World citizen who has stayed true to his roots

Evi Mariani The Jakarta Post/Jakarta

During his tenure as a United Nations peacekeeper in Africa, Omar Halim cried twice; once, because he was proud of the UN, the second time because he was hurt by and ashamed of the UN.

"In Namibia, we (the UN) made mistakes, but it was a successful mission and I cried because I was proud," Omar, 69, said.

"Later in Somalia, I saw American black hawks hovering above the UN compound in Mogadishu, launching rockets at civilians, killing 72 people, mostly the elderly," he said. "I cried because I was hurt, I yanked my UN ID card from my chest and threw it away."

In October 1993, all hell broke loose in Mogadishu, as U.S. troops were ordered to kill faction leader Mohamed Farah Aideed.

The urban warfare -- in which a number of U.S. military corpses were dragged through the streets of Mogadishu -- was brought on-screen in Ridley Scott's Black Hawk Down, adapted from the best-seller of the same name by Mark Bowden.

"The UN knew that the conflicting Somali clans had signed an agreement to adopt a peaceful government. Instead of continuing its peacekeeping efforts, the UN declared Aideed a criminal, wanting him dead or alive," Omar, who considers himself a citizen of the world, said.

After the "black hawk down" incident, U.S. and UN troops were withdrawn from Somalia, leaving some civilian officers, including Omar, to keep the peace. In order to do so, UN officials had to talk with Aideed.

"I flew from country to country to meet Aideed, to talk to him. When we finally met, he embraced me and kissed my right and left shoulders. Later, I asked a Somalian about the meaning of such a kiss. He said, 'It was a gesture of the highest respect a Somalian could give'," Omar told The Jakarta Post from his apartment in Central Jakarta.

"General Aideed, honestly, did you ever want to kill me?" Omar asked him, as he was known to hate the UN for its perceived bias.

"Once, I was only meters away from you. I saw you but you were not aware of my presence, I was in a woman's dress," Aideed told Omar.

"Aideed is a leader who knew what he wanted for Somalis," Omar said.

Being impartial

Omar Halim is an Indonesian citizen but his curriculum vitae shows his lengthy experience in Africa and the U.S. and his work for the world's largest multinational organization, the UN, a source for him both of pride as well as disappointment.

"The UN is a multinational organization. Its power lies in its impartiality. Once it bows to a certain country, it loses its integrity," Omar said.

Thus, he said, he always tried to maintain his integrity.

When he was chairman of the recruitment and promotion committee at UN Headquarters in New York, he had to deal with office politics involving highly respected government officials from UN member countries.

Omar said that if he had been more partial to a certain country that was in power, he could have been a top UN official.

"But for me, without integrity, I am nothing," he said.

This seems to have been for him a guiding principle.

The Abdurrahman Wahid, Megawati Soekarnoputri and Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono administrations have trusted him with a number of advisory jobs, including the drafting of the Cessation of Hostilities Agreement for Aceh.

Omar was born to a Chinese-Indonesian family in 1936 in Tegal, Central Java. He finished high school in Kanisius College in Jakarta and continued his studies at the University of Indonesia (UI), majoring in economics.

Later he won a scholarship to study in the U.S. at Wesleyan University, Connecticut, and at Harvard University, Massachusetts, majoring in economics at both.

Shortly after graduation, he was offered a job at UN Headquarters.

He lived for about 30 years in the U.S., marrying an Equadorian, with whom he has a daughter and a son.

His is the epitome of a modern and global family: His wife lives in South America, he lives in a modest apartment in Jakarta, his son and his family are in one part of the U.S., while his daughter is in another part of the same country.

"We meet two to three times a year. Usually my wife and I visit them in the U.S. because we have more flexibility time- wise," he said, adding that he could not live in South America with his wife because he would not have enough to do there and vice versa -- his wife could not live in Indonesia for the same reason.

He has now been back in Indonesia for eight years and has worked in a variety of jobs.

He has been a senior fellow at the Centre for Strategic and International Studies (CSIS) and the Research Institute for Democracy and Peace, executive director for the Indonesian delegation to the Asia-Europe Business Forum and executive director for South-South Technical Cooperation.

The power of the kris

But now, apart from his academic and diplomatic tasks, he was recently appointed chairman of the Association of Indonesian Kris Lovers.

Omar said the kris was state-of-the-art technology and he wanted the younger generation to understand that.

"Nowadays, if young people see a kris they usually ask, 'Does the kris have magical power?'," Omar added.

With the association, he said, he wanted to emphasize the science behind the kris, as well as its history. Although he said he was not the most accomplished kris expert in Indonesia, he knew a lot about krises, including the Javanese terms.

Omar, who has about 40 krises and spears at his apartment, is an interesting mix of global and local values.

Although he is, of course, a fluent English speaker, he is still fluent in both Bahasa Indonesia and Javanese. And although his Javanese roots are discernible in his speech and gestures, the way he expresses opinions is very different to most Javanese.

He is a no-nonsense person who states the bald facts -- however ugly they may be -- with ease. He is also the kind of person who can list his achievements matter-of-factly, without appearing to boast.

He said he was "religionless"; nevertheless, he faithfully placed every kris he was about to unsheathe on his forehead.

"It's a demonstration of respect to whatever resides in the kris," he said.

"I admire the kris because of the craftsmanship that goes into its production, not because of the superstitious side of it," he said. "However, I believe that a kris has spirit -- not a genie -- something to protect its owner or to enhance its clout."

His worldly side arose when he talked about feminine beauty.

"The most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life was an Ethiopian girl. She was stunning, with wavy, long black hair and large eyes.

I could not forget her face," Omar said, reminiscing wistfully.