Justice is not a spectator sport. It is also rarely found in the sanitized chambers of a military tribunal. While the mainstream press treats the trial of Indonesian soldiers for an acid attack on an activist as a "step toward accountability," they are missing the forest for the trees. This isn't a victory for the rule of law. It is a masterclass in institutional preservation.
The narrative is always the same. An activist gets targeted. Public outcry reaches a fever pitch. A few low-level triggers are identified. A trial is staged. The world breathes a sigh of relief because "the system is working."
The system is not working. It is venting steam to prevent an explosion.
The Myth of the Rogue Soldier
The "rogue element" theory is the most convenient lie in modern governance. We are led to believe that soldiers—trained in discipline, hierarchy, and the chain of command—suddenly decide, on their own whim, to acquire industrial-grade acid and hunt down a civilian.
Let's get real. In any military structure worth its salt, a private doesn't sneeze without a sergeant knowing about it. When an attack is this specific, this technical, and this political, it isn't a lapse in discipline. It is an exercise of it. By focusing solely on the individuals in the dock, the prosecution successfully shields the architecture that made the attack possible.
If you want to understand the mechanics of power, look at who isn't being charged.
The "lazy consensus" dictates that we should be happy these men are facing a judge. I argue that we should be terrified. A military trial for a crime against a civilian is a jurisdictional black hole. It keeps the proceedings "in the family." It ensures that sensitive questions about who gave the order, who provided the surveillance, and who authorized the logistics are never asked in a truly independent court.
Why Military Tribunals Are the Wrong Solution
Most people ask: "Will they be convicted?"
The better question is: "Why are they being tried by their own peers?"
When a soldier attacks a civilian, it is a civilian crime. Moving that case to a military court—even if it results in a conviction—is a win for the institution, not the victim. It reinforces the idea that the military is a separate caste, immune to the standard laws that govern the rest of society.
- Conflict of Interest: The judges, prosecutors, and defense are all on the same payroll.
- Limited Transparency: Military proceedings often cite "national security" to bury uncomfortable evidence.
- Sentencing Disparities: Military "justice" can be surprisingly lenient when the cameras turn off, or performatively harsh to satisfy a news cycle, without ever addressing the root cause.
I’ve seen this play out in dozens of jurisdictions. The institution sacrifices a few pawns to save the queen. By the time the verdict is read, the public has moved on, and the culture that incentivized the violence remains untouched.
The Acid Attack as a Strategic Choice
Why acid? It’s not just about pain. It’s about erasure.
In political intimidation, a bullet creates a martyr. A martyr is a rallying cry. Acid, however, is designed to create a living ghost. It is a psychological weapon intended to disfigure the movement by disfiguring its face. It sends a message to every other activist: We won't kill you; we will make you a permanent reminder of what happens when you cross the line.
When we treat this as a simple "assault" case, we fail to recognize the tactical nature of the crime. This was a deployment.
Dismantling the Accountability Theater
If you think a conviction ends the problem, you’re part of the problem. True accountability doesn't look like a jail cell for three corporals. It looks like a complete overhaul of the intelligence apparatus that tracks activists as "enemies of the state."
Imagine a scenario where the prosecution actually followed the money and the digital footprint. They would likely find communication logs that go far higher than a barracks room. They would find "off-budget" funding used for "special operations." But the court won't go there. It's not in the script.
The "People Also Ask" sections of the internet are filled with queries like "Is Indonesia becoming more democratic?" or "Is the military under civilian control?"
The honest, brutal answer is: Control is an illusion maintained by selective prosecution.
When the military chooses which of its own to punish, it isn't being controlled by the civilian government. It is managing its brand. It is PR with a gavel.
How to Actually Fix the System
Stop cheering for "trials" and start demanding "transparency."
- Strip Jurisdiction: Any crime committed against a civilian by a member of the armed forces must be tried in a civilian court. Period. No exceptions for "duty-related" circumstances.
- Command Responsibility: Implement laws where the immediate superior is automatically held liable for the "extra-curricular" actions of their subordinates unless they can prove they took active steps to prevent them.
- Independent Oversight: Establish a permanent, civilian-led body with the power to subpoena military records without "clearance" hurdles.
The current trial is a distraction. It's a bone thrown to the international community and human rights groups to keep them quiet for another few years. If you want to stop the next acid attack, you have to stop rewarding the institution for doing the bare minimum.
Don't look at the men in the dock. Look at the empty chairs behind them. That’s where the real defendants are sitting.
Burn the script. Demand the truth. Stop settling for theater.
