A gift arrives in Jakarta
A former Italian warship slid into harbour on Friday morning. It arrived at the naval base in North Jakarta’s Tanjung Priok port just after sunrise on 18 September. The ship is the ITS Giuseppe Garibaldi. It is 41 years old. A full military ceremony, complete with brass bands and naval honour guards, marked its arrival on the pier. This is Indonesia’s first ever aircraft carrier. A gift from Rome.
The government of Indonesia has been clear about its purpose. A spokesman insisted the vessel will strengthen maritime security and, crucially, provide disaster response capabilities. This is an archipelago. It has more than seventeen thousand islands. A ship that can deploy helicopters quickly seems a sensible asset for humanitarian aid in a region routinely battered by earthquakes, volcanoes and tsunamis. The official story is one of benevolence, a floating platform from which to coordinate relief operations that will save lives across a vast and vulnerable nation state.
An aircraft carrier is not a hospital ship. It is a sovereign territory of steel, a floating airbase designed to project military force far beyond a country's own coastline. The Garibaldi is built for more than just aid delivery helicopters. Its deck is configured for short takeoff and vertical landing jets, the tools of air combat and maritime strike. That capability has already ignited a fierce debate among defence analysts across the Indo Pacific and opposition politicians in Jakarta. They question the true purpose. They question the true cost. They see a strategic calculation, not a humanitarian impulse.
This is the central problem for Jakarta. A weapon system is defined by its maximum capability, not its declared peacetime mission. Nobody uses a tank to deliver groceries. It is a weapon. An aircraft carrier, even a donated one with four decades of service already logged in the Mediterranean, sends a message that cannot be mistaken for a simple offer of help. It is a statement of military ambition. The arrival of this single, ageing hull in Tanjung Priok harbour represents a significant gamble, committing Indonesia to a strategic path from which there is no easy or cheap return.
The true cost of an old ship
The ship is old. It is forty one years old, a veteran of Cold War patrols with the Italian navy. This is not a new asset. A warship of this age is a demanding and expensive machine, a floating collection of systems that are already obsolete or perilously close to it. The word 'gift' obscures the reality. The real price is not the initial transfer but the colossal, unending cost of simply keeping the former ITS Giuseppe Garibaldi afloat and functioning in the warm, corrosive waters of the Java Sea. The bill for its maintenance alone will be staggering, a constant struggle against metal fatigue and the challenge of sourcing spare parts for components designed in the last century. Jakarta has not received a gift. It has inherited a liability.
The operational economics are punishing. An aircraft carrier requires a vast crew, specialist technicians, and a continuous supply chain that will stretch Indonesia’s naval logistics to their absolute limit. The fuel budget will be immense. The cost of training sailors and pilots to operate from its deck, a notoriously difficult and dangerous skill to master, will consume funds that could have bought entire squadrons of patrol boats or modernised coastal radar systems. This single hull, now moored in North Jakarta’s Tanjung Priok port, demands a support infrastructure on land that Indonesia may not possess, requiring new investments in everything from deep water piers to specialised cranes. It is a financial black hole. The ship itself was free. Nothing else will be.
It is also the wrong tool for the job. The government’s claim that the carrier will primarily serve in disaster relief operations does not survive basic scrutiny. A carrier is a warship through and through. Its internal spaces are dedicated to aviation fuel, munitions magazines, and cavernous hangars designed to maintain fighter jets, not to store pallets of food, water purification kits, and medical supplies. A dedicated hospital ship would be better. An amphibious assault ship would be better. Even a civilian ferry would be a more efficient platform for delivering humanitarian aid to a stricken coastline. While the Garibaldi can operate helicopters, so can many other, cheaper vessels that do not carry the enormous financial and strategic baggage of an aircraft carrier. The stated mission is a fiction. Its design tells the true story.
Beijing will not be convinced
The government in Jakarta can insist the carrier is for humanitarian missions. Beijing will not be convinced. No nation’s military planners will be. An aircraft carrier, no matter its age or origin, is the ultimate instrument of naval power projection, a floating piece of sovereign territory capable of launching air attacks hundreds of miles from its own coast. It is a weapon system. It is not a hospital ship. Chinese strategists will analyse the vessel’s capabilities, not the press releases that accompanied its arrival at Tanjung Priok. They will see a warship capable of operating helicopters and short takeoff jets in the South China Sea. This changes things.
