Jakarta’s revised TNI law illustrates the danger of the “MOOTW” doctrine – a worrying concept that is not unique to Indonesia.
MOOTW’s duality – legitimizing peace abroad while embedding power at home – explains its utility and its danger. What appears as competence can become a cover for consolidation.
The Politics of Professionalism
MOOTW is so politically attractive because it masks power as professionalism. It offers a narrative in which militaries appear not as political actors but as reliable public servants – disciplined, efficient, and above the fray of partisan squabbles. Governments can deploy the military in peacetime without invoking a state of emergency, and citizens can welcome military involvement without acknowledging its long-term institutional implications. Soldiers laying asphalt or delivering aid seem to embody a national ethos of duty and order. Especially in countries where civilian institutions are seen as corrupt, fragmented, or incapable, military actors enjoy a comparative advantage in legitimacy, if not legality.
But this image of competence is often constructed and strategically deployed. What appears apolitical is often deeply political. As Muhamad Haripin demonstrated in the Indonesian context, MOOTW has not depoliticized the armed forces; it has reauthorized their presence through legal and bureaucratic means. The military’s territorial command system – established under Suharto’s authoritarian rule – allows the military to project influence at every administrative level; it did not fade with the end of Suharto’s authoritarian regime but was rebranded as essential to local resilience and rapid response. This shift has not been accompanied by equivalent investments in civilian capacity, meaning the military fills voids it has helped maintain.
Elsewhere in the region, similar patterns are emerging. In the Philippines, the armed forces’ involvement in development projects under “whole-of-nation” counterinsurgency approaches risks displacing local civilian governance. In South Korea, recent controversies over military surveillance and data-sharing with civilian ministries have raised concerns about institutional overreach. Although widely supported in Australia, the ADF’s growing role in disaster and pandemic response has prompted debate about whether such authority is appropriate for an institution with limited public accountability.
Thailand follows a similar logic. Military coups are routinely justified as acts of national correction necessary to restore stability and reset dysfunctional civilian rule. The Thai military’s framing of its repeated interventions as temporary, professional, and reluctant belies the long-standing reality of political tutelage. MOOTW-like justifications are implicit in the military’s rhetoric: the armed forces are not seizing power, they claim – they are safeguarding the state.
Even in more robust democracies, the illusion of military neutrality under MOOTW can be problematic. In the United States, the Department of Defense’s domestic deployments under Defense Support to Civil Authorities (DSCA) have increased in both frequency and scope. During natural disasters and the COVID-19 pandemic, military logistics and planning were essential. But as Jennifer Morrison and the RAND Corporation noted early on, expanding military roles in civil domains – even under conditions of consent – can weaken civilian initiative and delay reform. When the military becomes the go-to solution for everything from vaccine distribution to border surveillance, it subtly erodes incentives to build up independent, accountable civilian capacity.
