‘Dracula State’ and Wiretapping: When Power Can Be Crippled by Data

If vampires or draculas are legends that rise at night to sink their fangs into people and drain fresh blood to prolong their immortality, then a “Dracula State” is a country—or, more precisely, individuals within its power structure—that use the instruments of state power to sink digital “fangs” into citizens’ privacy and secretly gorge on their personal information.

While a dracula drinks blood to stay alive, those within a “Dracula State” harvest information to perpetuate their power. Both seek immortality. For a dracula, blood is the source of life; for those within a “Dracula State”, people’s private secrets, communication transcripts and most intimate conversations—belonging to citizens, officials, politicians and even the President—are prime commodities for maintaining their grip on power.

Bigger than Watergate

Imagine that Listyo Sigit Prabowo, then National Police Chief, and his inner circle allegedly tapped the serving President, two former Presidents, political party leaders, politicians, state officials, civil society figures and thousands of other citizens.

Given the breadth of the targets and the vast number of alleged victims, this may be unprecedented worldwide. This is no longer an ordinary crime, but an extraordinary one. If there is a category of crime that goes beyond “extraordinary crime”, this case may fit it.

Until now, the global wiretapping scandal most often cited has been Watergate in the United States. After this alleged incident, Indonesia may contribute a new term to political literature and global discourse. If the “old world” knew Watergate, global political history may now record a new term from Indonesia: “ListyoGate”, or another name.

If there is anything to be “grateful” for—despite the shame and profound concern—it may be this: Indonesia has entered the record books, albeit for something bad: the biggest wiretapping scandal in the history of modern democracy. Its scale and impact could make Watergate seem small.

Watergate “only” involved the tapping of one political party. This case allegedly targeted all parties and their leaders, the serving President, former Presidents and thousands of others. Everyone on Indonesia’s “political map” was swept up in the surveillance. The only ones left out were certain political groups affiliated with the alleged wiretappers themselves. Whether this is borne out by the evidence remains to be seen in the investigation, prosecution and trial. That is where everything should be brought to light.

LSP is a police officer and law enforcer. As National Police Chief, he was one of the Republic’s foremost guardians of the law: a figure responsible for ensuring that the law is obeyed and everyone is protected. His alleged actions would therefore be more than a breach of privacy; they would be a direct blow to democracy and the rule of law, and an affront to a Constitution that upholds human rights.

This is only an account of LSP’s role as National Police Chief; it does not yet address the motives and aims behind the alleged surveillance. Was anyone directing him? Who benefited from the intercepted material? These and many other questions remain.

The mastermind: who gave the order?

In my view, LSP’s arrest is only half the truth—the first page of what may be a darker next chapter. The more substantial questions, both criminal and political, concern the motive behind the surveillance. Was it entirely LSP’s own initiative? If so, what was his aim in daring to monitor so many people, including the President, who was technically his superior? Or was there a mastermind behind it? In criminal law, the person who orders another to carry out an offence is known as a doenpleger. Finally, where did the information and benefits from the surveillance flow?

Investigators and the police must answer these crucial questions honestly, transparently and accountably. The public is entitled to a full explanation, with no facts concealed. Those whose names were allegedly included in the surveillance will naturally want this aspect exposed as clearly as possible. There is an anomaly: the surveillance appears to have been selective. Some were monitored while others were not, despite the latter holding positions almost as senior as those who were. That raises serious questions.

When almost the entire political landscape—from the highest reaches of power in the presidential palace, including the President, former Presidents and party leaders, to journalists and non-governmental organisations—has allegedly been monitored, the information obtained is clearly no longer ordinary data. In politics, information is often the most potent commodity. It can be used to undermine a President, as political blackmail, as leverage in negotiations, as an under-the-table transaction, or as a means of disabling opponents and protecting certain groups.

This case must not stop at the alleged involvement of LSP and his associates. Nor should it be investigated merely as a routine breach of interception procedures under the Electronic Information and Transactions Law and National Police regulations, while investigators fail—or deliberately refuse—to identify who was behind the surveillance and whose interests it served.

If that happens, we will not be exposing a scandal but concealing a much larger problem. We will punish the hands that carried out the work while leaving the minds that designed and controlled the surveillance free.

