A relatively painless primer on the history of the conflict in East Timor

by Jeffrey Benner

The Indonesian occupation of East Timor -- a tiny half-island a few hundred miles north of Australia -- has cost more than 200,000 lives since the Indonesian military invaded in 1975, according to Amnesty International (the Indonesian government put the number at 100,000). Now, after centuries of colonial rule and decades of suffering and resistance, the East Timorese will finally have a say in their own fate. On August 30, the United Nations will sponsor a referendum in which the East Timorese will be asked to either accept or reject integration with Indonesia. 

After 400 years as an impoverished outpost of the Portuguese empire, East Timor opened a stormy new chapter in its history in 1974. In April of that year, a cartel of left-leaning generals overthrew the Portuguese dictator Marcelo Caetano in Lisbon. The new regime made it known that it would free the remaining scraps of Portugal's once-extensive colonial empire: Angola, Mozambique, Guinea-Bassau, and East Timor.

In anticipation of independence, two major political parties quickly emerged in East Timor: the Timorese Democratic Union (UDT) and the Revolutionary Front for an Independent East Timor (FRETILIN). In January 1975, the two parties formed a coalition and prepared for statehood. 

Sadly, Indonesia, East Timor's powerful neighbor, had other plans. Directed by military leaders who were determined to control East Timor, Indonesian agents sabotaged the region's peaceful progress toward independence. In May 1975, Indonesian operatives persuaded the UDK to withdraw from the coalition. In August, convinced that any independent East Timorese regime which included the leftist FRETILIN would not be permitted by its Indonesian neighbors, the UDT seized power.

FRETILIN fought back. Supported by the majority of East Timorese civilians, it quickly gained control. UDT forces and their families (about 2,500 refugees) were driven over the border into Indonesian West Timor. During the fighting, the last remaining Portuguese administrators fled. 

The invasion
Claiming that intervention was necessary to restore peace and security in East Timor, Indonesia invaded on Dec. 7, 1975, one day after US President Gerald Ford and Secretary of State Henry Kissinger departed from a summit meeting in Jakarta. The East Timorese have suffered under occupation ever since. 

During the initial military offensive, a large percentage of East Timor's 600,000 inhabitants fled -- along with FRETILIN's armed wing, known as Falintil -- into the rugged mountains in the eastern half of the island. As the war dragged on, starvation and carpet bombing eventually forced most of the surviving population to settle in camps and towns controlled by the Indonesian military (ABRI). Military attack, executions, starvation after crops were destroyed or abandoned, forced migration, and disease claimed an estimated 100,000 lives in the first year of occupation alone.

Intermittent military offensives against Falintil have continued ever since, often displacing large segments of the civilian population. The military has used harsh tactics to coerce cooperation from the people and solidify Indonesian rule. These methods have included forced migration, rape and forced sterilization, forced military service, torture, murder, and harassment. One in four East Timorese is thought to have lost his or her life in the struggle. 

The United States -- as well as Australia and Britain -- has been complicit in this terror. The US has coddled Indonesia as a valuable ally in the war against communism and as a lucrative trading partner, providing Indonesia and its military with funding, training, and weapons. Despite the end of the Cold War, increasing international criticism of both Indonesia and its western supporters, and growing dissent in Congress over US policy on Indonesia, the relationship remains intact. 

The first signs of hope
During the '80s, independence for East Timor looked like a lost cause. With the territory off-limits to outsiders, including human-rights groups and journalists, Indonesia ruled with impunity, and the East Timorese were left to suffer in isolation. 

But Indonesian overconfidence in its "victory" breathed new life into the liberation struggle in 1989. In a dramatic reversal of policy, the Indonesian government opened East Timor to settlers, businesspeople, and tourists from other provinces of Indonesia, as well as to foreign tourists. In October of that year, Pope John Paul II was allowed to visit -- a significant gesture toward East Timor's predominately Catholic population. Four months later, the US Ambassador to Indonesia David Newsom paid a call to East Timor's capital, Dili, as well. 

From the Indonesian perspective, this new glasnost strategy was a disaster. For the East Timorese independence movement, it offered the opportunity to get the ear of the world. The price of recognition, however, was dear. 

During the Pope's speech, demonstrators rushed toward the podium and tried to brandish a pro-independence banner. A chair-throwing melee broke out as the authorities moved in. The incident was caught on film and reported in newspapers around the world. During the visit of the US Ambassador to Dili, demonstrators met him outside his hotel. Indonesian police violently dispersed the protesters, reportedly killing two, and generated still more bad press for the Indonesian government. 

Amid growing international awareness of the situation, Western journalists began traveling to East Timor to investigate. Meanwhile, Indonesian authorities were anxious to crush any further manifestation of dissent. In 1991, these two trends clashed in what was to be a turning point in the liberation cause.

