The Indonesian Inferiority Complex

United, not by nationality, but by insecurity

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What is worse than being ashamed of where you come from? And secretly wishing you had been born somewhere richer.

Through centuries of colonization and decades of globalization, which have brought both benefits and harm, Indonesians have become increasingly exposed to other cultures that are often labeled as “better” or “more advanced,” becoming increasingly detached from their own local culture. Many traditions have slowly eroded, replaced by an aspiration to become “the other.”

These other cultures become the benchmark for how we should live: Our food preferences, education systems, fashion choices, and housing designs — every aspect of our lifestyles.

All of these choices for the other are evident in how businesses actively promote them. Many brands deliberately highlight foreign — especially Western — elements to appeal to mass audiences. The fact that these products continue to sell well only reinforces the assumption that this strategy works.

Not only the products, but have you noticed that even in advertisements, the models are often not representative of the typical Indonesian population, but are mixed-race, particularly with Caucasian ancestry?

Anything associated with the English language can command a premium price. For example, “Javanese salad” might be priced higher than pecel, even though they are essentially the same dish.

Meanwhile, learning about, appreciating, and loving local culture and arts is often dismissed as outdated, old-fashioned, or lacking a “young vibe.”

This is what I have observed living in Indonesia. Looking “less Indonesian” is often seen as an upgrade.

Take food, for example.

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Have you eaten traditional Indonesian food today? Perhaps a dish cooked by your mother or an elder in your family, rich in spices and made from local ingredients. These meals often taste better, suit our palates, and are generally healthier than Western-style franchise food.

And yet, how many young Indonesians feel proud choosing these foods when hanging out with friends? Many would rather choose spaghetti, burgers, fried chicken, pizza, and other Westernized dishes that are perceived as “better” within their social circles. Eating boiled peanuts, wedang jahe, or tuna soup can make you seem old-fashioned, like an elderly person.

Even today, our aspirations are not limited to Western culture. We have also begun aspiring to other Asian cultures. We feel more “refined” eating sushi than enjoying ikan kuah kuning, a traditional Papuan dish, even though both are essentially fish. We take more pride in eating kimchi, while Indonesia has acar, a local fermented vegetable dish. The same pattern appears with foods like Hainanese chicken rice, Onigiri, and Kimbap.

This mindset goes beyond cooked meals. Indonesia has been flooded with Westernized industrial food products that are often inferior versions of the originals, yet they are marketed as symbols of modernity and urban life.

As Southeast Asians, many of us do not traditionally consume much dairy, and a significant portion of the population is lactose intolerant.

Ice cream is seen as cool, even though in Indonesia it is often little more than sugar water and vegetable oil. Cheese is consumed even when it is mostly starch and water. Butter is replaced with margarine made from palm oil. Even “pure milk,” widely promoted as superior, often contains very little actual milk and is dominated by water, sugar, and flavoring.

Then, are these truly better foods?

Indonesia is a rice-based culture, yet rice alone becomes countless dishes: lontong, ketupat, bubur, and arem-arem. We are incredibly rich in culinary variety. We have cassava, corn, and sweet potato, which can also be made into noodles and a wide variety of delicious snacks. We have a variety of legumes and colorful vegetables. The fertile land supported by a tropical climate allows them to grow abundantly.

Take education, for another example.

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Today, many private institutions with high tuition fees offer Westernized curricula. Think Cambridge or other international curricula, with English as the primary language. Parents often take greater pride in enrolling their children in these schools than in sending them to public schools or culture-based Indonesian schools.

This has become the aspiration of many middle- and upper-class parents, and private education businesses are more than happy to meet that demand. Private lessons follow the same pattern, from piano and ballet to sempoa. How many parents enroll their children in classes to learn traditional dance, batik-making, weaving, or local handicrafts? These skills are just as complex.

I am not anti–Western education. In fact, much technological progress and academic research have emerged from Western countries, and I have learned a great deal from their ideas and scholars. Their concepts have inspired me in many ways. However, learning from them does not mean idolizing them blindly. I always try to study within the Indonesian context, because what happens here is often more complex and culturally different.

Take fashion, for (again) another example.

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Indonesia is a tropical country. Colorful, patterned clothing made from breathable cotton is far more suitable for our climate. Yet today, fashion is often driven by social signaling: Brand A, Brand B, Brand C, you name it. Korean styles, Japanese styles, and various “casual” Westernized trends dominate.

Who still proudly wears *batik, [tenun,](https://www.google.com/search?q=tenun&rlz=1CAGZLV_enIE996&sourceid=chrome&ie=UTF-8) or [songket](https://www.google.com/search?q=songket&rlz=1CAGZLV_enIE996&sourceid=chrome&ie=UTF-8)* in everyday life? Who chooses modest clothing rooted in Indonesian cultural norms as an expression of identity?

The same pattern is visible in housing design.

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How many property developers proudly promote homes using Indonesian architectural concepts? Take the Javanese house (joglo), for example. Its pyramid roof and high ceilings are ideal for tropical climates, helping cool indoor spaces. Its cross-ventilation design allows wind to flow freely, which is crucial in Indonesia’s high humidity.

Yet what do developers promote instead? Scandinavian design. Japanese design. American-classic design. Even furniture styles and color palettes are overwhelmingly inspired by foreign aesthetics.

Housing complexes are named using Western terms, often with no real connection to the place itself: “Mediterranean,” “Hills,” “Riverside,” or cluster names borrowed from Western cities like California, Nevada, or Brooklyn — despite the fact that these references have little relevance to those places.

And do you know where all of this tends to emerge? In urban areas, in major cities that are perceived as modern and progressive.

Overcoming this inferiority complex requires more than telling Indonesians to be proud of their own culture. It requires a change in how we think. Tan Malaka’s idea of **materialism offers a framework for challenging this mindset. Materialism means starting from the material world: reality first, ideas second.**

Look at the product itself. What is it made of? What are its ingredients? What does it actually do? What evidence supports the claims of the products? Branding can make ordinary products seem extraordinary, while marketing creates prestige and fuels desire.

The distinction matters because ideas can create images that are detached from material reality.

Then it is time to look again at what we already have. Whatever your ethnicity, culture, or homeland, try not to be ashamed of it. If you come from a mixed background, ask your parents about the environments and cultures in which they were raised.

From there, identify the values worth carrying forward and reframe them into sources of pride: sustainability, communality, mutual care, and local pride. These are qualities many societies have already lost and now quietly envy.

This is what earns genuine respect in the eyes of the world. Not constantly aspiring to look like “the other” out of insecurity about who we are.

I do not blindly glorify my country, as there is still much that Indonesia needs to learn and fix, especially when it comes to governance. But neither do its flaws make me ashamed of being Indonesian. Indonesia is not poor in culture, wisdom, or creative heritage. There is much to be proud of.

That is why I try, whenever possible, to appreciate what our local products and traditions have to offer. When a local option exists, I choose it. And quite often, I find that it is genuinely better.

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