Jamsheed Marker - East Timor - A Memoir of The Negotiations For Independence-McFarland (2003)
Jamsheed Marker - East Timor - A Memoir of The Negotiations For Independence-McFarland (2003)
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McFarland & Company, Inc., Publishers
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1. W hy East Timor? 7
2. Getting Acquainted: People, Places and Perceptions,
Part I (Lisbon: March through July 1997) 18
3. G etting Acquainted: People, Places and Perceptions,
Part II (Jakarta: March through July 1997) 24
4. East Timor (March through July 1997) 37
5. The Negotiations Commence
(March through August 1997) 46
6. The Consultations W iden (Geneva, Pretoria, Vienna,
and London: August through November 1997) 56
7. Coming to Grips: The Negotiations Intensify
(Indonesia and East Timor: December 1997; Portugal:
January 1998; London: April 1998) 65
8. Negotiations Continue in the Shadow o f Indonesia’s
Summer of Discontent (New York and Washington:
April and May 1998) 78
9. T he Second Innings: Indonesia in Transit and Tumult
(New York, Lisbon, Jakarta, and East Timor: June
and July 1998) 86
vii
vili Contents
Epilogue 211
Index 217
Introduction: Why Me?
The involvement of a Pakistani diplomat in the long-standing and
conflict-ridden political dispute between Indonesia, Portugal, and East
Timor may initially appear somewhat incongruous. But for the United
Nations such a situation is by no means bizarre, and the induction of a
neutral, distant national as a negotiator is, in fact, very much the norm.
As background, therefore, it might be appropriate to give a brief account
of the events in my life that led to my appointment as Personal Repre
sentative of the UN Secretary-General for East Timor.
I stumbled into diplomacy in the year 1965. Prior to that, following
graduation from college, I had served as an officer in the Royal Indian
Navy in World War II on convoy escort duties, mine sweeping, and com
bined operations. Even in those distant days of my brash youth, I was
struck by the extreme moral complexities of war, with its manifestations
of idealism and heroism, juxtaposed with revulsion and horror. This
dichotomy has remained with me ever since, in its persistent, unresolved
fashion, leaving me with the conviction that there must be a better way
to resolve differences. It is surely an unmitigated paradox that one has to
kill a man in order to convince him that you are right.
On leaving the Navy I went into a reasonably prosperous family
business, until the government of Pakistan somewhat unexpectedly
sought me out and proposed a diplomatic assignment. The 1960s was the
heady decade of the decolonization process, with the emergence of a
number of newly independent countries, each bringing its own hopes
and aspirations, together with its difficulties and problems, and each
being thrown up for grabs for the two super powers that vigorously con
ducted the then prevalent Cold War. For Pakistan, as for most other
states, it became necessary to establish relations with these new entrants
1
2 Introduction
Secretary G eneral Kofi Annan (left) and his Personal Representative for East
Tim or, the author. New York. Photograph: UN Department of Public Informa
tion.
For most people, except those that live in the region and its prox
imity, East Timor is a distant place, not too easy to locate, even on a map.
Apart from its residents and immediate neighbors, its travails were known
to few, and since it possessed neither size, nor geopolitical significance,
nor vast natural resources or economic interest, it is no surprise that its
existence was largely overlooked.
But somewhere in that tiny, distant half island, a spark was flicker
ing, and a small segment of humanity was not only struggling to assert
itsrights, but more importantly was calling upon theUnited Nations to
act in fulfillment of its Charter. In February of 1997, whenSecretary-
General Kofi Annan suggested that I attempt a mediation effort in East
Timor, I knew as little of the East Timor problem as most people did,
which was not very much.
I accepted the assignment essentially because, as I have indicated in
the preface, nothing could be more worthwhile than to work with Kofi as
his representative. But there was also, I think, the personal excitement of
an unknown challenge so famously expressed by James Elroy Flecker:
We travel not for trafficking alone:
By hotter winds our fiery hearts are fanned:
For lust of knowing what should be unknown
We take the Golden Journey to Samarkand.
W hat follows will, I hope, describe how this was done. For East
Timor was a United Nations success story.
7
8 East Timor
Indonesian troops fired upon and killed a large number of peaceful East
Timorese demonstrators, raised considerable international concern.
Furthermore, significant events such as the arrest and detention in Decem
ber 1992 of the charismatic Xanana Gusmao, the universally acknowl
edged leader of the East Timorese resistance, and the award of the Nobel
Peace Prize to Bishop Ximenes Belo and Jose Ramos Horta in October
1996, each in respective fashion, provided the impetus that turned the
embers of East Timorese resistance into vivid flashes o f flame.
On December 22,1975 the United Nations Security Council called
on Indonesia to withdraw its armed forces from East Timor, and repeated
the call on April 26,1976. The General Assembly on November 19,1976,
reacting to the Indonesian Government’s legislation incorporating East
Timor as a province of the Republic, rejected the move and called for an
act of self determination.
The issue thus became a regular item on the Agenda of the General
Assembly, and initiated, by way of General Assembly and Security Coun
cil resolutions, a process which required Portugal and Indonesia to hold
negotiations, under the aegis of the Secretary-General, for a solution of
the East Timor issue. The problem was also raised, in visible fashion, at
the Human Rights Commission in February 1983, from which date it
became a major focal point in the activities of the Commission, generate
ing several heated debates that also found their way to the Third Com
mittee of the General Assembly.
But despite the significance of the political process instituted by the
General Assembly and Security Council resolutions, the practical effects
did not go very far, proceeding in somewhat desultory fashion over a series
of inconclusive biannual meetings between the Secretary-General and the
two Foreign Ministers. The Secretary-General’s annual report to the Gen
eral Assembly reported this lack of progress, and the General Assembly
in turn urged the continuation of the consultation process.
When Kofi Annan assumed the office of Secretary-General of the
United Nations in January 1997, he decided that the East Timor issue
needed a push, and a more vigorous approach than it had been hitherto
accorded. In creating the post of Personal Representative of the Secre
tary-General (PRSG), he signaled his personal and active commitment
to a solution of the East Timor problem.
We met in the office of the Secretary-General on a cold New York
day in February 1997, when Kofi offered me the assignment for East
Timor, subject to concurrence by the Governments of Portugal and
Indonesia, which were received shortly thereafter. Our meeting was as
brief and comprehensive as most meetings with Kofi Annan usually are.
Why East Timor? 11
was further enhanced by his ready availability for consultation, advice, and
guidance. Despite the multifarious other issues that landed on the desk
of the Secretary-General, Kofi always possessed an up-to-date knowledge
of the current state of negotiations over East Timor. This enabled him to
weigh in, whenever necessary, with the formidable combination of the
strength and prestige of his office, coupled with his own immense per
sonal dignity.
I can recall occasions when the two Foreign Ministers, each of whom
severally entered the Secretary-General’s office with grim expressions and
knitted brows, emerged fifteen minutes later with smiles of satisfaction.
When I complimented Kofi on the effectiveness of the West African spells
that he had obviously cast on each of his visitors, the only response that
I got from this most urbane and sophisticated of men was a quiet smile.
This, then, was Kofi Annan’s method: (a) take bold and imagina
tive initiatives, (b) keep it low key, (c) maximum devolution of author
ity and responsibility, (d) zero micromanagement, (e) assume overall
responsibility at all times, and (f) act decisively when circumstances so
demand.
Next to the privilege of working closely with the Secretary-General
was the stimulating satisfaction of working with his Chef de Cabinet.
Iqbal Riza is a close friend and colleague with whom I have shared, over
many years, not only a close friendship but also common understandings
and values, the sort that binds friendship with companionship. We speak
a common language in two languages. Iqbal possesses a sense of idealism
which not only stokes his deep motivation but has remained unscathed
despite vicissitudes and setbacks which could have turned most idealists
into cynics.
Combined with this dedication is a fierce loyalty to the United
Nations and, of course, his Chief. An able diplomat, with wide ranging
experience of the United Nations system, both at headquarters and in the
field, Iqbal’s impressive professional competence is augmented by an
equally impressive humane touch. In my work on East Timor, Iqbal was
a true guide, philosopher, friend, and dogsbody, constantly providing polit
ical counsel while simultaneously guiding my incompetent navigation
through the UN’s bureaucratic shoals.
Iqbal effectively backed the Secretary-General in providing the
encouragement and ready support, which was as reassuring as it was
important to the work of the PRSG. Without this kind of involvement
and support from the 38th floor, the story of East Timor could well have
had a less positive outcome.
The Department of Political Affairs, which assumed overall respon
Why East Timor? 13
sibility for the East Timor negotiations, was headed by Under Secretary-
General Sir Kieran Prendergast, a nimble minded Briton with 20/20 polit
ical vision, an incisive wit, and a decisive nature. Possessing an unfailing
ability to identify, expose, and discard the superfluous, which he always
did with devastating logic, Kieran’s wisdom and counsel proved invalu
able in crisis management. His attitude and approach remained at all
times collegial in the extreme, and working with him was as intellectu
ally stimulating as it was professionally agreeable.
The Assistant Secretary-General dealing with the East Timor dossier
was Alvaro de Soto, a highly intelligent and competent Peruvian with a
quiet demeanor and a subtle sense of humor. Alvaro’s rich experience
derived from a succession of diplomatic negotiations all over the world,
to which was added an impressive institutional memory coupled with an
extensive familiarity with the workings of the UN system. He was an
invaluable colleague who handled a number of crises with his own inim
itable competence and professionalism.
The two officers assigned to work with me on East Timor were
Francesc Vendrell, the Director of the Asia Pacific Division of the Depart
ment of Political Affairs, and Tamrat Samuel, a Political Officer in the
Division. The two could not have been more different in temperament
and appearance, a disparity which was an asset in its own way, particularly
as both officers were intelligent, deeply motivated, and had a thorough
professional grasp of the issues.
Vendrell was from Spain, with a distinguished bearing (I thought that
he looked like a grandee long before I ever knew him or his origins) and
an extremely lively mind. Like many highly intelligent people, he was
inclined to be temperamental, sometimes explosive, and had difficulty
concealing his feelings, especially when confronted by acts of injustice or
inhumanity. Since this was by no means infrequent in our line of busi
ness in East Timor, Francesc was subject to regular pangs of personal
agony on this account.
His lively mind was also always full of ideas, and was on the con
stant search for new initiatives, which he would pull out of his hat with
the proverbial magician’s flourish. Not all of these were always appropri
ate, of course, and their acceptance, adaptation, or rejection became a reg
ular feature of my work, adding to its burden and its fascination. Vendrell
had a vast knowledge of the South East Asia region, and it was not
acquired simply through the long experience of his duties.
An inveterate traveler, he had moved through the area not just as a
modern day tourist but as an inquisitive explorer, rather like one of his
17th century forbears, and carried with him the observations of his keen
14 East Timor
eye. Above all, Vendrell was extremely conscientious, and either produced,
or supervised the production of, working papers and reports of the high
est quality. All these attributes, coupled with his intense loyalty to the
cause and the institution, made him a very valuable member of our team.
Tamrat Samuel, a brilliant and highly competent young Eritrean,
had joined the United Nations after a somewhat turbulent spell in
Ethiopia. Tall, soft-spoken, and erudite, he had the unmistakable bear
ing of the nobility of his descent. He had worked on the East Timor
dossier for many years, both in the field and at New York, and was thor
oughly familiar not only with the issues but, more importantly, with the
personalities involved, particularly the East Timorese.
As time went on, he increasingly developed this considerable rela
tionship of trust and confidence with each of his interlocutors: the Indone
sians, the Portuguese, and the East Timorese. Tamrat’s long experience,
coupled with his wide range of contacts, were invaluable assets to our
work, often highlighting the dramatic elements in the contents of the
extensive files and records in our archives.
For instance, Tamrat was present in Dili on the day that Xanana
Gusmao was tried and sentenced to life imprisonment. His description
of the sense of despair that pervaded the island on that occasion was
unforgettable. It served to remind me, in my later negotiations with the
Indonesians, of the political importance of Xanana to the settlement
process. I owe much to Tamrat Samuel, for his expertise, his profession
alism, and his devotion to our enterprise. But above all, I am grateful for
his understanding and his friendship.
The early days of my mission were spent in New York, getting briefed
by colleagues in the UN and meeting a number of diplomats, notably
Antonio Monteiro, the lively and likable Portuguese Ambassador, and
Makarim Wibisono, the less ebullient but equally likable Indonesian
Ambassador. Our professional association quickly developed into warm
personal friendships, which proved to be a most useful safety belt during
the vicissitudes and moments of discomfort that inevitably occur during
the course of long and complicated negotiations of this nature.
In addition, we were fortunate enough to have the invaluable help,
advice, and support of a number of very able diplomats posted to mis
sions to the UN. Most prominent of these were Ambassador Penny Wens-
ley of Australia, Ambassador Nancy Soderberg of the United States,
Ambassador Stewart Eldon of the United Kingdom, Ambassador Yukio
Takasu of Japan, and Ambassador Michael Powles of New Zealand.
They met me shortly after I took over the assignment and conveyed
their interest and support for the East Timor negotiations. They were
Why East Timor? 15
true to their offer in word and deed, providing me with important infor
mation and intelligence obtained from their governments, the value of
which was immeasurably bolstered by the supplementary advice rendered
through the personal skills of the diplomats themselves.
Later on, these representatives were to form the “Core Group” of
unofficial advisers on East Timor. This innovative idea emanated from
the Secretary-General, and became an essential part of the negotiating
process. We used the Core Group not only for advice and to keep them
informed, but also for coordination with the Security Council (drafting
of resolutions) and most importantly to prevail on their governments to
lean on the Indonesian or Portuguese governments whenever we felt it
necessary to do so.
My preliminary meetings in New York were rounded off by a ses
sion with Jose Ramos Horta, the East Timorese resistance leader who had
remained in exile for a number of years, and had vigorously campaigned
for independence. Ramos Horta called on the Secretary-General in
March, and at our meeting he was informed of the renewed United
Nations efforts for a solution, which he welcomed, and to which he
promised full support.
The recent award of the Nobel Peace Prize had obviously been a
boost to his morale, and had also added to his pugnacity. His denuncia
tion of the Indonesians was forceful and scathing, and his distrust of their
motives was as strong as his contempt for their policies. Years of exile,
suffering, and struggle had left their mark on a basically assertive per
sonality, and he had a tendency to indulge in wild outbursts (not to men
tion the occasional outlandish proposal, such as descending in East Timor
with a planeload of film stars) both in private as well as public.
These were never very helpful. And yet, in his quieter moments,
when he was not tub-thumping, Jose could be a very agreeable compan
ion, prepared to share a joke and to discuss with animation his other pas
sion, as Professor of Law at the University of New South Wales in Sydney,
Australia. It was obvious that Ramos Horta would be an essential ele
ment in our negotiating process on the basis of his record and his status.
His loyalty to Xanana was complete, and during the penultimate stages
of the negotiations, when things got a little tricky, Ramos Horta curbed
his impulsiveness and displayed cooperation, party discipline, and a sense
of responsibility which was most impressive.
The dossiers on East Timor in the UN archives were voluminous in
quantity and substantial in quality, but their perusal did not provide much
ground for optimism. The Indonesian position that East Timor’s inte
gration was complete and final, and the Portuguese position that a valid
16 East Timor
act of self determination had not yet taken place, were the rocks of intran
sigence on which the negotiations had hitherto floundered.
A series of high-level as well as mid-level meetings over the course
of the years provided glimpses of an occasional flicker of hope, but then
seem to have concluded at the inevitable impasse. The process, it appeared
to me, seemed to have survived only upon the oxygen of the General
Assembly’s acceptance of the Secretary-General’s recommendation that
the negotiations continue. The distrust on both sides was palpable and
continued to permeate the atmosphere for a large part of the time that I
conducted the negotiations.
Although this was awkward and frustrating, much of it was under
standable and had to be accepted as standard. After all, we were dealing
with a long standing problem which involved everything from the relics
of colonialism to issues of international law and of human rights—and
all of this against a background of a highly emotional public opinion in
both countries. I reckoned therefore that our first small step would be to
try and develop some understanding between the negotiators themselves,
and to develop a sense of confidence between the negotiators and the
United Nations mediators.
Another major problem was the East Timorese, the mention of whose
existence provoked opposite but equally visceral reactions on both sides.
The Portuguese regarded them as a people struggling for independence
and worthy of support. For the Indonesians, such action amounted to
interference in the internal affairs of a state, and that on its most vulner
able and sensitive issue, that of national unity in a multiracial, multieth
nic, multi-religious society living in a far-flung archipelago.
It smacked of divide and rule, and of an attempt to re-impose the
dark, murky policies of a past, hated colonialism. Previous attempts to
involve representatives of East Timor in the negotiating process had been
strongly rebuffed by Indonesia, and the most that had been achieved was
the establishment of the All Inclusive East Timorese Dialogue (AIETD),
an unofficial organization of East Timorese representatives from the dias
pora as well as the island itself.
The AIETD was initially meant to be a forum for the East Timo
rese to get together and discuss cultural issues only. A ban on the discus
sion of political matters was enforced both by the rules of the AIETD
and by the pro-integration East Timorese participants. A preliminary
meeting was held in London, and two subsequent meetings were held in
Austria, generously financed and efficiently organized by the Austrian
Ministry of Foreign Affairs. The United Nations acted as a “facilitator”
for the AIETD, a device which permitted Tamrat Samuel to widen his
Why East Timor? 17
contacts and improve his expertise on the party groupings of the East
Timorese. He was also able to persuasively prevent the breakup of the con
ference on one occasion.
Despite the creation of the AIETD, I felt that the existing process
of trilateral consultations—UN, Portugal, and Indonesia—had in many
ways marginalized the East Timorese, and that the time would soon come
when we would have to stop playing Hamlet without the Prince. Clearly,
attempts at a formal institutionalization of an UN/East Timorese dia
logue would have wrecked the negotiations at the start, quite apart from
the fact that it would have been impossible at the time to secure a cred
ibly representative group of East Timorese. But the latitude and flexibil
ity provided in the mandate of the PRSG enabled us to deal with the
lacuna of the absence of their representation.
My colleagues and I maintained a regime of rigorous but unofficial
contact with the East Timorese leaders on an individual basis, both in the
island and from the diaspora. We kept them as fully informed as possi
ble o f our discussions with both governments, subject of course to the
requirements of the confidentiality of the formal negotiation process. This
device had the additional advantage of inducting the East Timorese view
point into the equation of our considerations, while simultaneously build
ing their trust and confidence in the UN negotiating process. O f course,
all this did not happen at once, but gradually evolved as events took their
course.
In March 1997, however, after I had completed my study of the East
Timor dossier and gone through a series of meetings with my UN col
leagues and the diplomats posted in New York, the outlook appeared
uncertain, to say the least. The many expressions of encouragement and
support that I received were indeed reassuring, but seemed to me to reflect
enthusiasm rather than optimism. Thus, with my backpack loaded with
ideas, counsel, and advice, I started on my journey to Ithaki. The road
promised “to be a long one, full of adventure, full of things to learn.”
2
Getti ng A cqua i nted:
People, Places and
Perceptions, Part I
L isb o n : M a r c h t h r o u g h J u l y 1997
18
Getting Acquainted (Lisbon) 19
the Portuguese political scene was, of course, superb. Even more impor
tant, from my point of view, was his comprehension of the manner in
which East Timor effected the politics of Lisbon and vice versa.
His calm, dispassionate appraisal of events was quite invaluable, and
even more so was his willingness to respond to the ideas that I occasion
ally bounced off him. To top it all off, Roger is an elegant and hospitable
host, and one was always assured of delectable nourishment for both mind
and body each time that one accepted his gracious invitation. Alas, my
inability to reciprocate, in either fashion, made these pleasant encounters
very much a one-way affair, and left me with a feeling of inadequacy,
which continues to linger.
Our first official meeting with the Portuguese took place at the For
eign Ministry, an edifice as historic and picturesque as the best of its coun
terparts in any part of the world. This was followed by a so-called working
lunch, the quality and elegance of which gave an entirely new and highly
sophisticated connotation to this otherwise rudimentary institution. It
would certainly have smoothed out any wrinkles in the preceding talks,
had they by any chance occurred.
Foreign Minister Jaime Gama, whom I met for the first time, and
with whom I had a tête-à-tête before the formal discussions commenced,
created an extremely favorable impression. Soft-spoken and courteous, he
presented Portugal’s case with the deliberation and clarity that reflected
his legal training and background, and at the same time, with consum
mate diplomacy, expressed his readiness to be flexible in the search for a
solution.
In due course, as our negotiations progressed over the months, I
learned to appreciate and admire Jaime Gama’s many qualities. Cool and
temperate in his attitude, his highly analytical mind enabled him to
quickly grasp the essentials of a problem, qualities which, when coupled
with his assurance and decisiveness, made him an excellent negotiating
partner. Apart from this, Jaime Gama and I developed a nice little side
business in a commodity exchange of cigars.
President Jorge Sampaio, who was kind enough to receive me on the
first and every subsequent occasion that I visited Lisbon, was a combina
tion of courtesy, affability, and dynamism. A vigorous, activist political
career had preceded his election to the office of President, and it was obvi
ous that he was not going to be content with cutting ribbons and open
ing exhibitions. The constitutional provision that landed the East Timor
dossier on his desk was, therefore, the ideal outlet for the exercise of his
considerable skills, and he maintained a lively, energetic and compulsive
interest in the subject.
Getting Acquainted (Lisbon) 21
me with shrewd political insight, but also ensured the smooth solution
of administrative problems.
In my discussions with the Portuguese leaders, I said that the Sec
retary-General was fully aware of the lack of progress in the talks on East
Timor, but that it was now our intention to conduct more structured and
sustained negotiations. I suggested that these take place in New York,
with the negotiating teams incorporating experts from the capitals in
order to have more focused discussions of detailed ideas. Above all, I
stressed that the negotiators be empowered with sufficient flexibility and
room for maneuver in the discussions.
I suggested that these talks take place on a continuing basis, punc
tuated on occasion by a meeting between the Secretary-General and the
two Foreign Ministers who would review the progress of the negotia
tions. The Portuguese were generally supportive of this approach, and we
discussed the problem of balancing the need for quiet diplomacy with the
need to inform the press and public of the progress o f the negotiations.
We talked about the kind of “package” formula for negotiations which the
Portuguese might consider appropriate, given the difficulty in the past
with Indonesia preferring to have a clear idea of what the negotiations
would lead to before beginning to bargain on specific issues.
This item was clearly very important, and would prove to be quite
vexatious in due course. All that we could do on this occasion was to flag
it and give it some thought. The other important matter that we discussed
was the East Timorese participation. Gama expressed dissatisfaction with
the AIETD, but supported our decision to revive it. He warned, however,
that if the East Timorese continued to be sidelined they would reject any
“artificial solution” that may be imposed, and Portugal would do the same.
The Portuguese leaders emphasized, on several occasions, that their
assistance to the East Timorese was essentially political and diplomatic,
and that they had never supplied the East Timorese resistance with either
arms or other military support. I was told, in the clearest terms, of the
Portuguese principle that any solution would have to be based on the
freely expressed wishes of the people through the exercise of democratic
principles, although they were careful to avoid equating that with a ref
erendum. At the same time, they insisted that Portugal had no “precon
ceived ideas” about a solution, and was prepared to be flexible.
At this stage Gama saw three alternative courses for talks with
Indonesia: (a) to aim for a comprehensive settlement of the problem, (b)
to adopt a stage by stage approach, first focusing on a transitional solu
tion which could last up to ten years, or (c) to concentrate on an “Interim
Package” that would include the improvement of conditions in the terri-
Getting Acquainted (Lisbon) 23
tory (human rights, protection of the identity of the people, self admin
istration, etc.). He said it was possible to follow any of these three
approaches, but did not hide his skepticism about the feasibility of the
first option at the present stage.
In my report to the Secretary-General I said:
The visit has enabled me to ascertain the position and views of
the Portuguese Government at the highest level. Three points are
of particular importance at this stage:
(a) while the demand for a referendum is the formal position,
it is my belief that the Portuguese Government would, under
appropriate circumstances and at the appropriate time, be pre
pared to settle for some form of autonomy, particularly if the Tim
orese could be persuaded to accept it
(b) the Government is in agreement with the view that more
low-key discussions are needed to move the process forward (in
the past there had been some concern about appearing to be nego
tiating “in secret”)
(c) it is prepared to discuss the long-term solution of the prob
lem, although it clearly considers addressing short-term issues and
seeking an interim solution to be the more feasible approach.