Indonesia’s foreign policy is built on a doctrine of non-alignment. Jakarta has long tried to balance its relationships, avoiding formal military alliances with either Washington or Beijing. This acquisition puts that careful neutrality under immense strain. The South China Sea is the arena of China’s primary strategic expansion, with its sweeping territorial claims, represented by the infamous nine-dash line, encroaching on the exclusive economic zones of its neighbours. Indonesia is one of those neighbours. Chinese coastguard vessels and fishing fleets regularly operate illegally in the waters around Indonesia’s Natuna Islands, creating friction that has, at times, become confrontational. The presence of an Indonesian aircraft carrier in these waters, however symbolic, presents a new variable for China’s navy to consider. It is a complication.
Beijing will see this not as an isolated Italian gift but as part of a wider regional pattern of resistance to its ambitions, a pattern quietly encouraged by the United States and its allies. An Indonesian carrier, potentially operating alongside American or Australian naval groups in joint exercises, represents a significant evolution in Jakarta’s strategic posture. It suggests a willingness to invest in high end military assets that have no purpose other than to contest control of the sea. The humanitarian justification will be dismissed in Beijing as a thin diplomatic cover for a substantial strategic shift. The ship is not a gesture of goodwill. It is a challenge. China will see it as such and will calibrate its own military planning accordingly.
What Italy gets from the deal
Nations rarely give away major warships. Italy is no exception. The transfer of the former *Giuseppe Garibaldi* was not an act of state charity but an exceptionally clever piece of industrial strategy, a move designed to benefit Rome far more than Jakarta. This was business. The ‘gift’ is, in reality, a key. It is a key that unlocks a market of immense value for Italy’s defence corporations, which specialise in naval construction and complex weapons systems. The initial cost to Italy, giving away a forty one year old vessel nearing the end of its useful life, is minimal compared to the potential long term financial and strategic rewards.
The real cost is always in the running. An old aircraft carrier is a maintenance vortex. It will consume vast sums of money simply to remain operational, requiring constant technical support, specialist parts, and eventual upgrades to its combat and electronics suites. Italian firms are positioned as the sole suppliers for this decades long work. They built the ship. They understand its systems. Jakarta is now tied into an ecosystem of Italian technology, a dependency that will shape its procurement decisions for a generation. The ship itself is the platform. The real, recurring profit lies in the missiles, the torpedoes, the radar systems and the engineering support needed to make it a credible weapon. Italy gave Indonesia a very expensive problem. It also sold it the only solution.
This deal extends far beyond the naval base at Tanjung Priok. It serves as a powerful advertisement. By establishing a major naval partnership with the largest country in south east Asia, the Italian defence industry gains a vital reference customer in the fastest growing arms market on the planet. Success in Indonesia provides a powerful showcase for other regional navies, from the Philippines to Vietnam, that are also seeking to modernise their fleets in the face of Chinese expansionism. It positions Italian shipbuilders and weapons manufacturers as a credible, sophisticated alternative to traditional suppliers like the United States, Russia or France. It is a foothold. A very deliberate one.
Rome also secures a new kind of strategic relevance. Providing such a significant military asset to a leading non aligned power grants Italy influence in the Indo Pacific, a region where it has historically had little. This is soft power delivered through hard steel. It allows Italy to play a role in the region’s security architecture, independent of the European Union or NATO, enhancing its own diplomatic standing. The price was a single, ageing warship. The prize is a long term commercial and strategic partnership that binds Indonesia to Italy for decades to come.
A president's expensive symbol
The ceremony at Tanjung Priok was precise. It was deliberate. For the government in Jakarta, the arrival of the former ITS Giuseppe Garibaldi represents a moment of profound national pride, the fulfilment of a long held ambition to join the exclusive club of carrier operating nations. Indonesia, a nation of seventeen thousand islands, finally has the ultimate symbol of maritime power. But outside the naval base, the mood is less certain. Opposition politicians are already sharpening their attacks, framing the vessel not as an asset but as an immense financial drain on a developing nation. The ship is now a political fact.
