Jakarta – As Indonesia grapples with persistent challenges in its national education system, recent policy proposals and reversals have ignited a fierce debate about the direction of the country’s future. From the potential reinstatement of academic tracks in senior high schools to the controversial Sekolah Rakyat (community school) program, critics argue that short-sighted policymaking risks turning students into pawns in a game of political expediency rather than empowering them as the nation’s greatest asset.
A Cycle of Change and Uncertainty
Indonesia’s education system has long been a battleground for competing visions of progress. Over the past two decades, successive administrations have introduced reforms often criticized for prioritizing optics over substance. A landmark moment came in 2002 when the People’s Consultative Assembly (MPR) amended the Constitution to mandate that 20 percent of national and regional budgets be allocated to education. While this was hailed as a significant step forward, implementation has faltered, with substantial portions of the budget reportedly wasted on experimental systems that fail to address core issues.
One of the most visible outcomes of this inconsistency is Indonesia’s underwhelming performance on the global stage. Indonesian students have consistently ranked low in the Programme for International Student Assessment (PISA), a benchmark for educational attainment worldwide. Additionally, Indonesian universities struggle to compete in global rankings, and the nation has yet to produce a Nobel Prize winner in science—a stark contrast to regional neighbors like India and Pakistan.
Critics argue that the root of these challenges lies in a lack of continuity. Policies are often tied to the political agendas of incoming administrations, leading to a cycle of “new government, new policy” that disrupts long-term planning. This pattern is once again evident in the latest proposals from the Elementary and Secondary Education Ministry under Minister Abdul Mu’ti, which threaten to undo reforms introduced just a few years ago.
Reinstating Academic Tracks: Progress or Regression?
At the heart of the current debate is a plan to reinstate the traditional academic pathways of science, social studies, and language in senior high schools. This move would dismantle the Merdeka (Freedom) Curriculum, introduced in 2021 by former Education Minister Nadiem Makarim. The Merdeka Curriculum sought to break down the perceived hierarchy among academic tracks, which were widely criticized as outdated and discriminatory, by allowing students to choose subjects based on their interests and career goals.
Despite its imperfections, the Merdeka Curriculum has been praised for fostering flexibility and reducing stigma among students. Its rollout, however, was met with resistance from some traditionalist groups, including major Muslim organizations like Nahdlatul Ulama (NU) and Muhammadiyah, to which Minister Mu’ti belongs. Nadiem, a tech-savvy entrepreneur representing a younger generation, was often seen as at odds with these groups, highlighting deeper cultural and political tensions within Indonesia’s education landscape.
Minister Mu’ti has argued that reviving the academic tracks would better prepare students for a forthcoming academic ability test, another policy shift aimed at replacing Nadiem’s national assessment framework. However, educators and analysts warn that such a reversal, coming just a few years after the Merdeka Curriculum’s introduction, could create confusion and undermine students’ ability to adapt. “Constant changes leave students and teachers in a state of limbo” said education advocate Sari Widjaja, emphasizing the need for stability over experimentation.
Sekolah Rakyat: A Solution or a New Problem?
Adding to the policy turbulence is President Prabowo Subianto’s Sekolah Rakyat program, a boarding school initiative designed to provide quality education to children from low-income families. With nearly three-quarters of breadwinners below the poverty line having only an elementary education, according to Statistics Indonesia, and over 730,000 elementary graduates unable to pursue secondary education due to financial constraints, as reported by the Elementary and Secondary Education Ministry in January 2025, the program aims to address a critical gap.
Set to launch in July with the new academic year, the first phase will target senior high school students, with student admissions already underway and teacher recruitment beginning this month. When fully implemented, the program will extend to children of all school ages. Yet, while the initiative’s intent appears noble, it has sparked significant controversy.
Critics argue that Sekolah Rakyat risks deepening social segregation by creating a separate educational track for impoverished students, potentially stigmatizing participants and harming their self-confidence. “Labeling schools as ‘community schools’ for the poor could reinforce class divides rather than bridge them” said child welfare expert Dr. Budi Hartono. Others question the program’s administration, noting that the Social Affairs Ministry—rather than the Education Ministry—has been tasked with overseeing it. This unusual arrangement has raised eyebrows, particularly as the current Social Affairs Minister, Saifullah Yusuf, hails from NU, the largest Muslim organization in Indonesia and a key supporter of Prabowo’s presidential campaign.
Further scrutiny surrounds NU’s broader influence in education. According to 2022 data from the Religious Affairs Ministry, approximately 13,500 Islamic boarding schools nationwide are affiliated with NU, which has promoted Islam Nusantara (Islam of the Archipelago) as a moderate counter to radical ideologies. Some analysts suggest that entrusting the Sekolah Rakyat program to the Social Affairs Ministry may reflect political alignments more than educational priorities, potentially sidelining the expertise of the Education Ministry.
Whose Voices Are Heard?
Beyond specific policies, a broader concern is the extent to which students and teachers—the primary stakeholders in education—are consulted in these sweeping changes. Many argue that reforms often reflect top-down decisions driven by political or ideological motives rather than the needs of those on the ground. “Students are not guinea pigs for populist programs” said a Jakarta-based high school teacher, who requested anonymity due to fear of professional repercussions. “Their future deserves thoughtful, consistent planning.”
This sentiment is echoed by parents and community leaders, who worry that frequent policy shifts disrupt learning environments and place additional burdens on families already struggling with economic challenges. For instance, the transition to and from the Merdeka Curriculum has required schools to overhaul teaching materials and training programs, often at significant cost—costs that are sometimes passed on to parents through unofficial fees.
The Bigger Picture: Education as a National Priority
Indonesia’s education system is not merely a domestic concern; it is a critical factor in the nation’s ability to compete in a globalized economy. With a young, rapidly growing population, the country has the potential to harness a demographic dividend, but only if its youth are equipped with the skills and knowledge to thrive. Persistent underperformance in international assessments like PISA signals systemic issues that cannot be resolved through piecemeal reforms or politically motivated initiatives.
Moreover, the intersection of education and social equity remains a pressing challenge. Programs like Sekolah Rakyat, while well-intentioned, must be carefully designed to avoid unintended consequences such as stigmatization or the entrenchment of inequality. At the same time, reversing progressive reforms like the Merdeka Curriculum without clear evidence of their failure risks alienating a generation of students who were beginning to benefit from greater academic freedom.
Looking Ahead: A Call for Stability
As Indonesia navigates these turbulent waters, the voices of students, teachers, and communities must take center stage. Education policy cannot afford to be a revolving door of competing agendas; it demands a long-term vision grounded in evidence and inclusivity. Whether the reinstatement of academic tracks or the rollout of Sekolah Rakyat will deliver on their promises remains to be seen, but one thing is clear: the future of Indonesia’s youth hangs in the balance.
For now, as reforms and reversals unfold, educators and families alike are left with more questions than answers. How will these changes shape the next generation, and can Indonesia finally break free from the cycle of short-sighted policymaking? Only time will tell, but the stakes could not be higher.