Dili Dallying

In 1692, Pancion de Grua was escaping a Dutch attack in the East Indies. Taking refuge on a neutral island, he sailed ashore, called it Timor and raised the Portuguese flag. Though he gave the Dutch the slip, unbeknown to de Grua his fleet had been spotted from the strategic Balibo mountain top 130 km away on the other side of the island. But de Grua survived local resistance to forge a colonial relationship with the locals.

In 1975 there was speculation of more invaders.Some suggested that Indonesian troops had crossed the border from West into East Timor and were ruthlessly killing locals. President Suharto reassured Gough Whitlam that they were just rumours. Australian media barons thought they’d see for themselves, secretly despatching 5 journalists to East Timor. The five were smuggled in by Fretelin guerillas, over to the border where their worst fears were confirmed.

They found corpses piled a metre high. Spent rifle shells with distinctive Indonesian casing littered the countryside. Up on Balibo mountain, the journalists took photographs of the Indonesian battleships at anchor on the north side of the island 130 kilometres away. They wrote their reports and gave it all to the resistance leader Xanana Gusmao.

Since Indonesian solders were killing locals, the journalists painted an Australian flag outside their house while they slept, expecting that the invaders would not want to kill foreign visitors. They were horribly wrong. The Balibo five were dragged outside in the middle of the night and shot. Nor were they the only casualties. In the 26 chilling years to follow, 240,000 unarmed East Timorese civilians would be slaughtered without mercy.

Gusmao took the evidence: reports, spent shells and film through the jungle to the southern coast, where he sailed 230 kilometres into Darwin Harbour and told the world. But the world did nothing.

By 1999, East Timor’s resistance had emboldened the community, encouraging the UN to conduct a referendum: independence or Indonesian rule. Despite brutal intimidation, independence won in a landslide. Yet the colonial army refused to leave, exacting terminal retribution on thousands more pro-independence leaders. But satellite footage of the killing found its way onto Australian television much quicker than in 1975.

On 20 September, 1999, Australia’s General Peter Cosgrove sent his INTERFED troops to restore order and uphold the referendum result. A heavyweight clash loomed. As the region held its breath, Indonesia reluctantly called its troops back over the border into West Timor, taking with them 20,000 East Timorese hostages, many from Balibo. There they starved in squalid refugee camps, subjected to daily beating, women and children included.

In 2001 Indonesia agreed to Australia’s request to allow those refugees to return “if they could prove they were East Timorese, not West Timorese.” Since very few Australians spoke the dialect, an armed INTEFED platoon took a 22 year old World Vision aid worker from Balibo across the border to negotiate. Fiona Hamilton gave the Indonesian colonel a list of 4000 East Timorese names, which he threw in the dirt. She let it go. Four hours of discussion later, the colonel relented, allowing Fiona to walk through the camp identifying East Timorese with her fluent language skills and knowledge of local customs. In the three months that followed, 4000 East Timorese were freed, many of them returning to Balibo.

In March 2004, Fiona welcomed The Charitable Foundation to Balibo, showing them the poverty and inviting him to support a training centre. For $180,000 she said, TCF could use Balibo House (where the 5 journalists had been killed in 1975) for a skills training centre to make the community self-reliant within 2 years.

TCF reports that progress has been formidable. They have taught the men carpentry and motor repairs, the women commercial cooking and tailoring. A people mover runs a bus service, charging fares and making $100 a week profit. Small businesses are everywhere, with a primary school open and a kindergarten starting next month so the women can work days. Yet whether self reliance can be achieved soon is an open question.

Fiona is running out of time. To fulfil her undertaking, she needs to have Balibo earning enough to pay its own way within the next six months. When donor funding runs out, Balibo will need to produce its own money for teachers wages, materials and upkeep. In her race against the clock, she will prioritise the most profitable of the businesses to allow them to achieve their ultimate potential, maximising their contribution to overall profitability.

If she succeeds, her reward will be $600,000 to drill for water that will service 20,000 East Timorese. We think she’ll accomplish it.

(from a friend, who has opted to keep his name off this article)

September 2005