Considering the KPK's Recommendations: Politics Needs Prophetic Character
The Corruption Eradication Commission (KPK)’s recommendations regarding improvements to political party governance represent an important step in efforts to reform Indonesia’s political system from the ground up. The KPK aptly highlights that political corruption does not emerge suddenly in the corridors of power but is rooted in weaknesses in the recruitment and cadre development processes within political parties.
Proposals such as strengthening tiered cadre development, requiring prospective leaders to emerge from party cadres, and limiting the terms of general chairmen form essential foundations for healthier politics. These are efforts to build meritocracy, reduce instant politics, and ensure that those ascending to the pinnacle of power have undergone a long process of organisational, managerial, and political learning.
Nevertheless, there is one fundamental aspect that is often overlooked: politics requires not only a good system but also good people.
Formal cadre development—with tiers from youth to intermediate to advanced—only touches on technocratic-administrative aspects. It is important but not sufficient. Many systems appear neat on paper but fail in practice because they are filled by individuals who are morally weak. This is where the urgency lies in questioning the character aspect in politics.
In the Islamic tradition, leadership standards have long been formulated through prophetic qualities: amanah (trustworthiness), shiddiq (honesty), tabligh (transparency), and fathanah (intelligence and competence). These are not mere normative idealism but highly practical ethical standards. A trustworthy leader will not abuse their position. An honest one will not manipulate data. A transparent one will not hide interests. And an intelligent one will manage the state well.
The problem is that our political parties often value electability over integrity, popularity over moral depth. As a result, not a few leaders who “pass” politically fail ethically.
Therefore, the KPK’s idea of cadre development needs to be expanded more substantively. Cadre development must not stop at formal training, seminars, or classical political education. It must become a process of forming complete human beings—one that integrates technical capacity, managerial ability, and personal piety.
Furthermore, the cadre selection process needs to touch on their everyday real lives. What is their lifestyle? Do they live simply or consumptively-hedonistically? What about their family life? Do they uphold moral values in the private sphere? This is important because integrity cannot be faked in the long term—it is reflected in daily life.
Admittedly, the idea of monitoring personal life can be seen as sensitive. However, in the context of public leadership, it is relevant. A leader is not merely an administrative official but a role model. When their personal life is poor, there is a high likelihood that their public decisions will also be prone to deviation.
At this point, it is interesting to look at practices in other countries for reflection—not to be copied wholesale, but as a benchmark. Iran’s political system, for example, shows how the leader selection process is not based solely on popularity but passes through layered screening that considers ideological, moral, and scholarly aspects.
In Iran, political candidates—whether for parliament or president—must undergo strict verification by the Guardian Council, which functions to screen the ideological fitness and integrity of candidates. Additionally, the supreme leader (head of state, Rahbar) is chosen by the Assembly of Experts, a council of clerics that not only considers political ability but also the depth of religious knowledge and personal integrity of the candidate.
This structure demonstrates that the leadership selection process is conducted in layers: from the people, then filtered by institutions that uphold moral and ideological standards. Even, Iran’s political system explicitly combines religious and electoral elements in one power framework.
Of course, this system is not without criticism. However, as material for reflection, it offers an important lesson: leadership must not be left entirely to electoral mechanisms without quality filters. There must be mechanisms to ensure that only individuals with certain capacity, integrity, and moral depth can rise to the top.
Indonesia certainly does not have to adopt that model wholesale. But its spirit is relevant: that politics requires safeguarding the quality of people, not just procedures.
If combined with the KPK’s recommendations, the direction of political reform in Indonesia should move towards three things simultaneously: (a) strengthening cadre development systems; (b) building strict and layered selection mechanisms; and (c) ensuring ongoing character building—even into the realm of everyday life.
Political parties, in this regard, must transform. They cannot merely be “electoral machines” but must become “human development institutions”. They must dare to set high standards: only those who are technically competent, managerially mature, and personally pious are worthy of ascending to leadership levels.
Indonesia does not lack intelligent people. What we need are trustworthy leaders—who see power as a responsibility, not an opportunity. Leaders who serve, not are served. Leaders who are close to the people, as well as close to God.
In the end, politics is not just about who wins, but who is worthy to lead. And that worthiness is not determined only by the most votes, but by the deepest quality of a human being.
It is there that politics must return to learning from the prophetic example: that power is a trust—and a trust is only fittingly borne by those who are clean, strong, and responsible, both before humanity and before God.