After a 6,870-nautical-mile voyage across the oceans, a nearly 14,000-ton warship has finally arrived at Jakarta’s Tanjung Priok port. The former Italian Navy light aircraft carrier ITS Giuseppe Garibaldi now sails under the Indonesian flag as KRI Sriwijaya-100. Its arrival is more than a ceremonial occasion. It is an early test of whether Indonesia can approach its new maritime capability with strategic discipline. Bringing a large aviation platform into the fleet requires not only enthusiasm but also a clear-eyed assessment of what it means for Indonesia’s evolving maritime defence architecture as geopolitical competition intensifies across the Indo-Pacific.
Built by Fincantieri at Monfalcone, the vessel has a long history as a through-deck aviation cruiser dating back to the Cold War. Powered by four General Electric LM2500 gas turbines, it can reach speeds of up to 30 knots and carries a 174-metre flight deck with a four-degree ski-jump ramp. Once operational, with its planned base at Teluk Ratai in Lampung, it will mark the first time the Indonesian Navy has operated a large-scale maritime aviation platform.
Yet behind the ship’s imposing history and specifications lies a more complicated reality. The fact that it comes as an Italian donation does not mean it comes without costs.
Parliamentary criticism of the acquisition therefore deserves serious consideration, particularly because the ship is already 41 years old. Its remaining service life is estimated at only 10 to 20 years after refurbishment. Although the donated asset is valued at €54 million, or roughly Rp1.1 trillion, the cost of modernisation is estimated at between Rp7.2 trillion and Rp7.5 trillion. That figure does not include routine operating costs, estimated at around Rp101 billion a month, or fuel consumption of roughly Rp1.8 billion a day while the vessel is at sea.
At those rates, five years of operation alone would cost about Rp6.06 trillion. Modernisation plus five years of operation would therefore amount to roughly Rp13.26 trillion before other expenses are counted. The numbers shift the debate from the price of acquisition to a more fundamental question of sustainability. Is Indonesia acquiring a capability or a maintenance burden?
From Free Ship to Strategic Capability
Comparisons with other naval purchases can be useful, but they must be handled carefully. Two used Italian FREMM frigates recently transferred to Greece were reportedly valued at less than €500 million combined, while a contract for two new Italian FREMM EVO frigates is worth around €1.5 billion. These are not directly comparable transactions: the Sriwijaya-100 figure is a projection of modernisation and operating costs, whereas the FREMM figures refer to acquisition values with different scopes.
Yet simply comparing an ageing aircraft carrier with newly built frigates risks reducing the strategic debate to accounting. From the perspective of modern naval strategy, building or buying a new aircraft carrier or helicopter platform from a foreign shipyard would require enormous resources and years of construction. Through the Sriwijaya-100, Indonesia is also buying something less tangible but potentially valuable: a doctrinal leap and a shortcut in time.
The refurbishment budget is therefore not merely about restoring steel and machinery. It can also provide Indonesia with exposure to carrier-group operations, deck-handling procedures, flight-deck management, and the foundations of a maritime aviation ecosystem that the country has never possessed at this scale. That argument is valid, but only if it is backed by a credible roadmap.
Without a transparent naval aviation curriculum, a clear technology and maintenance-transfer programme involving PT PAL, and measurable operational-readiness targets, the doctrinal leap could become a leap without a landing. The challenge is to ensure that the Sriwijaya-100 becomes a platform for institutional learning rather than an expensive endpoint in itself.
Turning an Old Carrier into a New Maritime Role
To unlock the ship’s strategic potential, Indonesia’s Defence Ministry and PT PAL are pursuing a retrofit programme adapted to tropical operating conditions. The work includes upgrades to air-conditioning systems, combat management capabilities, and defensive armament. But the most significant challenge may be the absence of Short Take-Off and Vertical Landing, or STOVL, combat aircraft such as the AV-8B Harrier II from Indonesia’s inventory.
