The U.S.–China Trade War and the Resilience of a Nation: Lessons from Russia for Indonesia. The escalating U.S.–China trade war has created waves of global economic uncertainty. As an open economy, Indonesia cannot fully avoid its impact: from commodity price fluctuations and supply chain disruptions to pressure on the trade balance. However, amid this turbulence, Indonesia can learn from countries that have proven resilient in the face of external economic pressures—one of them being Russia. This writing is not a political statement or position, but a personal perspective shaped by the author’s firsthand experience witnessing Russia’s condition during its economic isolation by Western countries.
Before delving deeper into Russia, let us recall that since the annexation of Crimea in 2014, Russia has been bombarded with economic sanctions from the U.S. and its allies—ranging from trade embargoes and asset freezes on oligarchs to travel bans on officials. But for Russia, this is nothing new. Their long history as a nation that has endured war, revolution, and Stalin-era Cold War embargoes has taught them one thing: survival under pressure is part of their national DNA.
In 2014–2015, shelves of French cheese and Italian wine suddenly vanished from Russian supermarkets. European luxury goods disappeared. In their place came cheese from Siberia and milk from local farms. The Russian government launched import substitution policies, replacing foreign goods with domestic products. Farmers and small businesses rose to the challenge. “Rossiysky” cheese replaced Parmesan, and vodka remained a national staple. On February 24, 2022, a day after Defender of the Fatherland Day—Russia’s day of honoring its heroes—the invasion of Ukraine began. The economic sanctions that followed were harsher than ever: Russia’s central bank was frozen, SWIFT access cut off, and global companies like McDonald’s, KFC, and IKEA left the country. The ruble initially plummeted, but Russia’s economic team responded swiftly. They pegged the ruble to gold and gas, forcing Europe to pay for gas in rubles. Russia turned the West’s sanctions into a boomerang: energy prices soared while Europe scrambled to find alternatives to Russian gas.
At the grassroots level, the Russian people faced these hardships with a characteristic attitude: “We’re used to suffering.” The older generation who lived through the Soviet era simply shrugged: “We used to queue for hours just for a piece of bread—this is nothing.” Tech-savvy youth turned to VPNs to access blocked platforms like Netflix or bought iPhones through the “grey market” in Kazakhstan. Even in isolation, creativity bloomed: local fast-food chains like “Vkusno i Tochka” replaced McDonald’s. The menu was similar, though with sauces that tasted “more Slavic.”
One thing the West overlooked: Russia is no ordinary country. It has vast natural resources—from Arctic gas to Siberian wheat—that make it difficult to truly isolate. Gazprom, the state energy giant, became both shield and weapon. Meanwhile, China and India, who did not join in on the sanctions, became new trading partners. Russia sold oil to Asia at a discount, but in large volumes that continued to fill state coffers.
Rather than surrender, Russia chose to dance to its own rhythm. It turned embargoes into a stage for proving self-sufficiency. In agriculture, which once relied heavily on imported French cheese and Polish apples, vast wheat fields emerged. Siberian farmers, with resolve as hard as Baikal ice, helped make Russia the world’s largest wheat exporter. Factories in the Urals and Siberia were pushed to produce everything from tractors to smartphones—goods that were once imported from Europe. The Russian economy didn’t collapse. On the contrary, the nation demonstrated impressive resilience. Oil and gas pipelines no longer flowed solely to Europe, but also followed the New Silk Road toward China. Oil transactions in yuan and rubles replaced those in U.S. dollars. In St. Petersburg, Indian spice traders and Arab oil entrepreneurs are now a common sight in a port once dominated by European ships.
Back home in the archipelago—where tropical rains water rice fields and forests—Russia’s resilience is not merely a tale of survival, but a lesson with real, present-day relevance. If Russia has wheat and gas, Indonesia possesses equally rich resources—from nickel buried deep in Sulawesi’s earth to palm oil blanketing Sumatra in green. Yet true economic resilience doesn’t lie in what we have, but in our ability to transform resources into high-value products. Indonesia has long been trapped in a pattern of the “fisherman selling raw fish,” exporting raw materials without value-added processing. Yet value is born not from selling raw nickel or crude palm oil, but from refining them into lithium batteries, cosmetic products, biodiesel, or other finished goods. Through local processing, Indonesia can not only build economic independence, but also create technology-based jobs, increase state revenue through taxes and foreign exchange, and reduce dependency on volatile global commodity prices. Without strategic action, we remain mere spectators in the global marketplace, while others reap the profits from our natural bounty.