The question will be if Jakarta would be willing to consider the
step-by-step approach, which it has shunned in the past.
I have so far seen only one side of the coin. My forthcoming
visit to Indonesia and East Timor will enable me to see the other
side, on which, I suspect, the engraving could be more intricate.
3
Getting Acquainted:
People, Places and
Perceptions, Part II
Ja k a rta :
M a r c h t h r o u g h J u l y 1997
24
Getting Acquainted (Jakarta) 25
reminder of the unique nature of Indonesian politics and society, with its
subtle interplay of accommodation, shadow, and substance, a phenome
non which I found to be often bewildering but always fascinating.
Escorted by an efficient pair of outriders, our little motorcade whizzed
along the highway past lush, green paddy fields, studded with tall palm
trees, flaming hibiscus and oleander bushes, and clumps of wooded copses.
Early dawn in the tropics is always a magical moment, partly because it
is so brief, but also because the wisps of mist and smoke conceal much of
the ugliness of the real poverty that is endemic in the third world. But
here, in Jakarta’s outskirts at any rate, this raggedness was noticeably
absent, and the countryside presented an air of neat rustic simplicity.
This soon gave way, as we entered the outskirts of the city, to the
quite different aspect created by the bustling prosperity that it exuded.
The highways and intersections were choked with traffic, which our out
riders sliced through with practiced ease, while the gleaming skyscrapers
housing banks, insurance companies, national and multinational corpo
rations, and glittering shopping malls seemed poised, in predator fash
ion, to swallow the few remaining old style wood and brick structures that
cowered in their shadows.
It was a most impressive introduction to Indonesia. After all, this
was early 1997, and the largest of the Asian tigers was feeling at the top
of its unstoppable form, visibly flexing its muscles and audibly emitting
deep belly growls. There were no outward signs, at that time, of the canker
and bacteria that had already lodged in the system, viciously and rapidly
gnawing at its vitals, and hurtling toward a devastation of the old order
unforeseen in its rapidity and magnitude.
As we commenced our negotiations with the Indonesians, therefore,
we did so under the circumstances of dealing with a powerful, dynamic
nation surging toward greater glory and accomplishment. True, there were
some indications that all did not appear as well and as solid as appeared
on the surface, that there was dissatisfaction with the high degree of social
and economic disparity, that centrifugal forces were becoming more man
ifest, and that political opposition to the regime was beginning to coalesce
despite Suharto’s ruthlessly efficient methods of repression and dispersion.
The question of Suharto’s succession was beginning to be a matter
of concern, but only in terms of personalities and consequent adaptations
to the system, not to its total removal. The only ominous sign that I dis
cerned at that time was the economic situation: it appeared as the prover
bial distant dark cloud, the size of a hand. But even so, the general view
at the time was that the robust Indonesian economy would be able to
overcome it with nothing more than a hiccup.
26 East Timor
Our first meeting was with Foreign Minister Ali Alatas in his office
at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs (DEPLU), an imposing building, sump
tuously appointed and furnished with artifacts of Indonesia’s long and
rich cultural tradition, as well as with souvenirs of its more recent achieve
ments, notably its active and positive role in the Non-Aligned Move
ment, dating from its founding days in Bandung. Ali Alatas, universally
known among his legion of friends as Alex, and universally respected and
admired by his professional colleagues, is one of the ablest practitioners
of the art of diplomacy.
Possessed of a razor-sharp mind, immense vitality and energy, a lively
sense of humor, and a truly formidable negotiating technique, Alatas had
a prodigious institutional memory as far as East Timor was concerned,
having been an active and leading participant for years in the previous
negotiations, an asset which contributed significantly to the formidable
presence which he brought to bear on the current discussions.
In our earlier incarnations, Alex and I had served together as ambas
sadors, had been colleagues in the Non-Aligned as well as Group of 77,
and had collaborated closely at a number of conferences. When negoti
ations drag on until two or three o’clock in the morning, one gets to know,
at least, something of the caliber of one’s interlocutors, either as partners
or as adversaries. Alex and I had lived through some of these sessions, a
positive result of which was a deep friendship between us, and my life
time respect, admiration, and affection for Alex.
During the East Timor negotiations, Alatas constantly maintained
a broad, constructive vision and proposed creative initiatives, while always
vigorously endorsing his country’s position. I am not sure which evokes
the greater admiration, Alex’s brilliant and forceful advocacy in early 1997,
when the Indonesian position was so obviously dominant, or his assured
and skillful equanimity in the spring o f1999, when he negotiated the final
agreement under circumstances which were by then clearly much less
favorable.
On this first visit to Indonesia I was accompanied by Francesc Ven-
drell, and we had three formal meetings with Alatas, as well as a number
of informal discussions. In a wide ranging yet lucid presentation of the
Indonesian case, Alatas raised a number of issues. He commenced by
deploring the manner in which previous negotiations had been conducted
by the UN, that although a dialogue had commenced in 1983 at the ambas
sadorial level, it had been both secretive and desultory, and that the For
eign Ministers had met only once between 1983 and 1991.
He accordingly welcomed the Secretary-General’s initiative in appoint
ing a full-time representative for these negotiations, and promised his
Getting Acquainted (Jakarta) 27
Timor problem. He said that Portugal had “tried to forget certain things”
in explaining the events of 1975 and 1976. It was not true that the decol
onization process had ground to a halt after Portugal left. As a matter of
fact, Jakarta had asked Portugal to come back to East Timor as late as
November 1975. The Portuguese had a sense of guilt, and could not deny
that the central government in Lisbon had no grip on the colonial gov
ernment in East Timor.
The Governor, and especially his two lieutenants, politically leftist,
had supported Fretilin, which had received weapons from the colonial
government. That action nullified their alleged intention for a peaceful
decolonization process. Fretilin had felt that they could do in East Timor
what Frelimo and MPLA had done in Mozambique and Angola. Portu
gal, in its meetings with Indonesia in 1975, had recognized that, since the
local population was 85 percent illiterate, the decolonization process in
East Timor should not be done on the basis of one man one vote, but on
a group basis through the liurais. But, in the event, the decolonization
process had gone horribly wrong, and had led to 40,000 East Timorese
streaming into West Timor.
Indonesia, which had never made any claims on East Timor, and had
in fact been one of the promoters of Resolutions 1514 and 1541, found itself
in an impossible situation. Having undergone a traumatic experience fol
lowing the communist coup in 1965, Jakarta became concerned when
Fretilin started appealing to the Soviet Union and China to intervene,
and it was with the greatest reluctance that Suharto intervened in Decem
ber 1975.
Alatas concluded this account with an anguished “we got embroiled
and we have paid the price until now.” He then went on to add how recent
events, particularly the award of the Nobel Prize, had led the Portuguese
to harden their position. There would be general elections in May 1997,
followed by presidential elections in March 1998. “No one knows what
will happen after that,” he said. He added ominously that the United
Nations might be saddled with this problem for years to come.
Alatas concluded his remarks by strongly reiterating that Indonesia
was serious about the East Timor issue, but there was a line that they could
not cross. They were willing to show flexibility, but one could not move
forward unless it was through quiet diplomacy. He deplored the “trend
that the Portuguese were saying that the UN could not succeed, and that
the US and European Union should intervene.” Alatas was firmly of the
view that the UN was the best qualified to mediate, that the US and the
EU were also of this opinion, and that what was really required was the
political will on the part of Indonesia and Portugal.
Getting Acquainted (Jakarta) 29
idential areas, the house did not appear to be noticeably different from
the others in the neighborhood, and even the security arrangements did
not appear to be excessive.
The President received us in a modest sized living room, rendered
even more so by the excess of paintings and artifacts that adorned it. The
first impression was that of being surrounded by kitsch in an antique store,
but this was soon dispelled on closer scrutiny. The decor was entirely
Indonesian and represented, some in breathtaking magnificence and
beauty, the rich and diverse cultural, social, and historic tradition of a
remarkable people and civilization.
Suharto had traveled all over the world and must obviously have
received many valuable gifts, but in this room there was almost nothing
of foreign origin on display. It was as though to reflect the contentment,
pride, and satisfaction that its occupant derived from the rich and vivid
nature of his cultural isolationism.
Suharto’s greeting was warm and gentle. He spoke in a soft baritone,
without undue emotion or excitability, during the entire course of our
meeting. An interpreter translated for me from Bahasa into English, and
only provided the occasional clarification to Suharto, whose comprehen
sion of English seemed to be perfectly adequate. There was no question
that Suharto radiated an impressive presence. A refined and courteous
demeanor did nothing to conceal the aura of power and authority that
exuded from a personality that had exercised these functions for thirty-
two years.
O f medium height and an upright soldier’s bearing, he seemed no
less diminished by the absence of the phalanx of military brass that sur
rounds him in photographs. His eyes were a steely dark gray, and never
lost their intensity despite the fact that he smiled a great deal during our
conversation. Suharto spoke softly, with cool assurance, and without ever
raising his voice or gesticulating with his hands, yet his words were any
thing but a monotone, compelling attention through the magnetism of
his personality.
After all, it should be remembered that at that particular point in
time Suharto was still at the height of his power: he had been acknowl
edged as one of the leading heads of state in the world, a powerful rep
resentative of the Non Aligned Movement, and a distinguished elder
statesman whose accomplishments evoked applause and whose counsels
were regarded with respect. And, as we met on that March morning in
Jakarta, Suharto’s manner and attitude clearly indicated that we both
knew this.
Suharto said that East Timor had been a long-standing issue, but
Getting Acquainted (Jakarta) 31
continued to declare it as an irritant, the pebble had been in the shoe for
too long, had developed from irritation into discomfort, and was now
causing an embarrassing limp, particularly in terms of Indonesia’s exter
nal relations and international image. I had a feeling that Suharto real
ized this, notwithstanding the Panglossian nature of his recent presentation
to me, and that this realization, based in terms that were pragmatic rather
than morally compulsive, was that the situation was now becoming an
impediment to his justifiable ambitions for enlarging Indonesia’s position
and stature in the international sphere. This, coupled with his repeated
assurances that he would accord the UN effort “the highest priority,” were
encouraging signs, and left me with feelings of cautious optimism.
My next meeting was with Major General Prabowo Subianto, the
charismatic and controversial commander of the Special Forces (KOPAS
SUS), and reportedly the favorite son-in-law of President Suharto. Shortly
before the formal announcement of my appointment as PRSG, I had
received a message from a friend in Pakistan who was also a friend of
Prabowo, that the latter wished to meet me “in a social capacity.”
I was informed that Prabowo would be entrusted with the overall
coordination of the East Timor negotiations from the Indonesian side,
and that he wished to meet me in secret for some preliminary discussions.
I conveyed my acceptance in principle to meet in either New York or Lon
don, but this could not be arranged, and our first meeting therefore took
place in Jakarta, also under conditions of strict secrecy, although I could
not quite understand why.
Prabowo Subianto was at that time considered to be one of the ris
ing stars of the Indonesian establishment. He had the reputation of being
an outstanding army officer, socially urbane and charming, but profes
sionally highly intelligent, dynamic, efficient, and ruthless. He possessed
two other assets which enabled him to be one of the most powerful men
in the country at the time: the first was political acumen of a high order,
and the second was a closeness to President Suharto, who reportedly
regarded Prabowo as his favorite son-in-law.
The KOPASSUS was a corps d’elite of the Indonesian armed forces,
a combination of Praetorian Guard and SS, which was equipped with the
choicest men and weapons, and whose duties included a great deal of
internal surveillance and repression. It also spearheaded the Indonesian
military presence in East Timor, which it tended to guard jealously as a
special preserve, and gained the dubious reputation of being the most
hated and feared of the occupation forces on the island.
Above all, KOPASSUS had been organized, trained, and fashioned
by Prabowo, whose name was linked to it in an ominous and indelible
Getting Acquainted (Jakarta) 33
manner. As so often happens, power and the personality cult, when they
get enmeshed in such visible form, attract not only the hatred of the vic
tims but also the enmity of erstwhile allies. Major General Prabowo
Subianto was no exception to this rule, and with the fall of Suharto was
obliged to flee the country, partly to escape the wrath of the people and
partly because his exit was expedited by elements in the armed forces
which had clearly been inimical to him.
My first meeting with Prabowo took place in secret at a working
lunch organized by him in the presidential suite of the hotel where I was
staying. Prabowo’s perfect English enabled both of us to make it a very
useful tete-i-tete, and our subsequent meetings were also to take place in
the same manner and at the same venue. Prabowo was polite, charming,
and articulate, without a trace of arrogance or military swagger, and our
discussions took place under the most cordial circumstances.
He considered that a solution to the problem of East Timor was
essential, that he was actively working for it, but that there were power
ful elements which were opposed to any change in the status quo. The
President was not yet convinced of the need for a settlement but was veer
ing toward it, and “we have to carry him.” Prabowo said that Alatas had
been under severe attack and criticism during recent meetings of the inner
circle of policy makers, but that the President had defended him strongly.
Prabowo confided to me that he was working “quietly but closely in
alliance with Alex,” that they envisaged some broad form of autonomy
for East Timor, but that a referendum was definitely out. He said that
there were very few who could influence the President, especially on the
subject of East Timor, but that one person for whom Suharto had tremen
dous respect was Chancellor Helmut Kohl of Germany. At the appropri
ate time it may be necessary to enlist his support.
I said that I was sure that this could be arranged, but first we needed
to do some important groundwork. In this connection I raised with
Prabowo my current problem of getting to meet Xanana Gusmao. I said
that my request for a meeting had been passed from one Ministry to
another, and that I was getting the run around because obviously none of
them seemed to have the authority to decide. In requesting Prabowo’s
intercession (I did not specify how, but we both obviously knew it) I was
guided by two major considerations.
Xanana was clearly the most important East Timorese political
leader, and could not be ignored. I said that I was willing to meet him in
secret, and that when I did meet him I did not need to believe everything
that he said. But a contact with Xanana at this stage was essential to the
credibility of my mission: if my request was denied then we would be
34 East Timor
The Senior Officials’ meeting. At this one in Jakarta, left to right, Francesc Ven-
drell o f the Department of Political Affairs, Ambassador Nugroho W isnumurti
(Indonesia), Jamsheed Marker, behind M arker is Joachim H unter, Brigadier
M ohinder Bhagat o f the UN Department o f Peacekeeping and Ambassador Fer
nando Neves (Portugal), all were in a cordial mood at the start o f a session.
Although invariably businesslike, all encounters were not always as convivial. Pho
tograph: Tamrat Samuel, authors collection.
Upon the king! Let us our lives, our souls, O ur debts, our care
ful wives, our children and O ur sins lay on the king! We must
bear all.
—Shakespeare, Henry V
On March 21 we left for Dili, stopping for a day in Bali for a useful
meeting with General Rivai, Military Commander of the Udayana
Region, which included the territory of East Timor. This was the first of
several visits to Bali, and the beautiful island, together with its amiable
people, cast its magical and indelible spell upon us, as it has done on so
many others. The nature of my work over the next two years, combined
with the structure of airline schedules, made these stopovers in Denpasar
a most agreeable necessity, permitting the restoration of equilibrium from
the frenetic activities in Jakarta and Dili.
As time went on, the contrast between the serendipity of Bali and
the oppressiveness of Dili became increasingly stark, often causing one
to wonder whether the two islands were really part of the same country.
General Rivai was a compact little man who looked like a soldier
even when he was kitted out for golf. Intelligent and soft-spoken, he gave
the impression of genuinely wishing to find a solution to the problem of
East Timor. But despite his spirit of accommodation, his mind set, alas,
was patterned on what I was soon to mentally docket as the “military mis
sionary” approach to East Timor.
On my subsequent visit to Bali I discovered that Rivai had been
“transferred” to the National Assembly in Jakarta, as part of the military
representation in that august body. While regretting his absence from
37
38 East Timor
Bali, I felt sure that his balanced views would be of benefit to the legis
lature. Rivai’s successors, notably General Damiri, were hard-liners and
were more difficult to deal with.
General Rivai briefed me on the situation in East Timor. He esti
mated that there were about “100 anti-integrationists and a further 3,000
clandestines.” (Later I discovered that the figures were as inaccurate as
the nomenclatures were misleading.) Rivai thought that much of the
unrest in the island could be attributed to the fact that East Timor was
subject to international attention, which in turn encouraged local agita
tors.
He was sure that there would be demonstrations during my visit (in
this, at least, he could not have been more right), but he assured me that
the overwhelming majority of the people were happy as citizens of Indone
sia. He felt that Bishops Belo and Nasciemento were not being as help
ful as they should, and could do much to counter the “manipulation in
East Timor by outsiders.”
When I asked whether he viewed the situation in East Timor as one
of low intensity guerrilla warfare or one of sporadic incidents, Rivai was
evasive in his reply and said that the resistance could easily be eliminated
but that ABRI was exercising considerable restraint. We discussed human
rights issues, and Rivai said that the Indonesian constitution did not per
mit human rights violations.
The Army thus faced a dilemma: restraint was regarded by the East
Timorese as weakness and triggered further provocative actions, which in
turn compelled the army to use force to restore order. Rivai preferred to
use the police for enforcement of law and order, adding that the army was
only used under exceptional conditions, and even in such cases the units
had been “given special training in human rights” and were obliged to
exercise restraint.
Expanding on the theme of the wholly beneficent role played by the
army, Rivai said that the five territorial battalions, which possessed a
significant East Timorese component, were engaged essentially in devel
opment work, and thereby gained popular support. This detracted from
the influence of the “clandestines” and consequently incurred the latter s
opposition. While Rivai was obviously giving me the party line, the unde
niable evidence of material infrastructural development in the territory
clearly supported his assertion, but like everything else in East Timor it
was only the partial truth. Our subsequent discussions gave me the impres
sion that Rivai believed, as an intelligent and observant administrator, that
clearly more was needed in East Timor than roads and buildings.
We arrived in Dili on a hot and sticky morning on March 22 and
East Timor (Marcb-July 1997) 39
advised me, in his usual meticulous fashion, that I should not address
Soares as Governor, since the United Nations did not formally recognize
his authority in the territory.
But I decided to ignore Franceses well-intentioned advice, because
the preening “Governor” was so obviously conscious of his status, and
seemed to be so much enjoying the perks of his office, that I thought it
would add to the pleasantness of our relationship and our work if I allowed
a little expediency to bend the requirements of protocol. A highly con
troversial personality, Soares was a former truck driver, imposed by a dis
tant government in Jakarta in a gesture that most East Timorese, with
good reason, resented as one of contempt.
A big, burly man, with a bearing that was pugnacious, arrogant, and
abrasive, Soares had the reputation of being both brutal and corrupt. But
he was obviously an able manipulator and managed to hold on to his office
till the very end, surviving both the dislike of his own people as well as
Jakarta’s frequent impatience with many of his actions and statements.
Declaring that the people of East Timor were incapable of managing
their own affairs, Soares strongly encouraged migration from the other
provinces. However, he felt that a degree of autonomy for East Timor was
desirable and assured me of his cooperation if the United Nations were
to work toward that end.
This came as no surprise to me, since it implied an augmentation of
his powers. A negotiator does not possess the convenience of selecting his
interlocutors and must deal with the prevalent incumbents. In the case of
Soares, I felt that his role would never be a major one in the decision mak
ing process, but that he could become an effective and unwelcome spoiler.
I accordingly decided to handle him with a distant politeness, fortified by
Bismarck’s observation that “when I estimate the danger that is likely to
accrue to me from my adversary, I first of all subtract the man’s vanity
from his other qualities.”
We met with a series of East Timorese personalities, including Bish
ops Belo and Nasciemento, as well as members of the different political
parties, teachers, students, and a very few distraught women’s represen
tatives. These were emotionally charged, powerful encounters, which left
a profound and sobering impression. Bishop Belo invited us to dinner at
his residence, where the food was simple but the discussion rich and var
ied—the exact opposite of the lavish but vacuous reception at the Gov
ernor’s the previous evening. Belo had invited some priests from his
diocese, both East Timorese and foreigners, from whom we gained dis
turbing and largely accurate information about the state of affairs on the
island.
East Timor (Marcb-July 1997) 41
island, particularly the Special Forces. He thought that the guerrillas had
developed a new strategy, working in small groups and relying on
ambushes. They had also considerably strengthened their contacts with
local groups in the villages and mountains.
Belo said that General Prabowo had also set up militias, and that
Colonel Simbolon, who had local command of operations, reported
directly to Prabowo, often bypassing General Rivai, with whom Belo had
a good relationship. I pointed out to Belo that the idea of a referendum
was so fiercely opposed by Jakarta that its pursuit was unrealistic at the
present time. We discussed the possibility of a wide ranging autonomy,
and the Bishop thought that it could be acceptable if it were an “open”
and not “closed” proposal, meaning a review after a period of time. But
he reiterated the necessity for a reduction of oppression, and the with
drawal of a substantial number of troops.
We made a quick visit by helicopter to Bacau for a brief meeting with
Bishop Basilio de Nascimento, who told us more or less the same things
as Bishop Belo, adding however that in his diocese of Bacau the repres
sion was perhaps less harsh than in other parts of the island. Nascimento
is a most impressive personality, tall, well built, and possessed of a quiet
self-assurance.
His bearing, and particularly his voice, which is a basso profundo,
made me readily visualize him as playing the title role of Boris Godunov
in Rimsky-Korsakov s opera. Nascimento’s prolonged stay in Europe and
not just in Portugal, as in the case of Belo, had expanded his vision, and
he brought to bear on our discussions a wholly welcome degree of sophis
tication and flexibility. His cool, analytical mind did nothing to detract
from the compassion that filled the soul of this admirable cleric.
Bishop Nascimento had been in East Timor for two years, having
spent the previous twenty-five years in Europe. He said that tension in
the territory was sporadic and not continuous, partly because the army
needed it “as a pretext” to justify its massive presence. The people suffered
from despair and disillusion, and the Bishop thought it would be difficult
to find a definitive solution under the present circumstances. The over
whelming military presence made the people feel asphyxiated. It was nec
essary to lower the tension in the territory, and this could only be done
by reducing the military.
When discussing the Indonesian-Portuguese dialogue, Nascimento
said that the two Governments talked past each other. Referring to the
incident in Bangkok, when Prime Minister Guterrez met Suharto, the
Bishop made a most perceptive and interesting observation. He thought
that it had been a mistake for the Portuguese to publicize their proposal.
East Timor (March-July 1997) 43
It was a clash between the Oriental concept of “talk in the shadows” and
the Cartesian mentality of open discussion. The impasse that followed
was the result. W hat was now needed was a thaw in the situation, and
the United Nations could urge the parties to “a path toward a solution.”
I felt that my meetings with the two bishops had been most pro
ductive, and found that both were extremely impressive personalities,
imbued with a sense of understanding, tolerance, and sympathy. There
was no doubt about their knowledge, contacts, and influence over an over
whelming majority of the East Timorese people. From their pained reports
we learned of the repression that continued on the island, and by the ter
ror tactics—some subtle, others less so—employed by the Indonesian army
against the population.
The Bishops had admirably steered their way through the difficult
and dangerous minefield of constant repression and equally constant resis
tance that had for so long characterized life in East Timor. It was also
evident that after over twenty years there was a feeling that some form
of compromise was necessary. While a referendum was still the desired
and expressed goal, I thought that it might be possible to persuade the
Bishops to consider using their extensive influence toward working out
an appropriate package agreement.
Our meetings with the representatives of the different political par
ties and groups took place in my room at the Makhota Hotel on two suc
cessive days. They began in the evenings and worked their way through
smoke-filled hours into the early mornings. These were highly charged,
emotional sessions wherein reports of atrocity, repression, arbitrary impris
onment, torture, and rape were mingled with political demands and dis
cussions regarding the future status of East Timor.
I felt myself looked upon as a Merlin who had descended into their
midst, ready with a wave of the blue UN flag to remove their oppression
and restore their freedom. Their faith in the United Nations, and their
expectations, were as great as they were touching, and left me feeling both
humbled and troubled. Most groups wanted independence, coupled with
the release of Xanana Gusmao, while a few of the moderates were pre
pared to accept an interim period of autonomy.