The Santa Cruz massacre
On Nov. 12, 1991, seven Western journalists, including US citizens Allan Nairn and Amy Goodman, witnessed Indonesian soldiers open fire on hundreds of unarmed pro-independence demonstrators at the Santa Cruz cemetery in Dili. A British photographer actually captured the rampage on video. Nairn and Goodman, who had tried to place themselves between the soldiers and the people, were threatened at gunpoint and beaten. 

Initial eyewitness accounts claimed at least 100 people were killed; subsequent investigation by an East Timorese organization called Peace Is Possible in East Timor has identified 271 victims by name. While it failed to make headlines, the incident did not go unnoticed in the West. In 1992, Nairn and Goodman testified about the incident before Congress. 

The independence movement gained further international recognition -- via a far more positive route -- in 1996, when longtime East Timor national liberation activists José Ramos-Horta and Bishop Carlos Ximenes Belo were awarded the Nobel Peace Prize. The committee included with the award a scathing condemnation of Indonesia's chronic violations of human rights in East Timor. 

Ramos-Horta has called his people's struggle "a footnote to the Cold War." Last year, political circumstances finally began to work for, rather than against, the East Timorese. With the Indonesian economy devastated by the collapse of its currency (the rupiah) in 1997, riots and looting began breaking out across Indonesia in early 1998. 

Student demonstrators called for the resignation of President Suharto, who -- thanks in large part to the support of the West -- had ruled the nation since 1967. As a stipulation for an economic bailout, the International Monetary Fund (IMF) demanded reform of the corrupt practices that had made the Indonesian economy so susceptible to collapse ... and Suharto's family one of the richest in the world. With pressure mounting from inside and out, on May 21, Suharto resigned, handing the reins of power to his vice president, B. J. Habibie. 

A shocking change of heart
For East Timor, the windfall was swift. With Habibie fighting for his political life, and the country racked by an ongoing political and economic crisis, the new administration began indicating that East Timor was a problem it was ready to solve. In August, a plan was presented to grant East Timor greater autonomy. A UN envoy visited in December, and reports began to surface that the government was finally negotiating in earnest with Portugal -- and even with jailed independence movement leader Xanana Gusmão -- to find a solution for East Timor. 

This January, Habibie said that a rejection of the government's autonomy proposal by the East Timorese could lead to independence for the troubled province. Independence leaders met the unexpected and extraordinary concession by their longtime adversaries with guarded optimism. At an impromptu press conference, Gusmão simply said, "Better late than never" and called for cease-fire negotiations to begin. On May 5, Indonesia and Portugal formally agreed to allow the UN to conduct a referendum on Indonesia's autonomy proposal. The agreement includes a commitment from Indonesia that, should autonomy be rejected, East Timor will be "separated" from Indonesia. 

The violence continues
The apparent Indonesian capitulation has been a mixed blessing. Since the announcement that independence is a real possibility, a wave of violence has once again flooded East Timor. The culprits are bands of pro-integration paramilitaries who enjoy the favor of the Indonesian army. 

These groups have been harassing, torturing, murdering, and threatening the East Timorese in an attempt to force them to approve integration. Statistics on the current violence are difficult to confirm, but the death toll appears to run at least in the hundreds, and could be far higher. Tens of thousands of people have fled from their homes in fear. Some 40,000 others are staying in "refugee camps" controlled by the military. UN voting centers and personnel have also been threatened and attacked.

Despite the violence, which has twice precipitated a delay in the voting date, the process is going forward. Voter registration, which is now complete, seems to have been remarkably successful. Approximately 450,000 voters were registered; nearly all of those eligible. On August 15, supporters of both sides kicked off the two-week campaign period with rallies, which were mixed with scattered outbreaks of violence.

The decision nears
With the ballot only days away, tension is high. Nearly all expect a free and fair vote will reject autonomy, and ominous reports have been surfacing of weapons being hoarded by paramilitaries and evacuation plans being drawn up by the Indonesian administration. With the only international presence being unarmed UN election observers, many fear that a "no" vote will be followed by a descent into chaos. The UN has asked that the number of civilian security personnel -- to be provided by the Indonesian government -- be doubled. 

Despite justified concern, beneath the apprehension of independence advocates must be tremendous hope. The massive turnout for registration, even in a violent atmosphere, was an impressive victory for them. Each day seems to bring new signs that times really are changing. This week, for example, Indonesian authorities announced that all East Timorese political prisoners -- including Xanana Gusmão -- would be released immediately following the vote. 

After decades of terror, it appears that this dark chapter in East Timor's history may finally be drawing to a close.