Statecraft and Human Rights Challenges: Reassessing Realism in Indonesia's Context

There is something to be appreciated in the column recently written by Natalius Pigai, Indonesia’s Minister of Human Rights, on detik.com. Not many public officials are willing to argue in the public sphere, stake their intellectual position, and invite the public to think together about government policy. That takes courage that deserves recognition. And precisely because of this, the arguments put forward by Pigai warrant serious consideration.

Before entering the debate, it would be wise for us to first agree on what is meant by statecraft, which is the subject of discussion in his article. In the tradition of International Relations scholarship, statecraft is understood as the art and science of managing a state: how a state reads its strategic environment, formulates national interests, and deploys the instruments at its disposal to achieve them.

Morton Kaplan (1952) asserted that statecraft is not merely foreign policy or diplomacy. It is the entire strategy of how a state behaves in a world full of competition, and whether a nation’s statecraft succeeds or fails, in his words, may settle the fate of our way of life.

Pigai explains that President Prabowo operates within a Realist framework—referring to Thucydides, Kautilya, and Mearsheimer—as the foundation for Indonesia’s statecraft amid today’s geopolitical turmoil. Indonesia, according to Pigai, is on the Realist path between the blocs of Socialism and Capitalism.

I am not entirely opposed to the premise that today’s world operates on the logic of power. It is a description difficult to refute, especially given what is happening in the Middle East these days. However, there are two fundamental issues we need to discuss from the various problems in that article.

First, there is an error in how Pigai reads Realism itself. Realism is not an ideology—it is a theory in International Relations, and both capitalist and socialist states can act realistically. Mearsheimer himself describes how the international system works, not urging us to surrender entirely to circumstances.

Even Mearsheimer is one of the most consistent voices criticizing American intervention in Iraq, Ukraine, and the Middle East—precisely because he understands the limitations of hegemonic logic. Using Mearsheimer to legitimise Indonesia’s involvement in the Board of Peace led by Trump is quite a profound irony: Mearsheimer himself is highly critical of that initiative.

Second, and this is more fundamental, there is a problem difficult to ignore when this argument comes from a Minister of Human Rights. The Thucydides quote in the Melian Dialogue depicts the logic of power as it is: the strong set the rules, the weak bear the consequences.

Human rights, both as an idea and as an institution, was born precisely as an answer to that logic—that there are rights that cannot be stripped away, that force cannot be the sole determinant of justice. When the Minister of Human Rights adopts the very framework that human rights itself seeks to oppose, we are entitled to ask: what then is the position of human rights in the statecraft being constructed by this state?

This certainly cannot be answered solely by a disclaimer at the beginning of his article: “there is no evil that can be compromised, because evil is the enemy of mankind.” We await a more substantive explanation: how will the Minister of Human Rights address today’s geopolitical turmoil with a framework that transcends resignation to the state of the world.

And this is where I wish to shift the conversation to a more important question: Can Indonesia conduct statecraft that respects human rights principles in an uncertain world like this?

I refuse to believe that a realist and harsh world is reason to make human rights secondary. There is a tradition of thinking in International Relations that rejects the binary choice between power and values, including the International Society approach. This tradition argues that the international world is not merely an arena of mutual elbowing without rules, but rather a society—a community of states that share norms, institutions, and rules of engagement without negating real power.

In such an international society, human rights is not a foreign agenda imposed from outside; it has already become part of international norms of conduct, equivalent to norms of sovereignty and diplomacy, for instance. And moral legitimacy carries real weight: a state consistent with its values will be trusted, and conversely, a state that betrays them pays a real price in reputation.

Currently, for example, the US can conduct military operations against Iran that violate values and norms, but there is a price to pay: NATO alliances weaken, domestic support for the Trump government also weakens, and America’s international reputation suffers.

Therefore, Indonesia can choose a statecraft that navigates a realist world with steadfastness to principles and values of humanity. Amid uncertainty, a state that holds to principles possesses something rare: reliability.

A state consistent with its values need not be reactive to every geopolitical dynamic, let alone be swept up in its currents—and precisely because of this, it has greater weight and credibility in the international arena.

Genuine commitment to human rights externally also demands consistency internally. We cannot defend Palestine on the international stage while ignoring human rights conditions in Papua, impunity in the Kanjuruhan case, or the arrest of thousands of young people following the August 2025 demonstrations. Steadfastness to principles is not merely an instrument of statecraft; it can become a mirror that continually holds us accountable to improve ourselves.

And this is certainly not naive idealism. Our own history proves it from both directions.

The Bandung Principles of 1955 was a moment when Indonesia led the world not because of military or economic power, but because of the moral courage to formulate a world order based on principles of mutual respect, non-interference, and peaceful coexistence. That moral leadership gave Indonesia influence far beyond what its material capabilities suggested. The principles that guided us then still have resonance today, and they offer a blueprint for how a statecraft grounded in values can be both principled and strategically effective in a competitive world.