A very few representatives were pro-integration, and were happy to
leave things as they were. They had clearly been inducted into this process
of consultations with the UN mediator by the local authorities. Their
sleek, smug, and assured appearance was in stark contrast to that of the
other groups, shabbily dressed and carrying gaunt looks and expressions
of desperate hope in their eyes.
On our last day in Dili there was an early morning demonstration
44 East Timor
outside my hotel, with some of the protesters breaking into the premises
and causing some damage to the property. I was much later informed that
they wished to present me with a petition, but saw no signs of that at the
time and would most certainly have accepted it if there had been one.
More likely, the purpose of the demonstration was politically motivated,
designed to call attention to the East Timor issue, an action that I viewed
as entirely legitimate.
The demonstration was put down firmly and quickly, fortunately
without any serious casualty. Despite my pleas to the authorities for
clemency, harsh sentences were imposed on some of the demonstrators.
My subsequent but equally futile attempts with the authorities for a mit
igation of the sentences added considerably to my mortification.
My first visit to East Timor left me with two firm convictions. The
first was, as the Secretary-General had rightly anticipated, that the United
Nations would need to play a strong, proactive role in the quest for a solu
tion. Both the Indonesian and Portuguese Governments were prepared to
support this and participate in serious, constructive negotiations. But the
initiative would need to emanate from, and be constantly maintained and
pursued by, the United Nations.
The second conclusion was that the desperate people of East Timor
had now pinned all their hopes and anticipation on the United Nations,
and appeared pathetically certain that we would have the answers to their
problems. Their faith in the United Nations was absolute, and was exhib
ited in awesome intensity and simplicity. “Upon the king! Let us our lives,
our souls, our debts, our careful wives, our children and our sins lay on
the king!” I did not wish to get melodramatic, but I confess that on the
flight from Dili to Jakarta I found myself crossing oceans and centuries
in empathy with Henry V at Agincourt. By going before the people of East
Timor, we had triggered a manifestation of trust, faith, and hope which
we would now have to justify. It was a sobering thought.
On our return to Jakarta we had some less than productive meet
ings with two of the Indonesian Army’s top brass, Generals Feisal Tan-
jung and Eddy Sudrajat. Their position on East Timor was of the largely
dismissive, “whiff of grapeshot” variety, tempered by a pro forma accep
tance of the United Nations efforts. By contrast, my closing meeting with
Alatas was most useful, and I was able to frankly convey to him the kalei
doscope of impressions that I had gained from my first visit to Indonesia
and East Timor.
As far as the latter was concerned, I said that I was impressed by the
economic and infrastructural investments made in the island by the cen
tral government, but that Jakarta was a long way away from winning the
East Timor (Marcb-July 1997) 45
hearts and minds of the people of East Timor. We agreed that negotia
tions needed to be intensified, and that every effort made to reach an equi
table solution. Alatas agreed to come to New York shortly for a joint
meeting with the Secretary-General and the Portuguese Foreign Minis
ter. This was very satisfactory, and my final discussion with Alex, who
was positive and determined, as always, left me with a sense of cautious
optimism.
We left Indonesia at the end of March 1997, vividly impressed by the
sights and sounds of that vast and colorful nation, of the dynamism of its
people and leaders, and with a fuller notion of the challenges that now
confronted us.
Arnaz, my wife, had accompanied me on this first visit, and would
do so on the succeeding ones. Ably as she fulfilled both roles, she was
always far more than my personal caretaker and traveling companion. Her
beauty and vivacious personality, combined with an admirable intuition
and a sharp sense of perception, made her an instinctive and effective
diplomat. Possessing a resourceful capability for networking, she was quick
to make friends, gaining their confidence with irresistible enthusiasm.
H er obvious delight and relish in the assignment, coupled with a shrewd
and perceptive observation of persons and events, made her the most
invaluable of advisers and companions.
5
The Negotiations
Commence
M a r c h t h r o u g h A u g u s t 1977
H eed not the blind eye, the echoing ear, nor yet the tongue,
but bring to this great debate the test o f reason.
—Parmenides
Kofi Annan’s meetings on June 19, and 20, 1997, with the Foreign
Ministers of Indonesia and Portugal, formed the beginning of the mean
ingful negotiations on East Timor. Both Foreign Ministers were accom
panied by high-level delegations which, combined with the publicity
evoked by the news media, gave a powerful start to the talks. The Secre
tary-General first met individually with each of the Foreign Ministers,
succeeded by a tripartite meeting with the full delegations, and this in
turn was followed by a working lunch hosted by the Secretary-General.
I chaired the afternoon session with the Foreign Ministers, as well
as the morning session on June 20. On the afternoon of the second day,
the Ministers and their delegations had a final formal session with the
Secretary-General, followed by a press conference.
The atmosphere and the circumstances under which the talks com
menced were not exactly propitious. Tension had risen rather sharply in
East Timor in the preceding weeks. The long dormant guerrillas had
recently launched a series of coordinated attacks, and it was not clear
whether this was haphazard or deliberately timed to coincide with the
commencement of negotiations in New York.
In any case, the Indonesian authorities responded vigorously, and
there was a large number of arrests. On the diplomatic front, also, a res-
46
The Negotiations Commence 47
tive differences remained. Alatas made it clear that he first wanted agree
ment on the shape of a final settlement: the discussion could then focus
on the details of that solution. He was prepared to discuss a wide range
of issues, provided that the two sides agreed in advance that the final set
tlement of the problem would be based on “autonomy.”
The Portuguese position was that in the absence of sufficient common
ground to address the core issue of the status of East Timor, Gama at this
stage preferred to tackle short-term issues (mainly improvement of condi
tions inside East Timor) and to seek an “interim” solution (including one
based on some form of self-administration), pending a definitive settlement
of the problem at the appropriate time. Gama also forcefully reiterated that
Portugal had no right to decide on the final status of East Timor: that right
belonged to the East Timorese, and the decision should be theirs.
Prior to their arrival in New York, we presented both Foreign Min
isters with a short Non-Paper, which outlined the manner in which the
Secretary-General proposed to structure the negotiations. Commencing
with the Secretary-Generals view that “there is a clear desire on the part
of the two governments to intensify their efforts aimed at finding a just,
comprehensive, and internationally acceptable solution to the question of
East Timor,” the Non-Paper went on to suggest that the Secretary-Gen
eral and / or his Personal Representative would meet as often as neces
sary, and that day-to-day negotiations would be conducted by designated
teams from the three sides.
The negotiators were to be given full authority to negotiate, ad ref
erendum, and to engage in brainstorming. Frequency of the meetings was
stressed, as was the necessity for confidentiality. In the event, these broad
guidelines were accepted by the Ministers, and the pattern of negotia
tions proceeded in roughly the same fashion.
On the morning of June 19,1997, the Secretary-General held sepa
rate tête-à-tête meetings with Foreign Ministers Jaime Gama and Ali
Alatas. I was not privy to the discussions that took place then, except for
Kofi’s typically modest and laconic whispered comment to me as we went
into the formal session, “It seems okay.”
But, as I said earlier, the body language of each of the Ministers, both
before and after the tête-à-tête, spoke volumes. To say that they each went
in with a scowl and emerged with a smile might be an exaggeration, but
only a slight one. During the early part of the first formal session, each
of the Ministers made a skillful presentation of their respective cases,
which placed on the record their concerns and reservations, but at the same
time thanked the Secretary-General for his efforts and expressed a will
ingness to work for a solution.
The Negotiations Commence 49
orcse into East Timor, cultural, linguistic and religious issues; human
rights and political freedoms; greater Timorization of all aspects of gov
ernment in East Timor; economic and social issues; bilateral relations
between Indonesia and Portugal; and the international verification of
agreements already arrived at, as well as mechanisms for ascertaining the
views of the East Timorese people.
In addition, there was agreement to restart the All Inclusive East
Timorese Dialogue (AIETD). Finally, both governments agreed to show
restraint in their public statements in order to “maintain the positive
atmosphere of the talks”: a very commendable sentiment, which was, alas,
frequently honored in the breach. All this was substantive stuff, and as I
was anxious to get moving on it as soon as possible, I was able to per
suade both governments to accept July 28,1997 as the first date for the
Senior Officials Meeting (SOM), by which time we hoped to supply both
capitals with provisional working papers, and receive from them, in turn,
a list of the participating delegations.
As things turned out, there was a delay—the first of many slippages
which were to dog the course of our subsequent negotiations—so that the
Senior Officials meeting was eventually held from August 4-7, 1997. I
used the intervening period to prepare the working papers in New York,
and for a quick visit to Washington, DC for consultations at the State
Department and on Capitol Hill. Since during this period I also man
aged to acquire, and cope with, a minor cardiac condition, the delay in
convening the SOM meeting proved to be something of a providential
respite.
The importance of the United States’ role in the East Timor crisis,
as in most other international crises for that matter, can never be under
estimated, and I was determined to establish a pragmatic working rela
tionship with Washington. On this first visit I met with Under Secretary
Tom Pickering, a true and old friend and colleague, whom I regard as one
of the most brilliant and versatile diplomats of our era, with Ambassador
Aurelia de Brazael, and other officials of the State Department, as well
as John Shattuck, the indefatigable Assistant Secretary for Human Rights.
I did not on this occasion meet the Assistant Secretary for South East
Asia, Stanley Roth, a formidable personality whose unstinted help and
guidance and decisive approach would later prove to be of paramount
importance in the search for a solution in East Timor.
Not unexpectedly, the United States position on the East Timor
issue, at that point in time, possessed an element of ambivalence. While
the Administration, and particularly the Department of State, was clearly
mindful of its wider geo-strategic responsibilities as far as the unity and
The Negotiations Commence 51
tie, but had been captured, tortured, and executed by the Indonesian forces.
Despite the inquiries that we immediately instituted, we still do not know
the truth of the matter: but there is no doubt that the incident added sub
stantial darkening to the clouds that had foregathered prior to our meet
ing.
The second event was the fallout from the July visit of President
Nelson Mandela of South Africa to Indonesia. The basic purpose of Pres
ident Mandela’s visit to Jakarta was to thank President Suharto and the
government and people of Indonesia for the support that they had ren
dered to Mandela and the African National Congress (ANC) during its
struggle against apartheid. But the emotional issue of East Timor became
a major intrusion, and when Mandela made a public statement calling for
the release of Xanana Gusmao, the side-show overtook the main event,
as so often happens in such cases.
I shall deal with this matter in some detail at a later stage, but suffice
it to say that in July o f1997 the observations and statements that emanated
from all sides after the Mandela visit to Jakarta possessed for us in New
York a Delphic quality, and left the Portuguese and Indonesian delega
tions, each for their own separate reasons, in a state of some confusion
and barely concealed irritation.
Typical of the situation was a later bizarre incident in which a secret
document on Indonesia / East Timor inadvertently found its way from
the South African Department of External Affairs to the desk of the Por
tuguese Ambassador in Pretoria, from whence its contents were made
public. In the resulting furore, the South African Government declared
the Portuguese Ambassador persona non grata, and there was much
recrimination on all sides. Fortunately, we did not permit the incident to
intrude overly on the work of our negotiations, and with good sense pre
vailing all around, the general feelings of outrage and high dudgeon dis
sipated more rapidly than I thought they might.
We commenced the first round of the Senior Officials Meeting in
New York under my chairmanship on August 4, 1997. The delegations
consisted of six or seven members each, most of whom remained the same
throughout the talks that extended over the next two years, and therefore
developed a personal relationship and a camaraderie that became very
agreeable when things went well and provided a safety net of sorts when
things went badly, as they often did. I decided to put no limits on the
quantum of participants, leaving it to the good sense of the delegations
to fix their own numbers.
The rules of business were also kept as flexible as possible, but for
the sake of good order I normally only took statements from and spoke
The Negotiations Commence 53
directly to the two leaders of the respective delegations. The leader of the
Indonesian delegation was Ambassador Nugroho Wisnumurti, Director
General for Political Affairs in the Department of Foreign Affairs, Jakarta,
and the leader of the Portuguese delegation was Ambassador Fernando
Neves, the Director General for Special Political Questions in the Min
istry of Foreign Affairs, Lisbon.
Nugroho Wisnumurti, who had until recently served as the Indone
sian Permanent Representative at the United Nations in New York, was
an old friend and colleague, and a proven expert in multilateral diplomacy.
Fernando Neves had also served in the Portuguese Mission in New York,
and had honed his considerable skills at Brussels, where he had served as
Portuguese Ambassador to the European Union and had also worked in
the Secretariat.
Both Wisnumurti and Neves possessed an impressive command of
the English language, which was a tremendous advantage for the process
of the negotiations. My two interlocutors were therefore not only thor
ough professionals, but were also experts in the specialized field of mul
tilateral diplomacy. This made working with them agreeable for the most
part, sometimes a trifle difficult, but always a fascinating exercise. Although
they possessed different negotiating styles—Neves forceful and focused,
Wisnumurti reticent but implacable—they had quite a lot in common.
Both possessed fine legal minds, were masters of detail, and above
all each was a tough and formidable negotiator. I constantly kept in mind
that, despite the flexibility ostensibly provided to the delegations under
the original understandings, both Neves and Wisnumurti were operating
under considerable political constraints. Apart from accountability to the
highest political level of their respective governments was the caution
imposed by the menacing nature of a watchful and suspicious domestic
public opinion in both capitals.
The atmosphere of our talks was constructive and businesslike, and
the format was a combination of bilaterals and trilaterals. We (the UN
team) met each delegation separately in the mornings and had joint meet
ings with both delegations in the afternoons. This allowed for frank
expressions of sensitive issues in the bilaterals, and the opportunity to
concentrate on the specifics of less difficult issues in the joint sessions.
It also enabled me to assess the strength and sensitivity of a partic
ular issue to each delegation, so that it could be introduced into the tri
laterals in an appropriate manner. Apart from this, the importance of
confidentiality was repeatedly stressed and the commitment not to dis
close the substance of the discussions to the press was reaffirmed.
We agreed on the composition and agenda for the next AIETD meet
54 East Timor
ing, and then went on to discuss possible political arrangements for East
Timor. I gave the delegations two papers, the first one outlining the major
features of various successful and unsuccessful arrangements that could
have relevance to the East Timor situation. The study featured nine cases:
Bhutan and India, Hong Kong and China, Macao and China, Catalonia
and Spain, Eritrea and Ethiopia, the Aaland Islands and Finland, Puerto
Rico and the US, the Federation of St. Kitts and Nevis, and the Autonomous
region in Muslim Mindanao (Philippines).
The second paper summarized the main elements drawn from these
cases, and in submitting it I emphasized that these were merely “food for
thought,” and were not meant to be “proposals” in any sense. Both sides
stressed that their discussion did not prejudice their positions on the issue.
The Portuguese, in particular, underlined that their willingness to look
at these autonomous and other forms of arrangements did not mean that
they were prepared to accept a permanent settlement of the problem with
out the people of East Timor exercising their right to self determination
in a democratic way.
These ideas could at best help devise an “interim” solution pending
final settlement. Predictably, the Portuguese felt that there should be the
widest possible autonomy as a first step toward a long-term solution. On
the other hand, the Indonesians, equally predictably, stressed that they
were only prepared to consider measures to expand the existing auton
omy in East Timor in terms of what would be possible within the con
text of the Indonesian constitution and law on autonomy.
I next took up with the delegations the important issue of preven
tion of escalation of tension on the ground. Both sides felt that this was
an important issue, but came at it from different angles. The Indonesians
said that as long as the threat to stability and security continued in East
Timor, the security forces would continue to take appropriate measures,
and that the onus therefore lay on Portugal and the resistance movement
to ease tensions. The Portuguese argued that it was up to Indonesia to
improve human rights and living conditions in East Timor, and indicated
that in the next round of talks they intended to raise the topics of “demil
itarization” and “human rights and political freedoms.”
In reporting the results of this first SOM meeting to the Secretary-
General, I believed that within the parameters of the political compe
tence and authority of the participants the meeting was a success. It had
kept the ball in play, and may have generated some ideas for the elements
of an eventual agreement. But that was still a long way off, and while the
working level meetings could perform a useful task in identifying the
modalities of a final settlement, the latter would require weapons of much
The Negotiations Commence 55
heavier caliber than those hitherto employed, and our next task should
be the mobilization of the requisite political will at the appropriate deci
sion making level.
I derived a measure of cautious satisfaction from the conclusion of
the first SOM. We had started a process, and done so without spilling
any blood on the carpet of Assistant Secretary-General Alvaro de Soto’s
conference room. But clearly there was much to be done, and we still had
a long way to go. The old Chinese saying, of a journey of a thousand
leagues commencing with one step, appeared to me, at that time, to stress
the ominous rather than the optimistic aspect of the proverb.
6
The Consultations Widen
G e n e v a , P r e t o r i a , V ie n n a a n d
Lon don : A u g u st th ro u g h
N o v e m b e r 1997
Having got the negotiations off to a start in New York, I was eager
to maintain the momentum, and accordingly visited, over the next few
weeks, Geneva, Pretoria, Vienna, and London, before returning to New
York to chair the next SOM meeting. Apart from looking through some
papers on East Timor in the UN offices in Geneva, I had a short but most
pleasant and productive meeting with Mrs. Mary Robinson, who had just
assumed office as High Commissioner for Human Rights.
I suggested to her that although the issue of human rights consti
tuted an essential component of my work, my basic objectives were polit
ical and diplomatic. I judged, therefore, that it would be unproductive for
my political negotiations if I were to imprudently concentrate efforts on
investigations into human rights violations, of which I knew there would
be plenty. The latter, I felt, should come strictly under the purview of the
Human Rights Commission, and would doubtless be handled with the
due diligence and firmness characteristic of the Commission.
56
The Consultations Widen 57
Mary Robinson was in total accord with this procedure and rela
tionships moved smoothly: neither wires nor swords were crossed between
the Department of Political Affairs and the Human Rights Commission
during the course of the East Timor negotiations. Even at the very end,
during the period of the rampage carried out by the militias in East Timor,
Mrs. Robinson curbed her highly justified outrage, and adjusted her activ
ities and her presence in East Timor in accordance with the overall emer
gency priorities set by the Secretary-General.
A meeting at the headquarters of the International Committee of
the Red Cross (ICRC) concluded my visit to Geneva. I was given a full
and comprehensive briefing on the situation and conditions in East Timor.
The ICRC is, of course, a unique organization, impressive in its exper
tise and commitment, with an ubiquitous presence in the trouble spots of
the world. It had an effective presence in East Timor also, and its repre
sentatives had an extensive but balanced perception of the situation on
the ground. I came to rely a great deal on the reports and the counsel of
the ICRC representatives in Jakarta and East Timor.
From Geneva we went to South Africa, where we stayed from August
22 to the 27 on a visit that included an encounter which was probably
one of the most impressive and memorable of my career—a meeting with
President Nelson Mandela. This was, of course, my first visit to South
Africa, in common with so many others who had either excluded them
selves or been excluded by the odious conditionalities of the previous
apartheid regime.
The palpable sense of newfound freedom seemed to have enhanced
the natural beauty and majesty of this vast country, and although signs
of poverty and deprivation were everywhere evident in distressingly large
measure, there was an air of bustling, if sometimes chaotic, optimism
which lifted the spirits of every friendly visitor. Johannesburg, with its
combination of skyscrapers and urban insecurity, seemed no different from
any other megalopolis, but elsewhere there was a spirit of newfound hope,
combined with an understanding of the tremendous problems that faced
the new South Africa, and an evident determination to work toward their
solution.
I recalled a discussion in New York, not too many years earlier, when
a number of us viewed the future of South Africa with the utmost trep
idation, and despairingly wondered what measures the United Nations
could possibly take to cope with a massive blood bath that seemed at that
time to be almost inevitable. This did not occur, of course, and the only
reason why it did not was Nelson Mandela.
Superlatives become superfluous when it comes to describing this
58 East Timor
extraordinary man, and when so much has already been said and written
about him, it would be an impertinence to add anything further. Suffice
it to say that his spirit pervaded the entire land, manifesting itself in the
robust freedom and rambunctious peace that prevailed, and South Africans
of all races and persuasions rightly respected and revered one of the great
est personalities of the century.
Tamrat Samuel accompanied me to our meetings at the Department
of Foreign Affairs in Pretoria for the preliminary discussions, which were
led on the South African side by Abdul Minty, the Director General in
charge of Multilateral Affairs in the Department. Minty had spent years
in exile during the apartheid period and had been an energetic activist
mobilizing international opinion against the government. He was par
ticularly effective in tracing attempts at UN sanctions busting by the
apartheid regime.
During my tenure on the Security Council, I had served as the Coun
cil’s chairman on the South Africa Sanctions Committee, and Minty’s
reports to us proved invaluable in enabling the Committee to take cor
rective measures over actual or intended breaches of sanctions. I once
observed to the members of the Committee that but for the vigilance and
initiatives of Mr. Minty, we could all find ourselves putting in for unem
ployment benefits.
Our talks with Minty provided a most useful background to the South
African position on the East Timor issue. Despite the fact that Suharto had
rendered such substantial support to Mandela and the African National
Congress during the period of apartheid, there remained a very significant
opposition to Indonesia among the South African political parties, on the
subject of East Timor. There were many groups actively working for East
Timorese independence and in an unpleasant rebuke to Jakarta all mem
bers of the South African legislature had boycotted the National Day
reception given by the Indonesian Ambassador.
Part of these feelings could be attributed to the natural desire of a
newly liberated people to support liberation movements everywhere. But
in the case of South Africa, I thought that the neighboring Mozambique
connection entered the equation in significant measure. The linguistic
link between Mozambique, Portugal, and East Timor, combined with the
commonality of the freedom struggle, had found fertile soil in South
Africa. To this could also be added the fact that the issue had evoked the
interest of the formidable Mme. Gracia Machel.
When President Nelson Mandela visited Indonesia in July 1997, the
main purpose of his visit, as already indicated, was essentially a goodwill
gesture of thanks to Suharto and the Indonesian Government for the sub
The Consultations Widen 59
stantial support that the latter had rendered to the ANC during its long
struggle against apartheid. But obviously Mandela’s concern over the East
Timor issue was not going to be suppressed. Apart from discussing the
subject in some detail with Suharto, Mandela not only called for the release
of Xanana Gusmao, but also insisted on meeting with the latter—and got
his way.
There is a report that Suharto at first refused Mandela’s request to
meet Xanana with the question, “Why do you want to meet him? He is
only a common criminal.” When Mandela responded by saying “that is
exactly what they said about me for twenty-five years,” Suharto promptly
and magnanimously responded by arranging for Xanana to be brought
from prison to the State Guest House for an intimate dinner with Man
dela.
I cannot vouch for the veracity of this story, but it has an air of authen
ticity and, if true, has a legendary touch which says much for the caliber of
both Presidents. However it may have been brought about, the fact remains
that Xanana did have a most useful discussion with Mandela in Jakarta,
and that they emerged from the dinner meeting with considerable mutual
respect.
President Mandela received us in his office in Pretoria on August 26,
1997, first in a tête-à-tête with me, followed by a fuller meeting when we
were joined by Foreign Minister Alfred Nzo, Abdul Minty, and Tamrat
Samuel. This, in turn, was followed by a joint press conference. Later,
Tamrat Samuel said to me that meeting Nelson Mandela in person was
probably the most moving and emotional moment in his life. As for me,
I can only say that I was not too far behind Tamrat in his sentiments, and
that on meeting Mandela one immediately realizes that everything that
has been said about him is true. Courteous, soft-spoken, gentle, and with
a quiet sense of humor, he radiated dignity in his person and his bearing.
His eyes are deep set, kind, and thoughtful and expressed in a deep glow
the humane sensitivity that seems to emanate from his personality.
After the usual courtesies, Mandela assured me that his efforts were
entirely in support of the Secretary-General’s initiatives, and that “I am
working completely under the instructions of my boss, Kofi Annan.” Giv
ing an account of his visit to Indonesia, Mandela said that he had urged
Suharto, both in private and in public, to release Xanana Gusmao. Man
dela was extremely impressed by Xanana’s “intelligence and decisiveness”
and felt that our joint efforts should be to secure his release, since his par
ticipation in the process of negotiations was crucial.
During their meeting in Jakarta, Mandela had expressed his doubts
to Xanana about the efficacy of the armed struggle, as it only provided an
60 East Timor
these efforts were necessarily tentative, since the matter was essentially a
bilateral issue between the Governments of Indonesia and Austria.
