Dari Rebahan ke Barisan
- May 15, 2025
- 6 min read

I have to admit, it’s a beautiful image in my head; a bunch of delinquents shipped off to a military-style training ground. Heads shaved, shirts tucked in, morning drills, marching under the sun like they finally have purpose. It looks good in a photograph (and in my head), and it sounds good in a press release. And for a moment, it feels like we’re finally doing something serious about the chaos in our classrooms.
Dedi Mulyadi had the right instinct. He saw what many refuse to, that we are raising boys in a nation that no longer teaches them how to be men. Fathers are absent, schools and parents are soft and outdated, social media is louder than any voice of reason, porn is easily accessible, and yes, Mobile Legends .....
These boys are not evil (some are), but most of them are just stupid and unguided. Fools drenched in hormones and impulse, trapped in bodies that are changing faster than their minds can keep up. They lash out not just because they are wild, but because no one ever taught them how to hold the line, how to struggle with dignity, how to feel the weight of consequences, especially when their parents never made them face any. I say, bring back the belt.
Somewhere along my time on the internet, I also remember reading that Indonesia has one of the highest rates of fatherless families in the region. We already know what usually happens when one half of the family unit goes missing. So yes, even though I had no clue who the man was until recently, I give Dedi Mulyadi credit. His intention is good.
The character-building program in West Java targets boys with behavioral issues. Some are involved in brawls, others in risky habits or suspected of criminal behavior. Their solution? Ship them off to military barracks. Initially for 14 days, though now there’s talk of 28 days or even six months. These boys are still officially enrolled in school, so academic lessons apparently continue inside the camp. Their daily schedule will be filled with physical training, creative workshops, strict routines, fixed mealtimes, mandatory hygiene, and rigid obedience. It is discipline by immersion.
Participation only happens with approval from both the school and the parents.
In some cases, families have already given up on their sons. Some boys were sent because they were loud and defiant, others because they were soft. Dedi even said boys who act too “gemulai” or too sissy, too graceful, should be included too. That part sparked outrage.
I’m not here to argue the ethics, there’s an entire department for that.
I’m here to ask a few more pressing questions.
Will the Program Work?
Just look at Singapore.
National Service is not perfect, but it is consistent. It is institutional. Every boy and family know what happens when their son turns a certain age. It is not a timeout, it is a rite of passage. In Indonesia, what was proposed is a brief pause; A 14-day detour from chaos, a disciplinary vacation. But if you’ve ever spent time around boys, you already know what happens. They hold up just fine for two weeks, they play along, they show off, they bond, they feel tough around other boys. But then they go back. Back to the same classrooms, the same homes, the same phones, the same apps, and the same habits creep back in.
Discipline without continuity is just borrowed behavior. And it wears off. Fast.
Who is Training Them?
And here’s what I don’t understand, why are we only talking about the boys?
Why are we only listing the criteria for them to qualify for admission into this program? Isn’t that only half the equation? Who are the men training them? Who are these sergeants or coaches or wardens on the other side of that barracks gate? Are they educators? Licensed youth counselors? Are they qualified to mentor troubled boys? Or are they just ex-military men barking orders because that’s all they know?
This should matter.
Because what kind of masculinity are they modeling? Is it rooted in discipline, responsibility, and leadership? Or is it just about fear, control, and silence?
We keep talking about fixing the boys. But I think we also need to start scrutinizing the men who are tasked with shaping them. That only makes sense. Because if we don’t get the leadership right, we’re not raising better men, we’re just replacing one problem with another.
Plenty of men on TikTok seem to agree with Dedi’s vision. That we are facing a generation of delinquents and lost boys and honestly, I share that sentiment.
In a perfect world, a good military structure can absolutely bring out the best in a man. But this isn’t a perfect world, and Indonesia, as we all know, is far from perfect.
Still, I support programs like these in principle. These are our young and drifting boys, and I think requiring parental consent was one of the few things they got absolutely right. When done right, programs like this can offer boys the structure, challenge, and purpose they desperately need. Instead of smoking on street corners, playing Mobile Legends all day, or watching porn, they could be building resilience, gaining self-respect, learning direction, civic responsibility and real-world discipline.
The potential is there. Programs like this can produce boys who are not just more mature, but more useful, more grounded, more connected to society. If we build it right, we get young men who know how to lead, how to listen, and how to serve.
But that’s not what we have right now.
What we have is panic, a reactivity. We wait for a scandal, then toss these boys into the woods for two weeks and expect transformation. That’s not character-building, that is damage control.
Could Indonesia ever have something like National Service? Maybe. But not yet.
We are not prepared. Not logistically, not politically, not culturally. We are too fragmented. Too inconsistent, too allergic to long-term thinking. And to be blunt, our bureaucracy would turn a noble idea like this into another bloated failure filled with ugly men trying to make money off of it.
But that does not mean we stop trying. It just means we stop pretending that quick fixes are enough, that these parades and facade can work as solutions.
The masculine soul needs more.
It needs preparation.
It needs challenge.
It needs mentorship.
It needs structure that lasts.
You cannot outsource manhood to a sergeant and a stopwatch.
Boys are like fire, if you do not contain fire with structure, it will burn through everything.
Metrics for Success?
The most dreaded concept for Indonesian officials: an audit.
How do we even measure whether these programs work? What does success look like? Is it a photo of a boy standing in line with his shirt tucked in? Is it surviving 14 days without incident? Is it returning home with a slightly better posture?
Where are the metrics? The post-evaluations? The follow-up systems?
Will there be surveys from the students? From the parents? From the schools?
Will these boys be tracked over the next three, six, twelve months to see if their behavior improves, or if they relapse into the same habits? Will we know if they drop out of school? Will we know if they go back to fighting, stealing, wasting time, or worse?
And if they do relapse and supposedly, not pass the metrics, will they be sent back to camp?
Who’s paying for these programs? What’s the state budget? Is there one?
These questions need to exist, and I am surprised the media aren’t hounding the answers from the officials. Just like any program, if we don’t measure, we don’t know. And if we don’t know, we’re just guessing.
A program as transformative as this cannot survive on gut feeling and optics, it needs data. It needs reflection and honest admission of what worked and what didn’t. Otherwise, it becomes another ghost project, a symbolic gesture that disappears once the headlines fade. Perhaps, that’s the Indonesian way of doing things.
Discipline without follow-through is theatre (ring a bell?), and if this program isn’t designed to evolve based on real outcomes, then we’re not just wasting resources: we’re wasting boys.
We need continuity. We need real masculine mentorship. We need schools that stop punishing boys for being energetic and start channeling it. We need fathers back in the game, and we need to stop applauding short-term spectacle like it’s a long-term solution.
So whoever is sending their kids to these camps, good luck. I really wish they turn out better than when they go in.

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