Moreover, amid the U.S.–China trade conflict that fuels global protectionism, Indonesia cannot afford to be a passive observer or rely on shrinking traditional markets. While tariff wars surely affect exports and economic stability, the long-term solution is not to lament broken ties but to build a new game plan—targeting untapped, non-traditional markets. In Dubai, Indonesian entrepreneurs not only sell halal products but use halal certification as a “passport” to penetrate Middle Eastern and North African markets—regions with high demand and little competition. In South Africa, Acehnese coffee and Yogyakarta batik are no longer cheap commodities but stylish lifestyle brands competing with global labels. Meanwhile in Brazil, Indonesia’s coffee diplomacy is designed not just for exports, but to forge alliances with local producers and build alternative trade blocs in Latin America. This approach is not mere diversification, but a geopolitical strategy transforming Indonesia from a trade war victim into an architect of new economic pathways. Though tremors from the U.S. and China are inevitable, focusing on these “underdog” markets reduces dependency and creates opportunities to become a price maker—not a price taker. Rather than patching torn fishing nets, it is better to weave stronger, wider nets in uncharted seas—just as Russia redirected its pipelines from Europe to China.
Trade wars are like tropical storms: they tear through the curtain of dependence but also open land for growing independence. Just as Russia was forced to innovate by sanctions, Indonesia must realize that dependence on Western payment systems like SWIFT—vulnerable to political blockade—is a ticking time bomb. Amid threats of global economic fragmentation, Bank Indonesia has taken more than whispered steps. The Local Currency Settlement (LCS) scheme with Malaysia using rupiah and ringgit is a tangible example of cutting the U.S. dollar’s dominance. At the grassroots level, QRIS (Quick Response Code Indonesian Standard) is more than a digital payment tool—it is financial sovereignty infrastructure paving a domestic and regional “toll road” for transactions without foreign intervention. If SWIFT is ever hijacked by geopolitics, Indonesia already has a shield: an independent payment network that reduces transaction freeze risks and ensures smooth trade with partners like the UAE and Thailand. This is not merely a technical fix—it is an economic weapon that gives Indonesia two advantages: first, freedom from foreign currency pressure; second, greater bargaining power globally, no longer trapped in the “proxy war” between the U.S. and China. With a sovereign payment system, the trade war storm is no longer a threat—but a moment to build a resilient, sovereign financial ecosystem.
Still, this dance is not always graceful. Protecting local industries can cause prices to soar, while finding new trade partners is like forging trails in a jungle—it takes years, tough negotiations, and bold risk-taking. For instance, when Europe cut palm oil imports, Indonesia had to seek new markets in Africa or the Middle East. The process is not instant—trials, adaptation, and occasional failures are part of finding the right formula. This is where local wisdom plays a role. Mutual cooperation between the government, state-owned enterprises (SOEs), and MSMEs can become a secret weapon. SOEs like Pertamina and PLN could become Indonesia’s own version of Gazprom, while MSMEs are the guerrilla forces that fill market gaps.
Russia and Indonesia may never be alike. Moscow dances on snow with the firm steps of a soldier, while Jakarta sways in tropical rain with grace. But both share the same mantra: self-reliance. Indonesia need not become a “Tropical Russia”—we have our own philosophy: “Where the earth is stepped on, there the sky is upheld.” Nickel and palm oil are our “earth”; downstream processing and diplomacy are how we uphold the “sky” of economic sovereignty. Just as Russia found strength in adversity, Indonesia too can become an unexpected dancer in the trade war stage—agile, flexible, and ready to turn storms into blessings. One final lesson from Moscow? As the Russian proverb goes: “В тихом омуте черти водятся” (In a quiet whirlpool, demons live). Indonesia must remain vigilant, yet quick to seize opportunities amid global conflict.
Irma Tsuraya Choirinnida