Looking Beyond Party Lines: A Young Worker's Political Awakening
In the bustle of Purwokerto's railway station, 21-year-old Syifa moves methodically through his duties as a maintenance worker. His bright yellow uniform marks him as one of the many young Indonesians whose daily labor keeps the country's infrastructure functioning. But beneath this outward conformity lies a mind that defies easy political categorization.
"I'm neutral," he says with quiet confidence when asked about his political leanings. This neutrality isn't born from apathy, but from a deliberate choice to form independent judgments despite familial pressure. "My father supports one side," he explains, "but which one I want to support is up to me." This assertion of autonomy reveals the generational shifts occurring in Indonesia's political landscape, where young voters increasingly resist the inherited loyalties that once defined electoral politics.
Syifa's political journey began earlier than most. With two younger siblings to help support, he started working even before completing his vocational high school studies in building construction. This early entry into Indonesia's workforce gave him a ground-level view of systemic issues that more privileged citizens might never encounter. "In construction logistics, corruption happens so quickly," he observes, drawing from his experience in the sector before joining the railway. This firsthand exposure to Indonesia's endemic corruption has made him deeply skeptical of campaign promises: "Corruption can't be eliminated... so why promise to eliminate it?"
"I'm neutral"
"My father supports one side, but which one I want to support is up to me."
“KIP is not reaching the right targets”
His family's experience with government assistance programs has further shaped his political outlook. Syifa recalls how their household initially received Bantuan Sosial (Bansos) in the form of food staples before the program transitioned to cash transfers. While acknowledging that the assistance helped—"maybe it's enough for my mother for one month, or half a month"—his critique focuses on systemic implementation issues rather than political gratitude.
"For the KIP (Indonesia Smart Card) program, I know from my friends who got it that it wasn't appropriate," he observes. "My friend who was well-off still received it. So it's not reaching the right targets." This concern about targeting accuracy reflects a sophisticated understanding of policy implementation challenges that belies stereotypes about lower-income voters being easily satisfied with handouts.
What do you do?The digital streams of TikTok, YouTube, and Instagram, rather than traditional campaign events, shaped Syifa's exposure to electoral promises. He recalls how algorithms repeatedly surfaced content about Prabowo Subianto's promise of free milk and meals for schoolchildren. Yet this digital exposure didn't translate to uncritical acceptance. When his father expressed support for these promises, Syifa remained skeptical: "Is this free milk really going to happen?"
His skepticism extends to how campaign assistance was distributed in his community. "If you want support, you have to give something," he notes matter-of-factly about political campaign tactics. He describes how neighbors displayed banners for candidates after receiving food packages, revealing an implicit transactional relationship. Yet Syifa himself remained unmoved by these gestures, maintaining his political independence despite being surrounded by visual signifiers of allegiance.
Historical awareness informs Syifa's political frameworks far more than immediate economic incentives. Conversations with older railway workers introduced him to Indonesia's troubled history with human rights violations. Referring to Prabowo's alleged involvement in the 1998 violence, he questions: "How is he running again now? Will it happen again?" This historical lens provides perspective absent from TikTok's algorithm-driven political content, allowing him to evaluate candidates beyond their curated campaign personas.
image source: www.freepik.comYet Syifa's political imagination extends beyond critiquing existing power structures. When asked about his ideal leadership for Indonesia, he envisions possibilities rarely discussed in mainstream political discourse: "I'd like to see someone from Maluku or Papua run. From the beginning, it's always been either Java or Sumatra." This call for geographical diversity in leadership reveals his recognition that Indonesia's democracy remains incomplete while entire regions remain politically marginalized.
Gender equality similarly figures prominently in his political values. "Why must it always be men at the top?" he asks, noting how corruption scandals predominantly feature male politicians. "Why not women instead? Try having more women." This perspective challenges Indonesia's male-dominated political establishment without relying on academic feminist frameworks, emerging instead from his pragmatic observations of governance failures.
His vocational background also informs his assessment of infrastructure priorities. Regarding the massive IKN (new capital city) project, Syifa questions the rushed timeline: "Why must the IKN be completed so quickly? Why not finish things one by one?" He articulates alternatives that prioritize addressing immediate needs: "Fix Jakarta first. The embankments in North Jakarta are already overflowing." This ground-level critique contrasts sharply with the grand visions promoted in presidential debates—debates Syifa intentionally avoided watching.
The contradictions between campaign rhetoric and implementation realities color Syifa's expectations for Indonesia's future under President-elect Prabowo. Asked about his optimism regarding corruption reduction and social assistance improvements, he responds with measured expectations: "If I had to quantify my optimism, it would be 50-50." This balanced assessment reveals neither cynical disengagement nor naive hope, but rather a reasoned evaluation based on lived experience.