Although it did not quite become an albatross around my neck, the issue
obviously did nothing to improve the climate surrounding the start of the
negotiations.
The SOM meeting dealt with three main issues. The first was a con
tinuation of the discussions on the “models” and “elements” that might
apply to autonomy in East Timor, and I undertook to provide, at the next
meeting, a comprehensive working paper which would take into account
our current discussions. The second issue was the AIETD, and here we
reached agreement on the guidelines that were to be provided to the del
egates at the conference. The third issue was that of Confidence Build
ing Measures (CBMs).
I proposed that the resistance movement should be persuaded (by
methods to be worked out) to cease all military activity for a period of
three months. If this was done, and peace prevailed generally, then the
Indonesian Government should respond by withdrawing a substantial
number of troops from East Timor at the end of the three-month period
of cease-fire. The process could then be repeated for another three months,
and so on.
The preliminary response, from both sides, was predictably tentative
and cautious, but did not evoke outright rejection. The Portuguese claimed
that they had “no control” over the actions of the resistance (which was
not quite true), and the Indonesians thought that any conditionality on
troop deployment was an infringement of sovereignty, (which would only
be true if the territory in question was not in dispute).
In my report to the Secretary-General I stated that the SOM nego
tiations were conducted in a reasonably friendly, and certainly profes
sional, manner. The atmosphere was somewhat vitiated by the reports of
the East Timorese asylum seekers in the Austrian Embassy, and by the
Portuguese refusal to grant a visa to an Indonesian wishing to attend an
international conference in Lisbon. I added, “Although these are elements
which are either extraneous or peripheral to our main negotiations, we
must continue to expect their ghostly presence, however unwelcome, to
hover over our banquets.”
Following the SOM meeting in New York, we flew to Vienna for the
third session of the AIETD. The Austrian Government had very gener
ously agreed to host this conference, and provided excellent facilities for
this purpose at Schloss Krumbach, situated in the vicinity of Vienna in
a region of almost breathtaking alpine beauty. The essential object of
AIETD was to provide a forum for the East Timorese representatives, of
The Consultations Widen 63
65
66 East Timor
try had already begun to move at a pace and in a direction that would
lead to a rapid diminution of his power and influence, and eventually to
his exile.
I visited Xanana Gusmao in Cipinang prison shortly after my meet
ing with Prabowo. The meeting commenced by a request from Xanana
for a private conversation. I strongly endorsed this request, and after some
anxious hesitation on their part, the prison authorities and the Foreign
Ministry escorting officer left us on our own. Xanana started by saying
that he had reconsidered his previous position as stated to Mandela, and
that he was now prepared to accept exile in South Africa, so that he could
organize his political campaign. However, the proposal for this should
emanate from the United Nations and he would accept it.
Xanana also reiterated his assurance that he wanted to follow a peace
ful, political campaign, and that he had no intention of causing “the
Indonesian military to lose face.” He urged me to convey this to the rel
evant quarters in Jakarta. I welcomed this flexibility and farsighted
approach, and said that I would do my best to convince the Indonesian
authorities of his sincerity. I pointed out to Xanana that the Indonesian
position remained firmly predicated upon the acceptance of integration.
I added that there was reason to believe that East Timor could secure the
broadest measure of autonomy, coupled with troop withdrawals and release
of political prisoners, once the reality of integration was accepted.
One option available to Xanana was to commence negotiations on
this understanding under the aegis of the UN, which would guarantee its
implementation, provide special economic assistance to East Timor, and
ensure through a UN mission that the East Timorese were not abandoned
once an agreement was signed. The other option available to Xanana was
to continue the struggle by military means, implicit with further blood
shed and hardship for his people. Xanana acknowledged this, adding that
he had been “told the same thing by Mandela.”
He queried whether “an interim arrangement” was possible, and I told
him that the Indonesians had categorically opposed the idea. Personally,
I thought that at some stage we might be able to find our way out of the
dilemma, but it would clearly have been inappropriate for me to indicate
even an inkling of this to Xanana at that time. After some deep reflection,
Xanana reiterated that he had “abandoned the military approach” and
pointed out, quite logically, that he would need both time and facilities
“to convince the people," and work for an understanding.
In the ensuing general discussion I expressed admiration for his lead
ership and asked him to take further bold initiatives for peace and for his
people. I said that I had been urging the Indonesian authorities to com
Coming to Grips: The Negotiations Intensify 71
mence a secret dialogue with him, and had been told that something might
commence in the near future. I believed, from my latest talks with the
Indonesian leadership, and particularly with Prabowo, that the Indone
sian authorities were beginning to realize the value of opening a direct
dialogue with Xanana, and that something would soon happen. In this
belief I was, of course, quite wrong, and I was equally mistaken in my
belief that Prabowo and I would be able to continue our critical discus
sions on this subject in Paris the next week.
In Dili I had the usual round of meetings with the civil and mili
tary authorities in the administration, and discerned that the earlier atti
tudes of self-assurance and confidence had been replaced by a sense of
uncertainty and restiveness. In my meetings with the East Timorese lead
ers, I was able to encounter a number of former adherents of integration,
led by Manuel Carascalao, who had just formed a new movement calling
for “reconciliation” and “self-determination.”
A meeting scheduled for thirty minutes went on for over two hours.
T he group bitterly complained about the manner in which integration had
been carried out, and that even when they had supported Indonesia they
had expected integration to come with dignity for the East Timorese.
After years of misrule, they said, “The path of integration has been closed
by injustice.” Nevertheless, they said they favored dialogue and compro
mise rather than confrontation, and their main demand was for the inclu
sion of East Timorese leaders in the process of negotiations.
They also expressed fears for their safety because of the open way in
which they had spoken, and asked for “UN protection.” I knew that their
fears were well-founded, and knew also how frail were my promises to
ensure their security. Haunted by these thoughts, I did not sleep much in
what was left of the night after our meeting ended. The next morning I
spoke in the strongest terms to the military and civil authorities in Dili,
and warned them against taking any measures against those whom I had
met the previous evening. Subsequently I was to learn that my admoni
tion had not prevented retribution, but had only made it less severe.
As always, at all the talks with East Timorese in Dili, the importance
of Xanana and the need for his direct involvement in the process of dia
logue was emphasized. Equally recognized was the importance of Bishop
Belo, whose rocky relationship with the military and the government had
continued unchanged. He drew a gloomy picture of the human rights sit
uation and linked General Prabowo s Special Forces to many of the atroc
ities. The Bishop was also concerned about the alienation of the younger
generation of East Timorese, who were not only increasingly resorting to
violence, but were doing so with the use of more sophisticated weaponry.
72 East Timor
nor could anyone have anticipated the far-sighted and dramatic decision
on East Timor that this unpredictable but remarkable man would take,
and implement, precisely one year later.
The Portuguese response to me, on the fundamental question regard
ing the acceptance of integration, was predictably firm. It was argued quite
logically by Foreign Minister Gama that negotiations were pointless if
one party was required to commence by accepting the maximalist posi
tion of the other. All three Portuguese leaders were quite firm that there
should be no change to the understanding reached in June. They were
equally firm that they could not accept a solution that was not based on
the freely expressed choice of the East Timorese people.
They stressed that Portugal had neither a territorial claim nor a pref
erence for one form of solution over others—full integration, autonomy,
or independence. W hat matters, they insisted, was that the solution was
based on the freely expressed wish of the people. While a referendum
remained Portugal’s basic demand, it continued to stress that it was open
to any suggestion that could satisfy the free choice test. However, pend
ing a final resolution of the problem, which Portugal thought might take
some time, they proposed some interim measures.
This was a three-phased approach which envisaged, in first phase, an
improvement of conditions in East Timor, in the second “interim demo
cratic arrangements” with international monitoring (which could extend
up to ten years), and finally an act of self-determination to settle the prob
lem. Here it was emphasized by President, Prime Minister, and Foreign
Minister alike that they would not insist upon a referendum, provided
the will of the East Timorese people could be ascertained in some impar
tial and internationally acceptable form.
In my response, I indicated that the interim method of dealing with
the issue was anathema to the Indonesians, that it had already been
rejected by them, and that I saw no possibility of convincing them oth
erwise. While agreeing with Jaime Gama that it would not be possible
to revise the understandings reached the previous June, I suggested that
Portugal give assurance to Indonesia that it was ready to work for a per
manent settlement, without at the same time abandoning its position of
principle on the question of self-determination. On the question of inter
est sections, the Portuguese attitude continued to be negative and they
continued to rate reasons of public opinion. I thought this to be some
what specious, but decided to continue our efforts.
During my meeting with Prime Minister Guiterrez, we had the usual
brainstorming session, when we considered various alternatives and pos
sibilities of advancing the negotiations. We discussed the forthcoming
74 East Timor
of us, our first encounter with this extraordinary man. After greeting the
Secretary-General warmly, Habibie immediately launched into an expo
sition of the political and economic strength of Indonesia, reading out a
series of statistical figures from a paper presented to him by a nervous
aide. He then went on to say that Indonesia would shortly be signing an
agreement with the IMF. Turning to the issue of East Timor, Habibie
went into a tirade about the Portuguese, and said that he distrusted them
so much that there was absolutely no point in his meeting with their
Prime Minister.
He thanked the Secretary-General for the efforts made by the UN
to find a solution to the problem, and pointed out that Indonesia had already
shown its goodwill by being willing to establish interest sections in Jakarta
and Lisbon, a gesture which the Portuguese continued to reject. As far as
East Timor was concerned, Jakarta had made considerable efforts to
improve the living conditions of its inhabitants, who had suffered from
years of colonial domination, and that the majority of the people in the
island were aware of this.
The Secretary-General pointed out, gently but firmly, that this mas
sive economic investment had still not changed the political climate, that
Jakarta had not succeeded in winning the hearts and minds of the peo
ple of East Timor, and that a major political problem continued to exist.
The United Nations would therefore continue to seek a just solution, as
it was required to do by the relevant General Assembly and Security
Council resolutions.
This did not go down terribly well with Habibie, but he accepted it
with good grace, especially after Alatas chipped in to say that Indonesia
had always cooperated with the United Nations on this issue. It was
difficult to immediately assess the significance of the meeting, punctu
ated as it was by Habibie’s effervescent, alternating tirades and enthusi
asms. But it was quite clear that Habibie was still very much under
Suharto’s control, and that as far as East Timor was concerned his brief
was very rigorously circumscribed.
That afternoon we went to Admiralty House to meet Prime Minis
ter Guterres, who was assisted by Foreign Minister Jaime Gama and
Ambassador Fernando Neves. The Secretary-General told Guterres that
during our morning meeting Habibie had indicated that Indonesia was
about to sign a new agreement with the IMF. The Prime Minister saw this
as a positive development; though Portugal wanted self-determination for
East Timor, it had no desire to see the people of Indonesia suffer. Gama
added that Portugal had made no attempt to complicate Indonesia’s deal
ings with the IMF, implying that it could have done so if it wished.
Coming to Grips: The Negotiations Intensify 77
78
Negotiations Continue in the Summer o f Discontent 79
peration. The worst hit, of course, was Indonesia, where the hitherto sta
ble rupiah suddenly shot through the roof, as the dramatic signal of a
widespread economic and financial crisis of immense magnitude.
The IMF was again compelled to step in and check the hemorrhage.
The conditionalities, including long overdue measures of fiscal discipline,
imposed by the Fund triggered the now familiar pattern of aggravating
social unrest, which in turn added to the prevalent volatile political sit
uation within the country. The ailing but still autocratic Suharto’s phys
ical health was a matter of obvious concern, but it seemed to me that his
political health was even more precarious, with a prognosis that was far
from reassuring.
Countrywide agitations were leading to a situation that was becom
ing dangerously unpredictable, with Suharto making concessions that were
always too little and too late. I recall contemplating the situation in April
1998, and observed that in the case of East Timor we were dealing with
half an island in an archipelago of sixteen thousand islands, and with a
population of under one million in an overall population of over two hun
dred million. God forbid, but if Indonesia were to implode, then there
was not much that we could do about East Timor.
Mentioning these flights of fancy, at that time, to the Secretary-
General, I said that working on East Timor under these circumstances
was a bit like polishing the dinner silver on the Titanic. Kofi’s response
was a soft chuckle and a quiet, “Well, let’s go on doing it.” O f course,
doomsday scenarios occasionally cross the minds of all negotiators, and I
knew that we had no option except to go on doing what we had com
menced. In this instance, however, I was quite convinced that notwith
standing all the odds, and despite all the civil and social unrest that
prevailed at the time, Indonesia would overcome its difficulties.
This was largely because of the intrinsic nature and civilization of
its people, a characteristic which I had just begun to know, and one which
I admired tremendously. W hat confirmed and added immensely to my
admiration was the fact that the same people, within a few short months,
would defy all doubters and a general international pessimism, would
overcome all obstacles imposed by a prolonged dictatorship and a wrecked
economy, and would go on to hold free, fair, and generally peaceful elec
tions, and commence the process of creating democratic institutions.
It may be necessary to continue this brief diversion reviewing the
chronology of events in Indonesia, in order to place this narrative in per
spective. Contrary to his undertakings given to the IMF for its “rescue
package” in October 1997, Suharto introduced a budget in January 1998,
which, inter alia, increased government spending and subsidies, and left
80 East Timor
tivc manner, so that by the end of the session we had some useful input
to our working paper on autonomy.
I met with Ali Alatas in New York on Mayl6. He was obviously
deeply concerned and preoccupied with events back home in Indonesia,
but we did discuss East Timor in some depth. I stressed to him the need
to reconsider his decision on the AIETD, pointing out that this was the
only organized channel for consultations between the UN and the East
Timorese. If this was to disappear, we would be obliged to intensify our
direct contacts with East Timorese leaders such as Ramos Horta.
Alatas promised to reconsider the matter, but in view of the pre
vailing uncertainty of the situation in Indonesia, we agreed to await devel
opments before embarking on the next phase of negotiations. It was clear
to me, at that time, that the future course of our talks was going to be
largely determined by the evolution of events in Indonesia.
While keeping a troubled eye on the Titanic from distant New York,
I continued to work on the East Timor negotiation process, and decided
to invigorate our autonomy proposal. The paper that we had prepared
and discussed until now had contained the broad outlines of our objec
tives, and I felt that we ought to present to both sides a much more sub
stantive and sophisticated document, which would contain both ideas of
principles as well as details, and would merit serious, in depth discussion.
I felt, with all due respect, that our resources within the Department
of Political Affairs were insufficient for the purpose which I had envis
aged, largely because the document I wanted would need not only legal
expertise and professionalism, but also a full-time effort, which the over
worked officers of the Department could obviously not provide. Vendrell
had the bright idea of entrusting the task to Professor Hurst Hanum of
the Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy at Tufts University in Boston,
and we were most grateful that he accepted the challenging offer.
Hurst Hanum proved to be an ideal choice, for he was not only a
recognized expert on international law, but also had considerable experi
ence in human rights issues. At our first meeting I explained our basic
requirements to Hurst, and within a very short time he produced an excel
lent document, extremely well structured and substantive in content. I
immediately sent copies to Lisbon and Jakarta, and the document became
the basic working paper for our subsequent discussions, with Hurst join
ing in as a participant, providing explanations and drafting amendments.
The paper that we eventually negotiated was so complete, in my view,
that its elements could well form the basic framework of a constitution
for an independent East Timor.
We also pursued our other objective, the release of Xanana Gusmao.
Negotiations Continue in the Summer o f Discontent 85
We did not have to wait too long. Early in June, Alatas called me
from Jakarta to say that he would shortly arrive in New York to deliver
to the Secretary-General “an important proposal” on East Timor, an essen
tial element of which would be a “special autonomous status” for the
region. Alex told me in confidence that he was “seizing a window of oppor
tunity to obtain a consensus among the present Indonesian leadership.”
Given the uncertainty of the prevalent Indonesian political situation,
with its economic hardship and the divergence of opinion generally, his
task could not have been an easy one. I hoped that the proposal would
provide scope for positive negotiations, be worthy of serious considera
tion, and be one which we could convey with credibility to the Portuguese.
An important factor in examining the proposal would obviously be the
involvement of the East Timorese people.
Their position of the resistance had by now been greatly strength
ened, both internally and internationally. W hat form of consultation did
86
The Second Innings 87
Jakarta envisage, and were they prepared to release and negotiate with
Xanana? Stanley Roth had told me that he had met Xanana in prison two
weeks previously, and that the latter continued to display an impressive
objective and statesmanlike attitude.
In a typically friendly meeting with the Secretary-General, Alatas
delivered Habibie’s proposals in the form of a verbal demarche, but later
handed over to us a paper which contained his “Talking Points” and stated:
1. The Indonesian Government is prepared to grant a special sta
tus to East Timor, with wide-ranging autonomy, in the context and
as part of a comprehensive, just and mutually acceptable end-solu-
tion to the question of East Timor. Toward this end, Indonesia is
ready to negotiate the substantive elements o f such a special,
autonomous region of East Timor within the ongoing tripartite
talks under the auspices of the U.N. Secretary-General.
2. Indonesia is of the view that considering the historical, polit
ical, socio-cultural, and geographic factors and conditions per
taining to the East Timor question, the creation of a special,
autonomous province within the unitary Republic of Indonesia
represents the most realistic, viable, and peaceful solution to the
problem. On the other hand, the proposal to conduct a referen
dum would, in view of the long history of bitter strife and blood
shed in the province, only re-open old wounds, re-ignite violent
disputes, and conflict and may even lead to renewed civil war.
3. Indonesia believes that this proposal reflects, once again, the
sincerity and determination with which it has always approached
the peaceful solution of this long standing issue and now expects
the same degree of political will and sincerity to imbue and moti
vate the Portuguese side.
4. A new opportunity is now being provided in order to arrive
at a comprehensive settlement of the question and all sides should
grasp that opportunity and not allow it to be lost because of an
erroneous or speculative assessment of the prevailing situation.
ing the next AIETD in an amended format, and more importantly, the
dates for the next meeting between the Secretary-General and the For
eign Ministers, which we tentatively set for early August.
My session with Prime Minister Guterres was as productive and
pleasant as always. He regarded the Indonesian proposal as a positive
sign, and reiterated Portugal’s readiness to consider it provided that
Indonesia did not ask Portugal to recognize Indonesian sovereignty over
East Timor as a precondition. He also stressed the importance of obtain
ing East Timorese agreement to any settlement.
Guterres added that Portugal had already eased its diplomatic pres
sure on Indonesia, and was prepared to withdraw its reservations about
opening interest sections in Jakarta and Lisbon, and even consider full
normalization of relations, if Indonesia were to take more concrete posi
tive steps, such as the improvement of human rights conditions in East
Timor, and the release of Xanana Gusmao.
On the latter point, the Prime Minister and I were in complete accord,
and I assured him that I would do my best during my forthcoming visit
to Indonesia. My main objective, at this point in time, was to move the
political process forward before it was overtaken by forces on the ground.
President Sampaio thought that the latest Indonesian proposal was
“a very clever one,” and implied that it was an attempt by Alatas to sell
an old idea in a new package. While agreeing with my view that the pre
sent opportunity must be seized, he stressed that everyone must be clear
as to what was being sought. Although he was prepared to give Indone
sia the benefit of the doubt, he said that presenting autonomy as the con
clusion and then embarking on negotiations would not work. He thought
that “we need to engineer” some kind of modalities for a gradual approach,
such as a period of transition when the issue of status would remain sus
pended.
I had a series of meetings with the leaders of the newly formed
umbrella organization of East Timorese, the CNRT, which revealed, to no
great surprise, a very reserved reaction to the Indonesian proposal. There
was profound distrust, and an insistence on concrete evidence of good faith
by the Indonesians, such as the release of Xanana Gusmao. I reassured the
CNRT that no solution on East Timor could be reached without the
involvement and agreement of the East Timorese people, but in order to
avail of the present changed circumstances it was essential that the resis
tance carry out a peaceful political campaign and not resort to violence.
The visit to Lisbon had gone as well as could be expected. I had
anticipated that the Portuguese would maintain their position of princi
ple on the autonomy issue, but I had also hoped that their attitude would
The Second Innings 91
display some flexibility and a realization of the changed and changing cir
cumstances in Indonesia. I was right on both counts, and was particularly
encouraged by the obvious desire in Lisbon for an intensification of nego
tiations and for participation in constructive fashion.
It was a reassuring thought to keep at the back of one’s mind when
talking to the Indonesians in Jakarta. Immediately upon my return to
New York I was confronted with a glitch, unexpected and unwelcome as
glitches always are. Tamrat Samuel told me that he had called Bishop Belo
in Dili to verify the reports of a document being circulated in East Timor
as “Ambassador Marker’s proposal for resolving the question of East
Timor.” The document was the untitled “model,” which we had sent to
Jakarta and Lisbon prior to the May meeting of the Senior Officials in
New York.
Not only was this a most serious breach of the confidentiality under
which our negotiations were proceeding, but worse still, it was a selective
leak which omitted the fundamental caveat that the contents did not in
any way represent a proposal but were only for the purpose “of enriching
the previous discussions.” Even more disturbing was Bishop Belo’s report
that he had received a visit from Governor Abilio Osorio Soares and some
military officers who handed him “a six-page document bearing Ambas
sador Markers signature” and informed him that it was the United
Nations’ proposal for a final settlement of the problem of East Timor and
that “there was no other alternative for people in East Timor but to accept
* . n
As for the first issue, the prevailing political conditions were obvi-
The Second Innings 93
that the UN intensify its direct contacts with the East Timorese of all
political persuasions. This “back channel” consultation could be conducted
by the UN as a way of assessing the views of the East Timorese people.
We were received by President B.J. Habibie in the opulent splendor
of his office, with its regalia of guards, liveried staff, and important look
ing officials scurrying in and out of the vast corridors. The contrast
between this meeting and my first one with his predecessor in the quiet,
shady Suharto residence could not have been more stark. And yet, I
thought to myself, it was the soft-spoken recluse who had the mind set
of the dictator, while the voluble extrovert Habibie possessed the more
liberal temperament and had demonstrated this by a number of measures
that he had already taken, such as removing restraints on the trade unions
and the press.
He recounted these and other similar achievements to me with a
zestful absence of modesty. As often happens in political life, there appears
a leader who has greatness thrust upon him by fate and by circumstances
which are frequently adverse. Habibie was a prime example of this even
tuality, taking office at a time of the most severe national adversity, with
Indonesia in the throes of the worst political, economic, and financial cri
sis that it had known in thirty years.
An intrinsically religious man, Habibie had assumed his responsi
bilities with a profound faith in Allah, and a deep devotion to his coun
try. He exercised his duties with obvious relish which, combined with his
impetuous and often idiosyncratic behavior, gave many the impression that
the ship of state was under somewhat erratic pilotage. But I always thought
that behind the impulsiveness and theatrical gestures that formed such a
prominent feature of his personality, there was a keen, far-seeing mind,
a basically generous and liberal spirit, and a deep and genuine patriotism.
These are the attributes that motivated his profound decision, six
months later, to allow the East Timorese to choose their destiny. And the
decision itself was pronounced in typical Habibie style, dramatic and
impulsive according to his detractors. Dramatic it certainly was, but impul
sive? Could he have done so if he had gone into long, convoluted con
sultations with his multifarious advisers with their diverse opinions?
Or was it more appropriate, once he had instinctively (and correctly)
decided that it would be better for both Indonesia and East Timor for the
latter to freely choose its future, to announce his decision with the full,
unencumbered force of his newly acquired presidential authority?
These are intriguing, speculative questions, to which perhaps only
B.J. Habibie can have the right answer. W hat is beyond question, how
ever, is that the decision was both bold and historic.
The Second Innings 95
W ith President B.J. Habibie, in his usual ebullient form. Left to right, unidentified
Indoncnsian official security officer, J.M ., Ian Martin, Mark Quarterman and Pres
ident Habibie, whose crucial decision in January 1999 expedited the solution of
the East Tim or issue. Photograph: Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Indonesia.
ment. Xanana was true to his word, made his statement with the cheer
ful dignity that only he can display, and we retreated back into the prison,
with sighs of relief from the Indonesian officials, including the Prison
Governor.
