Following
the vote for independence in East Timor last August the Indonesian
Army and pro-Jakarta militias unleashed a wave of destruction and
violence against the local Timorese population. Reports of atrocities
filtered out, leading many journalists and international observers
to believe that wide-scale breaches of international humanitarian
law had been committed. While no one disputes that there was significant
bloodshed during the convulsion of violence in East Timor, governments
and international organizations have put forth dramatically different
figures relating to the number of victims. The most striking discrepancy
is apparent in the immense gap between estimates of the death toll.
Some international agencies placed the total as high as 7,000, while
U.S. officials estimate the number at 500.
Following several months of investigation, an Indonesian human rights
panel recently accused top military officials of involvement in
crimes against humanity. Indeed, as early as last fall UN Secretary
General Kofi Annan threatened trials for crimes against humanity
in order to demand permission for peacekeepers to enter East Timor;
and earlier this month the United Nations issued a report calling
for an international tribunal to try military and militia leaders
for the violence in East Timor. Indonesian military leaders implicated
in the mayhem are resisting investigation. Recently key Indonesian
generals hinted that further probing by civilian authorities might
spark a military coup.
Along with other journalists, United Nations personnel and some
two-thousand Timorese refugees, Jose Vegar, senior correspondent
for Expresso, a leading Portuguese weekly, found himself
trapped in the United Nations's compound in Dili, the capital of
East Timor. He provides an account of his harrowing days in Dili
and provides here his view of what transpired in East Timor during
the chaos that followed the vote for independence.
--Chris Walker
The United Nations mission in East Timor that organized the "electoral
consultation" on August 30 had just announced results of the referendum:
the East Timorese people voted by an overwhelming margin of three
to one in favor of independence. But this historic election success
did not translate into a joyous public celebration; not a single
person was visible on the capital's main avenue. Having regularly
experienced the intimidating hand of Indonesian security forces
during twenty-five years of occupation, the people of East Timor,
sensing a response from the authorities, were already going into
hiding. It was in fact at 11:00pm on September 4, when the nightmare
began. For us it started as militia groups attacked the Hotel Makota,
which housed nearly all the foreign journalists covering events
in East Timor.
As
other journalists and I frantically tried to determine what was
happening, we heard reports of widespread destruction around the
country, the deportation of Timorese civilians and assassinations
of members of the National Council of Timorese Resistance (NCTR).
These reports, if accurate, meant that the notorious "Plan B", allegedly
conceived by some of the Indonesian Army's highest ranking figures,
including General Zacky Anwar and Colonel Toro Suratman, was already
in operation. UN sources, NGO representatives and others in East
Timor spoke of the two contingencies for which the Indonesian Army
had prepared. "Plan A" was devised in the event of a no vote on
independence; "Plan B" would be triggered if the East Timorese voted
in favor of independence.
The
following day it became clear that our safety in the hotel could
no longer be assured by the authorities. Escorted by personnel from
the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR), we made
the trip across town to the United Nations headquarters. Shortly
before reaching our destination, we were stopped by local police,
who, pointing guns at our heads, demanded to know our business.
After convincing them that we were part of the UN mission, we were
permitted to proceed. Upon our arrival at the UN headquarters, we
saw over 700 mission officials standing in disbelief, scattered
throughout the compound's courtyard. Inside the compound, we could
hear machine-gun fire in the streets and see smoke billowing above
the city. Some 2,000 terrorized East Timorese civilians had sought
refuge in the UN headquarters, many having been guided into the
compound by the gunfire sprayed around them by Indonesian soldiers
in control of the area. Later that afternoon, the first members
of the UNAMET mission began their evacuation from Dili.
UNAMET
spokesperson David Wimhurst explained to us that the Indonesian
Army wanted to provoke the Falintil, the Timorese guerilla army,
into striking back, thus igniting a blood bath. Under this scenario,
the Army would then step in to show the world that it was the only
institution capable of maintaining peace and order in Timor.
By
Sunday, September 5, "Plan B" was already in full swing and, as
we understood it at the time, most of the Army's objectives had
been achieved. International organizations, including the Red Cross
and Care, were being evacuated from Dili. UNAMET, which had abandoned
the outlying areas and gathered all of its personnel at the UN headquarters
in Dili, was now making arrangements for its mission to leave East
Timor all together. Moreover, almost every journalist had been evacuated.
Only about a dozen or so remained, among them four Portuguese, four
Australians, three Dutch and one British stringer.
From
the compound I was able to communicate via cell phone with East
Timorese priests and members of the NCTR hiding in the mountains
outside Dili. Military staff at UNAMET, who had traveled to West
Timor to conduct a field assessment, confirmed portions of what
my Timorese contacts told me. These officials reported seeing widespread
destruction and evidence of mass deportations. East Timorese had
apparently been herded onto trucks and deposited in West Timor,
which is under the control of pro-Jakarta militias. UNAMET military
advisers told us that Dili was largely destroyed and that most of
the local population had fled or been expelled. I saw the deserted
and devastated city myself when I left the city several days later.
Since
the time of the rampages, a UN Transitional Administration has been
established in East Timor (UNTAET) and investigations have begun
to determine more precisely the numbers of people killed and deported--and
who exactly should be held accountable. Francois Fouinat, director
of the Asia and Pacific Bureau for the UNHCR, has indicated that
the original estimates of more than a quarter million East Timorese
refugees crossing the border to West Timor were too high. At the
same time, authorities are reportedly having a difficult time finding
evidence of murder on the scale claimed by international agencies
during the destruction.
Despite
the discrepancies between earlier reports from human rights agencies
and the more recent ongoing investigations, the human rights panel
established in Jakarta has found sufficient evidence to charge key
Indonesian military officials with a host of crimes. Included among
these are allegations of torture, kidnapping, rape, forced evacuations,
wanton destruction and mass killings.
Investigators
face an enormous obstacle in the form of the Indonesian military
establishment. From the outset, the military has sought to shield
itself from investigation; it remains to be seen whether this powerful
institution's obduracy can be overcome. The highly charged task
of investigating politically powerful military figures leaves open
the question of whether local authorities will be capable of credibly
dispensing justice. The Indonesian attorney general has not indicated
whether prosecutors will bring any charges based on the findings
of the human rights panel.
Meanwhile,
the United Nations has called for an international tribunal to adjudicate
matters relating to the rampaging in East Timor. UN Secretary General
Annan set the bar at the level of crimes against humanity last fall
when Indonesian authorities were resisting the introduction of a
UN peacekeeping force into East Timor. It may well have been the
Secretary General's threat of war crimes charges against perpetrators
of atrocities in East Timor that caused Indonesia's military and
political leadership to relent in its opposition to deployment of
the UN force, thereby permitting the first step toward establishing
accountability.
Jose
Vegar covers defense issues for Expresso, one of Portugal's
leading daily newspapers. Vegar has reported from numerous war zones,
including Rwanda, former Yugoslavia and East Timor. His investigative
reporting has focused on chemical and biological terrorism, the
international clandestine weapons trade and child soldiers.

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