Why Indonesian tycoon Hary Tanoesoedibjo is an admirer of Putin

Indonesian tycoons usually prefer to live outside the centre of ugly, traffic-clogged Jakarta. Somewhere with cleaner air and, preferably, space for a helipad. Yet Hary Tanoesoedibjo, the media mogul who emerged unscathed from the Asian financial crisis to build a multibillion-dollar empire, has always done things differently.

The 49-year-old's grandiose residence dominates an entire block in a fashionable residential area called Senopati, close to the city's main business district. Opposite the triple-fronted house is a chichi restaurant; a popular table-tennis bar is around the corner.

More importantly for Tanoesoedibjo - whose sport of choice is Muay Thai (Thai boxing), not ping-pong - he is near to the upmarket Pacific Place mall (where he often has meetings), the Grand Hyatt hotel (which he part owns) and the office of his MNC Group (Indonesia's largest media company, which operates three free-to-air television channels, as well as newspapers, magazines and websites). Evidently, he is a man who likes to be close to the action.

One of his assistants had asked me to wait in the semi-permanent marquee that stands in the central courtyard of this 8,000 sq metre compound, which Tanoesoedibjo bought in 2000. There used to be a school here but he tore it down and his wife designed the house alongside Thomas Elliott, a US architect who also lives in the Indonesian capital.

Tanoesoedibjo, his wife and five children moved there in 2006, alongside the small army of maids, aides, drivers and security guards that is de rigueur for the tightly-knit elite that controls Indonesia's economy and politics.

Perhaps pleasant on a breezy evening, the vast tent is far too hot on a sweltering Saturday afternoon in the tropics. So it comes as a welcome relief when the adjutant leads the way into a cool, air-conditioned two-storey library.

"This my favourite room in the house," says the tycoon as he strides in. "I love to read about successful people."

Interspersed with photographs of his family, there are rows and rows of biographies of world leaders in business, politics and the arts: Bill Clinton, Chairman Mao, Leonardo da Vinci, Singapore's first prime minister Lee Kuan Yew, Warren Buffett and Indonesia's first two presidents, Sukarno and Suharto. The small self-help section features the Complete Idiot's Guides to etiquette and public speaking.

"Everything can be learned if you are down to earth and focused on the details," says Tanoesoedibjo. "Many people always blame others for their problems. I try to look at myself, what I'm lacking and what I need to improve."

Dressed in blue jeans and a dark, long-sleeved shirt - untucked - he looks relaxed. Yet his boyish looks belie his reputation as one of the toughest negotiators in the cut-throat world of Indonesian commerce.

The youngest of six siblings, he studied business at university in Canada before returning to set up a stockbroking house in Jakarta in 1990. His big break came with the Asian financial crisis of 1997-98, when Indonesia was hit hard and economic calamity led to political change, as the long-ruling autocrat Suharto was swept from power following mass protests.

While some businessmen from Indonesia's small but successful ethnic Chinese minority fled because of the anti-Chinese violence that erupted at that time, Tanoesoedibjo saw an opportunity. "The riots looked scary but they created anomalies," he says. "The biggest opportunities happen when there's a big problem and that's why I decided to invest aggressively in many different businesses, buying cheap assets."

The tycoon picked up an interest in business from his father, who ran a construction company in Surabaya, East Java. But he wanted to make his own way in life so he moved to the capital despite not knowing anyone there. "I was a total stranger and from there I started to get to know people and build relationships."

He floated his stockbroking company at just the right time in 1997 - a few months before the financial crisis hit. That gave him a war chest with which to begin his acquisition spree. In 2001, he bought his first TV station, acquiring it from one of Suharto's sons. The following year he added another TV station, this time picking it up from one of Suharto's daughters, with whom he is now going through a messy dispute over its ownership.

Tanoesoedibjo then diversified into property, toll roads and financial services. Today, he says, his group spans 10 listed companies, with 30,000 employees and a market capitalisation of about $9bn.

As he recounts his rise to billionaire status, he occasionally switches tack to lament a cheap real estate transaction on which he missed out, or pauses to mock a rival tycoon for coming a cropper. "It's very normal to have disputes, especially when the other side is growing more quickly," he says, in a dig at his business rivals.

The key to his success in media, he adds, is being in the right industry at the right time. "We are a very big country, with a lot of young people, half of the population below 30, and advertising spending still at a low base," he says.

The library is part of the guest wing of the property, which incorporates a large neoclassical dining room and living room. An azure outdoor pool stands between this building and the private house, where his family live. Every day starts at 6am in the gym with a gruelling two-hour rotation of weights, cardiovascular work and Muay Thai with his personal trainer.

"I must sweat each morning or I feel uneasy," he says, before taking me next door to the place where he often ends his days: the wine room, where only a small proportion of his 2,000 vintage bottles - worth in the "high single-digit millions of dollars" - are stored.

While most of his businesses are thriving, his recent foray into politics has proven less rewarding. Between 2011 and early 2014, he joined, funded and then left two political parties. Then, in May, he threw his money and TV stations behind Prabowo Subianto, a former special forces general who lost July's presidential election to Jakarta governor Joko Widodo.

Chastened by the experience, he now wants to set up his own party. It is an expensive enterprise. "It's best not to count how much I've spent," he says, laughing. And yet, while politics has taken its financial toll, it has led to some savings: he stopped acquiring flashy cars after being shocked by the high levels of poverty he witnessed on the campaign trail. "Still," he concedes, "I have the Rolls-Royces, all types of Bentley, a Ferrari and more."

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Despite its great promise as an emerging market, Indonesia is struggling under the weight of endemic corruption, rising social inequality and legal uncertainties. To fix the country, Tanoesoedibjo says, "we need a leader with integrity, with capability and, most important, strong leadership".

Could he do more to benefit Indonesia through philanthropy than politics? He is sceptical about the impact of money alone. "Bill Gates is worth $70bn and if you divided up all his wealth between the 250m Indonesia people, each one would only get $280," he says. Tanoesoedibjo's target is to be in the government, "in a position with the authority to make change". While most political analysts in Indonesia doubt he has the popularity to win the highest elected office, he is determined to keep trying. "Anything we do, we have to complete," he says. "It's easy to start something but not easy to end it nicely."

Ben Bland is the FT's Indonesia correspondent

Photographs: Rony Zakaria

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