Civil society groups have flagged, for instance, a provision that would allow active TNI personnel to hold any position in government. At the moment, the military brass is limited to serving in civilian positions at just 10 different state agencies and cabinet ministries.

Critics have also highlighted the proposed expansion of the TNI’s non-war operations, which include aiding the government in mitigating cyberattacks and stamping out illicit drug circulation, potentially entrenching a military presence in civilian life.

That these and other proposed changes have occupied recent public discourse on lawmaking – including a proposal that would allow the TNI commander to serve indefinitely by presidential decree – is a testament to the influence that the military wields a quarter of a century after Reformasi.

And yet the most insidious proposal comes in the form of a seemingly innocent request to do away with a ban on TNI personnel from participating in commercial activities, as stipulated in Article 39 of the TNI Law.

At a recent discussion to test public opinion of the planned revisions, a TNI legal specialist suggested lifting the business ban on the argument that active soldiers should not have to face criminal charges for taking on part-time commercial activities, such as helping out with a spouse’s small business or becoming a part-time online taxi driver.

At first glance, the request seemed to take advantage of a recent controversial state decision to allow religious organizations to manage mining concessions. Perhaps the military also just wants to have its slice of the pie.

But in this case, allowing the TNI to go back into business would undo 20 years’ worth of reforms that envisioned a professional, accountable and steadfast military force.

Scholars seem to largely agree that military involvement in business is unprofessional and could threaten human security.

One of the hallmarks of the 2004 law was the requirement that the TNI relinquish all military businesses to the state by 2009. Yet despite concerted efforts to investigate such entities and a presidential decree designed to speed things up, a 2010 Human Rights Watch report found no actual progress.

In 2019, an academic study not only offered proof that the Indonesian Army still operates its cooperatives businesses for profit with little regard for the steady rise of the state defense budget, researchers concluded that successive administrations had deemed it necessary to allow the military to secure its vested interests to maintain stability.

Our politicians, the study finds, have entered into a transactional dialogue with the military, leaving a cultural legacy of entrepreneurship among military leaders that has contributed to the formation of new elites and oligarchs.

For one, president-elect Prabowo Subianto is a product of this generation of new military wealth. Before him, there was president Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono. Behind Jokowi stands Luhut Pandjaitan, who played the role of military man, business associate, diplomat and politician.

However, the greater moral hazard lies in allowing the military’s shadier side to fester unchecked, whether as security for hire, influence peddlers through regional command structures or benefactors of illegal trade.

Recent years have borne witness to the drawbacks of khaki capital. Revelations of illicit online gambling rings run by “renegades” and a graft case involving TNI-run pension fund Asabri are enough indication of what could go wrong if the military runs for-profit businesses.

We must decline the TNI’s request, lest we allow thuggery to run rampant in the commercial sphere and the fear of military intervention to dictate Indonesia’s development path.

A decade of true civilian rule under Jokowi is too brief a period of control in the military-civilian struggle. With a retired army general poised to once again take the reins of the country, we will need to keep our guard up to avoid making any further unnecessary concessions.