The danger of great power conflict in the Indo-Pacific is assumed to focus on Taiwan or the South China Sea. From there, any conflict’s logistical ripple effects would reach across the region – including through Indonesian waters.
That geography gives Indonesia a role it cannot avoid. The Malacca, Sunda and Lombok Straits, together with the three archipelagic sea lanes established by Indonesia under the UN Convention of the Law of the Sea and approved by the International Maritime Organisation, form a vital connection between the Indian and Pacific Oceans. Warships depend on them for access and manoeuvre.
In wartime, belligerents would expect those routes to stay open, consistent with international law. History shows how leapfrogging or islands-hopping strategy determined the outcomes not only of battles in the Indo-Pacific theatre but of the Second World War itself. For Jakarta, the challenge is how to keep its waters safe and open while maintaining its neutrality when it chooses to do so.
This tension is already visible. The news that Indonesia’s state-owned shipbuilder PT PAL will provide maintenance, repair and overhaul (MRO) services for US Navy vessels has triggered debate about whether such cooperation could compromise Indonesia’s neutrality. Critics warn that it could.
But international law offers a more nuanced and balanced reading, hence preventing any simple or straightforward determination. Factually speaking, partnering with the US Navy for MRO work is no small feat, as it would require rigorous legal and security arrangements.
Such legal and political realities nevertheless provides an opportunity for Indonesia to clarify, contribute, and influence the law on neutrality as Indonesia sees fit, including how it understands the issue regarding MRO services for belligerent warships or vessels. After all, the law of neutrality is an evolving field of law that demands constant refinement.
When powerful fleets operate nearby, a neutral with limited control risks being ignored.
Under the 1907 Hague Convention XIII, a neutral state may allow belligerent warships to enter its ports for limited repairs if those repairs are “absolutely necessary” to restore seaworthiness and do not enhance combat capability. Crucially, the neutral authority – not the visiting navy – decides what counts as essential. Repairs must be closely supervised and finished without delay.
In practical terms, this means Indonesia could still provide certain repair services even in a great-power conflict – provided the work relates to safety or navigation, is monitored under local authority, and is offered equally to both sides. This remains well within the limits of traditional neutrality.
Many states today prefer a qualified neutrality, shaped more by politics than law. In the war in Ukraine, Western countries have supplied arms and intelligence to Kyiv while insisting they are not parties to the conflict. That approach may suit alliance politics, but it sits uneasily with Indonesia’s “free and active” (bebas-aktif) foreign policy, a tradition grounded in legal caution and strategic independence.
History also suggests that neutrality can work, but only if applied consistently.
A classic case was the Admiral Graf Spee, the German pocket battleship damaged during the Battle of the River Plate in 1939. The ship sought refuge in Montevideo, Uruguay – then a neutral state. Uruguay permitted limited repairs and a short stay (72 hours) despite heavy diplomatic pressure from both Britain and Germany. The Uruguayan authorities strictly enforced neutrality rules: Graf Spee could not refit its armament or replenish ammunition. When ordered to leave, the ship’s captain scuttled it outside territorial waters rather than risk internment.
The episode remains one of the clearest 20th-century precedents showing that neutrality is viable when enforced impartially and under clear legal authority, a lesson as relevant for Indonesia today as it was for Uruguay in 1939. Cooperation is not the enemy of neutrality – discrimination is. Once a neutral state tilts to one side, it ceases to be neutral in law or perception.
Indonesia’s diplomatic tradition shows that legal clarity is as important as capability. Neutrality without credible enforcement is fragile, but neutrality without legal innovation is a lost opportunity. When powerful fleets operate nearby, a neutral with limited control risks being ignored. That is why Indonesia’s ongoing naval modernisation – new frigates, submarines, and even aircraft carriers – matters. It is not just about deterrence; it is about making neutrality credible. A state can only stay neutral if it has the power to say “no” and be taken seriously. Yet, the clarity and depth of a state’s legal stance on neutrality will help prevent misperception.
In peacetime, MRO cooperation with the United States is an industrial partnership that builds skills and strengthens the domestic defence base. But should war break out, the legal framework changes overnight. The Hague rules empower Jakarta to restrict, supervise, or suspend any repair work that threatens neutrality. In this sense, neutrality is not passivity; it is disciplined independence backed by law and capability.
For Indonesia, being credibly neutral – both in capability and in the legal propositions underpinning its neutrality – could significantly shape its relations with belligerents if war occurs. The debate over PT PAL’s MRO role should therefore trigger a deeper intellectual effort to enrich the law of neutrality from the perspective of a state aspiring to be free, active and respected in a turbulent maritime century.
