East Timor: Dutch war crimes replayed

By Aboeprijadi Santoso

This is the second of two articles on the origins of war crimes in Indonesia.

AMSTERDAM (JP): Jakarta's rule in East Timor ended with excessive violence, as did the Dutch war in Indonesia in the 1940s. These two cases carry lessons on the genesis of military atrocities.

Last September, following the victory of the proindependence camp in the August ballot in East Timor, there were reports that hundreds of people were massacred, dozens missing, many suffering from hunger, women raped, some 200,000 people displaced and another 250,000 deported to East Nusa Tenggara, the western half of Timor island.

As towns were devastated and infrastructure destroyed, virtually the entire population suffered from insecurity and social dislocation, and a huge amount of public and private property was lost.

It was another Asian "Year Zero", which is what occurred in Pol Pot's Cambodia. The carnage marked the final chapter of East Timor's decolonization. Like the Dutch war crimes (but unlike the Japanese war crimes, but we will put that aside), these events were the outcome of the demise of the occupying force as its army, itself in crisis, resisted the transition to a new state and society. Those officers responsible for the crimes should be tried according to international standards.

Just as the Dutch came when Indonesia proclaimed its independence, Jakarta intervened as East Timor was about to take advantage of its window of opportunity in the 1970s. Most political parties in East Timor at the time, including the Jakarta-backed Apodeti, wanted a self-determination vote, while the left-wing Fretilin demanded independence. The 1975 invasion by Indonesia thwarted these aspirations.

Massive violence, therefore, took place from the very beginning. The list of massacre sites includes Dili, Tasi Tolu, Kraras, the Matebian region, culminating in Santa Cruz, Dili, 1991, which opened Timor's Pandora's box. Globalization, with the post-Cold War emphasis on human rights, turned the tables as the world witnessed images of the Santa Cruz killings and the wave of local protests.

From this point, East Timor became a lost cause for Jakarta -- just as the Dutch war was at the end of the 1940s.

As the tripartite negotiations moved forward without any prospects of an agreement and as neither side in East Timor could win on the battlefield, the impasse persisted for too long -- with Soeharto's Army maintaining dominance and arresting independence leader Jose Alexandre "Xanana" Gusmao, while the Timorese were winning the global public opinion war.

That, too, was the Dutch predicament, as its army won in 1948 in Yogyakarta and arrested Sukarno, but lost the diplomatic struggle.

Once the economic crisis hit and Soeharto fell, it was basically a matter of time before president B.J. Habibie announced what was in effect a surrender -- opening the way to the May agreement and the ballot demanded since 1974.

It was a dramatic turnaround, though, reflected by Xanana's changing status from that of guerrilla commander to political prisoner meeting world leaders in Jakarta; and by Jakarta's changing response from a sort of colonial arrogance to a face- saving pragmatism.

This was summed up by its own metaphors to describe East Timor, from an "itching (in our) armpit" (Gen. Ali Moertopo in 1974); to "a pebble in our shoes" (Ali Alatas, 1992); "nothing but rocks" (B.J. Habibie, 1999); and finally "an appendix we need to get rid of" (Dewi F. Anwar, 1999).

These developments were most painful for the Army. East Timor was too big a stake to lose. But the Army was discredited following the collapse of Soeharto's New Order government. With some elements of the old regime anxious to avoid another humiliation, yet well aware the Timorese might choose independence, armed militias were (re)activated and "security" and "evacuation" plans prepared.

As the UN proceeded with the vote, the militia violence continued but failed to provoke an armed response by proindependence guerrillas, so the vote continued forward. By August, the violence proved counterproductive and the families of soldiers were evacuated from Dili. Jakarta officials, apparently informed about what was coming, left Dili even before the ballot results were announced on Sept. 4.

As new troops landed at night, danger was felt to be imminent and the press was intimidated into leaving the country. Two days later, the persecution, deportation and destruction began.

The mayhem was probably worse than any Dutch war crimes committed in the 1940s. The militias were legalized, but acted like Rambo warriors serving their masters. The extensive destruction, widespread use of automatic weapons and the participation of soldiers proved the militias' links, organized rather than spontaneous, with the Army. It was not a "civil war" nor was there anything "tribal" about the reign of terror.

It was disillusioned elements within the Army reviving the scorched-earth tactics learned from the Dutch war, and replaying the persecution of alleged communists in 1965 and 1966.

The action in the mid-1960s is fundamental for understanding political violence in Indonesia. "That was the first time the Army felt they could do anything above the law," one expert on Indonesia, Ben Anderson, said. This "legitimate" cycle of impunity continued in East Timor, Priok, Lampung, Irian Jaya and Aceh.

It set the tone in defining the Army's pattern of action. According to this pattern, military operations, particularly at times of crisis, tend to result in human rights violations and war crimes.

The writer is a journalist based in Amsterdam, the Netherlands. He was in East Timor last August and September.