The optimism was quickly shattered by gunfire. With the vote running strongly for independence, pro-Jakarta militiamen appeared to panic. They shot wildly in the street outside the headquarters of U.N. election workers. They swaggered through the surrounding slum of Balidi, firing into the air with homemade guns and automatic guns, which they got from the Indonesian Army. The thugs threatened to kill people who voted for independence. When a handful of teens gathered to jeer at them, the militiamen opened fire, as Indonesian police stood by. The youngsters fled but one of them, a 19-year-old boy, tripped and fell. Thugs hacked him to death with machetes in full view of the U.N. election mission, which the pro-Jakarta forces accuse of conspiring for independence.
East Timor’s future looked as uncertain as ever. By the weekend, police were evacuating dozens of terrified U.N. workers from the western part of East Timor, where the militia were running amok. They set fire to houses and occupied entire villages, raising fears that the militia intends to split the western province away from an independent East Timor. Nor was that the only concern. Conservative Indonesian lawmakers could reject the people’s vote for independence when they meet later this fall in Jakarta. The Indonesian military, which backs the militia, might refuse to pull out. At the weekend, Jakarta said it would send in 1,400 more soldiers to help keep the peace, but locals fear more troops may only make matters worse.
East Timor’s prospects are grim. In 1975 Portugal departed the island colony, and Indonesian forces immediately moved in. The East Timorese fought the invaders, and lost. After centuries of neglect by Portuguese masters and repression by Indonesian occupiers, the territory has a per capita income of $220. An independent East Timor would instantly win the dubious title of Southeast Asia’s poorest nation.
From the start of Indonesian rule, the economy has existed to serve the rest of the country–in particular, the military. Jakarta built roads and bridges, but traffic was largely limited to military vehicles. After taking over, Jakarta canceled the local currency, wiping out people’s life savings. The military took control of the rich coffee plantations in the western hill country, which produce Timor’s most lucrative export commodity, with $20 million in annual sales. More recently, locals have moved back into coffee, but the real wealth is now believed to be offshore.
Jakarta has signed offshore oil and gas contracts worth $11 billion with Australia, cutting East Timor out of the revenue stream. Locals still rely on food and raw materials imported from the rest of the country. Eighty percent of the population survives on subsistence farming. There is no industry. Half the $113 million annual gross domestic product comes from Jakarta, mainly in the form of salaries for civil servants, who may leave under independence.
Freedom fighters hope coffee, oil and tourism will be East Timor’s salvation. But they will need plenty of aid in hard cash. “A basket case held together by international aid” was how one diplomat in Jakarta described an independent East Timor. Florentino Sarmento, a development expert, estimates that Dili will be 90 percent dependent on aid. “That’s not real independence,” he says.
It all depends on the Indonesian military. The chief of staff, General Wiranto, will visit East Timor this week. If he can force his officers to cut off supplies and aid to the militias, the violence could stop. The United States and Australia have warned Jakarta that if the military can’t control its militia proxies, Indonesia stands to lose billions of dollars in aid. As the United Nations announced a 78.5 percent vote for independence, the militias seemed out of control; U.N. peacekeeping forces may even be called in. It’s far too early to start the celebrations.
