Anyone who has spent time in Indonesia will almost certainly have been influenced, and impressed, by the wayang shadow theatre, now honoured by Unesco as a masterpiece of oral heritage. To me, it captures the mystery, complexity and inscrutability of Indonesia: a country in which the significant majority of the population (87 per cent) is Muslim, but is not a Muslim state and honours the diversity of its Hindu, Christian and Confucian communities; a country held together by founding president Sukarno’s “Pancasila” or “ five principles ”, but dangerously exposed by its diversity to the dangers of Balkanisation. I have always joked with Indonesian friends that trying to understand Indonesia is like trying to understand a wayang theatre without being sure whether you are watching the shadow figures from in front of the stage or from behind. And that is as true today as ever, as I wrestle with interpreting the presidential elections just over a week ago. The charismatic and pragmatic Joko Widodo – normally called Jokowi, and fighting for a second and final four-year term in office – is variously accused by opponents of being a bad Muslim, a closet Christian and a communist, when he clearly could not be all three. It looks like Widodo won the election. Some 82 per cent of the 192 million potential voters appear to have turned out to vote, and early exit polls say he has a 10 per cent lead over his opponent, former general Prabowo Subianto. But Prabowo is insisting he has won, and is likely to contest the results, probably claiming vote-rigging, when the final count contradicts him. All that can be said at this stage is that the massive challenge of organising a national election across such a huge and diverse country appears to have come and gone without a hitch – a momentous achievement that would feel all the more impressive if we were not at the same time watching India managing the mother of all democratic exercises , with similar patient uncertainty over results. Sitting in Jakarta a week after the elections, there is a strange and typically calm acknowledgement that the election winner might not be certain until the second half of May. But Widodo and his administration continue about their business – Widodo himself is in Beijing hobnobbing with Xi Jinping at the massive Belt and Road Forum – while three of his ministers have found time to come and speak with regional business leaders gathered for the year’s second Apec Business Advisory Council (ABAC) meeting. Jakarta itself continues to wrestle in vain with its traffic-gridlocked self, despite the recent remarkable opening of its first Mass Rapid Transit line, an airport railway, and US$340 billion worth of other massive infrastructure projects that stand as a distinctive symbol of Widodo’s four years as president. One has to believe that the completion of 10 airports, 19 ports, 17 dams, 2,650 kilometres (1,650 miles ) of arterial roads, 190,000 kilometres (118,060 miles) of village roads, and about 58,000 new irrigation facilities in farming areas must surely make a difference to Indonesia’s infamously awful transport infrastructure, but so far the benefits remain largely unseen. For a president who has shaped his presidency around a promise to improve infrastructure, there is little here that is able to give his election a lift. Also disappointingly, Widodo’s unflinching commitment to lift economic growth to at least 7 per cent remains unfulfilled. The present growth rate of between 5 and 5.5 per cent might have been seen as impressive if it had not fallen so consistently short of his promised target. Strong growth is also critically important in wrestling with Indonesia’s massive demographic challenge: half of the country’s population of more than 265 million are under the age of 30, and 100 million new jobs need to be created by 2030 to keep this young population in work. China’s belt and road: a surprise winner in Indonesian election? This frustratingly slow progress has given Prabowo and his party much ammunition, with probably-specious claims that Widodo’s government has been too sympathetic to foreign interests, allowing too many imports, and indulging in infrastructure projects that have put his government in the pocket of China and its “Belt and Road Initiative”. The much-delayed US$6 billion Bandung railway line has at this point become hostage to such claims. Widodo has also not been helped by still-strong public concern about inequality, with much spleen being targeted at the (predominantly ethnic Chinese) business elite. Ambitious land reforms launched over two years ago still appear to have borne little fruit, with respected research institutions like Brookings recently reporting that inequality in Indonesia has increased faster than in any other Southeast Asian economy since the turn of the century. Measures such as the World Economic Forum’s Inclusive Development Index show Indonesia ranking 36th out of 74 emerging economies – behind Vietnam (33rd), China (26th), Russia (19th) and Malaysia (13th). It can be of little political comfort to be ahead of the Philippines (38th) or India (62nd). Nor can there be comfort in being the world’s sixth-worst performer in terms of wealth inequality, based on property and other asset-based wealth. These disappointments in economic performance have fuelled a worrying trend that has haunted independent Indonesia for the past seven decades – strengthening Islamic pressure to acknowledge the demographic reality of 87 per cent of the population being Muslim. These are forces that Widodo and his government have fought hard to keep in check. The tolerance and pragmatism at the heart of Pancasila has been defended hard – much to the relief of foreign investors and its ethnically diverse Asean neighbours. But the overthrow two years ago of Jakarta’s Christian governor, Basuki Tjahaja Purnama (better known as Ahok), was a clear warning shot from the Muslim majority. And it was a troubling but politically pragmatic decision by Widodo to take as his vice-presidential running mate Ma’ruf Amin, former head of the country’s biggest Muslim organisation, Nahdlatul Ulama. The two seem odd bedfellows, but if they can together staunch Islamic radicalism and temper the danger of Balkanisation of a country that provides the indispensable heart of Southeast Asia, then the partnership should be welcomed. Does Indonesian politics have too much in common with the Philippines? As Colin Brown at the Griffith Asia Institute in Brisbane noted last month: “Indonesia has a great capacity to muddle through, but also great capacity to never quite achieve what it’s capable of achieving.” But Asia would be a safer and richer place if Widodo could in the coming four years do more than muddle through. David Dodwell researches and writes about global, regional and Hong Kong challenges from a Hong Kong point of view