The state, through its investigators, must not identify who conducted the surveillance but fail—or lack the courage—to uncover who was really behind it. Justice cannot be complete if only the operatives are punished while the masterminds and those who benefited from the alleged crime remain free and untouched.

Law enforcers must therefore pursue this case seriously, transparently and to its conclusion.

Digital-era subversion: a threat to the head of state

Subversion is a legal term with very serious consequences, so it must not be used casually. Proving it in criminal law is also difficult. But caution over the term must not become a reason to avoid examining whether a more serious crime lies behind the alleged surveillance, including a possible threat to the President or the lawful government.

Compared with the alleged surveillance of other political figures, the alleged monitoring of President Prabowo must be examined more broadly and deeply. Investigators must not focus solely on LSP and his associates’ alleged actions as procedural and legal violations. They must also investigate the purpose, motive and interests behind them.

Tapping a President cannot be treated in the same way as tapping an ordinary citizen. The President is not only an individual with a right to privacy, but also the Head of State, exercising executive power under the Constitution. Presidential communications may concern state secrets, strategic policy, national security, international relations and important decisions that determine the country’s direction.

If the information obtained through surveillance was used to identify the President’s weaknesses and then apply political pressure, disrupt government stability or prepare to overthrow the government, the matter would go far beyond a privacy violation and abuse of authority. At that point, investigators must be prepared to consider whether a much more serious crime involving state security has occurred, including possible subversion.

In conventional criminal law, subversion is often understood as a physical attempt to threaten the President’s safety or overthrow a lawful government through armed force, open rebellion and similar means. But in today’s political landscape, driven by information, social media and digital technology, threats to a state’s existence have shifted radically into non-military and non-violent domains.

A country’s sovereignty and the safety of its head of state are no longer threatened only by artillery or the mobilisation of crowds in the streets. The deadliest threats can emerge from the dark corners of cyberspace through illegal interception and the secret collection of private information. As with the alleged surveillance of the President, lawful power might be toppled or paralysed not by “bullets”, but through information-based blackmail.

This shift in criminal methods demands a more progressive approach to the law. The alleged surveillance of the President and senior policymakers should alert us to a new form of “subversion”.

If criminal law remains trapped in a classical definition that assumes subversion must involve an intent, preparatory acts and a physical attempt to overthrow power or mount an attack (aanslag), it will be ill-equipped to respond to this new type of threat. Today, paralysing a state no longer requires troop movements; control of data flows and the secrets of the highest decision-makers may be enough.

We must be prepared to broaden our legal understanding of subversion and national security. Secret and illegal surveillance of the country’s highest leader should, in itself, be considered a form of subversion. Bringing down or disabling a head of state no longer requires bullets or mass mobilisation; control of data may suffice.

Today, a Head of State can easily be held hostage by stolen data—especially when the betrayal comes from within the government itself.

The way forward

This scandal must not simply fade away. The dark episode must become a turning point and an opportunity for a wholesale overhaul of the rules and oversight governing interception. No state instrument should be allowed to operate without strict controls and supervision.

The lesson should be that interception powers must no longer be treated as an internal policy matter for individual agencies. They should be restored to their proper status as an extraordinary legal measure, executable only under extremely strict evidentiary standards.

We must end the era of “unchecked wiretapping powers” by requiring all law-enforcement agencies to obtain judicial authorisation. Judges should act as a constitutional filter, ensuring that surveillance is genuinely intended to combat serious crimes—such as terrorism, corruption, narcotics offences and other grave crimes—not to spy on political rivals, let alone the country’s leaders.

If judicial authorisation is considered too burdensome, compromises confidentiality or risks slowing law enforcement, post-action oversight could be an alternative. Every six months, all interception equipment, servers and activity should be audited regularly by an independent commission or body to ensure there has been no illegal surveillance, covert recording or abuse of authority.

Interception is undoubtedly an important tool for law enforcement and the protection of national security. It should therefore be retained, and the state may even need to equip itself with more advanced technology. But given its reach and the impact of potential misuse—particularly in light of this alleged surveillance scandal—a system of layered oversight is essential.

The Republic was founded on the noble ideal of a state governed by the rule of law (Rechtsstaat), not a surveillance state. We firmly reject Indonesia’s slipping into a “Dracula State”—a condition in which those in power use state instruments to harvest information, violate privacy and spy on citizens to perpetuate their rule.

Let this be a bitter lesson—and the last such episode in our country.