold pendants to potential voters while suggesting PKH benefits might be contingent on electoral support, Suripto and his wife recognized the manipulation tactic: "We were told by our PKH facilitator—don't believe it, they're just trying to deceive you."
"We're hoping the assistance can continue, so our child can go to school at a higher level,"
The family's religious identity informs their political values without dictating specific partisan attachments. "Religion matters—I'm Muslim, so I want a Muslim president," Suripto notes, but this preference operates alongside other considerations including policy continuity and perceived integrity. Unlike some religiously motivated voters who might support candidates primarily on faith grounds, Suripto evaluates leadership qualities through a more multidimensional lens.
When discussing Indonesia's future under President-elect Prabowo, both Suripto and Sunarti express cautious optimism about continued social assistance: "We're hoping the assistance can continue, so our child can go to school at a higher level," Sunarti says. This aspiration reflects how social assistance supports not dependency but aspirational thinking—providing a foundation from which families can imagine better futures for their children.
Surprisingly for someone who has benefited from government assistance programs, Suripto expresses strong support for the controversial and expensive new capital city project (IKN): "I agree with IKN. Jakarta will eventually sink. Jokowi is right." This ability to consider national priorities beyond his immediate economic interests challenges assumptions that lower-income voters focus exclusively on personal benefit when forming political opinions.