The Satellite Corruption Scandal

REAR Admiral (Ret.) Leonardi is trying to disprove the charge that he was the mastermind behind the Defense Ministry’s satellite corruption case. At the Jakarta Second High Military Court, he claimed that the chain of responsibility extended all the way up to the then Defense Minister, Ryamizard Ryacudu, and President Joko Widodo.

Leonardi is seeking to position himself as the executor, not the mastermind. This argument is common in corruption cases involving the bureaucracy and major state projects. When the project is underway, it is claimed that decisions are taken collectively, but when it runs into problems, the number of people responsible decreases and extends no higher than a certain level. Some suddenly claim ignorance, others insist they were only following orders, and there are also those who say it is merely an administrative matter.

Leonardi also highlighted technical reasons. The old satellite has reportedly left its orbital position, requiring the state to quickly seek a replacement. The procurement process, he explained, involved many people: from budget users and officials responsible for agreements to the committee responsible for accepting the completed project. He even admitted not knowing about documents from his colleagues. Again, this is nothing new: many are involved at the start of a project, but there are only a few once legal problems arise.

The Attorney General’s Office has a different version. Losses to the state are claimed to exceed Rp306 billion (US$18 million), based on an international arbitration ruling. Lenonardi, who signed the contract for the procurement of the satellite in 2016, refutes this, claiming that state funds have not been spent. But there are problems with this excuse. Losses to the state are not always in the form of disappearing cash. Unfavorable legal rulings, bad contracts, payment obligations and missed economic benefits are also tangible losses.

It is true that there was an element of urgency. The orbital slot at 123 degrees East longitude was contested. If Indonesia had acted too slowly, it could have been taken over by another party. Therefore, it is understandable that the president asked for swift action in the national interest. But speed is not a reason to abandon common sense or good governance.

In fact, it is emergencies that test the quality of decision-making. Is the state able to act quickly and carefully? Or, conversely, is panic used to justify buying an expensive solution that is not suitable? In too many cases, the word “emergency” is used to open the back door to decisions that should be closely scrutinized.

The satellite business is both strategic and costly. It demands technological, economic, and long-term calculations. If it is true that the satellite chosen is based on old and suboptimal technology, the problem is not simply one of corruption. It is also a matter of poor quality public policy. It is as if the state bought an obsolete vehicle for the needs of the future.

Therefore, the important questions are not limited to who benefited financially or who signed the document. More importantly: how could a decision of this scale be approved? Who assessed the suitability of the technology? Who examined the price and risks? Why did the oversight mechanism not work?

Leonardi’s request for all parties involved to be questioned can be considered as a strategy to spread the blame. This is a reasonable defense for a suspect. But behind this are factors that it is difficult to deny: strategic national decisions almost never come from one person alone. If the process is collective, the responsibility must not be selective.

The Defense Ministry’s satellite case should serve as a reflection of a long-standing problem in state governance: major decisions are often made hastily, shielded by the rhetoric of national interest, and followed by minimal accountability when they fail. As long as this pattern persists, scandals will continue to recur in the future—only the project names and the defendants will change.