How amnesia is turning Asia’s tyrants into heroes

By Karishma Vaswani

Indonesia’s decision to honor former dictator Suharto as a hero is a stark reminder that authoritarianism’s appeal endures in Southeast Asia. Enabled in part by a younger generation that may not fully grasp the dangers of autocratic rule, this collective amnesia threatens hard-won democratic gains.

Indonesian President Prabowo Subianto — Suharto’s former son-in-law — posthumously awarded him the title of National Hero, the country’s highest civilian honor on Nov. 10. It’s a recognition typically reserved for citizens who have made extraordinary contributions to the nation. Previous presidents, including Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono and Joko Widodo, had considered the move but ultimately declined.

This willingness to whitewash history is reflective of a broader trend across the region.

The announcement provoked outrage from human rights groups, but perhaps more striking was the relatively muted public response. In a country famous for street protests, there were no mass demonstrations. This is a sharp contrast to the student-led uprising that brought down Suharto’s regime (known as Orde Baru or New Order) in 1998, and the more recent Gen Z protests over a slowing economy and perks for politicians.

The dictator presided over more than three decades of military-backed rule, an era marked by rapid economic growth but also corruption, cronyism, and human rights abuses. His government, backed by a brutal army, controlled the press and jailed or disappeared political opponents.

His rehabilitation today is remarkable. “This is part of how we honor our predecessors — especially our leaders who, despite everything, made extraordinary contributions to the nation,” said State Secretary Prasetyo Hadi.

Indonesia has form when it comes to rewriting history. I grew up in Jakarta during the years of the dictatorship, and by then the historical sanitization was fully entrenched. Suharto’s regime glossed over the 1965-66 anti-communist massacres, framing them as killings committed by ordinary civilians, rather than the army. Restive provinces like Papua and Aceh were depicted as rebellious, rather than victims of military suppression.

In that dominant narrative, Suharto was not dictator, but Bapak Pembangunan, the father of development. To be fair, he did bring about strong economic growth. But that was built on shaky foundations, corroded by nepotism and profiteering. By 1998, the Asian Financial Crisis exposed the fragility of the system, and his power collapsed, plunging the country into economic and political turmoil.

The ensuing chaos is one of the reasons many Indonesians view the Suharto era as a time of stability, despite its many problems. Citizens of all ages remember his era fondly, note the authors of a 2024 study on authoritarian nostalgia. They may also be less likely to support democratic institutions.

Prabowo has tapped into that sentiment. A former special-forces commander accused of human rights abuses (allegations he denies), he recast himself during his presidential campaign as a cute and cuddly grandfather, an image that resonated with younger voters born after the dictatorship ended. Since taking office, Prabowo has shown flashes of the New Order style: Centralizing power, sidelining critics and expanding the military’s role in public life.

There are more worrying signs. Earlier this year, the government said it would issue new textbooks to promote national pride. But that was postponed after backlash from historians who warned the books would likely omit key events, including those tied to Prabowo’s past, and downplay mass killings.

The phenomenon of authoritarian nostalgia isn’t isolated to Indonesia. In the Philippines, the dictatorship of Ferdinand Marcos Sr. has been whitewashed through a widespread campaign of social-media disinformation, paving the way for his son’s return to power in 2022. A population too young to remember martial law has helped sustain the myth that those years were a golden age of peace and prosperity. Thailand’s recurring coups and Cambodia’s dynastic rule are sold as stability, not stagnation.

I’ve written before about how China’s model of smart authoritarianism is offering proof that economic growth and innovation without political freedom is possible. This has emboldened leaders in the Global South and further afield who see democracy as inconvenient.

Civil society must push back before further ground is ceded. Teaching the darker chapters of history in schools and universities is essential. When young citizens don’t know what dictatorship looks like, they become more vulnerable to its return.

The risks of this nostalgia goes beyond politics. Authoritarian systems often go hand in hand with a lack of transparency. Suharto’s Indonesia should serve as a warning sign of how perceived stability can crumble overnight. Investors and policymakers alike should note that weak institutions and selective memory make for a volatile mix.

Indonesia’s decision to celebrate Suharto is being sold as an attempt to reconcile with history. It’s not. It’s a reminder that when nations forget their authoritarian pasts, they risk inviting them back.

Disclaimer: The views expressed above are the author's own. They do not necessarily reflect the views of DH.