Leading with Heart
At a moment with Teddy Indra Wijaya, now Cabinet Secretary, we once accompanied Mr Prabowo to meet senior kiai of East Java. In that solemn meeting, with a soft and almost trembling voice, he said, ‘I have no interest whatsoever other than to continue serving the nation and state for the rest of my life. And I thank Mr Jokowi for giving me this opportunity.’ His tears fell slowly.
That meeting took place long before he was designated as a presidential candidate. In a modest room, before kiai who had largely dedicated their lives to the community, Mr Prabowo did not speak about survey figures, winning strategies, or electoral calculations. He spoke about the remainder of his life, about service, and about gratitude that was so sincere. From that moment, his humanist side shone brightly.
From the many decisions he has taken, one thing has become clear: Mr Prabowo leads with instinct and heart, not merely with quantitative calculation. He does not always chase popularity. He does not have to be the most liked in every stratum, as long as the steps taken are aligned with his deepest convictions and dedicated to serving the people and the ideals of the nation’s founders.
It is here that Robert K. Greenleaf’s theory of servant leadership finds its relevance. True leadership places service as the primary aim, not power. A leader who truly leads does not ask, ‘What can I get?’, but rather, ‘What can I give?’ President Prabowo, in difficult decisions, seems to continually answer that question from the depths of his conscience.
Consider his commitment to cooperatives. He wants to revive the ideals of the nation’s founders, namely cooperatives as the pillar of the economy. Not merely rhetoric, he has taken a real and bold step by shifting budget concentration. He knows the risks. Village heads could be angered. Yet they are a highly valuable vote bank in every political contest. However, because he believes that cooperatives are the path conceived by his predecessors, including his own grandfathers, he continues to move forward. He does not retreat merely for fear of losing support.
Another example is seen in the free nutritious meals programme. Amid fiscal constraints and a barrage of criticism, he remains steadfast. Not because the programme instantly boosts popularity, but because he sees Indonesian children who are still hungry in the morning, who still lack nutrition in the golden age of growth. A heart that hears the suffering of ordinary people cannot pretend to be deaf. He chooses to protect the future generation, even though the step demands political and administrative sacrifices that are not light.
On defence and sovereignty, the same pattern repeats. Mr Prabowo does not view military strength merely as an instrument of power, but as a guarantee that this nation will no longer experience the humiliation it once suffered in the past. He speaks of self-reliance, of dignity, of a homeland that must be guarded with all hope. That is not merely strategic doctrine. It is a deep love, long rooted, for a land liberated with blood and tears.
Most striking is also his order to reorganise state-owned enterprises. He has ordered a massive transformation: streamlining hundreds of state companies, abolishing bonuses, trimming bloated structures, and closing companies that only burden the people’s money without producing added value. He is not afraid of being unpopular. He knows this policy will invite resistance, even from circles that have long been comfortable with bureaucratic luxury. Yet he continues to move forward, in order to anticipate leak after leak that has been eroding state assets. For him, every rupiah of the people’s money must be safeguarded and accounted for.
Mahatma Gandhi once said, ‘The best way to find yourself is to lose yourself in the service of others.’ That sentence feels very close to what a Prabowo uttered before those senior kiai. He seemed to be drifting and drowning in service, and it is precisely there that he finds his identity as a leader.
The Dalai Lama reminds us that true leadership is born of compassion, not ambition alone. ‘Love and compassion are necessities, not luxuries. Without them, humanity cannot survive.’ Without compassion, without a heart capable of feeling the pulse of the people’s suffering, leadership is merely a cold machine of power. Mr Prabowo, in his tears in Surabaya at that time, in his steadfastness on cooperatives, in his determination to protect children from fear and hunger, in safeguarding sovereignty, and in reorganising state-owned enterprises, shows that he does not allow his heart to freeze.
Amid the independence commemoration we are celebrating, let us pause for a moment to reflect. The independence of 1945 was not only about seizing land from the colonisers. It is a promise to continue serving, to continue guarding, to continue leading with heart. The nation’s founders shed blood and tears so that the next generation would have room to serve without fear, to love without hesitation.
Leading with heart does not mean ignoring reason and data. It actually places reason and data under the guidance of conscience. It makes a leader brave enough to take unpopular risks, brave enough to bear criticism, brave enough to remain standing when the political wind blows hard in a different direction. Because what he hears first is not the voice of surveys, but the heartbeat of the people and the whisper of history.
Mr Prabowo, in moments both calm and turbulent, seems to continually remind us that service has no expiry date. As long as there is life left, as long as there is breath, service to the nation…