History often remembers victories and defeats. It remembers territories gained, governments formed, and wars fought. What history rarely remembers are the difficult decisions made behind closed doors, the compromises that leaders carry in silence, and the moments when preserving a community becomes more important than preserving power. This is my account of the final weeks of my presidency.
By early June 2026, https://app.warera.io/country/6813b6d546e731854c7ac829 faced a challenge familiar to every rising nation.
We were fighting larger enemies with larger economies. Every major battle required significant spending from the central government. A single Battle Order cost https://app.warera.io/country/6813b6d546e731854c7ac829 approximately 260 gold. During prolonged wars, these costs accumulated rapidly. If we continued operating under the traditional model, https://app.warera.io/country/6813b6d546e731854c7ac829would eventually find itself drained economically while our enemies continued to grow stronger. We needed a different approach.
The answer became what was later known as the National Transmigration Program.
On June 3, 2026, I signed Presidential Decree No. 01/VI/2026, establishing a framework that included Brunei, Cambodia, Laos, Bangladesh, Bahrain, Qatar, Yemen, and Armenia under https://app.warera.io/country/6813b6d546e731854c7ac829's broader strategic structure. Many people misunderstood the purpose of this program.
Its goal was never colonialism.
Its goal was never domination.
Its goal was survival.
By distributing players and development across multiple territories, https://app.warera.io/country/6813b6d546e731854c7ac829could significantly reduce operational costs. Through this system, we managed to save approximately 70 gold per battle order while simultaneously creating stronger regional defenses. More importantly, every revolt launched from these provinces would appear credible and threatening. Our enemies would no longer dismiss revolts as simple distractions. Instead of https://app.warera.io/country/6813b6d546e731854c7ac829 being economically drained by larger nations, the objective was to force our enemies into spending more resources than we did. And for a time, it worked.
But economics was only part of the plan. My larger ambition was political.
For too long, leadership responsibilities remained concentrated within a small group of individuals. https://app.warera.io/country/6813b6d546e731854c7ac829 needed regeneration. We needed future governors, ministers, diplomats, military commanders, and presidents.
I wanted new players to learn.
I wanted provinces to grow.
I wanted future leaders to emerge.
That was why I proposed transforming our proxy system into something much larger: a federal https://app.warera.io/country/6813b6d546e731854c7ac829. Under this vision, every transmigration province would have equal standing in determining Indonesia's future.
Their votes would matter.
Their voices would matter.
Their opinions would matter.
I often described it internally as giving the provinces representation comparable to https://app.warera.io/country/6813b6d546e731854c7ac829's parliament. Jakarta would no longer be the sole decision-maker. The future of https://app.warera.io/country/6813b6d546e731854c7ac829 would be shaped collectively. This was not decentralization born from weakness. It was empowerment born from trust.
Among all transmigration projects, Bahrain and Qatar received some of the largest investments from https://app.warera.io/country/6813b6d546e731854c7ac829.
Resources were allocated.
Players were transferred.
Financial assistance was provided.
When difficulties emerged, https://app.warera.io/country/6813b6d546e731854c7ac829 continued providing support. At one point, Bahrain received approximately 500 gold while Qatar received approximately 700 gold as direct assistance. The expectation was simple: these provinces would eventually become examples of successful regional leadership and proof that Indonesia's federal model could work. At the time, I genuinely believed they represented the future.
Around this same period, another proposal emerged. https://app.warera.io/user/6820d2743175aaf8ed45d9b3 and https://app.warera.io/user/69f1ecf08fac02fe66949960 suggested relocating many of https://app.warera.io/country/6813b6d546e731854c7ac829's more rebellious and difficult-to-manage players into Bahrain. The reasoning seemed practical. Indonesia's government could focus on national affairs while Bahrain became a place where those players could be mentored and guided more closely. https://app.warera.io/user/69f1ecf08fac02fe66949960 described the relationship in a way I personally found unusual.
He explained that https://app.warera.io/user/6820d2743175aaf8ed45d9b3 treated those players almost like a father guiding his children. I remember finding the description strange. But I accepted it. I saw it as another contribution to https://app.warera.io/country/6813b6d546e731854c7ac829. If someone was willing to take responsibility for retaining players, helping newer members, and preventing internal conflict, then I believed it deserved support. I genuinely thought this arrangement would strengthen https://app.warera.io/country/6813b6d546e731854c7ac829. Looking back, I was wrong.
