An Irishman’s Diary on Timor-Leste’s joyous liberation

Tom Hyland came up with the bright idea that, for our first visit – of several – to then-occupied East Timor in 1997, we would travel incognito.

Tom had been campaigning for six years against Indonesia’s illegal 1975 invasion (of a territory about the size of Munster) after he was shocked to the core by TV footage of the 1991 Santa Cruz cemetery massacre, outside Timor’s capital, Dili. Film-maker Max Stahl estimates that 65 to 100 died but the true total is unknown.

Indonesian troops shot, bayoneted, bludgeoned to death young men, women and children in the pretty Portuguese-style cemetery to which hundreds had marched after the shooting dead two weeks earlier of Sebastião Gomes, a teenage independence activist.

Immediately, Ballyfermot Dublin Bus driver Tom founded the East Timor Ireland Solidarity Campaign.

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A priority became that the Timorese knew that the world cared. Several such groups sprang up in Europe and the Americas. Santa Cruz was the turning point towards Timor-Leste’s independence vote 20 years ago on August 30th, 1999.

Anyway, he became Tomás Ó Haolain and I was Dáithí Ó Sionnaigh, on new passports. To embellish this subterfuge we flew not into Dili, but into still-Indonesian West Timor. A bumpy bus ride led to an entry control hut, where an officer scanned the passports and declared, “Welcome Mr Hyland”. They knew us. Throughout our short visit we were constantly watched.

A welcoming party was at a Catholic church building; across a desolate field khaki-clad men could clearly be seen studying our building from a balcony – through binoculars.

We were told of a Timorese who had worked for the military and had stories of atrocities: in one a Fretilin (pro-independence) person was staked crucifix-like to the ground and cut with blades, his wounds rubbed with chilli.

Tom decided we should visit Baucau, Timor’s second city, where resistance to the occupation was apparently strong. We swayed along a precipitous twisty road far above the sea. Half-way there Tom’s terror of heights got the better of him; he got off at Manatuto town. I continued to Baucau.

He headed for the beach, noticing by-and-by that he was being shadowed by a distant man. Walking back, he was stopped by about seven soldiers and asked why he was there. Remembering 1997 was officially “Visit Indonesia Year” – he declared himself a tourist. He was “very civilly” handed over to a Balinese policeman and was taken to await my return at the bus-stop: one came and went, without me. All this took hours.

When I did arrive I noticed Tom with the policeman, who boarded and ordered me to get off. Tom says I said: “No. Put him on!” pointing at the “tourist”. Amazingly the very civil Balinese did just that. Locals had gathered to gawk.

One of Tom’s less mild stories – from later when he was living there – is of covert Indonesian attempts to get him to accept an invitation from mountain guerrillas so that he would lead intelligence agents to their location. Another concerns the arrival of a taxi at our hotel, and the driver’s surprising announcement: “Your flight is at 12.30 tomorrow.” Tom says this was letting us know “they knew everything about us”.

A religious man spent ages telling me about a life in Timor of “surveillance and terror”. At the end of his driveway we noticed an army jeep; he quickly declared: “You can’t write any of what I said”.

Our then Beijing correspondent Conor O’Clery wrote a vivid report on the 1999 Aitarak (Thorn) pro-Indonesia militia murders of 12 people within yards of the palace of government during a visit by our estimable then-foreign minister and EU special envoy, David Andrews. Victims included “Manuelito” Carrascalão (17), son of Manuel, an independence leader.

Ireland played a proud role in the diplomatic and peacekeeping effort. Among 50 Irish soldiers were 34 Army Rangers; nine gardaí served, and Irish Aid, Trócaire, Concern and Goal too.

Tom worked for Timor-Leste’s government but has been in Ireland for several months for medical treatment. He regrets he cannot attend the 20th anniversary celebrations but is happy Ireland is sending a special envoy.

Above all, I recall the stoical, steely resolve of the Timorese to resist Indonesia’s creepy 1999 cajolery urging “Otoni” (autonomy), which the people knew would mean more of the same. Tom says they also knew a price would be exacted for their UN-supervised 78.5 per cent independence vote.

Adding to the 186,000 already dead victims of the occupation, 1,000-plus died as the departing army trashed the infrastructure. I saw power lines lying on country roads - and poles at all angles. The sheer joy of the Timorese was in palpable contrast to the hatred the Indonesian military displayed.

Once a biggish story, it seems so preferable today that no news is good news.