Indonesia's great PR blunder

June 15, 1994
Issue 

By Jose Ramos Horta

Ninoy Aquino was gunned down on the tarmac of the airport now honouring his name. I first met Ninoy in the early 80s when he addressed a human rights meeting at Colombia University in New York. I was most impressed and pleasantly surprised that not only he knew that my little country, East Timor, existed at all but also expressed support for our struggle. I was one of the many people who phoned him in Boston before he undertook the fateful journey to martyrdom. "Ninoy, don't forget East Timor when you become president", I pleaded with him.

Ninoy was gunned down, and his death swept away the Marcos dictatorship. The blood spilled on the tarmac has not dried yet, but people from all over the world, including a Nobel Peace laureate, are being turned back at Ninoy Aquino's international airport for travelling to Manila to share Ninoy's promises and vision of peace and democracy for the Philippines, the whole region and East Timor.

Public opinion has been dismayed by Indonesia's coarse interference in Philippines internal affairs, as it attempted to gag discussion and the free exchange of ideas among many of those most qualified to assist the search for a solution for the East Timor drama.

Betraying its despair at the prospect of being exposed yet once more, and this time in a neighbouring forum, Indonesia brought its weight to bear on the timorous Filipino president, General Fidel Ramos, whose capitulation to Jakarta, ordering impediments to be put in the way of the conference, has led to tensions in the country, as fears arise for the respect of the Filipino people's hard-won freedoms.

The refusal of entry to the Philippines of academics, human rights defenders, public figures and members of the clergy, plus obstacles raised domestically, including threats to basic academic freedoms, have gravely damaged General Ramos' government's image.

From the East Timorese point of view, the outcry produced by Indonesia's clumsy trespasses has been highly positive. Many sectors of Asian society, and especially in the Philippines, have obtained a new exposure to and understanding of the drama faced by their East Timorese cousins, and of the dangers inherent in so-called "realist" policies of appeasement of the Suharto dictatorship.

That was not what we set out to achieve when APCET was first conceived. We had expected to participate in a forum where experts on the topic could express their views and provide proposals for the search of a solution to the protracted issue. We envisaged a forum where Indonesians, including Foreign Minister Alatas, could contribute their views and perceptions.

Indonesia's hysterical response, its coarse efforts to blackmail the Philippines, trampling on its sovereignty and dignity, point to Jakarta's bad faith.

Looking at the APCET [Asia-Pacific Conference on East Timor] consequences I, and many others, ask ourselves why is all this necessary? Why should the East Timorese people continue to suffer, and why should basic freedoms and human rights be also denied to their neighbours in the Philippines? What will it take for the Indonesian leaders to finally make the necessary amends to their patently inappropriate and mistaken policies? Will the Indonesian leaders stubbornly continue their brutal oppression of one of the peoples of the region, thus increasingly alienating their neighbours, as APCET has shown?

When I first visited Jakarta in June 1974, a young diplomat, I had avidly read about Indonesia's struggle against colonialism and the significant contribution of leaders like President Sukarno, whose legacy I assumed had endured. The assurances given to me by then Foreign Minister Adam Malik about Indonesia's respect for East Timorese independence further strengthened my expectations. As I was leaving Adam Malik's private home after our meetings, I invited him to visit East Timor. He responded: "I'll come for the independence day". Adam Malik didn't show up. Instead, tanks were sent in on December 7, 1975.

Nonetheless, through all the intervening years we have continuously signalled our openness to Indonesia to enter into dialogue. My hopes that this would be possible were recently raised again in Geneva when, on May 6, I accidentally ran into Foreign Minister Alatas at the United Nations. He greeted me warmly, saying "I will be seeing you soon". I interpreted this in the context of his undertakings at talks with Foreign Minister Durao Barroso of Portugal and the UN secretary-general, Boutros Boutros-Ghali, on that day, that he would meet with the nationalist East Timorese leadership.

I looked forward to the opportunity to personally present to Minister Alatas the CNRM [National Council of Maubere Resistance] three-phase peace plan, widely acknowledged as a most viable path for a solution to the East Timor problem. We see it as a plan which would allow Indonesia to honourably disengage itself from our country in a progressive step-by-step manner. At the end, after seven or even 12 years, a referendum would enable the people of East Timor to pronounce themselves on their preferred future.
[Jose Ramos Horta is the special representative of the CNRM. This article is slightly abridged from a text distributed by Tapol, the Indonesian human rights campaign.]

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