For more than a decade, China’s relationship with Indonesia has been defined by railways, industrial parks, nickel processing plants and large-scale infrastructure.
Now, China is beginning to associate itself with something far more politically sensitive: President Prabowo Subianto’s flagship Free Nutritious Meals program, known locally as Makan Bergizi Gratis (MBG).
In April, Counselor Zhen Wangda of the Chinese Embassy attended the inauguration of a nutrition service center (SPPG) project jointly supported by the embassy and the mass Muhammadiyah movement in Southeast Sulawesi.
During the same visit, Zhen met local officials in South Sulawesi and promoted broader opportunities for China-Indonesia cooperation. The embassy presented the initiative as a contribution to social welfare and people-to-people ties.
On the surface, such cooperation appears harmless. Feeding children is difficult to oppose politically. Indonesia faces persistent nutritional challenges, and China has expertise in poverty alleviation, food logistics and public service delivery.
Yet Beijing would be wise to proceed with caution. MBG is no longer merely a social program. It has become one of the most politically controversial and institutionally vulnerable projects in Indonesia.
Last week, Indonesian authorities arrested Dadan Hindayana, the former head of the National Nutrition Agency, along with two former deputies, over allegations of corruption in the management of the MBG program.
Prosecutors allege that officials manipulated the selection of foundations managing meal distribution centers and steered contracts toward organizations linked to agency insiders. Investigators are also examining allegations of procurement markups and conflicts of interest.
Particularly troubling are allegations involving SPPG partners—the very delivery mechanism through which meals reach schools and communities. Prosecutors have stated that foundations connected to agency officials were allegedly allowed to participate despite failing to meet requirements, raising questions about governance throughout the system.
The scandal strikes at the heart of Prabowo’s signature policy at a time of rising economic vulnerability, witnessed in a falling currency and stock market.
For Beijing, the controversy has created a dilemma. China understandably wants to cultivate goodwill among ordinary Indonesians. Supporting school nutrition projects, particularly through respected organizations such as Muhammadiyah, may have appeared to be an effective way to demonstrate that Chinese engagement extends beyond mines and industrial zones.
But there is a difference between supporting Indonesian development and becoming associated with a politically toxic state program. The danger is not that China will be accused of corruption. There is no evidence suggesting any Chinese involvement in the alleged wrongdoing.
Instead, the danger is reputational contagion. Once foreign governments become publicly linked to domestic flagship programs, they inevitably share some of the political risks. If the program succeeds, they may receive credit. If it fails, they may receive blame—even when they had no operational role.
This is a lesson China has learned elsewhere. Infrastructure projects that were initially portrayed as symbols of friendship have occasionally become targets of public frustration when local governance problems emerged. The same dynamic could apply to MBG.
The risks extend beyond corruption allegations. The program has already faced criticism over implementation problems, food quality concerns and cases of food poisoning. Critics argue that the nationwide rollout has moved faster than the government’s administrative capacity. Even supporters acknowledge that governance and oversight mechanisms remain under strain.
That matters because China’s interests in Indonesia are long-term. Beijing gains little from tying its image to the fortunes of a single political initiative or administration. Prabowo’s presidency will eventually end. China-Indonesia relations will carry on.
A wiser approach would be for China to focus on institution-building rather than program-branding.
Instead of associating itself directly with MBG, Beijing could support nutrition research, agricultural productivity, food safety systems, supply-chain modernization and public health capacity. These are areas where Chinese expertise could generate tangible benefits while avoiding entanglement in Indonesia’s domestic political battles.
China should also insist on transparency in any future cooperation. Projects should be structured through credible civil society organizations, local governments and independently audited institutions rather than through politically connected intermediaries.
Indonesia remains one of China’s most important partners in Southeast Asia. The relationship is too valuable to be jeopardized by a program currently engulfed in governance controversies.
The corruption allegations against Dadan Hindayana and other former officials will ultimately be proven or disproven in court. But the broader lesson is already clear. The MBG scandal demonstrates how quickly ambitious social programs can become vehicles for patronage when oversight is weak.
For China, the prudent course is not to retreat from cooperation with Indonesia. It is to distinguish between supporting Indonesia’s development and becoming invested in the political fortunes of Prabowo’s most ambitious—and increasingly controversial—policy experiment.
Muhammad Zulfikar Rakhmat is director of the China-Indonesia Desk at the Jakarta-based Center of Economic and Law Studies (CELIOS) independent research institute. Yeta Purnama is a researcher at CELIOS.