Thanks to Xanana, we had made a breakthrough on the important
issue of interest sections, and all that remained now was for the two gov
ernments to complete the formalities, which was done at the Ministerial
meeting in New York two weeks later, and to work out the modalities.
The next hurdle that we faced on this visit was the trip to East Timor.
As I said earlier, the signals were less than propitious. The existing ten
sions were already at a high level, and had been further exacerbated by
the very recent visit of the European Union Troika ambassadors. The For
eign Ministry officials were genuinely concerned about my personal safety,
and did their best to dissuade me from going to East Timor.
Both the pro-independence and the pro-integration groups had
declared their intention to hold demonstrations during my forthcoming
visit to Dili. During our talk in Jakarta, Xanana Gusmao had also
expressed his apprehension about my going to Dili. Bishop Belo called
me from there to advise against my visit, and then made his views dou
bly clear by making a public announcement to that effect.
The press, notably the foreign correspondents, had already sharpened
their pencils and polished their camera lenses and flown off to Dili. I told
Alatas that I was very conscious of his concerns, and did not wish to be
the cause of any disturbance that might damage valuable lives or prop
erty, but I nevertheless did have a duty to perform, and did have to meet
with representatives of the East Timorese people on their territory.
Alex tried to be as helpful as he could, and suggested that I go to
Bali, where he would arrange to ferry any or all of the East Timorese per
sonalities that I wished to meet. From the point of view of personal com
fort and safety, there could not have been a better suggestion, but I had
to remind Alex that I was, after all, the Personal Representative of the
United Nations Secretary-General for East Timor, and that it was there
fore necessary, as a matter of principle, for me to carry out my functions
of consultations on the soil of the territory.
After further discussions with Alex and with Bishop Belo on the
telephone, I suggested that I should go to Baucau, where tensions were
less than in Dili and where I was not expected. In consultation with the
Bishop, we selected the names of the East Timorese that I would meet,
and they duly proceeded to Baucau. Our delegation was provided with a
military aircraft, thanks to Alex’s strenuous efforts, which flew us to Bau
cau, where I spent the entire day in meetings and talk? with the East
100 East Timor
Timorese leaders, who came in their individual capacities, and were com
pelled, for logistical reasons, to leave their respective mobs behind in Dili.
The press, too, duly arrived in Baucau, in time to receive a rather dull
briefing by me, instead of the more newsworthy incendiary reports that
they might have filed from Dili.
Back in Jakarta, I had the accustomed round of stimulating meet
ings with the core group of ambassadors with whom I regularly met. Lav
ish in their hospitality, and generous in the dispensation of their
knowledge and counsel, they invariably provided the greatest of food for
mind and body, returning a fully nourished itinerant back to his place of
duty in New York. In summing up the results of my July visit to Indone
sia, I felt that we were beginning to get somewhere.
The negotiating process was in an operating mode, and was holding
its own despite the uncertainties of the political conditions in Indonesia.
We had managed to extend our elose contacts and ongoing relationship
with the Indonesian administration to the wider range of political par
ties and their leaders. There had been a public display of troop with
drawals from East Timor. Notwithstanding the sleight of hand used in
this exercise, the fact remained that Jakarta had done something in pub
lic which it had consistently refused to do before.
The situation of Xanana, though still in incarceration, had consid
erably improved, both in terms of his accessibility to outside visitors and
in his ability to run affairs in East Timor. Finally, there was the immi
nent prospect of the establishment of interest sections in Jakarta and Lis
bon, thus bringing to an end a diplomatic breach that had lasted for over
twenty years.
I felt that the August meeting of the Secretary-General with the two
Foreign Ministers would provide a fresh impetus to the negotiating
process, would probably add further problems to the ones that we already
had, but at the same time take us on to the next sector of our work. I looked
forward to the continuation of the challenge and its excitement.
10
The Doctor's Dilemma:
The Negotiations Intensify ,
but So Does the Conflict
N e w Y o r k , V ie n n a , a n d L isb o n :
O c t o b e r a n d N o v e m b e r 1998
101
102 East Timor
cial importance. We believe that the East Timorese have the pri
mary responsibility for developing and producing ideas and for
building a consensus amongst themselves. It should not be
expected that ideas and initiatives will come from the United
Nations or the tripartite process alone.
The next Senior Officials’ Meeting took place in New York from
November 19 to 21 with an agenda that included a review of the last A1ETD.
More importantly, there was a continuation of the discussions on the
autonomy proposals, following the consultations that the delegations had
held in their capitals. The talks got off to a good, businesslike start, but
we were soon overwhelmed by events in East Timor.
Political tension had erupted into violence, as I feared it might, and
soon horror stories were being flashed from the island to the rest of the
world. Indonesian security forces had reacted to provocations with feroc
ity, particularly in a small town called Alas, from where there were reports
of harsh and serious human rights violations. The authorities had expelled
reporters and members of NGOs from the area, and sealed off the town.
The resulting international outcry naturally had its impact on our
negotiations, and I fully expected our afternoon session to commence with
strong statements of indignation by the Portuguese delegation. Somewhat
to my surprise and discomfiture, it went well beyond that.
Ambassador Neves called me shortly before the meeting was due to
commence, and said that he was under instructions to stop negotiations
immediately. He said that public opinion in Portugal was so incensed over
what he described as “the new atrocities in East Timor,” that his gov
ernment felt that it could not be seen to be treating with the Indonesian
Government in the prevailing circumstances.
I could understand that it would be awkward for Portugal to be seen
negotiating autonomy proposals in New York with the Indonesians, while
the latter were breaking East Timorese heads in Alas, yet I nevertheless
felt that Lisbon’s decision was both unfortunate and abrupt. My imme
diate response was to tell Fernando that in my book, a crisis is precisely
when negotiations should be intensified, and not abandoned, but since he
was acting under instructions I could understand that there was nothing
he could do.
I next informed Wisnumurti about the Portuguese decision, together
with its reasons, not to attend the afternoon session of SOM. Wisnumurti’s
response was that he was quite ready to pack his suitcase and take the eve
ning flight to Jakarta. I persuaded him to put his travel plans on hold until
I had spoken to Lisbon, and accordingly telephoned Jaime Garna.
I was informed that the Foreign Ministry had already announced
Portugal’s decision not to participate in the ongoing New York talks, and
had done so in response to the public indignation that prevailed in the
country over the incidents in East Timor. We then went back and forth
over the telephone for a while, and I pointed out that since the UN
deplored the violence in East Timor just as much as anyone else, I would,
The Doctor's Dilemma 107
as a matter of course, carry out my own thorough inquiry into the inci
dent, and would designate an official for the purpose.
This assurance, coupled with a strong recommendation on the impor
tance of the continuation of the tripartite talks, appeared to have struck
a responsive chord in Gama’s eminently sensible and pragmatic attitude,
and he agreed to send his delegation back to the table.
I then called Alatas in Jakarta and gave him a run-down of the whole
episode, pointing out that the scale and nature of the violence in East
Timor had made it incumbent upon me to look into the matter, regard
less of what the Portuguese felt or said. Alex was not at all happy either
about the developments, or about my decision, but again displayed an
understanding of the situation, and its wider implications, and accord
ingly instructed his delegation to continue the negotiations.
But we were not yet out of the woods. The Portuguese made a pub
lic announcement to the effect that their decision to suspend the talks had
been justified because it had compelled the UN to send a mission to inves
tigate the incident in Alas. O f course, this was stretching things a bit, and
I would not have minded it too much as far as I was concerned. But the
effect on the Indonesians was predictably provocative.
Alatas responded in an indignant statement to the effect that Jakarta
would never permit a formal UN investigation in Alas. We had thus now
reached the stage of public posturing, with expressions of high dudgeon
emanating from both sides. This was inevitable and I left it to blow over,
while we quietly ushered the two delegations back to serious negotiations
in our airless little room in New York.
At the same time, we issued a press statement which would hope
fully lay the matter to rest. By now, the draft document was beginning to
look purposeful and in reasonable shape. Our attempt was, on the one
hand, to persuade the Indonesians to yield the concessions that would
make autonomy as wide ranging as possible, so that it could be sold to
the East Timorese. On the other hand, we tried to persuade the Por
tuguese to temper their demands to the extent that one could reasonably
expect Jakarta to bear.
We concluded the Senior Officials Meeting with both delegations
taking to their capitals the completed drafts of the autonomy proposals
for final scrutiny and provisional concurrence at the next SOM. We would
then need to take up the all-important and most vexatious question, the
final status of East Timor. At this point in time, Machiavelli s observa
tion was very much in my thoughts. Would there be any limitations on
11
Sailing into the Squall
I n d o n e s ia a n d E a s t T im o r :
D e c e m b e r 1998
Tamrat Samuel visited Indonesia and East Timor in the first week
of December 1998, and presented his usual excellent report, wide rang
ing in content and admirable in its perception. It confirmed my impres
sion that our next visit to the region (Francesc Vendrell was to accompany
me this time) was unlikely to lack interest.
Although he was not allowed to visit the town itself, Tamrat put
together a very succinct account of events in Alas. This was the incident,
it may be recalled, which had caused a suspension in our tripartite nego
tiations in New York earlier in November. It was the usual story of an
escalation of violence, as so often occurs in areas of high tension.
A militant student demonstration got out of hand and provoked a
typically disproportionate military reaction, resulting in about fifteen
deaths and the destruction of houses and property. Alas remained off-lim
its while the army conducted a search for weapons stolen from the local
armory, and the National Human Rights Commission said that it would
carry out an investigation as soon as access to Alas was permitted.
Apart from indicating that tension in East Timor remained very
high, Tamrat also said that skepticism about the autonomy proposal
appeared to have increased considerably. “The Security situation is fur
ther deteriorating,” he reported, and added, “The Peace and Justice Com-
108
Sailing into the Squall 109
mission reports that there has been an overall increase of 22 per cent in
reported human rights violations in nine categories in 1998. There has
been an increase in the number of attacks on the military and on East
Timorese with ties to Indonesia. The radicalization of the youth contin
ues.
“Our concern that moderates like Xanana might soon lose their grip
is beginning to happen, according to Bishop Nasciemento. He said that
the youth were increasingly defying instructions from Xanana and the
guerrillas. A lawless situation is emerging as people take their own action
to settle scores with those that had worked with the military and the intel
ligence....
“Most East Timorese seem to have decided that this is their chance
to free themselves from Indonesian rule. While outsiders and Minister
Alatas talk about a window of opportunity, many in East Timor see in
the present situation a door that has cracked ajar and needs to be pushed
open for a rapid exit before it closes again.”
W ith Tamrat’s realistic assessment usefully stacked in our briefing
dossier, we set off for Jakarta and Dili in mid-December. At our transit
stopover in Singapore, Arnaz had a medical emergency that necessitated
hospitalization, so I left her in the care of the excellent clinical facilities
for which Singapore is justly renowned and the affectionate ministrations
o f our dear friends Tommy and Siew Aing Koh and of Arnaz’s twin sis
ter Aban, who flew in from Karachi.
Arnaz’s indisposition in Singapore was somewhat inauspicious, and
also inconvenient, but it would have complicated matters a great deal
more if the emergency had struck two days later in Dili, where treatment,
if at all available, would have been much less reassuring. She recovered in
time to travel just as I finished my Indonesian trip, and we left Singapore
together to spend Christmas in Karachi.
The reports that we received upon arrival in Jakarta spoke of increas
ing lawlessness and militancy in both Indonesia and East Timor, of the
distribution of arms and the discoveries of arms caches, of inflammatory
statements from leaders of various factions, peppered with sporadic out
breaks of violence.
East Timor seemed to be particularly unsetded, with all sides acquir
ing arms in anticipation of a conflict that they appeared to deem inevitable.
I noted, too, that there was an ominous increase in the sophistication of
ordnance, with machetes and muzzle-loaders being superseded by
grenades and automatic weapons. The prospect of a peaceful transition,
in East Timor at any rate, did not appear to be too bright.
My first meeting in Jakarta was with Major General Zacky Anwar
110 East Timor
turbing. Previous distrust on both sides had by now hardened into antag
onism, and the pro-independence groups, encouraged by the air of ram
bunctious freedom that was now sweeping the rest of Indonesia, were
getting increasingly militant.
There was a plethora of arms and an increasing inclination to use
them, particularly by the East Timorese youth who were “getting out of
control.” The other meetings on that first day in Jakarta were lunch and
dinner sessions with Ambassador Stapleton Roy of the United States and
Ambassador John McCarthy of Australia, respectively. Apart from the
splendid meals, we received from these two good friends the customary
succinct and valuable assessments so necessary for our work.
Reports of the unease and tension in East Timor were supplemented
by perceptive analyses of the current political climate in Indonesia itself.
In turn, I informed them of the present status of the negotiation process,
as well as indicating some ideas on my future strategy. The most imme
diate of these was to work on the release of Xanana, for which objective
I called upon both Ambassadors to deploy the maximum pressure on the
Indonesian Government, both personally and through their governments.
The next day I met Toni Pfanner, the Head of the ICRC Delegation
in Indonesia, together with two of his colleagues who had just returned
from East Timor. Their first-hand accounts of events in the island were
disquieting, particularly in view of their obvious authenticity and objec
tivity, and confirmed the existence of the air of uncertainty and militancy
that had now seized most of East Timor.
Our next appointment was with Xanana Gusmao, with whom we had
a long session in Cipinang Prison. The authorities had by now consider
ably eased constraints, so that Vendrell and I were able to converse with
Xanana in private. I was delighted to see him again, and even more
delighted to find him in such good form. Polite and pleasant, self assured
and dignified as ever, Xanana continued to exude his quiet dynamism.
He emphasized the critical stage of the historic process in which we
all found ourselves at this moment, and expressed disappointment at the
slow progress of the tripartite negotiations, as well as the failure of the
AIETD. I brought Xanana up to date on the status of the negotiations,
and in the ensuing discussions we were told by him that he was prepared
to accept a five-year period for provincial autonomy in East Timor.
Xanana also told us of the feelers that he had extended to General
Zaki Anwar, and Ambassadors Wisnumurti and Lopez da Cruz, in an
attempt to establish a direct political dialogue, but despite some initial
positive signals, no meeting had as yet taken place. Talking of the situa
tion in East Timor, Xanana said that tension had greatly increased, and
112 East Timor
A visit to Xanana Gusmao at his house of detention in Jakarta. Left to right: J.M .,
Xanana and Arnaz Marker. Photograph: Tamrat Samuel, authors collection.
that considerable hostility existed on all sides. He had issued appeals for
calm, and supported the efforts of Bishops Belo and Nasciemento to orga
nize a dialogue between the different East Timorese groups.
Nevertheless, the situation remained tense and volatile. In this con
nection, Xanana told me that he had received reliable reports of a plan to
take me hostage during my visit to Dili. He had issued the strongest
instructions to his followers to ensure my personal security, but he nev
ertheless remained apprehensive. He urged me to remain in my hotel as
much as possible, and not to go out on the evening walks by the seaside,
which I had always enjoyed so much.
That afternoon we took a long drive through the suburbs of Jakarta
to the residence of Abdurrahman Wahid, commonly known by his pop
ular and affectionate honorific, “Gus Dur.” This extraordinary man, who
was reported to have a personal and absolute following of over eighty mil
lion devoted adherents to his organization, lived in a simple Jakarta sub
urban house, situated in the compound of a neat and modest little mosque.
Half-blind and partially paralyzed, he shuffled into the sparsely fur
nished living room on the arm of an aide, and warmly welcomed us, speak
ing in perfect English. As soon as we began our discussion, I was struck
Sailing into the Squall 113
by an awareness of the vast chasm that separated mental agility from phys
ical infirmity in this remarkable person. He possessed a razor sharp mind,
and like many people with weak eyesight, had compensated for one fail
ing faculty by sharpening and developing the other senses, particularly
that of memory.
Possessing vast knowledge on a number of issues, including poli
tics, history, theology, and the arts, Gus Dur was a fascinating inter
locutor, punctuating his discourse with anecdotes replete with a puckish
sense of humor. A bust of Beethoven was almost the only decorative
object in the room, poised in silent testimony to the eclectic good taste
and sophistication of its owner, and in seeming disregard of religious
cant, for statuary is not normally discernible in such close proximity to
a mosque.
In response to my request for an assessment of the current political
situation in Indonesia, Gus Dur made a succinct presentation, analyzing
the causes and reasons for the prevailing uncertainties, and forecasting
the future with a prescience and foresight which subsequent events would
prove to be largely and astonishingly accurate. All this was related with
quiet assurance, a total absence of pomp and rhetoric, and with flashes of
dry humor.
I described the course of our negotiations on East Timor, and Gus
Dur encouraged me to “continue your efforts.” He was pragmatic in his
assertion about drawing Xanana into the negotiating process, and said that
he would do whatever he could to bring this about. On the broader issue
of East Timor itself, he felt that it would be in the interest of all parties
if the East Timorese could have broad ranging autonomy within the
Republic of Indonesia.
This was not an unexpected viewpoint, but his next remark took me
somewhat off guard and sent Vendrell s pencil scurrying over his note pad.
“But if they truly want independence, then why not? Why should we stop
them?”
This was as stimulating a note as any on which to end our fascinat
ing discussion, and we set off on our long road, to return in the dusk, from
the wood-smoke-filled outer suburbs of Jakarta to the neon and monox
ide of the city center. And as we drove back to the hotel, it seemed to me
that this ecological contrast found reflection, in some ways, in the myr
iad thoughts that coursed through my mind after the meeting with Gus
Dur. In Indonesia, contrast is a normal component of coexistence.
We left Jakarta for East Timor on December 18 making the oblig
atory overnight stop in Denpasar for a meeting with Major General Adam
Dhamiri, the Udayana Military Commander. It was not a very satisfac
114 East Timor
The Bishops told me that the excessive presence of the military was
a major source of resentment and conflict, but while they strongly urged
a significant withdrawal of forces, particularly the Kopassus units, they
nevertheless realistically realized the necessity for a modicum of military
deployment for security purposes. They recounted many instances of harsh
treatment and of egregious human rights abuses by the authorities, which
had resulted in widespread fear amongst the East Timorese and an increas
ing hatred of the Indonesian authorities. Finally, they reiterated the obser
vation of others about the increased radicalization that had occurred in
the island, one example of which was the demonstration that was taking
place in Dili even as we spoke.
On the conclusion of this, the last of our meetings, I set off for the
airport, accompanied by Francesc Vendrell and Dino Patti Djalal, the
intelligent and lively Indonesian Foreign Service official who had been
our escorting officer. We set off in a convoy under heavy military escort,
and had not gone very far when we were diverted from the main road onto
a dirt track, because we were told that the normal entrances to the air
port had been blocked by hostile crowds.
Our jeeps bumped their way through the bush and eventually emerged
at the end of the airport runway. But a convoy of six vehicles, most of
which were loaded with fully armed military, is not easy to disguise, and
we were soon spotted and trailed by a number of young men, riding on
motorcycles, waving flags and excitedly chattering into their cell phones.
After streaking across the runway, we made it to the terminal building,
outside which a large crowd of demonstrators had already gathered.
A number of civilians, including some priests and nuns, were urging
restraint on the demonstrators, who at this time were quite peaceful and
merely shouted slogans. However, within half an hour the crowd had
vasdy increased and its mood had become much less benign. Colonel Tono
Suratman, the Dili military commander, had earlier arrived at the airport
and brought with him a substantial military contingent, which now took
up position around the terminal building.
I was a bit disturbed by this, and immediately gave firm orders to
Colonel Suratman that his troops were not to open fire on any account,
no matter what the provocation. I was fairly certain that Suratman’s incli
nations were the same as mine, for he was a cool and professional officer,
with obvious ability and experience in crowd control, and I was therefore
quite certain that he would neither panic nor overreact. Just then our ten
sion was somewhat eased by the arrival of the Merpati plane, which was
scheduled to disembark its Dili bound passengers and board us for our
return to Denpasar.
Sailing into the Squall 117
But the appearance of the aircraft seemed to have further ignited the
feelings of the crowd, who correctly sensed the imminence of the flight
o f their quarry, and attempted to prevent this by making a forceful assault
on the fragile airport barriers, breaking into the terminal building and
spilling onto the apron. Meanwhile, the captain of the Merpati aircraft,
who had taxied toward the terminal building, obviously decided that cop
ing with a hostile reception committee was not an item that was included
in his manual on standard operating procedures.
He prudently guided his aircraft past the terminal, proceeded to the
end of the runway, and took off in a defiant roar. Francesc, Dino, and I,
who had a short while earlier said to each other, “our plane has arrived,”
now made the equally obvious and fatuous observation, “our plane has
left.”
I contacted Colonel Suratnam and suggested that perhaps we might
try to get an army helicopter, but this resourceful officer had already made
the necessary arrangements, and shortly thereafter the craft arrived, tak
ing up station as close to the terminal building as was prudent. Mean
while the demonstrators were milling all over the terminal building and
apron, but had not yet got to the VIP room where we were holed up.
Suratman was as cool and collected as ever, and he and his men,
together with a number of civilians, priests, and nuns, were doing a splen
did job, holding back the demonstrators through peaceful persuasion and
a little gentle shoving. The rest was Keystone Cops. A jeep was brought
to the entrance of the VIP room, we were bundled in, the driver tore his
zig zag way through and past the crowd, and deposited us fifty yards from
the helicopter, whose rotor blades were already turning.
We leapt out of the jeep and made an undignified sprint to the heli
copter, beating our nearest pursuers by a few uncomfortable yards. As the
helicopter lifted off I gave a cheerful wave to our self-invited send-off com
mittee, and they, in turn, returned it in equally cheerful fashion. For bet
ter or for worse, elements of the international press and TV were present
at Dili airport to record our precipitate departure.
The military helicopter took us to Kupang from where, after a brief
layover, we took a commercial flight to Jakarta. Sensing the possibility of
some dramatic, if not lurid, reports of our exit from Dili, I put through
two reassuring calls, one to the Secretary-General in New York and the
other to Arnaz in Singapore. To my companion Francesc Vendrell, I sug
gested that he and I now had material for collaboration on a new Broad
way musical: “Miss East Timor.”
Back in Jakarta, I went through a series of meetings with President
Habibie, Foreign Minister Alatas, Law Minister Muladi, and General
118 East Timor
“Miss East Timor.” A hurried photograph from the helicopter as we made our pre
cipitate departure from Dili. Photograph: author’s collection.
121
122 East Timor
from Indonesia.” The MPR was the highest legislative body in Indone
sia: it was due to be formed after the Indonesian general elections in June,
and was scheduled to hold its first session in August.
At the same time, and on the same occasion, Alatas also announced
the Government’s decision to move Xanana Gusmao from Cipinang
prison to a residence of private detention. This was being done in response
to an appeal from the Secretary-General of the United Nations, in order
to enable Xanana to play an active role in the East Timor negotiations.
I first got this astonishing news through the media, and although I
had anticipated some positive movement on the matter of Xanana’s release,
the announcement of the offer to “release East Timor from Indonesia” took
me by complete surprise. I had been in regular telephonic communica
tion with Alex on a number of topics, and I got the feeling that there was
some major rethinking going on in Jakarta, but I did not imagine that it
would be anything quite so radical. Our attention had hitherto been
entirely focused on the autonomy proposals, which had by now reached
final shape and were awaiting Ministerial approval.
Naturally, I rang up Alex as soon as I saw the wire reports of his Jan
uary 27 announcement, and sought both confirmation and elaboration. I
received both, as well as a request for an early meeting with the Secretary-
General and the Portuguese Foreign Minister. This was set up for Sunday
and Monday, 7 and 8 of February, and was to be preceded by a Senior
Officials Meeting at which we were to finalize the autonomy proposals for
submission to the Secretary-General and the Foreign Ministers.
The SOM text was a reasonably compact document, many elements
of which could be applicable in either an autonomous or independence con
stitution, whichever was adopted. The proposal envisaged the allocation
of external defense, foreign affairs, and currency and finance, to the Indone
sian government. Responsibility for legislation in all other areas was to rest
with the East Timorese, who would set up a Regional Council, elect the
Governor, and nominate members of the Advisory Board of the Govern
ment of the Special Autonomous Region of East Timor (SARET).
