JAKARTA — The most telling moment at this week's conference marking the tenth anniversary of the South China Sea arbitration award was not a statement made, but a seat left empty. Every Indonesian government official scheduled to appear at the event, held in the capital itself, withdrew before it began on July 13.
Organizers from FACTS Asia, a Philippines-based research group, along with Indonesian think tanks and academics, had secured commitments from senior officials, including a director general from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and officers from the Indonesian National Armed Forces. Several had agreed to deliver keynote addresses or join panel discussions. But shortly before the conference opened, organizers were told that approval for their participation had been rescinded. The event proceeded without a single representative from the Indonesian government.
On one level, cancellations happen. Schedules shift. Priorities change. But this was different. According to Arie Afriansyah, one of the organizers, the conference had been prepared over many months and initially enjoyed support from several Indonesian ministries and state institutions. Government officials had confirmed their attendance before organizers were informed that the support had been withdrawn. Researcher Ristian Atriandi Supriyanto similarly noted that every government speaker who had accepted the invitation ultimately canceled.
A Landmark Ruling, a Telling Silence
The conference marked the tenth anniversary of the Permanent Court of Arbitration's landmark ruling of July 12, 2016. The tribunal concluded that China's sweeping nine-dash line claim had no legal basis under the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS). It also found that China had violated the Philippines' sovereign rights within its Exclusive Economic Zone and that many maritime features claimed by Beijing did not generate extensive maritime entitlements under international law.
China rejected the ruling immediately and continues to reject it today. Yet the award has become one of the most influential legal decisions governing maritime rights worldwide. On the tenth anniversary, fourteen countries issued a joint statement reaffirming that the ruling remains legally binding between China and the Philippines and rejecting maritime claims that lack a basis under UNCLOS. The European Union separately described the decision as a landmark contribution to the peaceful settlement of disputes. Beijing dismissed those statements, maintaining that the award remains null and void.
Indonesia has never been a claimant in the sovereignty disputes over the Spratly or Paracel Islands. That fact is often cited to justify caution whenever the South China Sea is discussed. But Indonesia has never been a disinterested observer either. China's expansive maritime claims overlap with Indonesia's Exclusive Economic Zone around the Natuna Islands. For years, Indonesian governments have consistently rejected any legal basis for China's claim to historic rights in those waters.
Immediately after the tribunal issued its decision in July 2016, then Foreign Minister Retno Marsudi reaffirmed the importance of respecting UNCLOS and resolving disputes peacefully. Indonesia's position became even clearer in 2020, when Jakarta submitted a diplomatic note to the United Nations explicitly invoking the arbitral award to reject China's historical rights claims as inconsistent with international law. In other words, Indonesia has already relied upon the tribunal's reasoning to defend its own maritime interests.
Empty Chairs, Real Consequences
The past decade has only reinforced the relevance of the arbitration award. China's rejection of the ruling has been accompanied by increasingly assertive grey zone operations throughout the South China Sea. Philippine resupply missions to Second Thomas Shoal have repeatedly faced water cannon attacks, dangerous maneuvers, military-grade lasers and deliberate collisions involving Chinese coast guard vessels. Vietnam continues to experience persistent maritime pressure. Indonesia itself has not escaped. Between 2017 and 2021, Chinese coast guard vessels and the survey ship Haiyang Dizhi Shihao repeatedly entered Indonesia's Exclusive Economic Zone near the North Natuna Sea, disrupting Indonesian offshore energy exploration around the Tuna Block.
These incidents demonstrate that the legal questions addressed by the tribunal remain far from theoretical. They continue to shape the region's security environment today. The government's absence is particularly striking when viewed alongside an opinion article published only weeks earlier by the state news agency Antara. That article argued that Indonesia should not host a conference commemorating the arbitration award because doing so could undermine Indonesia's free and active foreign policy or create the perception that Jakarta was siding with one party in the dispute. It urged Indonesia to focus instead on dialogue, neutrality and regional stability.
Those concerns deserve consideration. Indonesia's diplomatic credibility has long rested on its ability to maintain constructive relations with all major powers while avoiding unnecessary confrontation. Yet there is an important distinction between geopolitical neutrality and legal consistency. Participating in an academic conference discussing the arbitration award would not have required Indonesia to endorse the foreign policy of the Philippines, criticize China or abandon its careful balancing act. It would simply have acknowledged a legal document that Jakarta itself has already used to defend its own maritime rights.
The empty chairs at this week's conference send a message, whether intended or not. They suggest that even discussing a ruling that supports Indonesia's own position has become politically sensitive. For a country that has long prided itself on its independent foreign policy, that silence is itself a statement. As the region watches China's maritime assertiveness grow, Indonesia's decision to step back from a conversation about the very legal framework that protects its waters raises questions about where Jakarta's red lines truly lie.