Rather than forcing the country into an expensive procurement of carrier-based fighter jets, the ship’s role could instead be oriented toward that of a floating base for helicopters and unmanned aerial vehicles. The Garibaldi’s relatively low four-degree ski-jump, which is of limited value for modern fighter operations, could potentially support suitable unmanned aircraft configurations. But changing the ship’s operational concept does not automatically create operational capability. Its strategic value will emerge only if Indonesia can build the entire support chain around it, from command-and-control systems and flight safety to maintenance, training, and specialised personnel.
This shift could form the basis of an Integrated Floating Base Doctrine combining Military Operations Other Than War, or OMSP, with conventional Military Operations of War, or OMP. For OMSP, Indonesia’s location along the Pacific Ring of Fire gives the Sriwijaya-100 a potentially important role as a humanitarian logistics base, disaster-response command centre, and floating hospital. Transport helicopters and surveillance drones operating from its deck could help deliver assistance to communities cut off by disasters, reducing dependence on damaged or inaccessible land-based airfields.
In wartime scenarios, the floating base could become part of a wider command and support architecture designed to protect Indonesia’s strategic maritime chokepoints, including the Malacca Strait, Sunda Strait, and ALKI I. Long-range surveillance drones combined with anti-submarine warfare helicopters could also strengthen deterrence in contested waters such as the North Natuna Sea.
The Real Test Is the Fleet Around It
The geopolitical implications of operating such a vessel should not be underestimated. Indonesia would join a relatively small group of Southeast Asian countries capable of operating a large flight-deck vessel, giving Jakarta another instrument of defence diplomacy within ASEAN. At a time of intensifying great-power rivalry and overlapping claims in the South China Sea, deploying the Sriwijaya-100 could strengthen Indonesia’s ability to demonstrate maritime presence and protect its sovereign rights in its exclusive economic zone.
But geopolitical influence does not come from displacement or deck length alone. It depends on operational readiness, sustainable funding, and the ability to integrate the ship into a broader naval force. A high-value vessel such as the Sriwijaya-100 cannot be treated as a standalone platform in high-intensity operations. It would require a task group supported by surface combatants, submarines, air-defence assets, and replenishment vessels. Without adequate escorts, the ship could become highly vulnerable, particularly to undersea threats and anti-ship missiles.
Indonesia’s domestic shipbuilding industry, especially PT PAL, must also be ready for the long maintenance cycle that comes with such a platform. Adequate floating-dock capacity will be essential for routine maintenance and major overhauls. But the most difficult requirement may be less visible: manpower. A ship can be acquired relatively quickly. Naval aviation cannot.
Training landing signal officers, flight-deck crews, air-traffic controllers, technicians, and pilots capable of conducting safe drone take-offs and landings at night and in rough seas requires a specialised curriculum, thousands of training hours, certification, and years of operational experience. The most expensive part of the Sriwijaya-100 may therefore not be its steel or engines, but the time required to build the people and institutions that can make the platform genuinely operational.
Ultimately, the arrival of the KRI Sriwijaya-100 should not close the debate. It should begin one. Indonesians will not judge the ship merely by how imposing it looks alongside the pier at Tanjung Priok. They will judge it by whether the government can turn an asset that is free at the point of acquisition but expensive to operate into a durable investment in Indonesia’s maritime capabilities.
If the ship ends up serving primarily as a floating monument for ceremonial parades, Indonesia will have demonstrated an old truth of naval procurement: there is nothing more expensive than a free ship. But if the Sriwijaya-100 helps create a genuine maritime aviation ecosystem, a credible deterrence doctrine, and a stronger domestic shipbuilding industry, its strategic value could far exceed the vessel itself. In that case, the 6,870 nautical miles of its final voyage to Indonesia will not mark the end of the journey. They will be the first miles on a longer route toward becoming the maritime power Indonesia has long aspired to be.
The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author alone and do not represent those of Geopoliticalmonitor.com