The Governor would be elected by the Regional Council from a list
of persons already approved by the President of Indonesia and subject to
his confirmation after the election. The police and judiciary were to be
under the control of SARET, but East Timorese courts were to be sub
ject to the Supreme Court of Indonesia as court of final appeal. The
Indonesian Army (TNI) would be deployed in East Timor for purposes
of external security only, but could be used for internal security “in excep
tional cases” if requested by SARET. The Indonesian flag would continue
to fly over the territory, with SARET having its own coat of arms.
A Dramatic Decision, and an Opportunity Seized 123
Left to right: Foreign M inister Ali Alatas of Indonesia, J.M ., and Foreign M in
ister Jaime Gama of Portugal at a press conference at UN headquarters. T he media
always had a lively interest in East Timor, and did a splendid job in promoting
international attention through bold and scrupulous reporting. U N /DPI Photo
graph by Evan Schneider.
The Habibie proposal was a seed that had fallen on soil that was
already rich and fertile. Thanks to Kofi Annans foresight and initiative,
the UN had in position an active, ongoing process of negotiations over
East Timor. So that when Alatas brought the project to New York we
were ready to run with the ball, so to speak, and did not have to scurry
around in search of plans and players to move it forward.
The Secretary-General’s initiative thus played a dual role, as an
incentive for settlement as well as a framework for final agreement. The
problems that now confronted us were likewise twofold, the first being to
further the diplomatic process, and the second, much more serious, being
to cope with the deteriorating security situation in the territory.
132
Substantive Progress; Ominous Signals 133
The former, diplomatic issue was dealt with on the basis of the Sec-
retary-General’s suggestion during the meeting of February 7. We drafted
an agreement, which maintained the basic positions of both sides, but
nevertheless agreed that the autonomy proposals be submitted to the East
Timorese for acceptance or rejection. In the event of acceptance, the
Indonesian government would take the necessary measures for the incor
poration of East Timor into the Republic, and in the event of rejection
Indonesia would take the requisite measures to restore East Timor to its
former status of Non-Self-Governing Territory. The method of consul
tation was left to the United Nations. The relevant portions of the text
o f the Agreement stated as follows:
Having studied the draft constitutional framework for a wide-
ranging autonomy regime for East Timor attached hereto as an
annex:
Taking into account the position of the Government of Indone
sia that the proposed wide-ranging autonomy regime can be imple
mented only as a permanent regime with full recognition of
Indonesian sovereignty over East Timor;
Taking into account the position of the Government of Portu
gal that the proposed wide-ranging autonomy regime should be a
transitional regime, not requiring acknowledgment of Indonesian
sovereignty over East Timor or the removal of East Timor from
the United Nations list of Non Self Governing Territories, pend
ing a final decision on the status of East Timor by the East Tim
orese people through an act of self-determination under United
Nations auspices;
eign Ministers in New York in March. This decision met the Portuguese
demand that the consultations should be democratic and universal, while
by designating the ballot as a “popular consultation” we overcame the
Indonesian objection to the use of the term referendum.
During my earlier talks with Bishops Belo and Nasciemento, we had
discussed the idea of setting up a “Committee for Peace, Stability, and
Reconciliation” in East Timor, composed, inter alia, of Xanana Gusmao,
the two Bishops, and the local Indonesian civilian and military authori
ties. Following a decision in New York we did, in fact, set up such a com
mittee. But as later events were to show, it was skillfully hijacked by
Wiranto, whose effective manipulation turned a potentially very useful
institution into an ineffective body.
To return to the subject of the modalities for the “popular consulta
tion” process, it was obvious that the United Nations would be responsi
ble for devising and implementing the procedures, which we would then
present to both governments for their approval. But before we did so I
deemed it necessary to obtain agreement on the form of the question that
was to be put to the East Timorese.
The issue generated considerable discussion, which could have become
quite heated, but for the level-headed directions of Ministers Alatas and
Gama. In the end, it was decided that the East Timorese would be asked
to choose between two carefully phrased options: “Do you accept the pro
posed special autonomy for East Timor within the Unitary State of
Indonesia?” or “Do you reject the proposed special autonomy for East
Timor, leading to East Timor’s separation from Indonesia?” In other
words, the ballot paper not only offered a choice to the East Timor voter,
but also clearly indicated the consequence of that choice.
On this note of substantive progress, the two ministers left for their
capitals, with an understanding to reconvene in New York in early April
in order to finalize the agreement. In the meanwhile, we got busy in two
directions. I was getting increasingly concerned about the situation on the
ground in East Timor, and we accordingly sent a mission, led by Tamrat
Samuel, to the region, in order to assess and evaluate our requirements
for organizing the consultation process, and equally importantly to assess
whether the security situation would enable us to do our job.
In New York, we got cracking on the political and administrative
requirements for our new task: the Security Council was to be briefed,
personnel were to be selected, and budget allocations made. Our consul
tations with the Core Group of the Friends of the Secretary-General for
East Timor assumed new levels of intensity and, thanks to the unstinted
and enthusiastic cooperation of its members, of productivity.
136 East Timor
Tamrat s report, on return from Jakarta, was, as usual, clear and per
ceptive: it was also disturbing.
The process that for years moved sluggishly is now in danger of
being overtaken by events that are proving very difficult to keep
pace with. Absent a defined course for the remainder of the diplo
matic process, the heightened sense of uncertainty in East Timor,
combined with the continued fluidity of the political situation in
Indonesia, could easily translate into an unguided and quite pos
sibly violent transition in East Timor.
During this period, there was a bizarre contrast between the over
seas messages and the internal working papers that crossed my desk. The
latter reflected the full steam ahead approach to post agreement prepara
tions, confident in the realistic anticipation that an accord would soon be
forthcoming. Yet, on the other hand, the telegrams and news items from
Jakarta and Dili carried constant and alarming reports about the deteri
orating security situation in the region.
The increased belligerence of the pro-integration groups was attrib
Substantive Progress; Ominous Signals 137
uted to the support and the arms which they were receiving from ABRI,
and while the pro-independence groups were generally following Xanana’s
call for restraint, there was still a great deal of combat on the island. My
frequent telephone calls to Alex in Jakarta generally covered two issues:
the more agreeable aspect was discussions on matters that progressed our
diplomatic negotiations; the less pleasant were the protests about the esca
lating violence.
I felt that it was imperative that law and order be rapidly restored in
East Timor, as otherwise we could find ourselves in the ridiculous situa
tion of possessing an agreement but lacking the ability to implement it
on the ground. This was truly a case of the best of times and the worst
of times.
The next meeting between the Secretary-General and the Foreign
Ministers of Indonesia and Portugal was scheduled to be held in New York
on March 10 at which time it was expected that the autonomy proposal
text would be approved by both sides, and we could begin discussions on
a final agreement. However, this was not to be.
Some disquieting reports from Jakarta had begun to trickle in. Habi
bie’s proposal had already been quite a hornet’s nest, and now the reve
lation of the text of the autonomy proposal, with its wide-ranging
concessions, had added further sting to the apiarian infliction. There were
dark, but unconfirmed, reports of a stormy cabinet meeting at which Alatas
had been quite unfairly accused of giving away the store.
So when I got a phone call from the Indonesian mission in New York
informing me that the Foreign Minister wished to meet me, before the
start of the Tripartite Meeting, in order to discuss an important matter,
I had an inkling of what it was likely to be. At a tête-à-tête breakfast at
his hotel the next morning, Alex told me that at a meeting in Jakarta three
days earlier the Cabinet had thoroughly discussed the autonomy propos
als and had raised a number of serious “and quite valid” objections.
The text was accordingly being reworked in Jakarta and would be
submitted to us in a couple of weeks. Alex went on to emphasize that
there had been no change in his government’s basic position regarding
the popular consultation proposal, and that they were anxious to get the
process going as soon as possible.
Clearly, a postponement at this late stage would not go down very
well. The Portuguese were on tenterhooks and could react adversely to a
perception that confirmed their darkest suspicions. The media, too, was
poised for an announcement, and a postponement would provide them
with a field-day for speculation. Nevertheless, I could appreciate the rea
soning that compelled the Indonesian request.
138 East Timor
It was not spelled out by Alex, but I knew that I could count on our
years of friendship and understanding to speak frankly and spell it out to
him. I expressed my appreciation of the fact that during the long and
arduous negotiations over the autonomy proposals, which had taken place
well before the Habibie offer, the Indonesian delegation had made con
cessions, frequently at my request, in order to make the autonomy as wide
ranging as possible. This was done in order to make the package attrac
tive, and therefore salable, to the East Timorese.
Now that the circumstances had changed and the Indonesian offer
of “the second option” was on the table, Jakarta might well find itself in
the unenviable position of losing East Timor and being left with a rejected
but nevertheless liberal autonomy document on its hands. And regions
like Aceh and Irian Jaya might be tempted to demand from Jakarta the
same special offer that had been made to the East Timorese.
I could, therefore, well understand the concerns of the Indonesian
Cabinet. Habibie and Alatas had made a bold and far-reaching proposal,
and Alex’s expression of their continued commitment to it was most reas
suring. It would therefore be imprudent on the part of any of us to com
plicate Habibie’s task any further by insisting on adherence to the
negotiated wide-ranging autonomy document.
I immediately reported the gist of my talk with Alatas to the Secre
tary-General. After approving my action, he decided that we should
inform the Portuguese, and that we should avail of the presence of both
Foreign Ministers to explore the modalities and requirements of the con
sultation process. We took the position that since the autonomy docu
ment was now basically a trigger mechanism for activating the “popular
consultation,” there was no merit in tinkering with the details. Jaime
Gama, calm and pragmatic as ever, said that as long as the UN could go
ahead with administering the ballot, Portugal had no intention of hold
ing up an agreement over the text of the autonomy proposal.
The Trilateral meetings between the Secretary-General and the For
eign Ministers of Indonesia and Portugal, together with their delegations,
on March 10 and 11,1999, did not produce any concrete results that the
media could convey to the general public. And yet, judging by the
exchanges that took place, the sessions were exemplary in terms of quiet,
productive diplomacy.
Alatas presented a frank and lucid analysis of the political situation
that prevailed in Indonesia: “We already have thirty-eight political par
ties, there may be more, and some are likely to form coalitions. But nobody
can predict the outcome of the June elections.” We discussed the ways,
means, and possibilities of synchronizing our joint objective of organiz
Substantive Progress; Ominous Signals 139
ing the ballot process in the climate and context of a rapidly changing
and constantly evolving political situation within Indonesia. We had some
useful preliminary discussions on the requirements and procedures for the
education and familiarization of voters, on the Indonesian electoral sys
tem, and on the electoral infrastructure of East Timor.
Most important of all, we discussed the security issue, and expressed
in the strongest terms our concerns over a matter which was obviously
central to the whole exercise. The suggestion of a UN presence for secu
rity purposes was indignantly rejected by Alatas, who argued forcefully
that this was a matter of national honor and sovereignty, since security
was a function that was intrinsically Indonesia’s responsibility.
A UN military presence in East Timor, before the balloting, would
imply Jakarta’s relinquishment of sovereignty over East Timor even before
the votes were cast. These were powerful arguments, but as later events
were to so tragically demonstrate, the powerful assertions of responsibil
ity in the council chambers were not matched by an equally powerful exe
cution of responsibility in the field.
The issue of security, which had loomed darkly in the background
over the last several months, was brought to the fore in the March 1999
Tripartite meeting. Henceforth the problem would increasingly dominate
our considerations, posing dilemmas of compulsion and resistance, and
leading to an outcome that should never have been as tragic as it even
tually became.
At the conclusion of the Tripartite Ministerial meeting in New York
on March 11,1999, the Secretary-General told a crowded press confer
ence, after thanking the two Foreign Ministers for their presence and the
co-operative spirit that they displayed, that:
A. We have just completed a very positive and constructive round
of talks, at which the main issues discussed were, 1) the autonomy
proposal for East Timor and its finalisation, 2) the method of con
sulting the people of East Timor on the autonomy proposal, and
3) the situation in East Timor.
B. Foreign Minister Alatas informed the meeting that he will
convey to the tripartite forum Indonesia’s revisions to the auton
omy plan as soon as these are completed.
C. On the means of consulting the East Timorese people, the
meeting has reached agreement that a method of direct ballot will
be used to ask the people of East Timor whether they accept or
reject the autonomy proposal. The specific modalities of how the
popular consultation will be carried out are being worked out.
D. Members of my Personal Representative’s team will soon be
visiting Jakarta, East Timor, and Lisbon to continue the process
of consulting the East Timorese leaders and personalities.
E. While the situation in East Timor remains a matter of con-
140 East Timor
only by direct demarches to Jakarta, but also through the Core Group
nations, with whose representatives we shared the contents of the Mis
sion’s report. Madeleine Albright, the U.S. Secretary of State, visited
Jakarta in early April, and in a forceful meeting with Habibie, demanded
that he improve the law and order situation in East Timor, while Stan
ley Roth followed this up by a public statement calling for the disarma
ment of the militia.
While all this was going on, the Indonesian military and militia,
who were never less than themselves, once again provided two instances
of their extraordinary faculty for thumping the football into their own
goal. Both events would appear to be incredible, in the light of the pre
vailing circumstances.
On April 6, the church in Liquica, where over two thousand people
had taken shelter, was ruthlessly attacked by the militia, resulting in about
fifty deaths and a large number of injuries. This wanton massacre, which
was witnessed by Indonesian troops and police, who remained callously
indifferent, had repercussions throughout the world. The Secretary-Gen-
eral issued a strong message of condemnation, as did President Clinton,
who called upon President Habibie to take stem measures to control the
militia.
When I visited the Liquica church a few weeks later, the effects of
the attack were very much in evidence in the damaged building, but the
refugees, while still in an obvious state of shock, had pulled themselves
together and organized a defense system which, though rudimentary in
effect, was impressive in terms of morale and symbolism.
Hard on the heels of the Liquica massacre, there followed a similar
attack by the militia in Dili on April 17. A rally by pro-integration mili
tia outside the Governor’s office led to a rampage in which a number of
people were killed, and many houses burned. The Foreign Minister of
Ireland, Mr. David Andrews, was visiting Dili at the time, as a represen
tative of the European Union. He not only witnessed the incident, but
was also a victim of its effects, and observed the complicit inaction of the
Indonesian security forces.
His subsequent report, conveyed in justifiable terms of indignation
to Habibie and Alatas in Jakarta, added considerable weight to the inter
national concern that was now being expressed. As a result, General
Wiranto flew to Dili and arranged for representatives of the pro-inde-
pendence and pro-integration groups to get together and sign a “peace
accord,” which Wiranto also signed as a witness.
The gesture was obviously designed to placate international opin
ion, and did not produce any appreciable effects on the situation on the
142 East Timor
The church of Liquicia, and the refugees who took shelter there. Note the breast
work of stones and thatch which the occupants built in their successful defense
against militia attacks. Photograph by Arnaz Marker.
144
Agreement Between Indonesia and Portugal 145
was not for the first time, and perhaps also not for the last, that the coura
geous Kofi would commence operations under a Damocles’ sword. His
personal initiatives, attention, and interest were the main reasons why
UNAMET got going in such short record time.
Paragraph B of the Modalities Agreement contained the carefully
negotiated form and text of the question that would be put to the East
Timorese voters:
“Do you ACCEPT the proposed special autonomy for East Timor
within the Unitary State of the Republic of Indonesia?” ACCEPT
OR
“Do you REJECT the proposed autonomy for East Timor, lead
ing to East Timor’s separation from Indonesia?” REJECT
The United Nations logo would appear on the ballot paper, which
would also bear symbols to facilitate voting by illiterate persons.
Paragraph C of the Modalities Agreement concerned voting enti
tlement. The minimum age was fixed at seventeen years, and eligibility
was extended to those born in East Timor, those born outside East Timor
but with at least one parent born in East Timor, or those whose spouses
fell into either of these two categories.
We felt that we had negotiated a pretty watertight qualification
requirement, until we received reports from Lisbon on polling day indi
cating that a number of obviously European Portuguese had ingeniously
discovered that their ancestral or other connections had conferred voting
qualifications, and had accordingly cast their votes. Fortunately, their
numbers were very few, and Ambassador Neves told me, with obvious sin
cerity and regret, that their action, though legally permissible, was morally
unacceptable.
Paragraph D of the Modalities Agreement drew up a schedule of the
consultation process, and set up dates for the procedure, commencing with
Operation/Planning on May 15 and concluding with the Polling Day on
August 8. For reasons beyond our control, as will subsequently become
evident, there was considerable slippage in these dates.
An elaborate Information Campaign was devised, with the UN mak
ing available the text of the Main Agreement and the Autonomy Docu
ment in four languages—Tetun, Bahasa Indonesia, English, and Portuguese
—and arranging for it to be widely disseminated and explained to the vot
ers, and utilizing all outlets, including radio stations. Two hundred reg
istration centers were to be established by the UN in East Timor, as well
as a number in selected cities in Indonesia, Portugal, Australia, Mozam
bique, and Macau.
Registration would take place over a continuous twenty-day period,
Agreement Between Indonesia and Portugal 149
Y ou*- V o te s isy
One Result
anmmcedonly by th&UtJ
and the usual provisions were made for the display of registration lists,
and challenges thereto. As for the ballot, it was specified that voting would
take place simultaneously, in 700 polling stations located in 200 centers
in East Timor, and in the designated centers elsewhere.
A Code of Conduct for the campaign was devised, and it was agreed
that Observers from Indonesia and Portugal, in equal numbers, as well as
from various international NGOs would be present. In a significant depar
ture from normal practice for such an exercise, the Secretary-General
appointed an Electoral Commission, consisting of three eminent inter
national jurists with experience of political conflict.
They were Judge Johann Kreigler of South Africa (Chairman of the
Electoral Commission), Judge Pat Bradley (former Chief Electoral Officer
for Northern Ireland), and Judge Bong-Seuk Sonh (Commissioner of the
National Electoral Commission of the Republic of South Korea).
The Electoral Commission was a totally independent body and was
to function as the final authority on all electoral matters, including com
plaints, challenges, and any other disputes. It was also the certifying body
for each stage of the electoral process, and was responsible for conveying
the final certified results of the popular consultation to the Secretary-
General. The Electoral Commission’s functions were to be fully inde
pendent of both UNAMET and New York.
Finally, paragraph G of the Modalities Agreement stipulated that “the
Indonesian authorities will ensure a secure environment for a free and fair
popular consultation process and will be responsible for the security of the
United Nations personnel. A number of United Nations security guards will
be deployed to ensure the security and safety of United Nations personnel
and property. A number of international civilian police will be available in
East Timor to advise the Indonesian Police during the operational phases
of the popular consultation and, at the time of the consultation, to super
vise the escort of ballot papers and boxes to and from the polling sites.”
The second supplementary Agreement related exclusively to the secu
rity aspect, and is quoted below in full, since it had such an important
bearing on subsequent events
The Governments of Indonesia and Portugal and the Secretary-
General of the United Nations agree as follows:
1. A secure environment devoid of violence and other forms of
intimidation is a prerequisite for the holding of a free and fair bal
lot in East Timor. Responsibility to ensure such an environment
as well for the general maintenance of law and order rests with the
appropriate Indonesian security authorities. The absolute neu
trality of the TN I (Indonesian Armed Forces) and the Indonesian
Police is essential in this regard.
Agreement Between Indonesia and Portugal 151
The receipt of this letter from the Secretary-General was not formally
acknowledged by President Habibie, and Alatas informed me verbally that
its contents were not acceptable to his government. This was not very sat
isfactory from our point of view, but even though we obviously had no way
o f forcing the epistle down the throat of the Indonesian Government, we
knew, at least, that our concerns had been conveyed in unmistakable fash
ion, to serve as our implicit guidelines for assessing security needs.
By the last week in April we were in the final stretch of the negoti
ating process, with the Australian, US, and UK Governments taking the
lead in this flurry of diplomatic activity. On April 27, following a meet
ing in Bali between Australian Prime Minister Howard and President
Habibie, we were informed by Ambassador Penny Wensley that Habibie
had accepted, in toto, the three draft agreements that Alatas had brought
from New York.
This oral communication was followed up by a substantive aide mem-
oire, which, after expressing concern over Portugal’s tentative suggestion
o f revisiting the security issue, suggested a number of measures. It acknowl
edged that the agreement as it stood had significant shortcomings, but
warned that reopening the security annex at this juncture could unravel
the entire process by inviting obvious Indonesian rejection, thereby risk
ing increased volatility in East Timor.
On the issue of military observers, the Australians felt that since the
question was not taken up during the trilateral discussions, the Indone
sians would be “expected to respond with some indignation that the UN
has moved the goal posts.” The aide memoire then went on to convey the
cautionary advice that “we know from the Prime Ministers discussions
at the Bali summit that there is very strong resistance within the Indone
sian Government to any UN military deployment to East Timor before
the consultation process.” It suggested, therefore, that the UN should
“outline in clear terms to Indonesia a set of clear expectations in terms of
the signature of the agreement.”
The Australian aide memoire also indicated that Howard had per
suaded Habibie to bump up the UN civilian police component (CIVPOL)
from thirty to three hundred police officers, and that Australia was pre
pared to make “a significant contribution to this force.” Finally, after issu
ing one last warning about the perils of a delay in the proposed ballot date
154 East Timor
noon and the following morning, by which time agreement was reached
on the texts of all three Agreements.
This was only to be expected, since there was already a basic accord
on the drafts. Nevertheless, we did have a further discussion on the secu
rity issue. Alatas continued his fierce resistance to any specificity with
regard to troop dispositions, and even audaciously proposed the inclusion
of a definitive date by which the Secretary-General commit to the com
mencement of the electoral process. But we remained firm in our insis
tence on flexibility, and on the Secretary-General’s right to take the final
decision based upon his assessment of the prevailing security considera
tions.
The formal documents were then drawn up, and the three Agree
ments were signed, at a simple ceremony at the UN Press Center, by For
eign Ministers Gama and Alatas, and by the Secretary-General, who then
made a brief statement:
This is a historic moment. I am delighted to tell you that we have
just signed three Agreements on East Timor between the Repub
lic of Indonesia and the Republic of Portugal.
There is a Basic Agreement and two supplementary ones: one
covering the security arrangements for the peaceful implementa
tion of the popular consultation, and the other the modalities for
this consultation.
As they have done throughout the negotiations, my good friends
Ali Alatas and Jaime Gama have shown an exemplary spirit of
cooperation and statesmanship. I am very grateful to them both,
as I believe the whole international community should be, and in
particular the people of East Timor itself.
Agreement Between Indonesia and Portugal 157
Ali Alatas and Jaime Gama next made brief statements acknowl
edging the historic importance of the occasion, and assuring full support
of their respective governments for the implementation of the Agree
ments. They were also kind enough to express their appreciation for the
efforts of the Secretary-General and his staff. During the press confer
ence that followed, there were some expressions of apprehension that the
vital issue of security had been entrusted solely to the Indonesian gov
ernment. Alatas responded with the indignant assertion that the govern
ment of Indonesia was serious about the responsibility that it assumed,
and would ensure a situation of peace and tranquility.
On May 6 ,1 reported first to the Security Council, and then to the
Secretary-General’s Support Group on East Timor, in more or less the
same terms, on the details and implications of the May 5 Agreements.
To the Security Council, I said:
“The Security Council is today seized of an issue which has been
on its agenda for some twenty-three years, and which over the past
sixteen years had been the subject of discussion between the Gov
ernments of Indonesia and Portugal through the good offices of
the Secretary-General.
Mr, President, I am pleased to be able to report to the Council
158 East Timor
Peace is not only better than war, but infinitely more arduous.
—George Bernard Shaw
161
162 East Timor
and they had just provided further proof of this by turning down my
request to establish a military field hospital in Dili for the exclusive use
o f UNAMET personnel.
The problem here was that civilian field hospitals simply did not
exist, and the only field hospitals available anywhere in the world were
military units. I was extremely concerned about leaving the dedicated
UNAMET personnel without adequate medical cover. Evacuation to Dar
win was an alternative, but not an answer, to the problem.
In spite of all my urging, Jakarta did not make an immediate excep
tion and it was not till several anxious weeks later that we were able to
get an agreement for our field hospital. The omens for obtaining military
observers for UNAMET were not, therefore, very propitious, especially
since the East Timor Agreements contained no reference to their inclu
sion. Nevertheless, I decided to raise the matter with Jakarta, and started
with a delicate probe, suggesting the desirability of establishing a direct
line of communication between UNAMET and TNI, on the basis “of
soldier to soldier,” in order to maintain and improve liaison.
