Abstract
As the first Canadian Ambassador to East Timor or, more appropriately, Timor-Leste, and having led the Canadian delegation to its formal independence ceremony on 20 May 2002, in Dili, I read with avid interest David Webster’s Challenge the Strong Wind: Canada and East Timor, 1975–99, which tells the story of Canada’s involvement, or lack thereof, in the evolution from Portuguese colony to subjugation by Indonesia and eventual independence of this half island in the far east of the Indonesian archipelago. While the book purports to underscore the role of civil society’s “counter-policy” in shaping Canada’s ultimate decision to support Timor’s accession to a nation-state status, it also paints the struggle between values and interests in Canadian foreign policy-making over a period of 25 years.
I should start by an admission: while I have dealt with sensitive issues for a number of years in Foreign Affairs, until my transfer from Pakistan to Jakarta, I had a very limited knowledge about East Timor, which confirms Webster’s point about a late coming to Asia by Foreign Affairs.
Thus, the book’s general take surprised me: a limited initial engagement by the Government of Canada into the Timor issue and a general alignment with allied policy, particularly the US and Australia, which meant not antagonizing Indonesia as a bulwark against spreading communism in the region. It also meant a gleeful acceptance of the argument that East Timor was not viable as a state in order to accept its integration from Portugal to Indonesia while meekly accepting East Timor’s right to self-determination. The key point made by Webster is that this right would not have accrued to East Timor without the work of a range of NGOs working at the national and international levels. Was there as much hypocrisy in Canada as he posits or was this more ignorance and automatic alignment with our allies who either had greater interests (e.g., the US) or knew more about East Timor and could convince us of the path chosen? The uncomfortable truth is that, for a number of years, Canada expressed understanding for Indonesia’s position and actions, however untenable. At the UN, we eventually abstained on self-determination while repeating Indonesia’s viewpoint—the irreversibility of Indonesia’s hold on the whole island. At one stage, we sided completely with Indonesia by voting against self-determination, apparently to ease shipments of humanitarian aid to famine-stricken Timorese.
In the 1980s, Ramos-Horta, Fretilin, the Revolutionary Front for an Independent East Timor, and its military leader Xanana Gusmão pursued their operations against the Indonesian military presence on the island, which provoked horrific Indonesian atrocities, including napalm bombing of the population. This brought the island’s Catholic church to support the local cause. Portugal was also starting to advocate for the Timorese. In Canada, NGOs were slowly forcing a change in the narrative. Webster beautifully describes the progressive influence of the NGO community, roping in some of the members of Parliament to push a counter-narrative. Amnesty International, as recipient of the Nobel Peace Prize, played a powerful coalescing role in putting East Timor on the Canadian human rights map … finally. The Mulroney government, with former Prime Minister Clark at the helm of Foreign Affairs, would slowly come to terms with the reality of East Timor’s recent past and continuing abuses. Webster provides a sophisticated analysis of the role of the Church, with the Vatican protecting its “investment” in the country while Church activists on the ground vocally supported Fretilin. Local Bishop Belo had the courage to call on UN secretary-general Boutros Boutros-Ghali to support East Timor’s right to self-determination, thus calling into question the so-called irreversibility of Timor’s absorption by Indonesia. Church solidarity started having real impact, notably through a grouping sponsored by Canadian churches: the Canada Asia Working Group and Elaine Brière’s East Timor Alert Network (ETAN).
Brière, a photographer turned into an activist, had documented the disruption in East Timor by Indonesian forced resettlement and immortalized the plight of the Timorese. Her role was vital in forcing a change in the narrative. Others, such as Bill Ripley, also influenced change while underscoring the government’s resistance to accept the facts in Timor. The deliberate blindness continued until the Santa Cruz cemetery massacre of 1991 in Dili altered the Canadian government’s policy, particularly under Foreign Minister Barbara McDougall. Canadian business, led by Trade Minister Michael Wilson, opposed vigorously any change of policy towards Indonesia. Ramos-Horta declared Canada to be “one of the most hypocritical countries in the world” (139). For many, it rang true for Timor. Yet, Boutros Boutros-Ghali strongly defended the rights of Timorese—one of the many positions that lead the Americans to make him a one-term UN Secretary-General!
With Lloyd Axworthy at Foreign Affairs, Canada’s policy would eventually change, although our support was mostly focused on the Indonesian Human Rights Commission and community development in East Timor. Webster demonstrates equanimity when it comes to depicting the various roles played by Canadian diplomats in Indonesia, bemoaning what we call in our diplomatic jargon “localitis” (i.e., espousing too readily the views of the local governments), but also lauding ambassadors who provoked change in policy, such as Larry Dickenson denouncing a “security-first approach” (160) and calling for more pressure on the Indonesian government on human rights. Axworthy exercised pressure on Indonesia’s Foreign Minister Ali Alatas, pushing for an UN-driven, track-two diplomacy through the All-Inclusive Intra-East Timorese Dialogue process. The Belo-Ramos–Horta Nobel Peace Prize in 1996 would seem to close a chapter, but the Vancouver Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation (APEC) conference and the pepper-spray incident demonstrated that Canada was still talking from two sides of the mouth. The real come-around would not occur definitively until 1998–1999, with Habibie taking over from Suharto and pledging half-heartedly a new Timor policy. The key player in the process was Australia whose relations with Indonesia are often considered second or even co-equal in importance to those with People’s Republic of China. The UN supervised referendum on Timor Independence with nearly 80 percent of votes cast in its favour immediately brought wanton destruction and killings by Indonesian militia, bringing about a more forceful reaction on the part of the Canadian Government, notably at the APEC summit, and the Australian-led International Force East Timor.
The rest is history with a transition under the quasi “royal” tenure of deeply regretted Sérgio Vieira de Mello, the UN “Regent” in East Timor. East Timor has had difficult times since Independence. Its continental shelf is lush with hydrocarbon reserves contested by Australia. The irony is that relations with Indonesia are pretty good, and the two countries share the same currency. When I presented my credentials to President Megawati Soekarnoputri in 2001, during the private discussion aided by an interpreter, she shared a laugh with the Foreign Affairs official in attendance. As I had not understood, I asked the latter what was the issue. He replied that the President thought the interpreter looked like Xanana Gusmão. Clearly no hard feelings, confirmed by her generous speech at the Independence ceremony.
This is a wonderful book …