Embarking on a journey in politics as an Indonesian woman, I often get hit with the question, "Why politics? Isn't that just a waste of time?" I get where this is coming from. Politics often gets a bad rap as a dirty game, a never-ending scramble for power. I'm not blind to these accusations, and I wouldn't call myself naive. But everything I thought I knew about politics flipped upside down once I dove into it. Until this year [2020], my go-to response has always been something like, “Politics and policy are a matter of problem-solving strategy – I enjoy that kind of challenge!”
But looking back, I see that it was a child's answer. It's not wrong, but it misses the bigger picture. Why I got into politics isn't the same as why I stick around. Grant me a bit of patience to explain myself here.
In my first semester, I waltzed in armed with theories from over thirty books on political ideologies, ready to dissect political cases. Boy, was I in for a surprise! In my first week, I was thrown into understanding why certain dodgy actions are considered smart strategies in politics. It's all about playing the game to push your agenda. The mantra was clear: "If you don't play by the game, you've already lost."
Swallowing that was tough. It meant gagging my idealism and my belief that things should work a certain way. I thought learning was hard, but unlearning is a whole other level of difficult.
What I've realized is that politics is a constant battle with problems – that's both its challenge and its appeal. If we ever ran out of problems, I'd be out of a job. Funny thing is, throughout history, we've always strived for an ideal world – perfect justice, perfect peace. But we've never gotten there. So what keeps us going? It's nothing less than our hope for something better, a belief in an ideal world that's got to be out there somewhere — somewhere we've never been.
But what I've had to unlearn is truly heartbreaking. The issues plaguing our world aren't just external; they're deeply rooted in our nature, in our ego.
This summer [2020], my stomach was quenched in humiliation as I read the book Sapiens by Yuval Noah Harari for discussion material. Brilliant man. Brilliant book. To prove its brilliance, I will quote his last remarks:
“We (humans) are more powerful than ever before but have very little idea what to do with all that power (and) more irresponsible than ever. Self-made gods with only the laws of physics to keep us company, we are accountable to no one. We are consequently wreaking havoc (…) on the surrounding ecosystem, seeking little more than our own comfort and amusement, yet never finding satisfaction. Is there anything more dangerous than dissatisfied and irresponsible gods who don’t know what they want?”
That's us in a nutshell. Politics is in our DNA: we crave power, entitlement, and comfort. I'm not exempt from this. It's part of being human: being hostage to our selfishness.
Another tough lesson I've learned: we can't save ourselves from this cycle. I was naive to think we could. The real issue isn't external; it's our own selfishness, our ego. And isn't that the essence of Marx's manifesto: that this is the root of all societal problems – war, violence, poverty, rape, and greed? But even he couldn't find an antidote.
Here's how all these questions drove me back to theology. Because when logic and rationality fail us, it only makes sense to look beyond. I used to ask this question often: "If God exists, and he's all about love, why does he allow evil to exist?" But now I know why: because to eradicate evil, the first thing we have to eradicate is, frankly, us. The remedy of evil is not in us, but it is for us to be separated from our desire to live as arrogant little gods who try to build our own little kingdoms at the expense of others.
So, then, I returned to the question myself: “When is this ending?” “If I am getting into this field, where is this even going?”
If we know undoubtedly that solving a problem would create another, really, though, I thought to myself, what is the point?
But that was when I found my reason to stay. And all these words are exactly why. The fact that the brokenness of humanity is endless – so endless that life seems pointless – is the more reason to stay. Because here's the bad news: there's no escaping. If we're all convicts, none of us can give any of us parole. Only the judge can. But with bad news comes the good – and it is this: that the Grand Judge is on our side. The fact that he can compromise with the existence of evil, so against his nature, to allow these convicts to experience a glimpse of grace — that's a profound hope. That's the ultimate conviction.
We were liberated when the same Judge took the death penalty on our part and said his last words, “It is finished!” After reading a bookshelf of policy literature, this is still the finest and the most unthinkable problem-solving strategy I have ever known in my life! No other leader worthy of the throne would abandon their pride to give the ultimate freedom that we need. And you think the concept of democracy is that original? Think again.
I've discovered my purpose, and it is not to find peace for myself anymore – but to share that peace that I have received — the peace that makes no sense — to mirror what has been done; to practice his justice and his love; and to partake in the brokenness of this world and sacrifice myself so that others could be as hopeful.
I thought I came to help humanity, but he came to restore it. I thought I came to establish justice, but he unveiled to me one that is true, one that comes with pure love. I thought I came to build a legacy for humanity, but he revealed to me the story of his victory over evil and death and welcomes us to partake in it! I thought I came to pave the way to a better future, but he paved his way to the cross to make a new life that is full of joy forever and ever!
Comments