Following a series of importuning meetings and telephone calls to
Alatas and Wiranto, the Indonesians generously overcame their neural
gic aversion to the issue, and we were able to hammer out an agreement
for the appointment of fifty “Military Liaison Officers” (MLOs) to the
staff of UNAMET, who would work directly with their counterparts in
the TNI.
The designation “Military Liaison Officer,” instead of the conven
tional “Military Observer,” was the diplomatic face-saver that enabled us
to get the project going. The Chief Military Liaison Officer (CMLO),
was Brigadier Rezaqul Haider of Bangladesh, a tough, forthright, resource
ful, and courageous officer, who did a truly splendid job, under the most
trying and demanding conditions. I considered myself honored and for
tunate to have known him as a friend and colleague.
UNAMET was established with a rapidity that was unprecedented
in United Nations annals. As I said before, this was in large part due to
the interest and encouragement displayed by Kofi Annan personally, and
now backed by the formidable organizational talents and brusque initia
tives of Louise Frechette, the Deputy Secretary-General. The whirlwind
staff meetings that she chaired at UN headquarters in New York triggered
a flood of personnel and equipment from all parts of the globe to the tiny
island of East Timor.
The Australians were the first to jump in with aircraft, helicopters,
and jeeps. From the UN’s logistical base in Brindisi, Italy, a fleet of giant
Russian Antonov aircraft ferried vast quantities of technical equipment,
164 East Timor
transport, and supplies. And the Japanese sent in trucks, vehicles, and
communications material, including a large number of transistor radios
for carrying UNAMET’s message throughout the island.
In addition to the personnel for staff and headquarters duties,
UNAMET rapidly recruited, under the UN Volunteer Program, the four
hundred District Electoral Officers (DEOs) that were so urgently needed.
Most of these remarkable women and men, coming from seventy-three
different countries, already possessed previous UN electoral experience,
and readily adapted to the spartan living conditions in the districts of
East Timor. Most importantly, UNAMET set up an office and staging
post in Darwin, Australia, which was used for pre-deployment training
of personnel, as well as a base for storage and back up facilities.
On June 4,1999, Ian Martin raised the United Nations flag at UN
headquarters in Dili, and our staff took up office in the very suitable
premises provided by the Indonesian authorities. Ians extremely compe
tent team of senior advisers consisted of Chief Military Liaison Officer
Brigadier Rezaqul Haider (Bangladesh), Police Commissioner Alan Mills
(Australia), Chief Electoral Officer Jeff Fischer (US), Chief Political
Officer Beng Yong Chew (Singapore), Chief Administrative Officer
Johannes Wortel (Netherlands), and Chief of Public Information David
Wimhurst (Canada). In addition, there was Tamrat Samuel (Eritrea), as
head of the UNAMET office in Jakarta.
The Indonesian government, in a move that quietly and sensibly cir
cumvented Governor Abilio Suares and his incompetent administration,
established its own high powered team in Dili, “The Indonesian Task
Force for the Implementation of the Popular Consultation in East Timor,”
which was the operating arm of the impressive Special Ministerial Task
Force that had just been set up in Jakarta. The latter comprised the Coor
dinating Minister for Political Affairs, the Ministers for Foreign Affairs,
Home Affairs, Justice and Defense, and the Chiefs of the Armed Forces,
the National Police, and the National Intelligence Coordinating Agency
The Dili Task Force was headed by Ambassador Agus Tarmidzi, a
most able diplomat and former Indonesian Ambassador to the United
Nations in Geneva, and included Major General Zaki Anwar Makarim,
the former Director of Military Intelligence. Others were officers from
the Indonesian Foreign Ministry, Police, and TNI, who were deputed to
liase in the districts with their UNAMET counterparts.
Initial reports from Dili indicated that the Indonesian authorities
were being most helpful and cooperative, but the honeymoon was soon
tempered by irritants. Alatas telephoned me to express his dismay and dis
pleasure at some of the statements issued by David Wimhurst, UNAMET's
UNAMET and the Arduous Path to the Ballot 165
Chief Spokesman. Although I did not say it to Alatas, I too thought they
were a bit intemperate, and we urged Wimhurst to show more discretion,
while at the same time tightening up our clearance procedures for pub
lic pronouncements of a political nature.
But the damage was done, and this unfortunate misunderstanding
that developed early in UNAMET s relations with the Indonesian author
ities persisted, in some form or the other, till the very end. Another dele
terious matter related to the issue of East Timorese recruitment to the
local staff of UNAMET, and the charge that preference had been given
to pro-independence elements in the selection process. In this case, I saw
very little substance to the allegations, because we had done everything
possible to display and demonstrate the UN’s total neutrality, including
demanding written declarations of neutrality from all applicants, and
ascertaining their veracity as far as possible.
There was certainly no deliberate bias in the recruitment process, but
since the vast majority of East Timorese were pro-independence, (as later
events were to prove), it was reasonably likely that these proportions would
be reflected in the composition of UNAMET’s local staff.
By the first half of June, thanks to the superb effort by all concerned
within the UN system, the build up and deployment of UNAMET was
in full swing. But the good news from East Timor was, as always, tem
pered by the bad. A marked increase in the activity of the militias, cou
pled with compelling evidence of encouragement and support from the
T N I, had resulted in an alarming new situation, the creation of a huge
number of internally displaced persons (IDPs), figures for which varied
in estimates from 40,000 to 100,000.
This was an unexpected and dangerous complication: not only could
it destabilize the whole process of consultations, but it was a situation
that in itself was beyond our capacity to cope with or handle. Following
a series of emergency meetings with the Indonesian and Portuguese
Ambassadors in New York, as well as with the representatives of the Sec-
retary-General’s Core Group in New York, I departed for the region on
June 17. It was already quite clear that for both logistical as well as secu
rity reasons, we would not be able to meet the June 22 deadline for the
commencement of the registration process, and I felt it necessary to make
a personal assessment of the situation on the ground before submitting
any recommendations to the Secretary-General with regard to revised
dates.
I knew also that these dates would have to be both realistic, in terms
o f the window of opportunity provided by the current Indonesian polit
ical situation, and firm, in terms of our capability to deliver: any slippage
166 East Timor
East Timor. The elimination of Xanana at this stage of the game would
be fatal to Habibie’s bold East Timor initiative, and would have disas
trous consequences for all of us.
Subsequent events were to reveal that the threat to Xanana’s life was
clearly substantial, and that even when he was subsequently released from
house arrest in Jakarta, he was first obliged to seek asylum in the British
Embassy before going on to East Timor by way of Australia.
My next two days were spent in a busy round of meetings with some
of my usual kind and helpful ambassador friends, and with a number o f
the leaders of the Indonesian political parties. The most important of the
latter were, of course, Abdurrahman Wahid and Megawati Sukarnopu
tri, with both of whom I had dealt before and had kept briefed on the
East Timor negotiating process. My meeting with Megawati this time
took place at her home, situated in the suburbs of Jakarta, and was reached
after a long drive past crowded, shop-lined streets, eventually leading into
a leafy, rural enclave.
The home itself was simple and modest, tastefully decorated with
Indonesian art and artifacts, and not surprisingly displaying mementoes
of her illustrious father’s life and activities. The garden had a rustic,
unkempt simplicity, attractively adorned by the presence of a tethered
cow, and some dogs and chickens that roamed about in nonchalant con
tentment. After the initial pleasantries of our greetings, I congratulated
Megawati on her electoral success, and asked if I could continue with my
earlier reports on the progress of the East Timor negotiations.
Megawati cut me off and said to me in person what she had already
proclaimed in public, that Habibie as an unelected, interim President had
no right and no business to make such an important and far-reaching
commitment on behalf of Indonesia. She thought that when she came to
power she and her party would probably revisit the entire issue. She was
convinced that East Timor should remain a part of Indonesia (she was,
after all, Sukarno’s daughter, I thought to myself), and that the East Tim
orese would opt for integration once they were assured that the threat of
military repression had been removed.
I responded by saying, very politely, that while the wishes and desires
of the people of East Timor could still be a matter of speculation and
conjecture, there could be no debate about the finality o f the New York
May 5 Agreements. This was a solemn international obligation entered
into by two sovereign states and the United Nations. Agreements of this
nature were made between nations, and not governments which, even if
changed, are committed to fulfill obligations entered into by its prede
cessors.
UNAM ET and the Arduous Path to the Ballot 171
the final choice should rest with the East Timorese people. This was sa t
isfactory, from my point of view, especially as I was by now convinced
that Gus Dur had his sights on the Presidency, and was skillfully m anip
ulating his way into that office.
On arrival in Dili on June 24, I immediately went to U N A M ET
headquarters for a series of intensive briefings by Ian Martin and his senior
colleagues. They had hit the deck running, and the enthusiasm and energy
with which they assumed their multifarious duties was an exhilarating
spectacle. We then went on to a meeting with the Members of the Task
Force, led by Ambassador Tarmedzi. Here, a sense of reality replaced some
of the euphoria generated at the earlier session at UNAMET headquar
ters.
These meetings between UNAMET and the Task Force, which
became a regular feature of our activity in East Timor, formed an impor
tant institution for our contact with the Indonesian authorities at the all-
important working level. The atmosphere was friendly but purposeful, and
we discussed not only methods for creating a level playing field for the
campaign, but also the problem of a volatile security situation resulting
from the recent vicious militia activities.
I also repeated to the Task Force the strong protest, which I had
already conveyed to Jakarta, over Governor Soares’ recent outrageous dec
laration threatening dismissal to any East Timorese civil servant who
opted for independence. For the Task Force, which operated indepen
dently of the Governor, this was a matter of embarrassment rather than
guilt.
The next day I went on a helicopter inspection of the UNAMET
facilities that were being established in other parts of the island, and vis
ited Baucau and Liquicia. The impression was extremely positive as far
as UNAMET activities were concerned, and its relationship with the local
population could not have been more heart-warming. We were surrounded
by cheering crowds of men, women, and children whose delight at the
UN presence was joyously manifest.
On the other hand, we also saw evidence of the brutalities commit
ted by the militia, and more ominously, received credible reports of either
inaction or encouragement by the TNI and police. I subsequently took
up this matter on my return to Jakarta, but it was only after considerable
persuasion, pressure, and the international outrage that followed foreign
news reports from Dili that President Habibie decided to send a Minis
terial mission under General Wiranto, which did not take place till as late
as July 12,1999.
I held a meeting with the entire staff of UNAMET and expressed
UNAMET and the Arduous Path to the Ballot 173
to them the thanks and the appreciation of the Secretary-General for the
splendid work that they had done. This was followed by a press confer
ence, during the course of which I expressed satisfaction at the progress
made by UNAMET, and went on to state my frank concern at the
deplorable security situation and at the Indonesian authorities’ failure to
bring it under control.
At this stage it may be relevant to enumerate the immediate objec
tives of UNAMET. These were (a) registration and preparation for the
ballot, (b) dissemination of voting procedures to the electorate, (c) super
vising the electoral campaign including preparation of a code of conduct,
(d) reconciliation, and the laying down of arms, (e) organization of the
ballot and its attendant procedures, (f) counting the ballot, and convey
ing its results to the Secretary-General, and (f) fixing the dates for each
o f these activities.
The registration was carried out with remarkable speed, efficiency,
and accuracy by UN volunteers working under the leadership o f Jeff Fis
cher, the Chief Electoral officer, and of the lively and dynamic Carina
Perelli, who led a team of specialists from the Electoral Assistance Divi
sion, seconded from headquarters in New York. The registration was com
puterized in Sydney, Australia, to which base the data collected in Dili
was transmitted on a regular basis. Lists of voters for each polling station
were displayed over a five-day period (August 19 to 23), and challenges
were attended to by the Electoral Commission.
On August 25, at the end of the twenty-day registration period, the
Electoral Commission issued its formal determination, indicating a total
of 451,792 voters: 438,517 were from East Timor, and 13,296 were from
overseas centers. By contrast, 400,000 had registered during the Indone
sian general elections, a figure which also included Indonesian residents
in East Timor. The Electoral Commission expressed its approval of “the
calm and reassuring atmosphere of competence and determination man
ifested at registration centers.” Similar reports of approval were issued by
a number of Observer NGOs, including the Carter Center.
While the registration process was under way, UNAMET contin
ued a vigorous campaign of information and education with regard to the
ballot process. This was conducted in Tetun, Bhasa Indonesia, English,
and Portuguese, and was disseminated through the press, TV, and radio:
a Japanese government contribution of several thousand transistor sets
proved particularly helpful in this regard.
The Public Information section, which never lacks creative talent,
had composed a catchy and cheerful little ditty, urging people to go out
and vote. The result was that the “UNAMET Song,” played by a young
174 East Timor
local pop group, soon hit the top of the East Timor charts, and stayed
there. Apart from instructing the voters on the technicalities of the pro
cedure, I was particularly keen that they be assured of the total security
and secrecy of the ballot, and that the UN would do everything possible
to prevent any form of pressure or intimidation.
A Code of Conduct for the participants had been prepared, after
consultation with the political parties of both groups, and it was formally
presented to the leaders by the Special Representative of the Secretary-
General at a ceremony on August 9. The document was signed by repre
sentatives of UNIF and CNRT, and witnessed by Bishop Belo, the C hief
of Police, and representatives from the Indonesian and Portuguese
Observer Missions as well as the Indonesian Task Force. The format for
the ballot paper, complete with symbols, was also adopted.
The issue of reconciliation and the laying down of arms remained as
difficult and vexatious as ever. In spite of our concerted efforts, in several
different approaches and directions, the results were never satisfactory.
An earlier meeting at Dare convened by Bishops Belo and Nasciemento
in September 1998 had been an attempt to bring the different groups
together, but had not achieved much success. They tried again, this time
with UNAMET support, and a Dare II Peace and Reconciliation Meet
ing was held in Jakarta from 25 to 30 of June 1999.
The Indonesian Government, in a welcome and far-sighted act o f
statesmanship, rendered active support and cooperation to the meeting,
permitted Xanana Gusmao to participate in the proceedings, and issued
visas to CNRT exiles, including Ramos Horta. The atmosphere in the
conference was very good—better than anything I had seen in the old
AIETD days—and we were treated to the unusual spectacle of Alatas and
Ramos Horta not only meeting, smiling, and shaking hands, but actually
saying some quite nice things about each other.
But these pleasantries, acceptable and positive in themselves, did not
lead to any substantive action or results, and even a modest measure, such
as the creation of a Joint Commission, failed to obtain support from the
pro-integration groups. Nevertheless, we in the UN wished to keep the
ball rolling, and, taking advantage of the presence of the East Timorese
leaders in Jakarta, as well as the goodwill and momentum generated by
Dare II, we decided to step in with a new initiative.
We organized a meeting of the East Timorese leaders, including
Xanana Gusmao, at the UN Missions office in Jakarta, where Ian Mar
tin, Vendrell, and Tamrat Samuel conducted the negotiations. The
Indonesian government, who was informed of the meeting, gave us their
support. Xanana set the tone of the discussions with the observation that
UNAMET and the Arduous Path to the Ballot 175
the result of the ballot should be seen as the desire of the East Timorese
people, and that “there should be no winners and no losers, no heroes and
no traitors."
It was decided that an East Timorese Council would be established
immediately after the ballot, and would be responsible for encouraging
reconciliation and stability, while at the same time assisting in the work
o f transition. The body was officially designated the East Timorese Con
sultative Council, and would consist of twenty-five members, ten to be
nominated by each of the pro-integration and pro-independence groups,
and five to be nominated by the Secretary-General in consultation with
the two groups and the Governments of Indonesia and Portugal.
The establishment of the Consultative Commission was obviously a
good idea, and showed considerable promise at the time it was set up, but
the violence that erupted after the ballot destroyed any possibility of its
implementation.
The issue of “the laying down of arms” was, of course, critical to the
whole process of the Popular Consultation, and our failure to solve this
problem resulted in the devastation that followed the ballot. But this fail
ure needs to be viewed in the overall context of the negotiations, and not
judged simply in terms of the efforts that were made on the ground just
prior to the ballot.
The fierce Indonesian insistence on retaining responsibility for secu
rity and law and order has already been indicated, as has been the Indone
sian Government’s assertion of its commitment to see through a process
that bears the imprimatur of President Habibie. Our attempts to push
the envelope on this issue were therefore constantly circumscribed by the
realistic threat of a deal breaker. The possibility of a general disarmament
was discussed, but rejected as being too impractical, and was certainly
beyond the very limited resources and time available to the UN at that
moment.
Alatas then suggested that the expression “laying down of arms” would
be an appropriate term, both as a means of conveying intention, as well as
a matter of practical application. Accordingly, the May 5, Agreements,
while expressing the view that security for the popular consultation neces
sitated “the laying down of arms” by all groups, and the redeployment of
the TNI, decided to entrust the operational responsibility of this exercise
to the newly formed Commission on Peace and Stability (KPS).
It stated that “the Commission, in cooperation with the United
Nations, will elaborate a code of conduct, by which all parties should
abide, for the period prior to and following the consultation, ensure the
laying down of arms, and take necessary steps to achieve disarmament.”
176 East Timor
during our visit, and his valuable services were always unhesitatingly
placed at the disposal of UNAMET during his frequent trips to Darwin.
This was our first visit to Sydney, which must surely be one of the
loveliest and most friendly cities in the world. Nature’s bountiful gifts o f
sea, sand, sun, green hills, and blue skies have clearly been lovingly nur
tured by the inhabitants, who have crafted onto this enchanting base an
architectural necklace of wondrous beauty, ranging from the majesty o f
the Harbor Bridge and the graceful Opera House to the fairy-tale charm
of the dwellings that scatter the surrounding bays and hillsides. Added
to this was the pleasure of an encounter with a warm, hospitable, and
carefree people, zestfully enjoying the good things of life, as we saw when
we took in a concert at the Opera House, and dined at the hearty chop
houses.
Canberra, like contrived capitals in other countries, was broad o f
boulevard and a little antiseptic, with an austere town-planned beauty,
which seemed to have not quite got off the drawing board and into real
life. But there was no lack of reality as far as our work was concerned.
The Australians had organized a series of meetings and discussions, both
at the policy level with the Deputy Prime Minister and the Ministers o f
External Affairs and Defense, and at the working level with the Heads o f
Departments, all of which proved to be extremely valuable.
I was escorted at these meetings by Brigadier (now Major General)
Mike Smith, who also gave me an extremely useful working paper con
taining his thoughts and views on the East Timor situation. I have yet to
see a more persuasive and analytical document on the subject. Mike is
one of the rare breed of soldier scholars who combine intellectual curios
ity and capability with sound professional military practice. He is as
impressive, deploying with his troops in military camouflage uniform, as
he is when seated around a conference table in a sober civilian suit, qui
etly making an effective point.
Foreign Minister Alexander Downer, whom I had frequently met in
New York, epitomized the new aggressive Australian approach to the East
Timor problem. While conscious of the dynamics of maintaining an equi
librium in terms of his country’s relations with Indonesia, Downer
appeared prepared to assume a leadership role in any coalition that may
be required to deal with a rapidly and dangerously evolving situation in
the region.
When in Canberra, I received further disquieting reports of increas
ing activity by the militias in East Timor, this time escalating into an
attack on a United Nations post and on a UN convoy. The Secretary-
General expressed “grave concern,” and the Security Council warned that
UNAMET and the Arduous Path to the Ballot 179
advice, especially from the latter. Obviously, no one who meets Lee Kuan
Yew can fail to be impressed by his personality, but any awe that lesser
mortals may feel in the presence of a living legend are quickly put to rest
by his easy, nonchalant simplicity.
A tart but by no means unkind humor emanated from Lee’s sparkling
mind, and found reflection in the brilliance of his eyes. Lee thought that
the East Timor situation seemed to be on its way to a solution, and
applauded Habibie’s courageous and wise decision to hold a ballot. His
greater concern, however, was over Indonesia itself, and o f the impact that
developments in that vast archipelago might have over the entire South
East Asia region.
I returned to New York for the next session of the Ministerial Tri
lateral and the Senior Officials’ Meeting, during the course of which we
hoped to provide positive directions to a process that was now well under
way, lurching and thrashing toward its next objective, the ballot box.
16
The Popular Consultation
in East Timor:
The Ballot
N e w Y o r k , J a k a r t a , a n d D i li :
J u l y a n d A u g u s t 1999
A Senior Officials’ Meeting was held in New York on July 15 and 16,
1999, to review the current state of the popular consultation process, and
to make an assessment of the post consultation issues. As for the former,
apart from the usual discussion on security, we also prepared a Code of
Conduct for the Official Observers (Indonesia and Portugal), and the
other Observers, such as NGOs and journalists.
The post ballot scenario, for which we prepared a working paper,
focused on Phase II, the interregnum between the announcement of the
results of the ballot and the convening of the Indonesian National Assem
bly (MPR), which would legislate on the result of the ballot. Anticipat
ing that this would be a period of tension, we had prepared a series of
181
182 East Timor
measures to ensure tranquility. But, as later events were to prove, this was
an exercise in futility, because the extent of the post election violence
exceeded our worst expectations, and required measures far more strin
gent than those contained in our modest proposals.
Meanwhile, as has already been indicated, we had decided to start
the registration process, and the Secretary-General accordingly addressed
a letter to the Security Council on July 14:
It is not, however, possible for me to conclude at present that the
necessary security conditions exist for the peaceful implementa
tion of the popular consultation process throughout the Terri
tory.... As I noted in my letter of July 10, the security situation in
the whole of the Territory remains serious, and there has not been
time to properly assess how far recent steps taken by the govern
ment will result in an improvement. In particular, as I have pre
viously reported to the Council, violence and intimidation have
been permitted to be carried out with impunity by pro-autonomy
militias. Nevertheless, determined as I believe we should be to go
ahead, undeterred by the intimidation, and in view of the need to
adhere to the shortest possible time frame, I have decided to begin
the registration, based on positive assurances by the Indonesian
authorities, on the condition that meaningful, visible improve
ments in the security situation will be observed in the immediate
future. UNAMET will continue to keep the security situation con
stantly under review, and I intend to make another assessment of
conditions based on its objective evaluation, halfway through the
registration period. At that time, I will determine whether there
has been enough significant progress to continue registration on
the basis that the people of East Timor are able to participate in
the popular consultation safely and free of intimidation.
unwillingness of the security forces to contain the militia, Ross had issued
a stern warning to Habibie stating that any delay in the ballot caused by
security concerns would have a very adverse impact on US and Indone
sian relations.
I returned to Indonesia in early August and found, despite my short
absence, a noticeable change in the atmosphere. The economic and polit
ical turmoil had taken their toll, and Jakarta now had the look of an impe
cunious nobleman who had known better times: forlorn, a little down at
the mouth, and clothed in a former finery which was now unkempt and
fraying at the cuffs.
As usual, my first meeting was with Alatas, followed by one with
Wiranto, and our discussions were obviously concerned with the ongo
ing consultation process and the security situation in East Timor. T he
Indonesians, while conceding that more needed to be done to ensure law
and order, refused to place all the blame on the militias, and insisted that
violence had also been committed by pro-independence elements.
The next day we held a meeting of the Senior Officials, hosted this
time by the Indonesian Ministry of Foreign Affairs, and continued the
agenda of our earlier New York meeting. We also reviewed the Dare 11
process and the work of the East Timor Consultative Commission, which
by now was running into difficulties.
After the Senior Officials Meeting, Ian Martin and I were received
by President Habibie, who greeted us warmly and had the full panoply
of Ministers in attendance. I told Habibie that the United Nations was
determined to continue our program with regard to the process of popu
lar consultation, and looked forward to his cooperation to ensure that the
bold initiative that the President had proclaimed in January would be
carried to its logical successful conclusion.
However, the security situation in East Timor was still a matter o f
great concern, and was a major impediment to the processes of registra
tion and campaigning. I conceded that while there had been a marginal
improvement in recent days, there was still a great deal to be done. Habi
bie and his Ministers reiterated their commitment to the process, thought
that our view of the security situation was unduly alarmist, and assured
us that normalcy would soon be restored. Ian and I were much less san
guine.
Nevertheless, our meeting concluded with the understanding that
while the UN would continue with the consultation process, it would do
so on the basis of a watchful and ongoing assessment of the security sit
uation. I reported this to the Secretary-General who, in turn, informed
the Security Council of his decision in a letter dated July 26,1999.