The first warning signs appeared gradually. Communication became more difficult. Regional decisions increasingly occurred without consultation. Some actions were taken independently of the central government while expectations for Indonesian support remained unchanged.
https://app.warera.io/country/6873d0ea1758b40e712b5f4f presented one example. Originally, Brunei had been granted autonomy under a mercenary arrangement negotiated between both governments. That agreement was understood by all parties involved. Over time, however, demands expanded beyond what had originally been agreed upon. Eventually, there were discussions and actions that suggested a desire for complete separation. What surprised me most was how many developments occurred without my knowledge. At one point, voting processes regarding separation were happening while I remained unaware of them. The very federalism I had promoted was beginning to drift away from cooperation and toward fragmentation.
Another source of tension emerged around June 11. Many people blamed Indonesia's central government for decisions surrounding revolt timing. What most people did not know was that a major WarEra update had suddenly disrupted our schedules. Plans carefully prepared over several days became obsolete overnight.
Operations were delayed.
War schedules shifted.
Coordination became far more difficult.
To make matters worse, external request pressure from Ukraine former member of ICPD & https://app.warera.io/country/6813b6d546e731854c7ac829 close ally, pushed for actions that https://app.warera.io/country/6813b6d546e731854c7ac829 had not originally planned. The early revolt orders that generated so much controversy were not issued because Jakarta wanted them. They were issued because circumstances forced rapid adjustments. I was frustrated enough by the situation that I formally protested to ICPD and made it clear that https://app.warera.io/country/6813b6d546e731854c7ac829 would reconsider its participation if similar interference continued. But the damage was already done. Trust had begun to erode.
Then came June 14. The day that changed everything. https://app.warera.io/country/6813b6d546e731854c7ac829 found itself engaged in one of the largest battles of the war. In Sulawesi, we faced The Federation and a coalition of nearly twenty enemy nations. The odds were brutal. Almost ninety percent of our fighters were heavily debuffed.
Resources were stretched thin.
Every mistake could have cost us the battle.
Despite those circumstances, https://app.warera.io/country/6813b6d546e731854c7ac829 fought.
Every participant gave everything they had. The battle became one of the closest contests of my presidency. Victory was achieved by the narrowest of margins. It was not a glorious victory. It was a pyrrhic victory. The kind earned through sacrifice rather than superiority.
While Indonesia was fighting for survival in Sulawesi, Bahrain initiated military actions against Iraq. The issue was never the revolt itself. The issue was that it occurred without authorization from the Indonesian government. Without consultation. Without strategic coordination. Without notice.
Yet when resistance intensified and defeat became possible, Indonesia was expected to divert attention and resources toward helping Bahrain. At that moment, Indonesia was already fighting one of the largest battles in its history.
Our soldiers were exhausted.
Our fighters were debuffed.
Our resources were strained.
And yet the expectation remained that Jakarta would solve another crisis it had never approved. That was the moment I realized something fundamental had broken. The greatest threat facing Indonesia was no longer The Federation. It was internal division.
On the evening before my resignation, the situation deteriorated even further. Threats of separation emerged. Mutiny became a realistic possibility. Political conflict was spreading faster than any military threat.
My cabinet and I faced a choice. We could fight to keep our positions. Or we could sacrifice our positions to preserve the community. We chose the later. Many people assume leaders resign because they lose.
I did not resign because Indonesia was defeated. I resigned because I believed Indonesia was worth saving. The community we built had taken months of effort, sacrifice, and cooperation. Watching it collapse under political infighting would have been a far greater defeat than losing any battle.
I remember telling my cabinet something simple:
Better that our egos be destroyed than the Indonesian community we built together.
No title was worth that cost.
No office was worth that cost.
No presidency was worth that cost.
Looking back, I remain proud of what we accomplished we fought stronger enemies, survived impossible odds, developed future leaders, created opportunities for new players, and built one of the strongest communities in the game. But if I learned one lesson from all of this, it is that communities cannot survive on military victories alone; they require trust, communication, and inclusion. One of the most valuable pieces of feedback I received came from newer players who felt disconnected from leadership, overwhelmed by internal circles, and uncertain about where they belonged, and in hindsight, that feedback may have been more important than any military report I received, because nations survive through armies, but communities survive through people.
As I leave office, For history is rarely as simple as heroes and villains most people acted according to what they believed was best, and sometimes those beliefs aligned, sometimes they did not. What matters now is not who was right, but whether Indonesia learns from it, because wars end, governments change, and presidents retire, but communities endure. If my resignation helped preserve even a small part of the community we built together, then it was a price worth paying. Fun and community must always remain our highest priorities that is what I believed as President, and it is what I still believe today.
https://app.warera.io/user/69bd3d2884bbfcaa68f7d8ee
Former President of Indonesia