The political risk is immense. A free ship is never free. This one is forty one years old. The long term costs of operating such a complex and aged piece of military hardware are colossal, and they will be borne entirely by the Indonesian taxpayer for decades to come. There will be bills for specialist maintenance, for regular dry dock refits, for the enormous quantity of fuel required to power a warship built in the 1980s, and for the highly trained crew of hundreds needed just to take it to sea. These are fixed costs. They cannot be avoided. They are now a permanent feature of the national budget, diverting funds that critics argue are desperately needed for schools, hospitals and infrastructure projects across the archipelago. The government's claim that it will be used for disaster relief simply does not survive financial scrutiny.
This makes the carrier a perfect political target. It is big. It is expensive. It is foreign. For opposition parties, the ship is a gift, a tangible symbol of what they will brand as misplaced priorities and fiscal recklessness by the current administration. Every technical problem, every delayed refit and every budget overrun will become a headline, providing a constant stream of ammunition in parliamentary debates and future election campaigns. They will ask why Indonesia is spending billions on a secondhand warship from Europe when communities still lack reliable electricity or clean water. The government has handed its rivals a powerful and easily understood narrative of government waste. It is a story that tells itself.
The president has made a huge bet. This acquisition was championed at the highest levels of his administration, a signature policy intended to cement a legacy of military modernisation and national strength. Its success is now tied directly to the political fortunes of its backers. If the vessel operates smoothly and genuinely enhances Indonesia's regional standing, the gamble might pay off, silencing the critics with a potent display of naval power. But the alternative is far more likely. A ship plagued by the inevitable problems of advanced age becomes a floating monument to poor judgment. It becomes a very expensive symbol of failure.
One ship is only the beginning
This single ship is not the end of the story. It is the beginning. An aircraft carrier is not a standalone weapon system, and on its own, it has limited military value. It is merely the most visible part of a much larger, and far more expensive, naval formation. The vessel that arrived in Tanjung Priok commits Jakarta to a path of naval expansion that will take decades to complete and will consume a colossal share of the national budget for a generation. It is an immense undertaking. The commitment has already been made.
A carrier is the heart of a system. To be a credible military asset rather than just a target, it must be surrounded by a flotilla of escort vessels, including at least two destroyers to provide a shield against air and missile attack, a pair of frigates to hunt for enemy submarines, and a fleet replenishment oiler to keep the entire group supplied with fuel and stores thousands of miles from a home port. Without this protective screen, a carrier is a slow moving liability, a vulnerability waiting for an enemy to exploit. These support ships are not optional extras. They are a fundamental requirement for operating a carrier in any contested maritime space, such as the South China Sea.
Indonesia does not have these ships. Its navy is a capable force for patrolling the archipelago, but it lacks the advanced, modern destroyers and frigates needed to defend a high value asset like an aircraft carrier from a sophisticated opponent. That means they must now be acquired. The 'gift' of a 41 year old ship has effectively locked Indonesia into a multi billion pound procurement programme for an entire new fleet of warships, along with the helicopters and fighter jets to operate from the carrier's deck. This is not a choice. It is a direct and unavoidable consequence of accepting the initial vessel. The real bill has yet to arrive.
The financial cost is only one part of the challenge. This new fleet will require thousands of highly skilled sailors, technicians, pilots and engineers. It will need new training schools, new maintenance facilities, expanded port infrastructure and a complete overhaul of the navy's command structure to manage such a complex force. This cannot be bought off the shelf. It must be built from the ground up, a process that will take thirty years or more. By accepting one ship, Indonesia has charted its strategic course for the next half century. It is a profound, nation shaping decision, triggered by the arrival of an ageing warship from Italy.
Sources. Guardian World: Indonesia gets its first aircraft carrier amid debate over cost and military ambitions. Al Jazeera: Indonesia acquires first aircraft carrier amid military upgrade.
Analysis. Drafted with AI assistance from the sources listed above and reviewed by an editor before publication. Jnews links to the organisations it writes about.