The Poptilar Consultation in East Timor: The Ballot 185
“Feelings.” The soldier and the diplomat in harmony. General W iranto (left) and
J .M . at President Habibie’s dinner. Photograph: M inistry of Foreign Affairs,
Indonesia.
always remain delightfully memorable. But the show did not end there,
and in due course each of the men in the party had to take the mike, p ick
a song from a book that Habibie had unearthed, and sing for his supper.
By popular demand, Wiranto had to give a number of encores to his
rendition of “Feelings,” and we were treated to the implausible spectacle
of the stern, sphinx-like Commander of the Indonesian Armed Forces in
a near professional performance as a crooner. It is fascinating and delight
ful incongruities of this kind that make the Indonesians such a remark
able and lovable people.
The next morning it was back to business, and I had a long and very
productive meeting with Xanana Gusmao. We discussed the impasse th at
had now appeared in the Committee on Peace and Stability (KPS). N ot
only was the participation of the CNRT (and also the UN), becoming
marginalized, but there were also serious differences in basic perceptions.
As already mentioned, for the Indonesian military (TNI), the process o f
disarmament would apply only to the militias and FALANTIL (the mil
itary component of the CNRT), leaving the TNI unaffected.
Xanana’s argument, which had considerable merit, was that the
twenty-five year struggle had been between the TNI and FALANTIL,
and that the process of disarmament required reciprocity between the
two. In order to get out of this dilemma, I suggested to Xanana that he
should place the bulk of the FALANTIL forces into a cantonment, and
I would work on the TNI to withdraw into their barracks.
In any event, I thought it most important that at this late stage in
the negotiations it was imperative that FALANTIL should hold its fire
and not get provoked into large-scale retaliation. This could only result
in a civil war, and a setback to the consultation process. Xanana needed
little convincing on this score, and in a remarkable display of far-sighted
leadership and discipline, kept the FALANTIL in its cantonments despite
the devastating provocations of the militias that were soon to occur.
I left for Dili on August 14, for a three-day stay, during the course
of which I was briefed on UNAMET’s activities, met with the represen
tatives of both the pro-independence and pro-integration groups, and had
useful discussions with Bishops Belo and Nasciemento. I also attended a
meeting with the Indonesian Task Force, during the course of which the
security situation was discussed intensively and with some acrimony.
In an otherwise tense and apprehensive atmosphere in Dili, there was
one positive and encouraging element. This was the continued splendid
dedication and morale of the UNAMET staff members. Carina Perelli,
who headed the Electoral Assistance Division in New York, was now, in
her own remarkable and energetic manner, engaged in the electoral process
The Popular Consultation in East Timor: The Ballot 187
too, we were able to see the occasional trail of people heading from the
hills to the polling stations and vice versa. That evening, as we returned
to UNAMET headquarters, I felt that I had lived through one of the
most productive and emotionally satisfying days of my life.
We made a hurried review of the day’s events. Violence had been
minimal. One East Timorese UN worker had been stabbed to death after
the polls closed in Ermera; seven out of the two hundred polling stations
had been temporarily closed under threat of violence, but had been quickly
reopened.
We estimated the turnout to be about 80 percent of the 439,000 reg
istered voters, but in this we were wrong, because the final tally put the
figure at an astonishing 98.6 percent! Ian Martin and I met a number of
international observers and found them to be universally appreciative of
UNAM ET’s conduct of the ballot. The Irish Foreign Minister, Mr. David
Andrews, who represented the European Union, commended “the pro
fessional, effective, and dedicated way in which UNAMET staff con
ducted the poll.”
From Jakarta, too, came positive comments on the way the polls had
been carried out. Alatas appreciated the fair conduct of the polls, and
believed that when the results were announced they would be regarded
as free and fair, and General Wiranto also said that “on the whole”
UNAMET had done a commendable job.
190 Käst Timor
A rn az with some cheerful young East Timorese citizens who thronged the polling
boo ths, despite their obvious lack o f voter qualification. Photograph: author’s col
lection.
I left Dili for Jakarta the day following the ballot, and shortly there
after received reports of trouble, both in the outlying districts of East
Timor and in Dili itself, where the militia had attacked pro-indepen
dence supporters as well as foreign journalists, some of whom were com
pelled to seek shelter in the UNAMET compound.
I made the strongest protests to Alatas and Wiranto, pointing out
that not only was the whole consultation process in jeopardy, but that
Indonesia’s position and prestige in the international community was now
very much on the line. The excesses in East Timor and Jakarta’s inabil
ity to control them were a serious breach of the solemn international
obligation that the Republic of Indonesia had assumed under the New
York Agreements of May 5,1999.
Already there were calls for an international peacekeeping force to
be deployed in East Timor, and matters were not helped by the brusque
response of a government spokesman: “Just for everyone who has not got
the message, Australia will not be invading Indonesia.” Such defiant and
intemperate words only served to act as a tacit encouragement to the mili
tias to continue their rampage.
My hectic activities in Jakarta were concentrated on three issues.
192
The Aftermath o f the Ballot 193
The first was to get the Indonesian government to stop the rampage by
the militia in East Timor. The second was to ensure the security of the
UNAMET premises in Dili and above all of the museum building near
the airport, where the ballot boxes had been stored and where the ballots
were being counted.
My greatest apprehension was that the militia might attack the
museum premises and destroy the ballot papers, thus frustrating our work
at the very last moment. I put the utmost pressure on Wiranto over this
matter, and did not leave his office until I was satisfied that he had ordered
additional security personnel to guard the UNAMET Electoral Center
at the Dili museum. My third priority was to urge Xanana Gusmao to
continue to exercise restraint by the FALANTIL forces, despite the fierce
attacks and provocations to which they, and the East Timorese civilians,
were being exposed.
We were now confronted with the matter of the timing of the
announcement of the results of the ballot. The problem was exacerbated by
the upsurge of violence on September 1, when hundreds of militia converged
on Dili and unleashed a campaign of terror, burning, and looting, attacking
the pro-independence supporters as well as foreign news correspondents.
In New York, the Security Council issued a strong statement of con
demnation, and in Jakarta I had stormy meetings with Alatas and Wiranto,
demanding that they take more effective action against the militia. I also
strongly urged Wiranto to be present in Dili on the date of the announce
ment of the results of the ballot, a request that he had earlier declined.
However, the escalation of violence in East Timor compelled me to reit
erate my demand.
I told him that an American CIVPOL officer had been shot and seri
ously wounded by the militia the previous day, and that attacks on
UNAM ET personnel and offices were not only on the increase, but
remained unchecked by the TNI. Accordingly, Wiranto and Justice-Min-
ister Muladi flew to Dili for a one-day visit on September 5.
At an airport meeting, Ian Martin briefed them on the deplorable
nature of the situation (no gesture could be more incriminating than the
Ministers’ reluctance to go into the town), but the Indonesians responded
with the disturbingly unsatisfactory comment that the security forces were
“using persuasion” to get the militia to exercise restraint: if they were to
use force, then there would be war.
Wiranto also said that FALANTIL had received new weapons, and
this was a matter of concern. UNAMET had no evidence of this, and all
our reports indicated that the FALANTIL commanders, with whom our
MLOs maintained constant liaison, were exercising admirable restraint.
194 East Timor
cal narrative and follow the destiny of UNAMET through the next inspir
ing phase of its activity under the courageous and dedicated leadership
o f Ian Martin, CMLO Brigadier Rezaqul Haider, CIVPOL Chief Com
missioner Alan Mills, and their senior colleagues.
On September 5, as their activity gained momentum, the militia
attacked the premises of the International Committee of the Red Cross
in Dili, and went on to destroy the Bishopric, where 3,000 refugees had
taken shelter, and forced the evacuation of Bishop Belo to Baucau. As the
rampage and destruction continued, I received confirmed reports of active
T N I collaboration with the militia, and even more ominously of the herd
ing of East Timorese onto the docks in Dili for forcible expulsion to West
Timor.
In the meanwhile, on September 4 UNAMET had been obliged to
declare “Security Phase Three” which, under UN rules, requires the evac
uation of non-essential staff. It commenced by closing its outlying posts,
gradually withdrawing the staff into its perimeter at headquarters in Dili,
and airlifting surplus personnel to Darwin. But soon the situation within
the UNAMET premises itself became untenable, when some 2,000
terrified internal displaced persons (IDPs) were attacked by the militia
and jumped over the barbed wire fences into the UNAMET compound
for safety, adding to the hundreds of local and international staff who
were already there.
Ian Martin was then faced with a series of difficult and heartbreak
ing choices, which included the question of the continuation of the
UNAMET presence, the security of international personnel, and the fate
o f the internally displaced persons who were now in UNAMET’s pro
tection. Martin carried out a hectic schedule of negotiations with the
Indonesian authorities, with headquarters in New York, with the IDPs,
and with his own indomitable staff, during these difficult days.
At the same time, as will be revealed subsequently, there was mount
ing international pressure on Jakarta, a pressure that eventually compelled
the Indonesians to accept an international peacekeeping force. But until
that happened, there were a series of dramatic events in Dili, events that
testified to the courage, dedication, and humanity of the illustrious staff
o f UNAMET and their dedicated East Timorese charges and colleagues.
These dramatic events are best left to be described by Ian Martin
and any others who actually lived through them in Dili. For me, the con
duct and dedication of the UNAMET staff restored one’s faith in man
kind, especially when contrasted with the gross inhumanity and violence
that had been unleashed by the militia. This was truly a real life demon
stration of both the good and the evil in human nature.
196 East Timor
tal, stimulated as it was by the violence in East Timor and the compul
sions on UNAMET to close its posts, one by one, and retreat into the
beleaguered compound in Dili.
It now became absolutely necessary to bring to bear every form of
pressure on the Indonesian Government, and over the next few days the
international community acted in a powerful and measured manner. The
most important factor was the presence of the Security Council delega
tion’s presence in Jakarta and Dili, where the members not only saw for
themselves the devastation that had taken place, but more importantly
conveyed in the strongest terms to the Indonesian leadership the feelings
o f revulsion of the international community, and their demands for the
induction of a peacekeeping force.
The United States added its considerable weight to the effort through
the unusual process of a series of direct telephone conversations between
Clinton, Albright, and Cohen, each with their Indonesian counterparts,
Habibie, Alatas, and Wiranto. In addition, there was a meeting of the
Asia Pacific Economic Cooperation group (APEC) leaders in Auckland,
New Zealand, from September 9 to 12 which was attended by the Prime
Ministers and Foreign Ministers of the member states, as well as by
Madeleine Albright of the United States, Lloyd Axworthy of Canada, and
Robin Cook representing the European Union.
Habibie and Alatas absented themselves from the meeting, but the
message they received from Don McKinnon of New Zealand was unequiv
ocal. The members, who between them possessed over three quarters of
the world’s GDP, deplored the events in East Timor and were prepared
to support an international presence in the island in order to ensure secu
rity and the compliance of the results of the ballot. Indonesia’s economic
condition had by now deteriorated from the parlous to the perilous, and
the country’s dependence on foreign assistance was desperate.
Further pressure in this direction came from Jim Wolfensohn, the
World Bank President, who wrote to Habibie on September 8: “For the
international financial community to be able to continue its full support
it is critical that you act swiftly to restore order, and that your govern
ment come through on its public commitment to honor the referendum
outcome.”
Michel Camdessus, the Managing Director of the International
Monetary Fund, issued successive warning statements, and followed this
up on September 9 with a decision to defer the planned visit to Jakarta
o f a mission which was scheduled to discuss the resumption of a desper
ately needed credit trance from an IMF loan.
On that same fateful day of September 7, the Indonesian Govern
198 East Timor
ment freed Xanana Gusmao from house arrest, but this tardy gesture was
of no help to Xanana in the prevalent situation. He accepted the timely
and generous offer of hospitality made by Robin Christopher, the British
Ambassador, and after a short stay in the Embassy left for Australia.
It was not until October 22 that this heroic figure, the remarkable
and undisputed leader of the East Timorese people, was able to return to
his beloved homeland. The previous day, just prior to his release and just
after my acrimonious session at the President’s office in Jakarta, I met
Xanana in his residence of detention.
The visit was both painful and emotional, to say the least. In the first
place, there had been widespread rumors that Xanana’s father had been
killed by the militia in the course of their rampage; fortunately this infor
mation proved to be false, but we were not to know it at the time. When
I expressed my sympathies to Xanana, he was quite stoic over the news
about his father, but broke down and wept openly about the killings and
sufferings of his people.
W hat went wrong? Had he erred in agreeing to go ahead with the
ballot? Had he been wrong in restraining the FALANTIL? And finally,
although he was too much of a gentleman to say so, his eyes were an inter
rogation: could he trust the United Nations any longer?
I urged Xanana not to lose heart, and assured him that we would put
things right. His brave people had expressed their will to the world in
unequivocal terms, and the world had taken note of this with admiration.
We would ensure that their will prevails. I left him with a hug and a
thumbs-up signal, but it was a tense parting.
On September 7, the Spokesman for the Secretary-General, United
Nations, in New York issued a statement warning the Indonesian Gov
ernment that it had forty-eight hours in which to restore law and order
in East Timor. Alatas responded with the somewhat defiant counter warn
ing “not to issue ultimatums,” and added that any peacekeeping force
“would have to shoot its way” into East Timor.
In private, however, there were signs of softening and change, as the
Secretary-General told me he had detected, in a further lengthy, frank,
and straightforward telephone conversation with Habibie. As in so much
else, Kofi has no equal in the art of long distance telephone diplomacy.
On September 11, the Secretary-General in his report to the Secu
rity Council reiterated that the militia actions in East Timor might well
be categorized as international crime, and urged Indonesia to immedi
ately agree to the presence of an international peacekeeping force. “If it
refuses to do so it cannot escape responsibility for what could amount,
according to reports reaching us, to crimes against humanity.”
The Aftermath o f the Ballot 199
Just outside the city of St. Petersburg, Russia, at the famous Pis-
karevsky Cemetery, a million victims of the siege of Leningrad in World
War II lie buried amongst surroundings of somber beauty. The War
Memorial carries a poem by the Leningrad poet and diarist, Olga Bergolts,
who had herself endured those dark days of war and siege. The poem
ends with the words:
“Let no one forget;
Let nothing be forgotten...”
As Xanana Gusmao saw off the last of the Indonesian officials at
Dili’s Comoro airport on October 31,1999, he found himself the leader
of a new and free country, a country that had for too long endured
sufferings in the past, was materially devastated in the present, and faced
a future in which hardship was the only certainty. A Security Council res
olution had established a United Nations mandate, the United Nations
Transitional Authority in East Timor (UNTAET). This was placed under
the dynamic leadership of a Brazilian diplomat and senior United Nations
official, Under Secretary-General Sergio Vieira de Mello, who was des
ignated as the Special Representative of the Secretary-General (SRSG),
and whose responsibility it was to commence the immense task of nation
building, in collaboration with the representatives of the East Timorese
people. It was a daunting but exciting and worthwhile challenge.
First the rubble of physical destruction had to be cleared, and at the
same time the emotional scars of deaths and disappearance in the long,
widespread conflict had to be healed. A series of international donors’
conferences, organized by the United Nations, provided the resources, in
202
A Review, and Some Reflections 203
cash and kind, for the reconstruction of East Timor. At the same time,
the task of rebuilding or creating institutions was commenced, so that
national requirements—as diverse as education, legal systems, sanitation,
power supplies, agriculture, trade, and other economic activities—could
be put into effect.
Just as important, the issue of the examination of human rights vio
lations was addressed. This, in turn, was coupled with the gradual induc
tion of political institutions and the political process was set in motion,
with East Timorese participation in administration and legislation.
This is a most satisfactory outcome, judged by any standards. But
the independence of East Timor was not achieved without cost, partic
ularly to its own people, and it is obvious that some form of balance sheet
needs to be drawn up. The final verdict will, as always, be left to history,
but an active participant in the United Nations process and efforts may
be permitted to record some observations.
In the first place, it seems to me, we need to examine the historical
context of the East Timorese struggle against Indonesia, which com
menced in 1975. This is particularly relevant as far as the issue of casu
alties is concerned. Figures are difficult to quantify with accuracy, but it
is generally believed that between 1975 and 1997, as a result of the civil
war, the Indonesian invasion, and the subsequent long guerrilla struggle,
there were approximately 250,000 East Timorese killed.
This is about a quarter of the entire population, and when I first
commenced the negotiation process I was horrified by the knowledge that
there was hardly an East Timorese citizen who had not lost a friend or a
family member in violence over the past twenty years. To this large figure
must be added the casualties on the Indonesian side which, though far
less numerous, nevertheless add to the gruesome total of the toll of human
lives that were sacrificed in this long running conflict.
At the time when the pro-integration militia unleashed their mur
derous assaults, from August to November 1999, we had the impression
that there had been a tremendous blood bath. Subsequent events have
revealed that although the destruction of property, particularly in the
urban areas of East Timor, was almost complete, the loss of life had been
mercifully far less than I had originally feared, and current estimates put
the figure at between one and two thousand.
This was probably because most people fled to the hills, and thus
escaped massacre. While the loss of even one life is to be strongly deplored,
it would not be unreasonable to assert that the final spurt of bloodletting,
just before independence, was a tiny fraction of the casualties that had
occurred over the previous twenty-five years.
204 East Timor
nection, there is a revealing report from The Asian Wall Street Journal in
its October 22/23,1999 issue:
In early August, Megawati Sukarnoputri, then the presidential
front-runner, made the last of her many appeals to delay East
Timor’s referendum on independence from Indonesia.
Sitting beneath a portrait of her father—Indonesia’s founding
president Sukarno—at her suburban Jakarta estate, Ms. Megawati
warned Jamsheed Marker, a United Nations special envoy, that the
risk of bloodshed was simply too high.
Mr. Marker’s response was equally blunt. “I told her it had to
go ahead,” he says. “It was the UN’s solemn duty to go ahead with
the vote.”
The next critical phase came on Monday, August 30,1999, the day
of the ballot. Here again a comment from the same piece in The Asian
Wall Street Journal is relevant:
Despite misgivings about leaving security to the Indonesian mil
itary, the meeting led Mr. Annan and his aides to determine that
pushing for an international peacekeeping force would be a deal
breaker. Diplomats from the US, Australia, and other key allies,
who weren’t at the meeting, soon also came to the same conclu
sion: Either Indonesia would take care of security, or the vote
wouldn’t happen.
Pushing Jakarta too hard made little sense to the US, in any
event. Indonesia was still struggling to emerge from the political
chaos that followed the end of President Suharto’s 32-year old rule
last year. Inside the W hite House, fears ran high that the world’s
fourth-most-populous country might splinter or slip into anarchy.
East Timor seemed important, administration officials say, but the
vote wasn’t important enough to undermine Indonesia’s stability.
As a result, US officials walked a political tightrope.
pendence. In a conflict that has lasted as long as the one in East Timor,
there are always many heroes and a not inconsiderable number of villains.
But there are many whose motives and motivations have been unexcep
tionable, even though their actions may be questionable.
This applies, in particular, to a large number of Indonesians whose
attitude toward East Timor was founded on considerations of patriotism
and national unity, and not on aggrandizement or oppression. It is a trib
ute, therefore, to their moral integrity that they willingly entered into
negotiations to ascertain the will of the East Timorese people, and an even
greater tribute to their moral courage when, overcoming a quarter cen
tury of emotional attachment, they accepted the outcome of the referen-
Top: Secretary-General Kofi Annan meets Bishop Belo (left) and Bishop
Nasciemento in Dili, 17 February 2000. The Bishops, whose rasks could not have
been more exacting, played a key role in the political process. Their counsel and
guidance were vital during negotiations.
Bottom: East Tim or’s Kofi Annan thanks the United Nations. Xanana Gusmao
in the left foreground, unidentified man behind Gusmao, Kofi Annan, Sergio Viera
de Mello in background to right of Annan and a unidentified camerman.
210 East Timor
211
212 Epilogue
“Viva!” A greeting from Xanana Gusmao (left) to J.M. (ccnter) and the crowd at a
celebration meeting in Dili, 18 February 2000. Arnaz Marker at right. Photograph:
Tamrat Samuel, author s collection.
214 Epilogue
Kofi Annan and his wife, Nane, with some of the orphans who survived the mili
tia terror.
“the poorest country in Asia”. Whilst this was true under prevalent cir
cumstances, fortunately it is not likely to remain so for long, as there are
several factors which provide grounds of optimism. In the first instance,
contributions from the international community in terms of funds and
technical assistance would enable the country to establish its basic eco
nomic and administrative structures over the first few years of its exis
tence. By that time the generation of revenues from lucrative Timor Sea
oil and gas resources should commence. Current budget projections esti
mate that the taxes from oil and gas revenues will cover most government
expenditure until 2006, with an anticipation of earnings estimated at $7
billion in the first seventeen years. To this could be added the later earn
ings from the even richer Sunrise seabed sector, estimated to be about
three times the size of the current Bagu Udam fields. Considering that
the population of East Timor is less than a million people, the availabil
ity of these revenues is most reassuring.
Just as reassuring is the commitment of East Timor’s present lead
ership to the concepts of freedom, democracy, egalitarianism, human rights
and the rule of law. The long and bitter freedom struggle has created a
cadre of dedicated leadership that promises “good governance,” an essen
tial requirement of stability and statehood that is more lasting and valu
able than natural wealth, which can be so easily squandered through
Epilogue 215
irresponsible public profligacy. In this respect, the vision, ideas and ded
ication of Xanana Gusmao and his colleagues are perhaps just as impor
tant for East Timor as the Bagu Udam and Sunrise oilfields on the bed
o f the Timor Sea. Now, Timor Loresae is both a reality and “an idea
whose time has come.”
Index
African National Congress (ANC) 52 Belo, Ximenese 10,19, 21, 38, 40-42,
Alatas, Ali “Alex” 26-27, 33, 45, 48- 47, 63, 71, 88, 91, 97, 99,102,105,112,
49, 66-68, 75, 84, 86-91, 93, 99,103, 115,135,146,168,174,186,195,207,
107,109,117,119-121,123,125,132, 209
134-135,137-139,141-142,145,147, Bergolts, Olga 202
153-157,159,163-167,169,184-185, Bhagat, Mohinder 36
189,192-194,196-200, 205, 210 Boutros-Ghali, Boutros 4
Albright, Madeleine 141,197 Bradley, Pat 150
Alexander, David 51 Brandt, Juan Carlos 177
Alkateri, Mari 63 Brazael, Aurelia de 50
All Inclusive East Timorese Dialogue Burke, Edmund 210
(A1ETD) 16-17,22,27,35,50,53,
62-65, 80-84, 88, 90, 93, 98,101- Camdessus, Michel 67,197
104,106, 111, 174 Caralascalao, Mario 110
Andrews, David 141,189 Carascalao, Joao 63
Annan, Kofi 4-5, 7,10-12, 46, 59, 65, Carascalao, Manuel 71,114
75, 79,124,132,144-145,155,163, Cavafy, C. P. 7
196,198, 204, 206-207,210-212, 214 Ceaujescu, Elena 3
Annan, Nane 214 Ceaujescu, Nicolae 3
Anwar, Devi Fortuna 167,169 Charles II 143
Armed East Timorese Resistance Chew, Beng Yong 164
(FALANTIL) 110,151,176,186, Chief Military Liaison Officer
193,198 (CMLO) 163,195
Asia Pacific Economic Cooperation Christopher, Robin 36,198
group (APEC) 197 Cipinang prison 34-35, 70, 92, 111,
The Asian Wall Street Journal 206 120,122
Association of Southeast Asian Civilian Police Component (CIVPOL)
Nations (ASEAN) 8-9, 21, 74-75, 153,159,162,179,188,193,195
78,199 Clinton, President Bill 141,197
Aurelius, Marcus 18 Cold War 1, 3, 9
Axworthy, Lloyd 197 Committee on Peace and Stability
(KPS) 175,186
Bacon, Francis 86, 92 Confidence Building Measures
Barrat, Paul 179 (CBMs) 62, 77, 80
Bay, Kam Ranh 9 Cook, Robin 64,197
217
218 Index
currently serves as
Ja m s h e e d M ark er
special adviser to the Secretary General
of the United Nations in New York City
and is a diplom at-in-residence at Eckerd
College in St. Petersburg, Florida.